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#I had a lot to say but not the worlds to say them
le-poofe · 3 days
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Finally~
I wanted to make a little something to say "Thank you for reading" to cap off WYS! Excuse me while I get mushy for a second-
Y’all are the reason this was able to get done. Your enthusiasm for updates and how the story unfolded really means so much to me. It was the little things that kept me motivated, even during the long hiatus. Seeing you guys pick up and point out little details sprinkled throughout the comic always made my day and gave me a sense of validation. Reactions to things like the surprise of Sans’ nightmare or Grillby’s comfort all made me super happy. And you guys gave the finale pages the sweetest reception I could ask for. l'm so grateful that you stuck around for the whole thing!
Overall, I’m very pleased with how this turned out! Interestingly, the main thing I’d want to change if given the chance is how I wrote Sans and Grillby themselves. Especially Sans’ dialogue. My characterization of them has changed quite a bit over the years (hard to tell bc I don’t draw them a lot atm). But that can’t really be helped. Just like the way that my art style changed over time. Hindsight does that stuff all the time. Nitpicking aside, I stand by the creative decisions made by 2019 Me
The funny part is that the original comic was 17 pages and I got them all done before hand so I wouldn't run into the issue of falling into a hiatus between pages!!! If y'all are interested in a bts post, I’ll try to dig up those og pages from my old computer. And maybe I'll show the even rougher epilogue draft I threw together for shits and giggles to see if I could get the page count to 69
Sansby has already been super special to me for a long time, finally getting this done and seeing the response strengthened that. I’ve had so many people find me through WYS over the years, it blows my mind. The messages from people who hold it dear really means the world! Without you guys this comic wouldn’t be what it is now. Thanks for Staying~
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killerlookz · 2 days
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Olive Green Couch | Spencer Reid
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description: when your best friend drags you to a party to meet a boy she's been fawning over, you find yourself completely bored and unimpressed- good thing you've stumbled upon a strikingly handsome (yet awkward) young graduate student named Spencer who seems equally as unhappy to be there to share your misery with.
pairing: grad school! spencer reid x f! reader
content: uhh mostly fluff, drinking, reader is described as wearing a mini skirt and wearing high heels.
word count: 4,242
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If I have to hear one more Weezer song I'm going to be sick. You think as the slow drums of Undone pour out over an all too expensive speaker system for a frat house.
The MIT frats were nothing like you experienced before, they were- for lack of a better term- a complete and utter sausage party. You can't remember the last time you'd seen this many men in a single room. If you weren't so bored maybe you would appreciate this as a reprieve from the usual maintaining "ratio" of the state school frat parties you'd been to. But even now you'd prefer that if it meant you wouldn't have to deal with another sloppily drunk man explaining the plot of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to you. Rich, pretentious, too smart for his own good MIT frat guy or dude-bro, alpha male, business major state school frat guy- it didn't matter; they were the same side of the same misogynistic coin.
You look down at the shot-glass sized solo cup in your hand, staring at the clear liquid inside. Maybe just one more shot and you'd finally start to enjoy the state you were in. You hoped maybe six shots would be the perfect number of drunk to enjoy yourself. You screw your eyes shut and throw back your head as you lift the cup to your mouth. The cheap vodka burns the second it touches your tongue, and you wince as you feel it travel down your throat and to your stomach. Your body shivers involuntarily as the warmth in your belly grows.
You face forward again, looking across the living room for your best friend- the one who dragged you here in the first place. You had suggested bar hopping or trying to get into a club, you didn't buy her a fake ID for no reason. But she insisted on coming here instead. Here- to this sweaty house filled with... well... dorks. She came here looking for some guy- Michael... Matthew... Miles.... shit, you couldn't remember. It didn't matter, you were here now, and she had ditched you to fend for yourself.
You take a step forward and all the alcohol you had drank prior seems to hit you a once, "Woah" You can't help but say out-loud as you catch your balance and wait for the room to stop spinning.
You take a few more wobbly steps forward before acclimating to your new, tipsy state. You make your way through the dimly lit house, trying to find your friend amongst the crowd and rowdy conversations. Observing the bodies that populated the house you suddenly felt insecure, and insanely overdressed- why was everyone wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Maybe a mini skirt was the wrong choice for tonight.
You make your way to a back room of the house, occupied by maybe only 10 people by your inebriated brain's estimate. There's an ugly looking olive green couch in the middle of the room- it' had obviously been through a lot but and you hated to imagine what had happened on that couch over the years, but right now it looked like the most comfortable thing in the world. You walk over and plop yourself over onto the couch, the cushions having a lot less give than you expected.
The beginning riff of Someday by The Strokes plays just outside of the room, and you groan- turning to the guy who you had just realized was sitting next to you.
"Do you know who's Dj-ing this fucking thing- can you tell them to play some Britney or something?" The words fall off your tongue, sloppily.
The boy sitting next to you turns to look at you, a confused look drawn upon his face, "Huh- me?"
Shit. He's kind of cute- In a dorky sort of way. His brown hair is perfectly unkempt, and small curls form at the back of his neck. His jawline is sharp, and his hollow cheeks accentuate his prominent cheek bones. His eyes are dark, and he looks a like he hasn't slept in years- you figured with the workload MIT students probably have- it would make sense if he actually hadn't slept since getting there. Truth be told, all things combined he looked a little sickly- he was obviously lanky maybe scrawny was a better word- his button up shirt seemed a little ill-fitted for his body, and his tie poorly tied. Still- you couldn't help but notice he was hot. The first hot guy you'd seen all night.
"Yes, you, pretty boy." You smirk.
His face reads as even more confused upon your clarification.
"Oh um," He looks down at the half-drunken beer that sits between his legs, shakes his head before looking back up at you, "I-uh I don't know the DJ, and I- um, also don't know who Britney is." He responds, a small nervous tremble in his voice.
"Spears?" You let out a small laugh, "You know like- Hit Me Baby One More Time." You half sing.
"Oh-" He looks off to the side, "No" he faces you again.
"Go figure," You scoff, still, keeping a smile on your face. "Say- are you in this frat?"
He shakes his head, "Oh- no, I'm a grad student."
"A grad student?" You respond, your eyes widen in shock no shot the man you were looking at right now was any older than you. "How old are you?"
"21" He responds, almost nonchalantly- like it wasn't some insane feat. "Well," He clarifies, "I'm actually in my third graduate program, I already have a PhD in mathematics and chemistry, from Cal Tech. I'm working on my engineering one now."
"Jesus," You smile, "So what, you're like some sort of genius, huh?"
"Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified- but I do have an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words per-minute."
You stare at him in awe for a moment, "So, a you are a genius?"
He gives you a small smile in response, "Yeah- I guess." He nods.
You're suddenly intrigued, only twenty-one years old and already a doctor twice over.
"So what brings you here Doctor...uh..."
"Reid," He nods and presses his lips into a line. "Oh! But, don't call me doctor you can call me Spencer."
"Well then, what brings you here, Spencer?" You correct yourself with a smile.
"My friend- uh he wanted me to come with him, he's meeting some girl here and he didn't want to go alone. I kind of got dragged along."
"Well," You grin, "It must be fate that we're here together on this ugly green couch, because if you could believe it- I'm here for the exact same reason except my friend- she's uh, meeting a guy here."
Spencer takes a small sip of the beer he had been holding, wincing as the liquid touched his lips. You figured he probably wasn't much of a drinker, he probably had things much more important on his plate than getting drunk and partying.
"Not much of a partier?" You ask to confirm your suspicions.
"Mhh," Spencer hums, mouth still full of beer, he shuts his eyes tight as he swallows thickly. "No." He shakes his head violently. "What gave it away?"
"Oh!" You bite your lip... "Nothing!" You say, innocently, voice steeped in sarcasm.
"It's okay," He laughs, "I know I look like a dork."
His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but smile in response. And Damn- he's really cute.
"Oh! Don't say that," You swat your hand at him, "I'm sure you get tons of ladies."
Spencer tilts his head to one side, in obvious disbelief of what you just said,
"I don't really appreciate the sarcasm," He says, his eyes narrowing at you.
"Sarcasm?" You pout, "No- I mean it Spencer, what you're like a genius. And I mean- you're not bad to look at," You bite your lip, "Not at all."
Spencer shook his head, "I was a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school, and until now, I've always been way younger than everyone in college- my experience with girls is practically in the negatives."
"Oooh!" You smirk, "Vegas," You raise an eyebrow.
"Mhm," He takes another sip of his beer, his face more relaxed this time.
"You think I'd make a good showgirl?" You wink
"Oh- um," Spencer is suddenly blinking rapidly as his head scans you up and down. You can't help but feel a little bad at the way you have him flustered,
"I'm kidding! You don't have to answer that." You reassure. "Negative experience with girls, hm?"
"Yeah- I-uh, I haven't even had my first kiss yet." He says, looking down at his lap, refusing to make eye contact with you.
"No?" You say, still shocked, even given his prior explanations of his experiences with women, "Well..." You start, pausing for a moment, "If you ever want that to change let me know." Maybe that last part was meant to be a joke, but truth is you kind of really hoped he said yes, right there, right now.
"What?" He looks back up at you, eyebrows furrowed, "No- I don't need a pity kiss. I don't even know who you are."
"It is not a pity kiss, and I'm y/n, I go to UMASS, the Boston campus- like 15 minutes away. I'm 20, and uhhh... Well, the rest you can find out later." You wink, "Now you know me!" You smile, perking up from your spot on the couch.
"Well- uh. Nice to meet you y/n" He gives you an awkward tight lipped smile. "Are you- um- enjoying your night."
"God no," You scoff. "Does that make two of us?"
Spencer nods, side moving his eyes to look around the room. It had gotten significantly more crowded since you'd came in here, you hadn't noticed, you'd been too focused on getting to know Spencer that you kind of forgot you were at a party to begin with. It didn't seem to matter now anyway, you were intrigued beyond belief and wanted to know more about Dr. Reid.
"So, why'd you leave Caltech? The weather is certainly a lot nicer than it is here," Your body physically recoils at the thought of having to go back outside to the brisk New England fall after the party was over.
Spencer shrugged, "You can only get so many degrees at one place before you need a change of scenery. I've been at CalTech since I was like- fourteen."
"Fourteen?" Your eyes widen, thinking about what you were like at fourteen. You certainly weren't CalTech material, that's for sure. "When did you graduate high school?"
"1993," He smiles and nods, "Twelve years old"
Spencer had a charming humility about him, he was the smartest person you'd ever met but he spoke in a way that made it feel like it was every day that someone could graduate high school at 12 and have two PhDs by 21.
"What do you plan on doing after college with that pretty head of yours?" You ask, your slightly intoxicated brain unable to stop you from instinctively reaching out and fluffing his hair. Spencer's eyes flick up towards your hand and he gives you an awkward smile paired with a small laugh.
"Well- I uhh... I've been in contact with this guy- well from the FBI, the BAU... Behavioral Analysis Unit. We came into contact after my second dissertation, he was shocked at how young I was, having done so much- he suggested I come to the academy when I was done with this one." Spencer explained, he talked in a way that made him seem unsure of himself, like he, himself didn't fully understand how it happened.
"God," You muse, "The fucking FBI? Could you get any cooler?"
"You know," Spencer remarks, "I think that's the first time anyone has ever used to word "cool" to describe me." The tone in his voice is light, it's clear he's happy about that fact, but you can't help but feel your heart break at the statement.
"Cool even sounds like a little bit of an understatement to me. But you know... I think I'm a little too intoxicated right now to think of a synonym, so cool it is!"
"Do you have any plans for after college?" Spencer asks, nervously running a finger around the rim of the glass in his lap.
"Nothing as cool as the FBI," You shrug, "Actually, nothing concrete, really. Has me feeling a little inadequate in a room full of geniuses."
"Oh trust me," Spencer scans his head around the room, "Not all of these guys are geniuses."
"Well- they're complete nerds at the very least." You giggle.
"I think I qualify as a nerd too." Spencer smiles back.
"Oh you definitely do," You say, scooting closer to him, taking the beer glass out of his hand, "But you haven't tried to talk down to me about some movie everyone's seen, or some album everyone's heard like I'm some dumb idiot bimbo yet." You huff, finishing what was left of the liquid in the glass with a single gulp. You slam the cup down on the coffee table in front of you, "And even if I was a dumb idiot bimbo- what makes them think I'd care about whatever they'd have to say about OK Computer. We've all listened to Karma Police, big deal!" You realize you're getting a little heated over this and cut yourself off, "Anyways," You smile, "What I mean is you don't seem like some self important loser."
"Oh," Spencer furrows his eyebrows, "Thank...you?"
"Do you want to get out of here?"
"Y-Yeah, Yeah we can go." Spencer nods.
You stand up from the couch, wobbling a little bit as your legs lift you up. The room, is blurry, for a moment all you can see are vague blobs of color instead of people. You shut your eyes tight, blinking them open to fix your blurry vision. You glance over toward Spencer, who's grabbing a tan suit jacket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He slinks the jacket on over his thin frame.
"You alright?" He asks, concern in his eyes. He must have been able to read the drunk all over your face.
"Y-Yeah I'm fine, lets go," You nod, reassuringly. You could handle your liquor, besides you hadn't drank that much tonight.
The two of you head for the door, wherever it is. Spencer was leading the way, and you hoped he had a better sense of direction than you did. The music is suddenly a lot louder as you exit the room you were in, and you suddenly feel a lot drunker. The sudden change in feeling causes you to stumble a little, bumping Spencer in the back. High heels and alcohol were never a good mix.
"Oh- hey," Spencer stops suddenly, turning around to smile at you, "Are you sure you're alright?"
You look around the room, at the hoard of people, the room thick with a combination of weed and cigarette smoke. You've never felt so lost in your life when did it get so crowded in here? The obnoxious yelling of frat guys mixed with the music turned to a volume you were sure would get the cops to show up is absolutely ear-splitting.
"Can you hold my hand?" You ask Spencer, needing his guidance more than you realized.
"Uh, yeah, yeah." He nods. You reach your hand out for Spencer to grab, and it takes him a few times to correctly slot his fingers between yours. You smile a little, watching him try to figure out the perfect hand-holding position. He couldn't be more pathetic if he tried- it was kind of adorable.
Spencer's hand is warm, a little sweaty against your palm. But his grip is tight and reassuring as the two of you walk the rest of the way out of the house.
As soon as the front door opens a brisk wind hits you, nipping at your exposed flesh. Goosebumps already dot up and down your skin, the only warmth you feel is Spencer's hand wrapped around yours, and you knew that warm sensation would end as soon as his hand got cold too.
With a little hesitance, you step outside to brave the cold. Your heels click as you carefully make your way down the concrete steps in front of the house. You stare down at your feat as you make each movement, fearing accidentally rolling your ankle or falling. You'd probably take end up Spencer down with you.
"Hmm," Spencer hums, noticing your trepidation, "Here," Spencer untwines his hand from yours and places an arm around your back, reaching to your other side, but barely touches your other arm, just holds firm enough for you not to fall.
You reach the bottom of the stairs, thankful for Spencer's help,
"You don't have to hold me so far away you know, you can pull me a little closer." You turn your head to look at him, "I mean it is kind of chilly out."
"Oh-uh," Spencer's arm pulls to hold you just a little bit closer, "Better?" His grip is still pretty weak around you, and you sigh.
"You know, Spence, I'm still pretty cold." You frown, staring down the suit jacket he was wearing.
"Do you want to go back inside? I didn't even have a full beer the entire time I was there- I can go get my car real quick and drive you home if you want. It's only a block or so away." Spencer responds, his voice quick, and nervous- it was obvious he was eager to solve the problem of you being so cold.
"No," You laugh, shaking your head, "I'm cold is kind of girl-code for, you should give me your jacket."
"Oh!" Spencer laughs, "Oh- I'm sorry, yeah- here, here have it." Spencer speaks earnestly as he slips the jacket off of his shoulders. He shivers as the loss of the fabric leaves him in only a thin button up and you can't help but feel a little bad for asking him to give it to you. But he hands you the jacket with a smile on his face, which lingers even after you put it on. It provides a marginal amount more of warmth than what you felt prior.
"Better?" Spencer asks.
"Mhm," You nod, "Thank you."
Spencer only gives you a tight lipped smile and a nod in response.
"So," Spencer starts as the two of you begin walking, his hand slipping into yours almost instinctually, it catches you a little off guard, and you feel your cheeks run hot at the gesture. "Where are you headed?"
"Oh- uh, back to Boston I guess," You squint your eyes, thinking, "I usually take the bus, the stop is up that way." You point up ahead in front of you.
"Let me go with you," Spencer says quickly, "I mean- not to your place, but let me ride the bus with you, I don't want you going by yourself."
"Why not? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You retort, trying to hide the fact that secretly, butterflies are growing in your stomach at his eagerness to take care of you.
"I just want to make sure you get home okay." His hand grips yours tighter.
"Okay," A small smile draws at your lips, you don't want to fight him on it anymore, truth was you'd love nothing more than to spend a little bit more time with him, even if it was a short bus ride.
The streets of the city are utterly dead, not a sound to be heard except the whistling of the wind and collision of your high heels and the pavement. You wonder what time it even is, how long had you even spent at that stupid party?
The bus is just as empty as the rest of the city. When it arrives, nobody but you and Spencer are on, the two of you sitting patiently under the bright fluorescent lights for the bus to move. The lights are straining on your eyes, and the horrendously carpet-patterned seats might hurt your eyes even worse.
"What stop do you get off at?" Spencer asks, being the one sitting the closest to the button to let the driver know when it's your stop.
"University Drive."
The lights dim as the bus driver pulls away from the stop you'd been picked up at, and you're able to relax your eyes once more. You let your eyes relax until all of a sudden they're closed and then-
"Hey," You feel your head being jerked, "We're here."
"Hmm?" You grumble, slowly opening your eyes.
Your stomach drops, and you're absolutely mortified to see your head is rested on Spencer's shoulder. You whip your head off from where it laid and quickly stand up from the seat.
The bus ride was fifteen minutes, you couldn't believe you fell asleep. Much less fell asleep on some guy you barely knew. You're a mess of worry as you exit the bus, thinking about how awkward you probably made Spencer feel. You're so caught up in your thoughts you barely notice how cold it is as you step outside.
"Hey, look, I'm right over there." You say, pointing to the large dorm building behind you.
"I'll walk you to the door." He smiles, and your panic immediately slides away.
You walk with your head down, looking intently at the sidewalk under you as you head forward to your building, trying your best to keep in a straight line. You had to admit, you were pretty upset your time with Spencer would be ending in just a few short minutes from now. You tried to scheme up a plan to get Spencer to stay longer, but no ideas would stick to your brain. You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest as you approach the front door.
You whip around to look at Spencer who's trailing just a few inches behind you.
"Well," You sigh, "I guess this is it." You pull your mouth to one side in a small pout.
"Yeah- I-uh, I guess so," He shrugs, "I had a nice time tonight, thanks for, making my first party experience a lot better than i was expecting." Spencer's hands are shoved into his pocket, and he rocks back and forth while he talks, unsure of himself as his eyes dart all around you.
"Of course," You grin, letting your hands drop down at your sides, "Say," You cut yourself off, and shove your hands into the pocket of Spencer's coat, fishing, until you find what you were hoping for. You pull out a pen from one of the coat pockets, and grab Spencer's hand. "I want to see you again before you become some big tough FBI agent." You smile, scrawling the digits of your phone number on the back of his hand. "Call me sometime?" You hold his hand up for an extra moment, before letting it drop back down.
"Mmmhm, yeah," Spencer bobs his head up and down vigorously.
"Okay, good. Goodnight Spencer," You smile, giving him a small wave.
"Goodnight y/n" He smiles back, as the two of you turn around to go your separate ways.
You notice as you turn back around that you're still wearing Spencer's jacket, part of you has the urge to call out to him to give it back, the other part of you wants to keep it- if he wants to get it back, he'll have to come see you again.
"Wait! Y/n!" You hear Spencer from just behind you. You frown a little, thinking your plan to keep Spencer's jacket had been foiled and he was calling to get it back from you.
"Yeah?" You whip your head back around.
"Did you mean it when you said to let you know if I wanted to have my first kiss- and that you'd change that I've never um-"
"Uhh..huh," You responded, a little to eager as an uncontrollable smile began to tug at the ends of your lips, "Are you asking me to kiss you Spencer?"
"Maybe," His voice breaks, unable to look you directly in the eyes.
You raise one eyebrow, "Maybe?"
"Ahem. Uh- I mean- yes."
Before you know it, you're tugging at his tie, pulling him close to you. Your lips are on his, just a peck at first, Spencer is hesitant. He is unsure of what to do with any part of his body, his lips move carefully, his hands unsure of just where they should be, they rest on your hips- before they move right under your shoulders. You make the decision to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Spencer's lips are soft with inexperience, he has absolutely no clue what he's doing, yet you can't get enough.
The two of you pull away slowly, neither one of you wanting to give up the kiss- but you eventually have to surrender to the night and to the cold. You place one final peck on Spencer's lips.
"Now you have to call me." You giggle, unable to hide your excitement.
"Yeah-yeah," Spencer nods, eyes wide, his lips are shiny and his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "Absolutely."
"Goodnight Spencer." You say once more, before turning around to head inside.
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A/N: whew! when I tell you I spent all day writing this i mean all day! that's okay though... im obsessed with grad school! reid. anyways..... thinking about making a (potentially smutty) part two to this ;-)
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dazednmatthews · 16 hours
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must be something that you said ~number neighbor m. sturniolo x reader part nine
long awaited meeting <3333 i’m so nervous omfg. i really hope you guys like it and it’s all it was hoped to be. ahhhh okay let’s gooooooo
y/n had spent nearly twenty minutes in front of the mirror by the time matt had pulled up outside. she ran her hands anxiously down her body, adjusting and readjusting the straps of her tank top. she’d reapplied her lip gloss about forty-five different times, changed her hair twice and huffed in frustration a million times over.
but if someone asked her, she would still claim that she didn’t care that she was about to be in the actual presence of matt. the guy she texted on whim when she was bored. the guy she’d been texting for a month now, getting to know him pretty much inside and out. the guy that was doing the same to her.
oh god, she thinks. i’m gonna be sick.
it’s only after the five minute warning from him does she grab her bag and make her way to the door. her stomach is filled with butterflies, and she feels like she’s genuinely tweaking out over the fact that she’s about to be face to face with the same boy that she’s almost positive she’s completely infatuated with she likes.
she can’t find it in her to let matt see through her though, so she locks her door with a new found confidence and trudges down the stairs. when she gets to the parking lot, she’s surprised to see matt outside of his car, leaning on the hood with his feet crossed.
he’s wearing a white and red, three quarter sleeve top, blue jeans and boots on his feet. the chain he usually wears is replaced with a cute necklace with a horse pendant on it. all in all, the outfit makes y/n want to rip her hair out. she feels weird suddenly, like maybe she doesn’t look right or won’t be what he expected- or even worse what he wanted.
it disappears as quick as it came though, when matt looks over to her and says, “thank fucking god. i thought i was gonna have to go door to door to find you and drag you out here.”
it’s just what she needs to release all the awkward tension she’d been holding. “i would’ve pretended not to know you so you got arrested for being a creeper.”
he shakes his head, eyes bright and hair falling into his eyes, “you’re just as annoying in person. damn.”
“and you’re shorter than i thought you’d be.”
matt glares at her a little. “oh fuck off.” he does a double take slightly, running his eyes down her body. “you look good. really good.”
she doesn’t know what to do, so she just shoves his shoulder. “shut up.”
she’s standing maybe ten feet in front of him still, not moving. “c’mere,” he says, gesturing her closer. “don’t act all shy now. you were in my messages talking about road head ten minutes ago.”
he pulls her in for a hug before she can even think to be embarrassed. seeing matt feels crazy. being in front of his face, no screen to separate them, feels insane. but touching matt? her face in his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist, fingers grazing the skin in between her top and her pants, made her feel absolutely deranged.
he smells so good she kind of hates him for it, and the way he’s holding on to her kind of makes her want to kiss him. it’s enough for her to pull back and look up at him through her lashes. “hi.”
it’s soft, completely out of character for their dynamic and sickly sweet. not the kind of sweet she is when she’s trying to get under his skin, but the kind of sweet that comes when you’re completely comfortable around someone. y/n can’t explain it, but for some reason, she feels the world fall away.
matt looks down at her with a boyish grin. “hi.” his voice is making her stomach do flips and tricks; so raspy and low. she really might kiss him now.
he holds her for a little longer before he pulls away, guiding her to the passenger door. “alright, let’s go.” he says, opening the door and leaning against it with a wide grin. “no time to waste. i’ve got plans for you.”
something weird blooms in her chest. it’s different than any feeling matt has ever given her. it’s scary as hell, so she forces herself to shake away the feeling. she shakes her head in amusement at the excitement that matt never shows lighting up his entire body.
in that moment, she’s sure she would’ve followed him damn near anywhere.
-
“what about this one?” y/n says, turning to matt who lingered closely behind her. he gives her a flat look at the ‘i heart dilfs’ poster she holds up.
“why the fuck would i put that in my room?”
she shrugs, “why not?”
he ignores her, going around to the shelf full of rolling trays next to her. she takes a moment to quietly admire him, eyes taking in every inch of his body. the way he stands with his body facing forward but still turned in her direction, the way his eyes dart from tray to tray with peaked interest and then way he chuckles softly when he reads something funny. it’s making her head spin, being close enough to touch him. he had felt like such a far away concept behind her phone screen and now, her brain is having trouble grasping that he’s right there.
maybe that’s why she finds herself drawn to him. finding little ways to touch him even if it’s not necessary. like now, she leans over his arm, pointing at a lava lamp. “that would be cute in your room.”
matt looks like he’s immediately about to protest, not even because he’s registered what she said but because, well that’s what they do. he doesn’t though, eyes shifting to the box. he considers it, before grabbing it. it’s purple and pink with tiny specks of orange, and he agrees despite himself.
“yeah, i think i’ll get it.”
y/n is pleased with herself then, standing back upright when he moves to the registers. when he gets to the cashier, she stands off to the side admiring a spinning wheel of keychains. matt can’t be more than ten feet from her, and she thinks it’s obvious that they were here together with the way they’ve been attached at the hip since they stepped in the store, but by the way a pretty redhead stops him on his way back to her, maybe it wasn’t.
“hi,” she says, stepping into his way. “i like your outfit.” y/n is doing everything she can to ignore the interaction in front of her, staring hard at a particularly ugly cartoon lanyard.
“thank you.” matt says. his voice is monotone and she tries not to smile at it.
“i was wondering if i could get your number?” any trace of happiness is wiped from her body. “sorry if that’s forward. i just saw you from over there and think you’re really cute.”
the girl is pretty, big auburn ringlets framing her face perfectly. from the quick glance at her, y/n sees wide, bright green eyes and long pretty lashes. give me a fucking break, she thinks bitterly, rolling her eyes.
“oh,” matt doesn’t seem surprised, but y/n can’t decipher his tone. she knows she has no right to feel any kind of way about it. she knows matt’s not her boyfriend, not anything but her friend, who she had literally just met today, but fuck it if she can control the green monster tearing through her chest. “thanks, but no. i’m here with someone.”
she wishes it didn’t make her as elated as it did. wish the warmth radiating in her fingertips and cheeks didn’t slam into her full force. but it did. it really fucking did.
she tried to control the silly grin on her face, turning her head and pressing it into her shoulder slightly. when the girl apologizes and walks away, matt is back at her side and it takes all she has not to touch him.
“sorry that took so long,” he says. “cashier yapped about a sale for forever.”
“mhm,” she says, trying and somewhat failing to push her feelings down. “whatever.”
matt slings an arm around her shoulders, steering her towards the door. “let’s go somewhere else. i hate malls and i’m fucking starving.”
-
after they get food, burgers and fries from a small place in a plaza somewhere, matt and y/n are walking through a park, exchanging stories of their siblings. y/n tells matt that the fact that he’s a triplet is something she thinks about daily, because it’s so fucking weird. matt tells her she’s an idiot and that he literally doesn’t know life any other way.
they reach a bench over looking water and decide to sit. there’s no one around, except for a stray jogger every couple minutes. y/n turns her body towards matt, surprised to see that he’s already looking at her.
“what?” she says, giving him a weird look. there’s a slight smirk on the corner of his lips, and his baby blues are looking at her like he can see through her completely.
“nothing. just wondering how long we’re gonna keep doing this.”
y/n is taken aback by that. “hanging out?” she chuckles. “got somewhere better to be?”
matt rolls his eyes. “not what i meant.” he slides closer to her. “i meant, keep pretending that this thing between us isn’t here.”
his words make her heart stutter. she can feel her eyes widen the tiniest bit. “i can tell you took that “be direct” thing to heart.”
“and i can tell you’re still sticking to the whole ‘deny, deny, deny’ thing.”
theres a soft breeze that filters through the space between them, making matt’s stray hairs go every which way. in instinct, y/n reaches up, fixing it. “i’m not denying anything.” she shrugs, somewhat shyly. “i just want to hear you say it. it’s a nice break from hearing how much i annoy you all the time.”
matt lowers his head, making himself known in her space. there’s a fingertip of length between them, and he slides his left hand carefully up her shoulder, settling it on the side of her neck. y/n can feel her heart hammering in her ribcage, all the feelings she’d spent god knows how long smothering in teasing banter and annoyed remarks bubbling up to the surface. she was kind of enamored with matt and she knew there was no use in denying it any longer.
“you do annoy me,” matt breathes. “so fucking bad.”
“yeah?”
“yeah,” he says, tightening his hold on her. she feels her bones turn to jelly. “it annoys me how much i like talking to you. it annoys me how much i miss it when you’re not in my phone talking about crazy shit.” his thumb makes its way to right under her bottom lip then, rubbing the skin affectionately. “but what annoys me the most, is how you have no idea how fucking crazy you drive me.”
y/n sees those pesky stars again as matt’s voice drops even lower. “miss you all the time. even now, when you’re right in front of me.”
y/n can’t stand it then. he’s said everything she wanted, everything she needed to hear. she got her confession, got the confirmation that everything she’d been feeling was definitely not one-sided or made up and now all she wanted to do was kiss the boy in front of her. so she does.
she hooks her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him with a gentle urgency, right where she needs him. it’s something that rivals true peace, the way they collide. matt’s hands are gripping her face so firmly, like he can’t stand the thought of her not being close and y/n’s are tangled so tightly in his hair like she never wants to let go.
it’s a month of pent up feelings overflowing and spilling out on to their fingertips. it’s so many things unsaid that have never been clearer than right now.
when the two pull apart, y/n can’t help herself. “damn. if i knew you could kiss like that i would’ve skipped all the getting to know you bullshit. your personality not that great anyways.”
matt stares incredulously, lips puffy and cheeks slightly pink. “only you have the ability to ruin a moment as good as that one.” he hangs his head with a snort. “you’re unfuckingbelievable.”
“you better fucking believe it, motherfucker. you’re stuck with me now.”
matt thinks maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world after all.
a/n: how are we feeling cherrie nation!!!!!! let me know. it’s time to get back to the silly goofy texts now cause i miss them. love u all <3333
TAGS:
@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @hypnotizedsturn @riowritesitall @kitaysworld @h3arts4harry @fikefries @conspiracy-ash @kriissy4gov @matty-bear @always-reading @thehighgrounds
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crippled-peeper · 3 days
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The thing about disability being a social construct is largely true, because when you have a physical issue but receive accommodations + care such that they can do everything able-bodied people can, you're no longer considered disabled. Case in point: glasses. If glasses fix near-blindness, you're not considered disabled, even though you're basically blind without them.
In a hypothetical world where mech suits existed, were cheap and comfortable and accessible and worked well, and were normalised such that people didn't even notice, even quadreplegics wouldn't be considered disabled (although of course that's distant science fiction).
That's what "disability is a social construct" means. In the same way gender being a social construct doesn't mean boobs aren't real, or money being a social construct doesn't mean physical cash doesn't exist.
I don’t agree with this analysis at all.
What hypothetical disabled people might be able to do in the future holds no meaning in the current reality I occupy
You say that quadriplegics will be “considered” abled with exoskeletons - but then you fail to elaborate on the relationship between these devices, their users, and the people who supply them
My father has had type 1 diabetes for 30 years. 30 years is an entire lifetime for some people. The cost of his insulin increased literally that ENTIRE TIME until last year when the Biden admin put caps on insulin prices
Furthermore, his insulin pump retails for 4,600$, and if it breaks, he is still diabetic at the end of the day and will slowly and terribly die without it.
I noticed a lot of people on here have lots of ideas and hypotheticals about how disabled people should and could navigate the world, but their arguments fall flat and topple so easily because you’re not connecting these ideas to anyone’s intrinsic reality
This is why so many physically disabled people are fatigued by the entire “disability is a social construct” conversation. It’s overwhelmingly used by uneducated 17 year olds to minimize and downplay and discredit the real-life, life-or-death interactions and experiences many physically disabled people live with
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cherie-doll · 2 days
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𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon : When They Come Back
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✧˚ Ghost, Keegan, Soap, König, Phillip Graves
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Fluff for you suckers -hope you enjoy the word vomit ;(
Working under constant danger put a strain on them, at moments when it seemed like the world was nothing but shambles and havoc they’d close their eyes and remember what brought them warmth. There was a certain feeling they yearned for and were only satisfied when you were near.
There is something special in knowing someone is waiting for you.
Ghost
This man comes back completely drained; physically, mentally, emotionally…
At first, he was hesitant concerning your worry about him
“If you won’t let me take care of you, who will?”
Might be a little distant at first, it takes time for his mind to come back
No going out, at all
You say comforting phrases to him
“You’re not at war anymore, you can come home”
He’s been through a lot, a warm meal and hugs are all he needs for days afterward :(
It takes some time for him to recharge
When he feels better he lets you know much he appreciates everything you do for him
Takes time to admire you; he silently takes in your facial features
Affectionate gazes that flicker between your eyes and lips
He knows you aren’t obliged to it yet you make an effort for him and that makes him feel like he’s earned a much better reward than money or glory could give him
Keegan
Saying this man missed you is an understatement
It’s like you placed a spell on him the moment he met you
If it were up to him, he wouldn’t want to be a moment away from you
He’ll miss you in silence, won’t send letters or texts or anything knowing it’ll make his heart ache more
But when he walks through the door he falls to kissing you
Bites your lip just for the taste of you on his tongue
His lips leave yours for breaks in between intense kisses to whisper “I love you”
He feels empty without the intimacy and closeness of you
He doesn’t care what you do or don’t say, doesn’t expect anything big either, he just wants to see you with your arms open for him
Soap
No matter how bad it was this time, he always comes back with a smile on his face when you open the door
Even behind that loving smile, you catch the subtle dimness in his eyes
Peppers you with kisses all over your face
Extremely clingy
Needs to be reminded that the world can be kind and gentle
Needs you to dote excessively over him
You give him a shoulder massage as he washes up in the bathtub
Convinces you to join him
Afterward, you crawl into bed with him, cradling his head on your lap
Both of you turn into couch potatoes for a couple of days watching cozy films
König
Keeping up a stoic demeanor can be tiring, so he easily drops the poker face as soon as he buries his face into your neck
No matter how much prying you do, you won’t get him to open up about what disturbs him
He’d rather keep those horrors locked away from you, you’re his most cherished possession
A lot of quiet moments where he’s just content to be with you again
Little is said between you as tender and passionate kisses are exchanged
Don’t think he’ll leave your side for the next few days, you’re attached at the hip
As you trace the scars on his back to his shoulders, you feel his body tremble beneath your fingertips
Your touch is addictive to him; soothing him into a tranquil sleep
Phillip Graves
He’s had to deal with a lot of crap so he’s relieved to finally come back to some peace, and most importantly; you
At first, he didn’t want to overwhelm you with issues that aren’t yours, but as your relationship progressed he started opening up more
Oftentimes, he’s in an irritable mood when he comes back
You listen to him rant if that’s what he needs
Other times it gives him too much of a headache to even think about
He adores you for understanding him without words being spoken
With so many enemies he has, he feels undeserving of you, someone who’s like a warm ray of sunshine in his austere life
When he falls silent you know that’s your cue
A sort of haze entrances him as you trail soft, torturous kisses along his jaw
Your scent obscures his mind as he gets drunk on your affection
He can’t even remember what he was mad about
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vivwritesfics · 1 day
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Can you write a love triangle between Y/N, Lando and Charles?
There wasn't a lot to go on here so i added in an AU and dedicate it to the wonderful @biancathecool
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They were an unconventional throuple, to say the least.
Throuples (if that is the correct term, deepest apoloogies/correct me if not) were a rare dynamic, especially in the werewolf community. And, if they did happen, they usually had an Alpha, someone dominant.
But not these three.
For starters, their pack was unconventional. Like, how many packs out there have more than one Alpha? It was a recipe for disaster, sure. But this pack had several.
It had taken a while to work it out, their dynamics (the pack, not the throuple). While the pack were all loyal to each other, the alphas had those that were more loyal to them than the other alphas.
Take Carlos Sainz, for example. He was a big strong alpha, just like every other alpha in the pack. But Lando Norris and Charles Leclerc were ever loyal to him, more so than they were to Oscar Piastri, or any other Alpha.
He had her, too. Carlos was fiercely protective over the three of them. His two Betas and his Omega. Of course, they weren't just his, but they were more his than any other Alpha.
And while they loved Carlos, the two Betas and the Omega found solace in each other. The kind they wouldn't find in anybody else.
It wasn't a rare sight to find Charles, Lando and herself cuddled up together, ignoring their responsibilities. The rest of the pack couldn't fault them. Max and Daniel also hid themselves away from the world like these three.
They weren't Alpha's, but as soon as somebody came into the room, Charles and Lando were in front of her, growling at anybody that came near. It wasn't in their nature to be this fiercely protective over her, but they just couldn't help it.
But, as soon as that person left them alone, the two of them were climbing back onto the sofa, into the bed (wherever) with her, wrapping her in their embrace. They placed kisses to her skin, delicate kisses to her lips as the three of them drifted back to sleep.
(Now I must say this is a rare occurrence, for them to be sleeping all day. Everyone in the pack had their job and Carlos wouldn't let them get away with slacking off for two long. But, even as they did their jobs, they were connected to each other.)
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simplydnp · 3 days
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be honest with me. what are the chances of a hard launch in june
anon this question goes back years. and the thing is. we have been right once before.
you ask me this this time last year? fuck no. i might even quip that dapg would come back before dnp would hard launch. well. look at us now.
and even then, you look back on the content they started with in the revival--it honestly kind of felt exactly like where we left off, only a lot more explicitly queer (we stan). and then... trying to see without my glasses 2. and bang, spooky week happened. and that shifted the balance. we suddenly got slo-mo replays of handholds. day, after day, after day, finishing with the absolute masterpiece of halloween baking cinnamon rolls. in all honesty it was so much more than i'd've ever expected from them. truly another post-baking universe.
and it never really slowed down. suddenly we had cat prom photos, catboy butlers, catboy dan w/ phil photography credit, theyre 'wrestling' --running us full throttle into gamingmas, the first since 2017. and every day we had a new thing to freak out over: standing close. golf jokes. and then... pinof reacts. i don't know what compelled them to do it but i do have speculations. genuinely, i think they wanted to defang a lot of their history. we treated pinof 1, especially, with this... reverance. and it wasn't talked about too publicly--and dnp didnt do it either. so if they really wanted to move on, to bring down the walls, open the floodgates, define this new era: they had to throw the first stone. and they did. quite heartily too. suddenly this almost taboo part of their history--almost too intimate to be perceived--was on the table. and we were talking about it. joking about it. giving clear signals of 'we see it, it's okay.' and suddenly we existed in a post-pinof reacts world. of anything, i would've never predicted they would've done that. absolutely wild. follow that with it takes two being so chill and fond. incohearant being so blatant and heartfelt. trombone champ being unhinged and chaotic. the genuine and sweet complimenting of each other in the red carpet video. devan wedding... happilyphoreverafter... we crashed forward in time. never knowing what would be next. where is the line? how far will they go.
they teased us with japhan honeymoon and we knew 2024 would be wild. but we didn't know how much. from wdapteo 2023, to specific reminiscing about japan w/ devan, WAD happening, and phil playing a huge role in it all--from the orange carpet hosting, to 'ive been in *sex noises* with phil from the start!', to 'remote crisis manager phil lester', to dan saying he can stay during the thank you.
one of the biggest videos so far this year was the tiktok likes one. i will be forever haunted by the dog eating cheeseburger and willy wonka tiktoks--theres some things i was never meant to know. and yet. they tell us. explicitly.
every single video on amazingphil since the return of dapg has mentioned or featured dan. there's been a palpable shift in the way they interact. have you seen the way phil has been glowing in videos lately? this guy is on cloud nine all the time. it's really not hard to see why.
the energy of keep or yeet w/ dan... the absolute Lack of pretense of it all. phan twitter... watch your step baby girl...
dan and phil fucking crafts. talk about an unexpected return. legacy defining, one might even say. we're still in this tailspin of what everything means and they drop this insanely iconic video on us. from the storytelling to the production to the aesthetic--and its all capped off by explicit handholding. yes, it was part of the sacrifice. but hand in hand, the heart dan ripped from phils chest in one, and the knife that did it in the other... oh boy. we're really in it now. and then they put it on fucking merch. genius. truly no one does it like them.
and the foot has been on the accelerator since. dan and phil connections, shuffleboard & mocktails, getting deep slumber party, acknowledgement & approval of fics (yes previously given but never like this)--hell, even the sims today was wild for 'is their love language horrible banter 👀'.
you didn't ask for an essay but i gave you one. all of this to say, they've been moving the line. quite intentionally so. they intentionally revived their joint branding. they are 'dan and phil' again, and seem happier than ever about it, and i think that means something. they're saying things they never would have before--out of the closet or not.
as for june... 5 years since coming out is a big deal. so is this year being 15 years of dnp. hell, so is this year for being the first out pride month where they're explicitly a duo and regularly making content together. they're sentimental, there will be something.
my craziest idea is reacting to their coming out videos ✌️😔 --but i don't think it'll actually happen. as for more realistic, i could see pride merch. and however that goes will be significant, in my opinion. i'm excited and curious.
i don't know if they'll hard launch. it's hard to put all of the implications, complications, and speculations back into the box once it's opened. dan's talked about it before--wanting to be able to fuck up and not be publically executed, instead, being able to learn and grow and work it out. i think that's a very understandable stance to have. very grounded. we'd have to ask him if tour/dapg has changed that now. i do think he's had some sort of life epiphany--whether it's about that specifically, only he can say. but i think it's there.
even if i portray a lot of level-headedness, i wear my clown nose with pride. sometimes the only option is to go with whatever is funniest at the time. they're both jokesters, so they could commit to a bit like that. but it's also like, it can be too serious for them to want to joke about. i don't know. i think we're in this almost beautiful state right now--the we know you know of it all. there's no expectations, no demands to be met, no obligations of types of content. they're happy. we're happy. it depends on if they feel ready. if they want to. we'll be here, always.
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munsonsfairy · 19 hours
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I have an ideaaa
how about a Paige x fem!reader wedding/proposal fic or headcanon??
the idea of her draft fit as a wedding outfit omfg 🤭
🪞🏹🕯️🌿 MY PEACE • PAIGE BUECKERS
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omg i love this idea!!! i did wedding headcanons if that’s okay!! <3
content: fem reader & no physical description of reader or their wedding outfit
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౨ৎ the night before, you and paige spend it by cuddling into each other while sitting on the balcony that overlooks the city.
“my wife, my wife, mine,” she whispers against your neck after every kiss. “not for another day, babe,” you’ve been reminding her since she proposed.
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౨ৎ it takes her 20 minutes to leave your townhouse that night. lots of goodbye kisses have already happened that it took kk & ice to drag her ass out.
“bye my beautiful gorgeous wife!” paige yells out the window as ice drives away. she doesn’t get into the car until you are out of her sight.
౨ৎ instead of reading your vows in front of your wedding guests, the both of you decided to do it before the ceremony. as you walked towards paige, you could see her wavy blonde hair with her front pieces in braids (as always). she was wearing an all white suit. you could tell she was nervous and excited by how much she was fidgeting.
“paige?” when she turned around her blue eyes already had tears in them. she looked at you in awe and almost fell to her knees. “we can’t cry we both have make up on,” you fan both of your both eyes trying to hold it all in.
she laid her head on yours and looked into your eyes. for a moment it felt like it was only the two of you in that garden. “we’re finally doing it. my wife,” you see a tear fall from her eye as she leans in to kiss you.
౨ৎ now the vows!!!!!! 🥹
paige reached into her pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. you could see her shaking, so you squeezed her hand to remind her it’s just you.
she smiled at you and took a deep breath, “ever since i could remember, i was always told, “you’ll know when they’re the one,” and i never understood that. i never felt complete until i saw you. when our eyes met, i knew after 3 seconds that you were the one. i’m blessed with the pleasure to know someone like you.” she looked up at you and saw you tearing up. “bro if you cry, i’ll cry,” she said laughing. “okay okay! no more crying.”
she took another shaky breath, “to be able to love and be loved by you. you are my sunrise and sunset filled with the most beautiful colors. you’re my peace with the world is too loud. your love is my turning page. you are the strongest person i know and i admire to be my best self everyday. i never doubted our love and will always consider myself lucky to love and learn from you. these past four years have been my favorite movie. i promise to love every single detail of you for the rest of my life.”
after you said your vows, paige was walking up to kiss you until you stopped her. “not until we say i do!” she looked at you with shock but kissed your knuckles on both hands. she leaned her forehead on yours once more. “see you at the alter,” then watched as you walked back to the venue’s house.
she didn’t want to take her eyes off of you. just wanted to stand there and admire you.
౨ৎ during the dance, you reserved chick-fil-a as a surprise for paige. she ran to you and grabbed your face to kiss you all over. her and kk were fighting over who was going to be the first to be served. spoiler alert: you got served first since they were too busy bickering. when you were eating your nuggets, paige noticed you had ranch on the corner of your mouth and kissed it off of you.
౨ৎ once your reception was over and almost all of your wedding guests have left, you and paige danced one last dance. your heels were long gone and paige was very tipsy. she held you so close to her chest that you could hear her heartbeat. you felt the breeze against your skin and closed
your eyes. paige was slowly guiding you in a circle while humming the song.
she kisses your head and said, “my wife.”
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tagging: @urantisocialgay because i know you’ve been asking for this (:
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frenchkisstheabyss · 2 days
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♥︎ Pairing: boyfriend!jisung x chubby!fem!reader
♥︎ A/N: If you're a chubby/thick/plus sized babe feeling not so great about yourself and you happen to love our sweet Hannie, I hope you find some comfort in this.
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boyfriend!jisung who fell for you the moment he saw you but took forever to work up the nerve to ask you out on a date because he was afraid you'd say no.
boyfriend!jisung who's an introvert that doesn't like to go out a lot but went out every weekend for a whole month just for the chance to hang out with you.
boyfriend!jisung who spontaneously confessed his feelings for you one night and turned the cutest shade of red when he found out you felt the same.
boyfriend!jisung who's hangs on every word you say so when it was time to plan your first date he knew how to make it perfect for you.
boyfriend!jisung whose friends adored you before they even met you because this man couldn't stop running his mouth to them about how amazing you were. They've literally never seen him so head over heels.
boyfriend!jisung who had you stay over his place so he could make you breakfast the next morning accompanied by flowers and a little card he handmade asking you to be his girlfriend.
boyfriend!jisung who doesn't get it at first when you say people won't believe that someone like him wants someone like you.
boyfriend!jisung who took the time to understand your feelings, reassuring you as much as you needed that it didn't matter what anyone else thought. You're the most beautiful woman in the world to him. How could he not want you?
boyfriend!jisung who praises your body every chance he gets. When you take him shopping with you he can't resist telling you how nicely that sundress suits your figure or how cute those pants make your butt look.
boyfriend!jisung who always has to sneak in a few extra minutes with you in bed in the morning so that he can cuddle and squeeze your soft body. You're the reason he's late all the time but it's worth it.
boyfriend!jisung who never makes you feel like you need to be ashamed of your squishy belly, rolls, or chin. If he catches you sulking he'll kiss every part of you until it feels loved.
boyfriend!jisung who's known for being funny but will turn into an absolute demon if anyone ever fucks with you or makes you feel bad.
boyfriend!jisung who checks in with you throughout the day to make sure that you've eaten. On your bad body image days especially he'll either cook or buy you your favorite foods to avoid you skipping meals.
boyfriend!jisung whose camera roll is filled with pictures of you two together along with a bunch of secret ones he's taken when you weren't looking. Some are from angles you'd feel make you look bigger but he's smitten with every picture of you. You'll have to fight him to delete them.
boyfriend!jisung who always lets everyone know that the two of you are together. There's never a question of how proud he is to tell the world you're his.
boyfriend!jisung who'll stop everything to be with you when things get really bad. You can cry in his arms for hours if you want. He'll always be there to comfort you.
boyfriend!jisung who lets himself be vulnerable, opening up to you about his own insecurities because he knows you'll be there to comfort him too. Of course you are.
boyfriend!jisung who may drool over how pretty you are but never takes for granted how kind, funny, creative, and intelligent you are on top of that.
boyfriend!jisung who loves you because, well, you're you.
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hawkinsbnbg · 3 days
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See, Eddie had always been bad at flirting if not a disaster at it. And it didn't help when he had a bad habit of going dumb around Steve Harrington—the boy of his dream, the muse of his soul, the sun of his flowers, and the light of his life.
At this point, it was inevitable that whatever he managed to say to Steve always ended up sounding awkward or worse, ominous.
"Why are you staring?" Steve cocked an eyebrow at him, hazel eyes gleaming in amusement.
They were having a movie night at the Munson’s new apartment after holding one at Steve’s just last week.
And as usual, Eddie’s attention was on the other boy, unable to stop gazing at that lovely face.
Sometimes, Eddie still felt like he was hallucinating whenever he hung out with Steve. Because, never in his wildest dream, he would see himself being friends with King Steve.
And yet, against all odds, after surviving Hell together, they had become fast friends and stayed like that for months. These days, Eddie could confidently say that he was Steve's best friend besides Robin.
Then again, he was quite sure Steve wouldn't give him The Moves™️—lips biting, eyes glancing up through lashes, knees squeezing, hips knocking, hands holding—if they were just friends.
So. Flirting.
If only Eddie was all suave and smooth, he bet they would be boyfriends by now, and not whatever that had been going on between them these last few months.
Sorry for staring but your eyes are so beautiful; they’re the most priceless gemstones in the world, sweet candies that I want to possess, a hazel sky that I want to keep drowning in, was all Eddie wanted to say.
But instead, he blurted out. "I wanna lick your eyeballs.”
Horrified, Eddie slapped a hand over his mouth before quickly correcting his grave mistake.
"Wait– I didn't mean that," he flailed his hands around in panic and tried to explain to a wide-eyed Steve. "I meant, I want to keep your eyes to myself– No, that sounds so creepy, oh my god–"
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Steve straightened from his comfy position on the couch and held Eddie's hands gently. "Calm down, Eds. Just take your time. I promise I won't go anywhere."
Eddie nodded, heart beating fast under the attention of those warm and kind doe-eyes.
Eventually, he got a grip on himself and turned his hands so he could lace them with Steve. Theirs were about the same size but always fitted so well together like gloves.
Eddie looked up to meet Steve's patient gaze. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The success rate was sixty percent, which was enough for him to work with.
"I uhm, like your eyes a lot,” he cleared his throat slightly. “So can I take you on a date tomorrow?"
In a fleeting second, he feared for a rejection. But then, Steve smiled at him, sweet and pretty, and Eddie was done for.
"My shift lasts until four, so you can pick me up then," Steve gave his hands a light squeeze.
Overwhelmed with joy, Eddie pulled the other boy into his lap to kiss him silly.
Later, they moved into Eddie's bedroom to continue their making out session without worrying about being walked in on by Wayne.
He hunched over Steve with those long legs wrapping around his lower back, and kept peppering Steve's face with kisses because he could never have enough of him.
"Should've," a kiss on the forehead. "Done," a kiss on the eyelid. "This," a kiss on the nose. "Sooner," another kiss on the cheek.
Steve giggled and threaded his fingers into Eddie's hair to pull him down into another tender kiss.
When they parted again, they were both blushing and panting.
Eddie had to refrain himself from grinding against Steve, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep his pants on once he succumbed to the siren's call.
Steve didn't share the same sentiments as him, however, when those legs tightened and forced Eddie to scoot in closer, making their clothed erections press into each other.
Even through multiple layers of denim, Eddie still felt the delicious friction that lit him up like wildfire.
"God, you're killing me, sweetheart," Eddie groaned and pecked those pouty lips, red and swollen like sin.
"Haunt me then," Steve whispered and rolled his hips, tempting and alluring. "Make me remember."
Eddie didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He just surrendered himself to the siren's call and got lost in the sweet paradise that was Steve Harrington.
Afterward, as Eddie was stroking Steve's naked back absently, he pressed a kiss on Steve's forehead.
"Think we should take it slow, baby?"
"If that's what you want, Eds," Steve shrugged slightly. Then, in a small voice, he glanced up from where he was pillowing on Eddie's chest. "You'll tell me if I move too fast, 'kay?"
"The last thing I'm gonna complain about is you, baby boy," Eddie snorted and tucked a stray hair behind Steve's ear. "I just wanna hear your opinions about our relationship is all."
This time, it was Steve's turn to snort. "Haven't been on a date yet, and here we're already talking about our relationship."
"Yeah," Eddie chuckled. "We're kinda doing things out of order right now," he gave Steve's forehead another small kiss. "But you were an impatient little thing, sweetheart. Can't imagine what you would've done to me if I hadn't given in earlier."
"Don't pretend like you haven't been desperate to lay your hands on me," Steve rolled his eyes with a quiet huff.
"Keep doing that and you're gonna see how desperate I am, doll face," Eddie said huskily.
"Is that a threat?" Steve raised his eyebrow in challenge, hazel eyes gleaming impishly. "Because it's not working on me, honey."
Eddie's lips stretched into a wide grin and before Steve could taunt him again, he started tickling the other boy.
In the end, Steve had won the tickle war and Eddie had blown him off as a reward.
To no one’s surprise, they managed to go through another round, and by the time they finished, Steve was too out of it to tease Eddie anymore.
The morning after, he had woken up with Steve in his arms.
Once Steve roused, they had made out a bit too long in the bed, exchanged toes-curling handjobs in the bathroom, and had breakfast together with Wayne before leaving for work.
When the time rolled in, Eddie might be a bit too eager to give Steve everything, because he had gone a little overboard for their date night.
But all in all, Steve had enjoyed the dinner Eddie prepared and given him the most legs-shaking blowjob ever when they were watching TV on the couch.
Later that night, having Steve snore blissfully in his arms, Eddie decided that the date was more than a success.
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ravens-two · 2 days
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PAC: Your Next Romantic Relationship
This reading includes:
the person you'll be dating next
The extended reading includes:
when and how you'll meet this person
what the relationship will be like
any 18+ messages
Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone. Also, this content is 18+ only!
TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC
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Pile 1
Who are you dating next
Eight of Cups, Moon, Tarragon - Regeneration
The first thing I'm getting for this person is that they could be a scientist or work in research, maybe even as a teacher. They seem like really deep thinkers and people who are very well-read or that tend to read a lot. Besides spending a lot of time and energy on their work - that seems to be their passion - they also look like they really enjoy traveling. Some of them may have to travel for work (and now I'm seeing that some are archeologists or something like that), but most seem to travel for pleasure. No matter what your next person is someone who has travelled a lot and has seen a lot of the world - and even if they haven't travelled "that much" it could be that you haven't travelled much at all so that's why it seems so much.
Your person is also a very deep thinker. I'm getting something very specific about them which is that they like to get to the depth of any subject. Let's say that you're talking about your favourite dishes, your person wants to get to the bottom of the subject, they want to analyze why you love those dishes, the memories you have of them, how hard or easy they are to cook, then they may get into the culinary arts in general or the history of food or something like that. Do you know what I mean? Once you start talking about something with them it's like they unravel the subject as if it were a ball of yarn.
Your person seems to be an introvert. They don't really like crowds and tend not to go out or party too much, they prefer to keep to their friend group or to small groups in general. I feel that this is also related to how much and how deeply they like to talk, it's better suited for smaller groups. For some of you it might also surprise you that this person is more spiritual than you thought. They might not practice anything in particular (including religion), but they very much believe in something bigger than them and are very open to the spiritual side of things. This is also someone who has been through a lot and has had to reinvent themselves multiple times. I feel like your person is very wise and has a lot of life experience specifically because of this - they've just been through so much shit that would have broken down any other person.
When it comes to their appearance I'm seeing pale skin - and depending on skin tone you can even see their veins - and dark hair. Mostly black and brown hair, but I'm also seeing red (dyed I think).  In general, they seem to be taller and leaner. Even for the men they don't like they are very muscled. I'm also seeing that some of them have dark circles under their eyes. So what I just heard was that they "look a bit like a fucked up Tim Burton character come to life" lol. I do think that they are good-looking but in that Timothée Chalamet type of way. Also, I think that your person has huge eyes!
check out the extended reading on patreon
Pile 2
Who are you dating next
Three of Wands, Strength, Marigold - Positivity
The first thing I'm seeing for this pile is tanned skin and defined muscles. Your person looks like they spend the whole day under the sun. I'm literally seeing them wet as if they had just come out of water. An interesting detail I just got is that they have body hair, especially for the men they seem to have hair on their chest and tights. I feel like for most of you this person has really dark eyes, the lightest color I can see here is a darker shade of hazel eyes. No matter what they have warm and very expressive eyes. It's the type of eyes that you feel safe just looking at them, honestly.
Speaking of warmth and safety I think that your person just radiates those vibes, especially if they're a man. They seem/are someone who's reliable and handy, basically someone who you can call at any time of day or night and you know that they'll find some way to help you. They also seem the type of person who really cares about the safety of your friends, not just yours. This is very specific to some of you, it doesn't really apply to everyone, but your person also has a bit of a himbo energy. Like they have a really good heart, very good looking and strong looking too, but not much going on in their pretty head. But, again, this is just for some of you! For most of you this is someone who is pretty smart and very aware of the current political/social climate.
One of the main things I'm seeing is that your person is very hopeful and definitely an optimist. They try to cheer you up whenever they feel like you're feeling down or when you need just an extra push of motivation. The thing that keeps coming up though is that isn't just for you it's for your friends, their friends, the people around you two. It makes me think of those guys who only want to buy a drink to the girl they're interested in instead of the whole group and it's the polar opposite of that. If you're hanging out with your person and your friends, your person will make sure to treat your friends well and make them feel welcomed.
For some reason I feel like your person might be a firefighter or EMT, I'm not sure why, but it seems like more of a physical/manual type of work. This person doesn't look like they're sitting behind a desk the whole day. They might work the night shift too. No matter what they do, their work is a source of satisfaction for them and their "way to contribute to society" so it's important that their work aligns with their values. This person has a bleeding heart and they're always trying to help whenever they can. They might do volunteer work or community work of some kind, but this is someone who really cares about their community and the world around them. A bit random, but your person might cry very easily, just like watching a commercial or something like that. It seems that they are very emotional. A bit like pile 1 in that sense, but I also feel that your person has been through a lot and that's exactly what made them kinder and made them worry more about the people around them. Very, very specific but I think that hunger and poverty is something that really "hurts" them if that makes sense. It would be the thing that they would just erase if they could.
check out the extended reading on patreon
Pile 3
Who are you dating next
Sun, World, Sweet corn - Ritual
Okay, the first thing I'm seeing is that your person loves eating and cooking and feeding people to be honest. They see meals almost as a sacred ritual that helps to create stronger bonds with other people. I feel like they're really good cooks, especially because they have a good palate. Your person also seems like the type of person that is really close to their family, like calling/texting them every day, sharing a meal together every weekend, that kind of stuff.
This person might have OCD or something like that, but their daily rituals seem very important to them. They are someone who loves routine and feel a bit anxious when things don't go as they had planned. Honestly, that seems to be the biggest issue for them they get really disappointed/annoyed when they plan something and it doesn't happen, even in simple things. Let's say that you two plan to go watch a movie and eat popcorn, but when you get there there ins't popcorn. Well your person is devastated. It's only for a couple of moments, but yeah it really hits them strong.
With the Sun and the World though, this is a very successful and hard-working person, but also someone who is very happy go lucky. Like they genuinely believe that life is beautiful and a miracle and they will romanticize even the smallest things. They seem like the type of person who will just tell you "it's going to be fine" even in the face of something absolutely tragic and that couldn't possibly "be fine" (somehow they may end up being right though).
They seem to have a very child-like and radiant personality too if that makes sense. In a way it's because they really attract other people's attention just for being themselves, but also because they just seem so genuinely happy and joyful. When they laugh it makes other people want to laugh as well. You may get an instinct to protect them at times, because it seems that they are too innocent for this harsh world. They're definitely dreamers and they think that even the smallest action can change the world. They have strong beliefs about what they think is wrong with the world and what should be changed.
When it comes to appearance I'm seeing blonde or light brown hair, maybe even some ginger here too or maybe a brass tone. In general, I'm seeing really long hair, especially for the women, and mostly wavy or curly. Although I think that the shorter your person's hair is the curlier it is. For their eyes I also lighter eyes here, even the brown eyes are more of a honey shade. The most striking thing though is that your person - no matter what they look like - is very beautiful. They get other people's attention precisely because of how physically striking they are. I feel like they tend to be very symmetrical and their bodies are very good looking too. It seems that they tend to be taller and curvier, both men and women.
check out the extended reading on patreon
Pile 4
Who are you dating next
Two of Wands, Ten of Wands, Peppermint - Success
While doing the reading for this pile "Ocean Eyes" suddenly came up so I really feel like your person is probably going to have blue or green eyes, maybe even hazel too. I also feel like their eyes have this very emotional quality to them, it's like you could get lost them in them because they're so expressive. Honestly, I get a very big Ian Somerhalder vibe here like with the dark hair and very light eyes and that contrast. I think that in general your person is a person of contrasts, of light and dark and even contradictions.
Do you know that Walt Whitman's poem "Do I contradict myself? / Very well then I contradict myself / (I am large I contain multitudes)"? I think that they really embody these lines. I'm also getting Fernando Pessoa's "I am nothing. / I shall never be anything. / I cannot even wish to be anything. / Apart from this, I have within me all the dreams in the world." Your person is very, very poetic pile 4. Maybe they're into literature (especially the classics) or they really love reading/writing poetry. This person is very deep, but again, filled with contradictions. They are hard to understand because they seem to be many things all at once. It's a very Gemini energy to be honest.
Apart from this your person is also very successful. They may come from money or they worked really hard until they got to where they are. No matter what though they dedicate a lot of their time to their work, to the point that they can't even rest properly because they can't take their mind off work. Some of them might also have some personal project or a business that they feel very passionate about and are just waiting for the right time to "launch" it. They're someone who makes a lot of plans, but not like in pile 3, more in the sense of making a plan to break down the steps that they need to take. This is for organization not control, if that makes sense. They also seem to really enjoy traveling, but either don't have much time for it or they end up getting tired in the middle of their trip. They feel like the type of person who has wanderlust, but also gets homesick easily. 
They are introverts for sure, and although this doesn't mean that they're antisocial it really does feel like they spend more time at home or by themselves. To me this feels more like they never really get the company that they crave. They really need mental stimulation, and the people around them can't really offer them that. Something that's coming up is that they might struggle with the little demon and angel on their shoulders sometimes. I feel like the little devil sometimes really wants them to cause some mischief or chaos and they try to control this. Honestly, what I'm getting from this is that they may annoy you on purpose, for their own amusement. I don't think that this is toxic, it's more meaningless stuff that will make you laugh rather than really annoy you.
What I can tell you pile 4 is that your person is very, very unique. I think you'll know it's them as soon as you meet them because you'll think that you've never met someone like this.
check out the extended reading on patreon
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white-poppie · 23 hours
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ JJK DADS! ⎯ ft. jjk men: (Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji)
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SYNOPSIS: Cute incidences of them being fatherly <3
A/N: I gave no names to the kids so you guys can imagine whatever you wanna except Toji cause we have baby Megumi :) Is it obvious that Nanami is my absolute favourite?? <33
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
The two of you are woken up by the faint cries of your baby girl in the next room.
You sigh and rest your arm over your eyes, tired from the entire day of tending to her, "She just slept..." You mumble exhausted and begrudgingly about to get up.
"Stay in the bed, let me take care of her." Gojo murmurs. The sheets rustle as he gets up and walks towards your baby's room, gently picking up the little girl in his arms. She's always so tiny in his arms, he's afraid of holding too tight. Her little fingers that curl around his--she's the prettiest thing in the world (along with her mama of course.)
"What's wrong, baby ?" He whispers, cradling her to his chest as checks her temperature, and pats her diaper; everything seems to be okay. She's not hungry because she had milk just a little while ago.
Satoru sighs and rubs his thumb over her chubby cheeks, wiping the tears that rolled down her eyes, it broke his heart to see his baby girl cry.
Satoru walks to your bedroom with her in his arms and looks at you. "I checked her diaper and she doesn't have a temperature." He murmurs and you nod while playing on the bed.
"She's probably just restless." You reply. "Rocking her while singing works." you say and his eyes soften as he looks at the little bundle of joy in his arms.
His brain racks through the records of all the lullabies he knows until he figures the best one. He pouts and looks back at you, "Don't laugh at me, alright?" he mumbles and you chuckle with a nod.
Gojo clears his throat and starts singing, its off-key, a little hoarse and you have to bite you lips to prevent from laughing out. Surprisingly her cries start to stifle, simmering into soft sniffles as he continues to sing till eventually they stop completely and so does Satoru's comical singing.
You can't help but aww at the way Satoru looks at her, cerulean eyes so full of love, so tender that you could melt. His forehead leaning against hers, "She's so pretty," he says for the nth time in today only, his voice carrying the same amount of warmth and affection each time he says it.
"Our little baby," he mumbles fondly.
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𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
“Ouch” Geto groaned as his son tugged on his hair while trying to braid it with Nanako and Mimiko.
“Easy champ-“ he scrunched his nose as he looked over at his older adoptive daughters who just shrugged and giggled.
“Why do I need three hair dressers for my hair?" he sighs and looks over at you who is calmly scrolling on your phone while he gets tortured.
"They like your hair a lot." you smile, clicking a picking of the unruly braids your toddler tied up.
Getou chuckles and picks up the boy at which the little boy whines, his little feet kicking around in the air before he plops down on his lap with a little pout.
"Dada, hair." he sniffles in his cute baby voice at which getou chuckles.
"Sorry to break it to you buddy but we are already removing 'hair-dresser' from your future career list." he sighs, making the twins laugh.
"No hair?" the boy confirms with a little pout and Getou shakes his head. "No hair," he replies back.
The kid shimmies around in his lap, asking to be put down, Getou sighs and puts the boy down, before he sprints, his chubby feet making a little 'thap thap' sound as they hit against the marble flooring.
"Where is he running off to?" Mimiko asks.
"He's gone to your room, let me go check what he is up to," you say as you follow him behind to the twins' room.
You walk into the room, only to find the little boy picking up the little bow clip on the girls' dresser and you smile; immediately understanding what goes on in the two-year-old's mind.
He runs back and stands with the clip in front of Getou, Nanako and Mimiko.
"Hey, that's mine!" Nanako exclaims and Haru just laughs, gesturing his dad to bend down a little and Getou does what the boy asked for. Haru puts the clip right on his front hair and grins proudly.
"Pretty!" He smiles, causing all four of you to erupt into chuckles.
The boy tilts his head and looks back at you, "Truck-clip." He mumbles and chuckles.
"You want a clip with a truck on it?" You ask and he nods, drawing another laugh from Getou.
"You are such a peculiar kid." He says, smiling fondly with the bow-clip still on his head.
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𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
You had just returned from a long day at work, your meetings stretched a little longer than you had assumed, so you called Nanami asked him to pick your daughter up from kindergarten.
It was 8 right now. You sighed and removed your shoes, walking in.
"I'm home." you murmur as you walk into the living area.
"Mama!" your little girl exclaimed and you smiled before your eyes widened as you took in the scene.
Your husband and daughter sat on her pink table set with Kento sitting down on the floor, crisscrossed, a plastic teacup in his hand. Around the table are many of her stuffed toys, each having a cup of their own.
Kento's nails are messily painted pink with nail polish and a tiara on his head. Your daughter wearing her tinted kid-safe lip balm in an unruly manner, a beaded necklace and bracelets adorning her and finally a tiara on her for a finishing touch.
"Welcome home honey," Nanami says with a sigh, scratching his head with the empty tea cup.
"Daddy! You'll spill the tea!" Your daughter exclaims and your husband obediently keeps the tea cup back on the saucer.
"Sorry princess." He says with a smile and you can't help but laugh.
"Mama, join us!" she says and you nod, sitting beside Kento as she fetches a tea cup and saucer for you and you bow in respect.
"Thank you, princess." You smile. "So, what's the storyline?" you inquire.
"I am the princess of a castle and daddy is the king of another castle, can be...the stable guy." She says and your jaw drops. kento bites his lip to prevent himself from laughing.
"Why am I dealing with horses?" you ask offended.
"Because I have only two crowns." She justifies and you sigh before you feel a crown being placed on your head. You look over at Kento as he fixes it on your hair.
"Doesn't mommy look prettier with the crown?" he says, his deep voice sending butterflies in your stomach. "I can be the loyal servant instead." He says and looks back at his daughter with a soft smile.
"You are right, mama looks better in the crown," she says and fetches the teapot, pouring imaginary tea into your pot.
"Thank you, my princess." You say, taking a sip of the imaginary tea as you shift closer to Kento, your shoulders touching together and he smiles, looking down as he brushes your hair behind your ear.
"Daddy and Mama are in love!" Your daughter says with a toothy grin and you snort.
"At this rate, you might just get a sibling before the tea party finishes," Nanami says, squeezing your waist.
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𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
"Why did Mom even marry you anyway?" Megumi asks Toji who is sitting crisscrossed on the couch next to the 5-year-old, munching on the bowl of popcorn him and Megumi are sharing.
"Don't you think you talk too much?" Toji asks, dusting of his hands as he sighs and looks at the kid. "Fine I'll pause my movie." He says giving up. Megumi had been asking him to put on a movie of his choice for the past 5 minutes. Toji is the one who is supposed to be taking care of him, not the other way around!
"What do you want to watch then?" he grumbles, looking annoyed.
"Zootopia." Megumi says almost proudly and Toji nods with a groan, putting on the movie.
Toji leans back as he is forced to watch another kids movie, his hand fetching for some more popcorn before his large rugged hand is met with a tiny soft one. Toji looks over and sees Megumi looking at the TV while trying to fetch for the popcorn, touching everywhere but the popcorn bowl.
Toji smirks and picks up a fistful in his hand as he holds his hand close to Megumi. Megumi looks at his father, confused for a second before he hesitantly takes a piece.
"You need to eat more if you want to grow taller, If you are any shorter than 6 feet 2, I won't claim you as my son in a few years." He says as he keeps holding the popcorn in his hand, his arms bulked up enough to do this for hours end with ease.
"This movie is not that dogshit," Toji says as he watches the weird animal movie.
"Stop swearing in front of me." Megumi whines and Toji just smirks, ruffling his head with his other arm.
"You are growing up too fast for your own good."
You come back home a few hours later from your gathering, half expecting the house to be on fire, but to your surprise its oddly quiet.
You walk into the living room and you see an empty bowl of popcorn on the table and Megumi laying on his father as Toji's arms were draped around him protectively.
You sigh and let out a soft smile. You are home.
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leaderwonim · 3 days
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unconditional love. ✧ park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: bittersweet fluff, coming of age angst
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you liked park sunghoon, you truly did. he was kind, intelligent, and had that soft introverted persona on the outside.
when you got to know him, he became the most funny and loudest person to ever exist, which had your heart doing backflips.
it wasn’t him that was the issue. it was you. you always had commitment issues, never being able to settle down because of your past pulling you behind. i mean—how could anyone ever like you? you felt as thought you were too loud, too annoying, too irritable, just too much.
despite your brain constantly bringing you down, park sunghoon loved you. he loved every single piece of you, the way you’d blow your perfect hair out of your face as you concentrated on the textbook in front of you, the way your eyebrows would furrow when you didn’t quite catch a question or answer, the way you’d prop your head onto your knees as a way to comfort yourself.
god, park sunghoon swore you were the one. he didn’t care that his friends warned him about your earned title of being a ghoster when it came to relationships, he didn’t care that it felt like he was constantly putting in more effort than you.
as long as he’s got you, he doesn’t care. so how did the two of you end up in this situation?
“i don’t get it,” sunghoon frowns, “what did i do wrong?”
“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say exasperatedly, “in fact, you were perfect sunghoon. you were everything i wanted and more—it’s just me.”
park sunghoon hated the classic it’s me not you excuse when it came to situations like these. but because it’s you, he lets it slide, even though he already feels the tears coming.
“i don’t want to hurt you any longer, hoonie. you have to understand i’m ending this because i care about you too much to put you through hell.”
sunghoon solemnly nods, knowing whatever he’ll say won’t change anything, that it’s already too late and you’ve already made up your mind.
it’s cruel, he thinks. life. how it could be so depressing and meekly all at once.
it wasn’t until a year later that sunghoon and you crossed paths again. you two were now sophomores in college, and had even attended the same university.
you had gotten a boyfriend, finally deciding to settle down after maturing and realizing how much of a piece of shit you were to all the boys at your high school.
his name was heeseung and he had treated you like a princess, reminding you of how sunghoon used to treat you back in senior year.
now here you were, sitting on one of the university steps with your head hung low. your parents had given you the call about them divorcing, right in the middle of your sophomore year. you were miles away, and was heartbroken knowing your family was splitting in two without you being there physically to support them.
“hey, you okay?”
you knew that voice better than anyone.
“hoon?” you sniffle. “i’m sorry—why am i even calling you that.”
“it’s okay.” he reassures you, patting your back as he takes a seat. “what’s wrong?”
“parents are getting divorce,” you scoff. “guess thats karma for all the things i put you through.”
“don’t say that.” sunghoon gently wipes away your tears, frowning when he sees more appear.
“you shouldn’t even be comforting me, i treated you like shit sunghoon, i got a new boyfriend right after i said i couldn’t settle down with you.”
“who cares?” sunghoon says, and for the first time, you don’t see the romantic love he used to have in his eyes for you. “we’re young! of course you’re going to find other people.”
you’re in awe at the maturity sunghoon is displaying. you knew it took a lot of courage for him to do so.
“why are you being so nice, sunghoon?”
“the world is already cruel, yn.” sunghoon sighs. “so therefore, i won’t be.”
and although his words won’t stop the divorce of your parents or the sadness filling your chest, it makes you feel a tad bit lighter, knowing that you had someone like park sunghoon in your life.
187 notes · View notes
autistichalsin · 8 hours
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I think one understated part of Halsin's character is that he was never bad at leadership per se; rather, he was bad at Druidic leadership, and almost all of this was because of a combination of trauma and moral conflict.
The part about trauma has been discussed many times, but suffice to say, Halsin being forced into a leadership position he never wanted or asked for? It was traumatic. He lost the previous Archdruid, a man he admired greatly, to a curse he blamed himself for, which also claimed nearly every friend he had: "it would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost." He then was forced into said Archdruid's role, not allowed to heal from his trauma, and not allowed any confidantes, because the few friends who survived the battle were now his subordinates instead of his peers. He went from Halsin Silverbough to Master Halsin. It is no wonder, then, that resentment towards the role built to the point that he began looking for any excuse not to fill that role, and that's before you factor in the additional motivation of wanting to see the Shadow Curse broken and seeing the Emerald Enclave refusing to help him.
He says himself he hates the role for forcing him to spend less time in nature to handle the other Druids' problems. He would rather be in nature than solve the personal problems of the Druids. And of course, by the time he leaves, this resentment is far from onesided, as now more Druids than not have lost respect for Halsin. Yes, a lot of this is due to Kagha's manipulations, but also? A lot of this is very clearly due to a conflict of ideals.
For example, Druids are supposed to loathe the undead, yet Halsin cherishes Astarion's presence. He views them as worthy of respect and a place in the world, and sees them as distinct from beings that are both unnatural and inherently evil. This is a MAJOR difference in ideals. This likely contributed to many ideological conflicts between Halsin and the others.
And of course, Druidic leadership, at least here, is implied to be somewhat authoritarian in nature; even the Druids who hate what Kagha is doing refuse to make a true stand against her, and will join in on the Druid's side fighting against the Tieflings if the conflict started. It implies an authoritarian, "my leader for right or for wrong" structure.
By contrast, in the epilogue, when Halsin is at his happiest, he is in a leadership role, yet rather than being Master Halsin, he is Alderman Halsin, and he doesn't command the commune; he guides them, with help from others as more of an elder than anything. He is partially in charge of managing conflicts between those at his commune, yet it doesn't take him away from nature, and he feels he has a place there he truly belongs. Because instead of being forced to be something he's not, he is being allowed to use the skills he has to make everyone, himself included, happy. He is allowed to have friends and peers, and is allowed the family/children he was never allowed to have when making endless, unappreciated sacrifices at the Grove.
In short, what Halsin wanted was to be a mentoring sort of leader, not an authoritarian one, yet the Druidic structures forced him to be the latter, when he never wanted the role at all, and after a highly traumatic event to boot, and with him being forced to follow beliefs that were at times contrary to his own values.
Halsin was in many ways a poor archdruid, but he wasn't a poor leader.
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dancingtotuyo · 21 hours
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High Infidelity Part V
Joel Miller x Female Reader
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Rating: Mature Explicit
Summary: Tommy is released, but he only pushes you further into Joel's arms.
Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child
Warnings: prison, mentions of war, fighting, LOTS OF TEARS, emotional and physical affair, cheating boundaries, smut (P in V), Oral sex (F receiving)
Notes: And so we reach the end of this story. I know there's a lot to wrap up. Thank you all for all your amazing comments and thoughts over the last month. It really means the world to me.
I know I say this every chapter but a huge thanks to @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin. They have beta'ed every chapter one top of listening to me scream about this story for hours over the course of months! I adore you both so much
Words: 7234
Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources
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They warn you that Tommy’s transition home will be difficult. An adjustment period they call it. You prepare for him to struggle, thinking he would try to leave the house in search of trouble, but it’s the opposite. Joel picks him up from work in the morning and drops him off in the evening. Then he goes out on the back deck and drinks sitting out there in utter silence. At first, you join him, letting Nathaniel play in the backyard but he refuses to talk, hardly looks your way. Sometimes he tracks Nathaniel, but not all the time. He seems so far away, like he had those first couple months home after Desert Storm, but he came back to you, as Your Tommy. At least for a little bit. 
At night, he pulls you into his arms without a word. He holds you until you fall asleep, but on several occasions, you wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. Usually he’s sitting on the bed or standing as he stares out the window. Sometimes you hear him pacing the house. You don’t talk about it. You don’t talk about much anymore except for the weather. He’s ultra focused on the weather it seems. 
He hasn’t tried to touch you. Sexually that is. Any kiss he lays on you is chaste almost like it’s his duty, but sometimes you catch more behind it, like he’s pushing down his own desires. When you try to progress things, he walks away. 
It hurts. A lot. 
You have Julia and Micky over for dinner a month after Tommy’s release. Tommy comes out of his shell a little bit. He wears a smile, laughs with his head thrown back at some inside joke Micky cracks. He looks easy, relaxed for once. Under the table, his hand lands on your thigh sending little jolts of electricity through your body. He’s feeding you more and more loose threads of his old self to hold on to. The ever present tension in your chest eases. You hate that it feels like you can breathe again. A small, small assurance that he will come back to you in time. 
Micky and Tommy take the boys outside after dinner. Micky talks about a support group for Veterans he goes to. You watch from the window, you can’t hear them, but you see when  Tommy brushes him off, his body going rigid. You try to push it out of your mind, but you already feel the threads slipping through your fingers as you push back tears with a glass of water. 
Tommy goes to bed before you that night, but when you slip into bed, he still pulls you into his arms. When you wake up a couple hours later, Tommy stands by the window, gazing out of it like a statue keeping watch. 
You don’t usually say anything. You don’t let him know you know he’s not sleeping, but something tugs you into an upright position. “Tommy.”
He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. You get no indication that he even hears you. You throw back the covers, joining him next to the window. You repeat his name, laying a hand on his shoulder. You catch a small twinge in his jaw. “Come back to bed?”
His eyes dart from the moon to his feet. He leans away from you, just enough for you to pick up on it. You can’t ignore the stab of hurt that shoots through your body. Your hands fall back like you’ve been burned. You wish you had the energy to yell at him, fight him, but you don’t, so you crawl back into bed, back turned to him. Silent tears soak your pillow before you fall back asleep. 
Tommy’s gaze moves to your still frame, praying for a release from the chains he can’t seem to shake. The ones that he keeps hurting you with, but he doesn't know where to find the keys. 
So life continues like that. Weekly dinners with Micky and Julia, glimpses of Tommy and threads that slip through your fingers. Most days it feels like one step forward and two steps back. Your patiences frays, your emotions unraveling each time he pushes you away only to pull you close at the end of the day. You’re not sure what does it, if you’ve reached the end of your rope, completely unraveled, or multiple tantrums Nathaniel threw all day, but when he reaches for you one night, you snap. 
“Stop.” You pull out of his reach.
“What’s wrong?”
Dry laughter falls out of you as you roll out of the bed. “What’s wrong? What’s not wrong?”
“Baby…”
“No, you don’t get to try and soothe me!” You bite your lip, trying to keep the tears of the past months from your eyes. You can’t break down right now, in front of him. “You’re pushing me away! I’m trying to be here for you, I really am, Tommy, but I am exhausted! I don’t know what to do.”
He looks away, body looking deflated. “I don’t know why you’re still here.”
“No- Stop,” you hold your hands up. “You know why I’m here. I love you, but love only gets us so far.”
“I’m trying-”
“No, you’re not.”
“You don’t know-”
“People who are trying don’t sit out on the porch and ignore their family every night! They don’t ignore their wife!”
“If that’s how you feel, maybe you should just leave me now!” he snaps. “No need to delay the inevitable.”
It pulls the air from you like a punch to the gut. Tears well in your eyes. “Is that what you want?”
He looks away from you again. You march up to him, grabbing his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “Tell me!” 
There’s nothing in his eyes, they’re the same eyes you fell in love with, but they’re hollow now. It sends a heartbreaking chill through your body. His eyes fall to the corner, the only way he can get away from your searing gaze. 
You drop his face, stepping away before you lose it in front of him. “Okay then.” 
You can’t stay here, in the room, in your home. Tommy hangs his head as you flee from his presence. The house rattles when the front door slams behind you. Only then, does Tommy let the apathy bleed out of his body and the tears fall. 
A knock on the front door jolts Joel awake. The TV plays lowly, casting harsh light and shadows across the dark living room. He feels confused, disoriented. Another knock pulls him through the fog a little bit. He opens the door to find you, tears streaming down your face. You push past him, crossing the threshold without an invitation. You don’t need one. 
“What’s wrong, Darlin?”
You inhale, preparing to let the words out, to scream if necessary, and then your whole chest quivers, and the tears pour out again sending you into a blubbering mess. Joel’s arms wrap around you, pulling you to the couch before you collapse right in front of him. 
He leaves you for a minute. The faucet runs in the kitchen. Joel sets a cool, heavy glass in your hands, watching over you with concern knit brows. Every time you try to talk, your chest rattles again and tears overpower you.
“It’s okay. Take your time.”
You sip at the water, rotating between complete serenity and total chaos. Every time you think you might be able to speak, the words turn into incoherent sobs. Finally, you give up trying to talk until the glass is empty. Joel takes the glass from your hands, setting it on the coffee table. You don’t attempt to talk until your breathing is fully evened out. Joel holds your shoulders, thumbs running smoothly over your skin.
“I’m just so fucking tired,” you say. “All the time.”
Joel frowns. “Tommy?”
“He won’t talk to me.” The tears gather behind your eyes again, creating pressure in your head. You feel the blubbering start to return. “I knew things would be hard, but he just acts like I’m not even there half the time.”
“Is he going out again?” 
You shake your head. “No- he’s home all the time, sulking, being mad at the world for whatever reason he can come up with. I’ve tried so hard. I don’t know what else to do.” Hot tears spill from your eyes. “It shouldn’t be this hard. I’m used to doing everything alone- but now I’m doing it with a ghost in my home. It wears on a person, and tonight- “ It hurts like citrus in a fresh cut to think about.  
“Come here.” Joel sighs, feeling his heartache for you. He pulls you into his chest, allowing you to soak his shirt until it sticks to his skin. His hand caresses your back, doing his best to soothe you as best he can. Though by now, he’s a pro at it. 
Eventually, your head falls into his lap. The sobs don't seem to rattle your body the same, but the tears don’t stop. 
Annoyance begins to grow in Joel. How many more times does he have to do this before you come to your senses? He thought Tommy’s stint in prison would help, yet here you are still crying on his couch. This can’t keep happening. It’s not fair to you. 
Joel loves his brother. He would do anything in this world for him, except when it comes to you. Because Joel loves you too. He loves you more and in more ways than a brother-in-law should. He hasn’t minded being just your brother-in-law and friend until now. You deserve better. 
When you finally sit up, wiping the tears from your eyes, he knows he won’t be able to stop the words at the cusp of his mouth. 
“What time is it?” You look at the clock on the wall with a sigh. “I should go home.”
“Darlin,” Joel grabs your chin. Your eyes snap to his. There’s a seriousness in his eyes you’re not sure you’ve seen before. “How long are you gonna let him keep doing this to you?”
“What?”
“You know what I mean.”
You close your eyes for a second. Another tear falls with your eyelashes. Joel swipes it away with his thumb. “What am I supposed to do, Joel? Where would we go?”
“You could stay here until you find somethin.”
A little huff of laughter manages to escape. “Yes, I’m sure Sarah would love having us invade her space when there’s a perfectly good house down the street.”
“She wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t want to leave him.” You put your hand on Joel’s wrist. “He’s a dick, but I love him.”
“It’s killing me to see you like this. You deserve better.”
He’s right. You know he’s right, but there’s something else in his eyes. The way he’s looking at you. There’s a heat in his gaze, something that feels so familiar, but you haven’t seen Tommy in years, the same look you saw that night at the beach. It sends tingles through your bloodstream, little pinpricks of excitement like the night you got yourself off in his bed, said his name and then heard him. You’ve managed to push down the question until now, but you know for certain now. He heard you. You swallow, your breath feeling like it’s being pulled out of your lungs. 
Do you tell him what Tommy said tonight? Do you tell him that you heard him that night? Do you tell him you’re being pulled into different directions?
“Joel…”
His hand falls to your waist. The other cups your neck. You feel like you’re falling toward him, helpless to stop the inevitable. “I’ve got you, Darlin.”
He’s been here. He’s always been here for you at the drop of a hat. Your firm foundation when it felt like the rest of the world was sinking. You always assumed you were just a promise he made to his brother, but what he’s been to you and what you’ve been to him, it’s more than a promise to a brother. It’s more than a love for family. 
It sparks a flame inside you. You haven’t been looked at like that in years. Haven’t been touched in just as long. Tommy hasn’t made a single move on you since he got out. He’s run every time you’ve tried to initiate something. 
Your eyes dip to his lips, centimeters from your own. Joel echoes the statement again, quieter this time as your lips touch his. He shutters under you, lips quick to take over. Arms wrap around your waist. You’re thankful for it. Thankful not to have to think about any of it. Content to let him have complete control as you straddle him.
He inhales with a faint shake to his breath, lips still touching yours. Then, he returns in full force, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth. His hands crawl up your body, greedy and searching. You give in, nails wracking through his hair. Years of pent-up desire behind both of your movements. 
You play with the top buttoning of his shirt, popping them open, lightly scraping your nails across his chest. A moan reverberates from his chest. The bulge in his pants grows against your crotch, sending electricity through your veins. You tug at another button before Joel’s hand covers yours. He manages to pull away just barely. 
“What’s wrong?”
“Not here.” He pants. “Sarah.”
Your eyes widen, realizing how easily you could’ve been spotted by your niece. Joel caresses your jaw, eyes hooded with lust. He bucks his hips up, brushing your clothed crotch again. You gasp, making him smirk. 
His voice is raspy with need. “Gotta get you into my bed, Darlin.”
You barely manage to pull yourself off his lap, your legs feeling like wet noodles. Joel smiles, he grabs your hand, tugging you behind him. He’s quiet on the stairs, eyes glued to Sarah’s bedroom door the entire way up. 
His bedroom door clicks softly behind you, your shirt thrown off before Joel can turn around. He lets out an appreciative groan, pulling his own shirt off as he stalks toward you. Want pools low in your belly, the walls of your aching cunt clench. Your breath quickens as he edges nearer, a solid arm wrapping around your waist. His contained erection pushes against you making you grin. “Happy to see me?”
“More than you know,” he growls, kissing you again. Hand roaming your exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You moan softly and then a little bit louder. Joel shakes his head. “Music to my fucking ears baby.”
He pulls and tugs at your bra, unable to get it opened to the point you’re worried he broke a clasp. Finally, you pull it over your head and let it land with your shirt. He takes you in, topless in his bedroom for just him to see. You’re a fucking work of art, water to a wanderer in the desert. 
He cups one of your breasts, pulls the other one into his mouth. You gasp, head falling back, moisture collecting in your underwear. His thumb plays with your exposed nipples while his tongue swirls over the other. You moan his name softly, being cautious of your volume.
He palms himself through his jeans, switching to your other breast as he does. You fight the urge to fall back on the bed, hands playing in his hair, nails scratching his scalp. He hums softly against your chest, sending an extra wave of pleasure through your body. He pulls back, saliva connecting the two of you, eyes glued to yours. He kisses you until the back of your knees hit his mattress, but he doesn’t let you fall to the bed yet. 
“How long has it been?” he says, muffled against your lips. His fingers play with the button of your pants
“What?”
“How long has it been?” He pulls back, the button of your pants popping open as he sinks to his knees.
Confusion flashes through your face until you realize what he’s saying, what he’s asking. You swallow, unsure of how to answer. 
“Darlin?”
It’s embarrassing because you can’t remember the last time you were touched like this. You shake your head. “I don’t know. Before?”
The sound from his throat is guttural, almost a growl. He’s been out for three months. Three fucking months and he hasn’t bothered to touch his wife. 
Joel tugs your jeans down, pressing a kiss just below your belly button, continuing down to the band of your underwear. Your pussy clenches again, dripping with need. 
“Lay down.”
You obey, bottom hitting the soft mattress first and then your back. His smell is everywhere now, seeping into your skin, just as it always has when you curled up in his bed. 
His hands run up the length of your torso, tweaking your nipples before sliding down, continuing over your thighs. He pulls your jeans free, pressing his nose to your center. “Smell so good for me, baby.”
Your stomach flutters, hips pressing into his face. He lets out a low chuckle. “I’m going to take care of you, Darlin. Don’t you worry.” 
You whine, hands gripping the sheets beside you. “Please, Joel.”
He tugs your underwear down, tortuously slow. His fingers trace down the entirety of your legs. You can see just enough under the hood of your lust-filled eyes. He props both of your legs on his shoulders, pressing slow kisses to the inside of each leg as he edges closer and closer to your core. 
When he gets there, he pauses, eyes locking on yours. It’s intentional. You have the urge to cuss him out if he doesn’t put his mouth on you soon. The need is strong enough you could cry or scream of frustration. 
Slowly, he spreads your legs, fingers creeping toward your sopping folds. He runs his pinky through them, barely nudging your clit, but it’s enough to have your back arching off the mattress. He grins up at you. He spreads you further. The evidence of your arousal glistens in the dim lights. “Fuck, Baby. So wet for me.”
You bite your lip to keep from yelling at him. “Please, Joel.” Your voice is hoarse and strained already. 
He groans, practically falling into your spread pussy. His tongue flattens against you, running the length of your folds. Your hands tangle in his hair, repeated moans falling from your lips, ones you both know you’re holding back for the sake of being quiet. You’re seeing stars and he’s barely touched you. 
Joel wants to take his time, savor the moment, memorize every piece of you. He wants to pull you apart piece by piece and put you back together again. He knows he may not get another opportunity again, but you’re addicting. He wants to pull those sounds from you on a loop and feast on your juices. He sucks your clit, swirling his tongue around it, eliciting another glorious moan from you. Each one grows louder until he pulls away for the briefest second and a pillow hits your face. 
“As much as I wanna hear you, Darlin. Use that.” He grins. “Don’t hold back on me anymore.”
His mouth is on you, doubling his efforts. Bringing you to the edge of bliss. You’re so close, moans filling the pillow case that smells like him. He inserts a finger, giving you something to clench around, softly brushing against your walls. His tongue laps over your clit and the tension building in you snaps in one beautiful crescendo. 
His thumb replaces his tongue as he works you through your orgasm, chest heaving as you catch your breath. “That’s right. Just like that.”
You toss the pillow to the side, locking eyes with him. He smirks at you, pressing a kiss over your hip. He leaves behind some of your juices, his face slick with them. Standing back to his feet, he undoes his belt shucking off his jeans and boxers. 
Your breath catches again as you hurry to sit up. He chuckles at you, catching your hands in his as you reach for him, for his cock. He pushes you back down to the bed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “As much as I’d enjoy that, Darlin. It was all I could do not to finish in my pants like a damn teenager.” 
Your breath quivers against him, words barely coherent in your brain. He releases one of your hands, reaching into his drawer for a condom.
 “Joel, I-” Your hand runs down his side, soaking in the feel of his skin. “Please.” It’s all you can manage. Years of pent-up desire begging to be freed. 
He smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on him. 
He rips open the foil packet. Your eyes follow his every movement as he rolls it over his cock. Once it’s on he crawls onto the bed, hovering over you, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and stars. He’s your oasis in the desert and you’re his. Your hands roam his back and shoulders and hair. He leans into your touch, soft noises of contentment falling from his lips. 
Before you know what you’re doing, you manage to flip him onto his back. His arms fly out, a thunk sounding through the room as his wrist collides with the night stand. 
You can’t help the laughter that spills from your lips as you settle on top of him. “Are you okay?”
“Glad to see you’re so concerned for my well being.” He chuckles.
“No- Really.” But you can’t stop laughing. “Are you okay?”
“My watch caught it. I’m fine.” 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Joel smiles, cradling your face in his hands. 
You lean down, hands spread over his chest as you press your lips to his. His hands are all over your bare skin again. He shifts your hips, positioning you over him, ready for you to sink down on to him, feel you wrap around him. 
You run your thumb over his bottom lip as his eyes roam over your face, breath held in anticipation, waiting for you.
“Are you sure?” you ask, barely a whisper. 
“Never been more sure.” His hands settle over your hips, holding them softly. 
The air seems to evaporate from the room and the world goes silent before you take that final, fatal move and sink onto him. A soft whimper leaves your lips before Joel captures your lips, swallowing it.
The moonlight reflects off his watch face. Neither of you are aware that it’s stopped, sealing your sins under its glass. 
You lay in Joel's arms long after you’ve both finished, sweaty and bare. The ceiling fan turns above you offering little reprieve. It’s nice, at first, but the longer you lay there, the longer it begins to sink in, the more you start to feel the stickiness on your skin and the unexplainable need for a shower. 
You pull out of Joel's arm’s without a word, eyes searching for your clothes strewn across the room. Why does it feel like the walls are closing in? You need to get out and think. 
“Darlin?” Joel sits up, reaching for your shoulder. 
“I should go home,” you say, rising to your feet before he can touch you. “I need to go home.”
“I told you you can stay.”
“I need to go home!” you snap, tears glistening in your eyes. This is wrong. It’s all wrong. 
“Shit,” Joel’s head drops. He lets out a huff, a hint of sarcasm to it. You grab your shirt, pulling it on, too busy locating your items to pay him any mind. “So that’s it? You’re just going to go back? Nothing’s gonna change.”
Your head snaps up as you pull on your jeans. “This can’t happen.” Your chest shakes. “It shouldn’t have happened, Joel. We both know that.”
“Or maybe it was supposed to.” He slides out of the bed, pulling on his boxers.
“Joel-”
“He doesn’t treat you right. We both know that.”
“He’s my husband!”
“He doesn’t get to walk all over you just because he’s your husband!”
“That doesn’t make this right!”
“It was the most right my life’s felt in years,” Joel says, eyes landing on yours. You bite back tears, trying not to let him get to you as you turn away, but he grabs your wrist. “It always does with you.”
You turn your head away from him without a response.
“You shouldn’t feel guilty.” His thumbs press into your palm. 
You slip his grip. “I love him. I know I shouldn’t anymore, after everything, but I do.” 
“I’ve always been here.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” You want to curse as your emotion wells up again. How much can a person take in a single night? “My life would be so much simpler if it was you.”
“It could be.”
“No,” your head shakes. It hurts more than you expect it too. You do love him. You wish it could be him. As if the past three years weren’t enough, you know what it’s like to be with him now, but it’s still Tommy, and you hate yourself for it. 
Joel seems to read it in your eyes, the sadness, the acceptance, lingering longing for what could have been. His throat bobbles as he steps back to give you space. You release a slow breath. 
“I’m sorry-”
“Don't apologize. I should have known better.”
You cringe. You want to tell him it’s not all on him, but he’s giving you an out. You’re too exhausted not to take it. “I’ll see you this weekend.”
“Yeah.” Joel moves about his room like he’s searching for something. 
You’re not sure if you should say something more, or leave. Leaving would be easier. A clean break, and you take it, but Joel’s voice stops you before you can open the door. “He wasn’t faithful to you.”
Your hand freezes over the door knob, eyes squeezing shut. You can’t do this. You can’t have this conversation right now, but your body is frozen in place. 
“I think you should know.”
Nails bite into your palms as you steady your breath, eyes focused on the wood of the door in front of you as rage begins to grow in you. “He already told me, but thanks for dredging that hurt back up three years after the fact.”
“Darlin-”
You spin on your heels. “Fuck you, Joel!” 
Joel’s eye’s fly wide. “I just thought you should know!”
“No, you were using that for your own good!” You can’t take this. Joel throwing Tommy’s betrayal in your face years after the fact is its own form of treachery.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“I live in a constant state of hurt! You were supposed to be my reprieve!” Your fists shake, voice raising. You don’t care if you wake Sarah, you don’t care if your sins come to light. There’s only so much a person can take in a single night. “If you actually cared about me, you wouldn’t have kept that a secret for years! And you damn sure wouldn’t have used it for your own good!”
Joel doesn’t break eye contact with you, but you see the regret fill his eyes. Fire buzzes in your bloodstream and tears prickle your eyes. You’re not sure how you have any left to shed. In the blink of an eye, you flee from his room and home before he can attempt to draw you back in.
You take the long way home, letting the Texas darkness swallow you whole until you’re ready to go back home. 
The house is dark and quiet. You flip on the lamp, a deep tension forming in your head. Tommy sits on the couch, eyes latching onto yours. He looks like a lost puppy. Your breath catches. You must look a mess- eyes stained red, and clothes wrinkled. You worry you smell like sex or Joel, running over the nights happening for any chance Joel left a mark on you- not that Tommy would notice that. 
“I was getting worried about you.”
You toss your keys on the end table, throwing off your shoes with a sarcastic huff. “That’s ironic.” Tommy cringes. For once, you’re the closed-off one, too emotionally hardened or drained for his antics. 
“I deserve that.”
“Ya think?” You cross your arms. 
“Baby…” He eases to his feet. “I’m sorry- for all of it.”
“Sorry? Sorry! What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Tommy!”
He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It reminds you of Joel. The thought makes your blood run cold. “I don’t know.”
A humorless laugh leaves your throat. “You don’t know?”
“What the fuck can I say? I fucked up. Quite frankly, I don’t know why you’re still here!”
“Because I love you, you fucking idiot!”
“Why!?”
The question catches you off guard. “What the fuck do you mean? ‘Why?’”
“I don’t deserve it.”
“Wow, you’re on a roll tonight.” Your eyes roll. 
“I mean it.”
“Do you want me to leave, Tommy?” Yours and his transgressions filter before your eyes, making you cringe. Two wrongs don’t make a right. “You're done with me and you can’t bring yourself to say it?”
“I’m not good enough for you anymore!” Tears swell in his eyes. “I’ve done nothing but hurt you! But I can’t let you go!”
“I don’t want you to let me go, you big idiot!”
“Why?”
Your eyes flutter shut as you take a deep breath. Joel behind your eyelids. His stability. His care. His love. You could have that, but it would never quench your longing for Tommy. For better or worse, he’s yours. You want him even if it’s bad for you. “I don’t know.”
Tommy enters your space. His arms slip around your waist, eliciting a soft gasp from a place inside you you thought long gone. 
“You still believe in me?” He presses his forehead against yours. The callus on your heart starts to lift away, easier than you want to admit. He’s still in there somewhere, the man you fell in love with. You’re seeing more of him than you have in a long time. His hands feel hot against your back and he tugs you closer. You’re compliant under his touch. Whatever he wants from you, you’ll let him have it if he’ll just stays like this. 
You sniff back the tears, head nodding. “Yeah. I think I always will.”
“Let me make it better. I’m going to do better, Baby.” His breath is hot on your ear, lips pressing right behind it, and then to the corner of your jaw. Your body takes over as you lean into his touch. “I’m going to be here and present for you and Nathaniel.”
“You promise?” If the Tommy you fell in love with comes back to you, you won’t survive losing him again. You feel his hands in places he’s not even touching, heat sprouting all over your body. 
“I promise, Baby.” He kisses your cheek and then your forehead. 
You feel the pull of his current tugging you back under, clouding your judgment. You should send him packing or at least to the guest room until you wash his brother’s scent from your skin, but your body calls for him. Tommy’s touch is your addiction, your late nights running wild, your stint in prison. 
His breath fans over your face and before you know it, you’re pulling his lips to yours. The undertow sweeps you away, tugging you under the surface. Tommy’s never been the safe option, but you never claimed to need safe. 
He tugs you up the stairs. The lock on your bedroom door clicks and he’s on you like a starved man, hands wreaking havoc on your body, pulling clothing from your body like pretty wrapping paper on christmas morning. It doesn’t matter that you were sated well over an hour ago, your body responds to Tommy like a horny teenager. He knows you. He knows how to touch your body just right, he knows exactly how to make you writhe and moan and scream, and he hasn’t forgotten either. He plans to put his memory to good use tonight. 
Your hands are as ravenous as his, tugging his hair, at the buttons of his shirt, and pants. His teeth scrapes your bottom lip before he lays you down on the bed, bared to him and the moon streaming through the curtains. He smiles at you. It’s breathtaking. 
He takes his dear, sweet time with you, pulling you apart piece by piece and gluing you back together. Each time your brain dares to wonder into forbidden territory, he reminds you why he’s your husband, that he still knows you better than anyone else. It erases the rest of the night from your memory and the last two years until it’s just you and him, coming together as one like it was always meant to be. You and him. Bonnie and Clyde. 
He finishes deep inside of you, a feeling you’ve missed. All of it you’ve missed. His skin on yours, sweat mingling together. You lay there staring up at him in awe. He locks eyes with you. He’s there. Your Tommy. The Tommy you see every time you think about him, with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin.
He leans down, lips pressing to your forehead. He wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “I never want to be the cause of these again.”
“Let’s be real, Tommy, you made me cry even when things were good.”
He chuckles, falling beside you. His chest moves with his heavy panting. You think he might be the most handsome man you’ve ever met. “Yeah, suppose I did.” 
“You’re gonna try, for real?”
“I’ll probably fuck up here and there.” He gathers you into his arms, skin pressed to skin as you breathe in the same air. 
“I know you will.” You tease. He scowls, but it’s all in good fun. Another flash of fresh air, a promise that things could go back to normal. 
“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
You laugh, fingers tangling in his black waves. His hair has gotten so long. You wonder if he’ll keep it this way. “It’s gonna take at least that.”
He nods, a hint of seriousness showing in his face. “I know.”
And you know he means it. 
“I think you should go to that group Micky mentioned. You need people who understand.”
Tommy shifts slightly. He doesn’t like the idea. That much is clear. “Baby…”
“This is how you do better, Tommy.” The firmness in your voice catches you off guard. Tommy too. 
He nods, Adam's Apple bobbing. “Okay. I’ll go.”
“Every week?”
“Every week.”
The next morning, you wake up the same way you fell asleep, in your husband’s arms. 
Tommy never says a word, but he smells it on you that night. Something familiar, but out of place. It doesn’t belong on you, but he can’t put his finger on it. He knows what it means. He’s no idiot, and he doesn’t blame you for any of it. He’s had his indiscretions. Lord knows you’re allowed yours. 
You sit on the front porch with your coffee the next morning, the creaking of the porch swing playing in the background of your racing mind. You feel guilty for all of it. What you did to Tommy. What you did to Joel. But more so, you feel guilty because you know you can keep this buried for the rest of your life if it means keeping Tommy, and you’re pretty sure it makes you no better than him. At least Tommy had the balls to own up to what he did, but Joel isn’t some random girl at a bar. He’s your friend. Tommy’s brother. If it had been some random man, you could own up to it, but not this. Not Joel. 
“Aunt Bonnie!” 
The familiar voice pulls you from your thoughts as Sarah waves from the sidewalk, other hand clutched tightly in Joel’s. 
“Hey!” You force a smile to your face, waving back to her as they climb the porch stairs. She rushes over to you, arms open to give you a hug. You return the gesture, crushing her against your frame. “What’s up?”
“We’re just walking. I wanted to come say hi.”
You kiss her cheek. “Well I feel honored. Nathaniel and Uncle Tommy are inside if you want to say hi to them too.”
“Okay,” Sarah returns your kiss, curls bouncing behind her as she darts inside. 
You keep your eyes focused off to the side as Joel’s footsteps draw closer. Your finger plays along the rim of your coffee mug. You feel small, like a child in trouble. Joel eases next to you on the swing, shoulder brushing yours as he does. You bite your lip, knee bouncing softly.
“I’m sorry,” Joel says. “I shouldn’t have let that happen last night.”
Your eyes glaze over. “It’s not all on you.”
“Let it.” Your head snaps toward him. He looks tired, like he didn’t sleep much last night. He clasps his hands together, leaning over his knees. “You weren’t in a good place. I took advantage of that. Let it be my fault.”
Tears glaze over your eyes. He’s giving you an out. 
“Joel…”
He nods at you, a silent assurance. You shouldn’t take it, but you do. You lean into it, and it covers the guilt some, even if it’s all lies. You knew what you were doing. 
He kisses your forehead as the words leave your mouth. “I’m sorry.” 
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Darlin.” More lies to make you feel less guilty. He’ll feed them to you as long as you need him to. 
He stands up, eyes flickering between your door and the way back to his house. 
“I can walk Sarah home later.” 
“Thanks.” He nods before leaving your front porch. He doesn’t look back.  
Things with Tommy don’t magically get better overnight. Life doesn’t work that way. It takes time. It’s gradual, sometimes it feels like you’re moving backward, but slowly Tommy comes back into himself. He’s never the exact man you fell in love with, the one you married, but you’re not the same person either. Time changes things. People grow, but with some work, you find new versions of yourselves that still fit together. Most importantly, this new version is still your Tommy.
Your memories with Joel don’t go away. You keep them tucked deep in your soul, but the two of you find your new rhythm, your friendship too important to lose. 
One Year Later
The five of you gather at Joel’s on Sunday morning for breakfast, rotating houses each week. It’s a carry over from the routine you and Joel developed. It’s different, obviously. You and Nathaniel don’t stay the night. It takes time for Tommy to find his place in the well oiled unit the two of you became. It feels awkward and clunky at times, but you get through it and slowly the kinks work themselves out. 
Joel bounds down the stairs, hair wet from his shower as he joins you and Tommy around the coffee pot. 
“Figured y'all would have breakfast ready by now,” Joel says, squeezing next to Tommy to get to the coffee. 
“Last I checked, we’re guests in your house,” you say, quirking an eyebrow, teasing lilt in your voice. Joel’s eyes roll but a smirk quirks his lips none the less.
Tommy hears a ringing in his ears as the scent of Joel’s body wash filters through his senses, still strong on his brother’s skin. His eyes narrow at your and Joel’s banter. There’s nothing unusual about it. He knows you two are close. It doesn’t bother him, but he knows that scent. His mind pulls it from the fading archives quickly. He smelled it on you that night.  
Tommy sets his mug down, not saying anything as you and Joel go back and forth over breakfast traditions, the two of you falling into predetermined roles in the kitchen. You dance around each other, like a sixth sense, always knowing where the other one is and where they’re going. 
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tommy’s  not sure how he hadn’t caught it before. Maybe his brain wasn’t ready. He’s lived a lot of his recent life in a fog, maybe it had just cleared enough now. 
He doesn’t catch any longing glances or stolen touches. Everything is above board. He knows he has no right to be angry, not after what he's done. He’d pushed you away. Maybe he even pushed you into Joel’s bed that night. Maybe there were nights before, but he hasn’t smelled another man, hasn’t smelled Joel on your skin since. You’ve spent every night next to him, in his arms, body pressed against his. At the end of the day, that’s all he needs. 
He can get past the hurt like you did for him. He can push away the questions. How long did you wait? How often did you find solace in his brother’s bed? He wants to ignore the questions, stomp them down so they don’t fester, don’t ruin what you’ve helped him rebuild. 
“Daddy?” Nathaniel tugs on Tommy’s shirt, pulling him from his thoughts. 
He smiles, pulling his son into his arms with an exaggerated groan. At five and a half, it won’t be much longer before he’s too big to pick up. It hits again, like a sledgehammer to a cinderblock wall, how much of his son’s life he’s missed. Nathaniel laughs, pressing his forehead to Tommy’s. Is there a sweeter sound in this world? 
“What’s up, kiddo?”
“I love you.” He whisper yells.
Tommy chuckles mimicking Nathaniel’s tone. “I love you too.”
Your laugh floats through. Tommy looks up to find you smiling at them, so much love and affection sparkling in your eyes. Something stirs in him, possessiveness, maybe as he strides across the room, shifting Nathaniel to his side so he can pull you flush against him. You melt against him. That’s how he knows, knows you’re still his and he's yours. He won’t ever say a word. He won’t risk losing you again or causing you more grief than he has.
Tommy grins at you, voice lowering to a growl. “And I love you, Momma.” Then he kisses you like he’d reclaiming you. 
Neither of you catches the way Joel turns his back and puts himself out of ear shot. You never catch the way his gaze lingers. He conceals the way his fingers itch to touch you like he used to. 
Nathaniel squeals in disgust, sliding out of his father’s arms. You both share a laugh and then both Tommy’s arms are tightly around your waist, lips pressed to yours again. Your hands rake through his long curls.
As long as you still look at him like that, continue to touch him like that, Tommy doesn’t care that you fucked his brother. Your heart belongs to him. 
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kirain · 3 days
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I saw a comment of yours about Ascended Astarion and I just wanted to say him sacrificing 7000 bloodthirsty vampires that can't control their bloodlust isn't a bad thing. If anything it's a mercy killing. People enjoy Ascended Astarion because it's cathartic for a lot of people who've suffered similar abuse. You lack empathy.
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I think you may have the wrong person, because I've never commented on ascended Astarion. The only time I've come relatively close was when I discussed Neil Newbon's stance on him in the comments of a viral post, where a Tumblr user got mad at him for saying, "Meh. He's not for me." And even then, I made it abundantly clear that I don't have a problem with people who enjoy ascended Astarion. I was more so defending Neil for having a preference, which he's allowed to have. Is that what you're talking about? Because I haven't discussed ascended Astarion anywhere else. 😅
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As for your comment ... what? First of all, an unconsensual sacrifice isn't a mercy killing, it's murder. They didn't want to die. Those innocent people—and yes, they are innocent; Cazador captured and enslaved them—don't simply die. As per the infernal contract, they go to hell. Specifically to Mephistopheles, the second most powerful and cruel archdevil in the hells. They will suffer for all eternity. That's not merciful. Personally, I'd rather be an undead spawn who has to drink rat blood every now and then.
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Second, if you feel that way about all those spawn, then you should keep the same energy for Astarion, because he's the same as them. The only difference is they haven't had a chance to live in the real world or learn to control their hunger. Now, I do agree setting thousands of spawn loose on the Sword Coast is a lot, and potentially dangerous for the living, but the Gur will keep an eye on them, as is their oath. If you let them go, you give them a choice. They're still slaves to their hunger, and they likely always will be, but they get to choose how to satisfy it. If they truly can't resist harming others, then the Gur (and paladins) will surely kill them; which sounds horrible, but at least they'll be spared a gruesome afterlife.
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Cazador took their choice away, as he did with Astarion. If they deserve to die, if they don't deserve a chance to prove they can live peacefully in Faerûn, then the same goes for Astarion. That's part of what makes his ascension so hypocritical. He's no better than Cazador, in the sense that he takes their agency away and uses them for the exact same purpose. Those spawn even could've been Astarion. He just so happened to be the "lucky" one who had a parasite crawl into his head. He's special to the player because we know him, but he could've been any of his siblings. He is all 7,006 of those spawn.
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I will admit I didn't ascend Astarion, as I personally think it's the worst path for him, but you have it backwards. I didn't deny him ascension because I lack empathy. I denied him ascension because all I have is empathy, and that extends to characters who aren't the main focus of the game. You do what makes you happy, but I don't think becoming the worst version of yourself is healing, and I care about Astarion (and the people around him) too much to watch him continue the cycle. Sebastian, Dalyria, Chessa, all the others trapped in the cages—they have names and they're victims, too. For me, the most cathartic moment of Astarion's quest was when he realised it and set them free.
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