#not just his lines in this but the extra phrases that echo some of the lines keep this cover so interesting and fun to listen to
Note
hey idk if ur requests are open but i might as well try lol. is there any way you could make a stucky fic about if reader had a bad argument with her mother on the phone and reader breaks down and cries. maybe reader is home alone when it happens and the boys are at work, so when the boys come home they find her crying in their bedroom. (maybe the reader gets extreme lows quickly and the boys know that she has a history of hurting herself in these situations so they take extra good care of her). but they comfort her, tell her why she doesnt deserve how her mom treats her, tell her how much they love her. just angst w her mom in the begining and the rest is fluff. lol sorry im rly fucked up.
MATILDA- STUCKY
Pairing: CEO! Stucky x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: TW TW!!! self harm mentioned, yelling, crying, reader going through some very hard feelings, but other then that angst... fluff<3
Notes: hi. this fic is very personal to me. very personal. i have felt like this many times, and some things that have been said to reader have been said to me. so to whoever sent this, you are not fucked up. we are human, and we are hurting. we are coping and we are trying. and to whoever else feels remotely like this, know i understand. and im trying too. bucky and steve are here for you, and so am i.
Her voice still echoed in your head, the raging, strident sound bouncing off the corners of your brain like a pinball machine.
It hurt.
The endless, bottomless pit of hatred she threw you in, drowning you.
It hurt, badly.
You loved your mother, you truly did. She had raised you, read your bedtime stories in your rocking chair, and held your hand across the street.
But she was emotionally absent. She didn't realise that her words hurt. They hurt- a substantial amount.
The phone was limp in your hand, the line dead as she had ended the call a few minutes prior, screaming at you. You didn't even know about what anymore.
You tried to zone it out. But some of her phrases, they stuck out.
You're a disgrace to have as a daughter. Your father would be so disappointed with you. If you go down that hole again, I’m not helping you again Y/N. I’m done. I’m sick and tired of your shit.
You felt the salty tears begin to fall down your cheeks as you slumped against the pillows, placing the phone back on its stand. Hands seemed to wrap around your throat as the air was stolen from your lungs, sobs racking through your entire body.
Your phone was thrown across the sheets somewhere, now buzzing with texts from Steve and Bucky. You told them you’d let them know how things went with your mother.
They knew in advance it would not go well. They always did.
Some time had passed, and you knew their frantic texts were because they worried about you. You couldn't find the strength to answer, instead- curling into a ball, letting the tears smear your mascara down your heated cheeks.
Fuck you mom. Fuck. You.
You weren't sure how much time went by as you cried into your pillow, clinging to the blankets like it was your lifeline.
It was, in a way.
Bucky and Steve weren't here, so the crocheted blanket they had made for you was the only form of comfort you had.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You kept silent.
“Doll?” the gentle voice called from behind the door, now partly creaked open as Bucky poked his head in. You sniffled, looking over at his gentle stare from the door, watching as he allowed himself in, Steve following in.
“We brought cinnamon buns from the bakery on the corner. The one we normally go to on Fridays?”
You nodded, watching as Steve set the baked goods on your dresser, him and Bucky slowly making their way over to you, as if you were a frightened animal. They knew how vulnerable you were in this stage, and they didn't want to scare you to make it worse.
You shuffled up, sitting crossed-legged as they crouched down beside the bed, their work uniforms still on. Their ties were out of place, top buttons undone, hair slightly messy.
They must have rushed here from the office, you realised, the guilt dawning on you all at once.
“Are you okay?” Bucky whispered, hand coming up to cup your jaw, rubbing little soothing circles to help ease your tears.
“She was cruel again.” you croaked out, watching as Steve gently twisted your arm towards him. Your scars shown faintly in the dim light, their faded marks scattered across your wrist. No new marks lay in their place.
You couldn't help but notice Steve's little sigh of relief, kissing your wrist tenderly. “I’m so sorry for worrying you guys. I just- I couldn't-” you broke out in tears, the full circle coming round.
Bucky and Steve knew about your past, you had told them of your old coping mechanisms.
Unhealthy mechanisms.
They had helped coaxed you out of your self-harming ways, with love and patience. Something you had needed, for a long, long time. It had been some time now since you had last done anything to yourself, but of course Steve and Bucky wouldn't have known that.
You had ghosted them, and left them high and dry. They knew talks with your mother could trigger some episodes, and you couldn't imagine how worried they must have been.
They wrapped their arms around you, and you leaned into their embrace, the comfort you had craved. “Shh, shh doll it's okay. It's okay, deep breaths okay?” Bucky cooed softly, instructing you to take a breath with him.
You followed suit, feeling the air rush through your lungs, soothing you like a drop of cool water in a desert as you allowed your heart rate to slow.
“We were just worried princess, that's all. We just didn't want to see our precious doll hurting.” Steve explained, kissing your tears away.
“You’re not mad?” you hiccuped, worried they'd feel coming to see you was a burden.
No Y/N. You’re not a burden, or else they wouldn't have come. You quickly reminded yourself, attempting to train your brain out of thinking negatively.
That was your mother's job. Not yours.
The boys could see the gears in your brain turning, giving you a small smile of encouragement. “Of course we’re not mad. We love you more than anything doll.” Bucky cooed, brushing the last tear you shed with his thumb.
“It's our job to comfort you, princess. Just like how it's our job to protect you.” The words he had once told you many months ago played in your mind, like a broken record. A good broken record, one you never wanted to stop playing.
It's our job to protect you, even if that danger is yourself right now princess. It's okay. We’ll get there eventually, together. One small step at a time.
“I just don't want you guys to feel like you need to come every time after my mom calls. I don't want you to miss anything important.”
“We want to come.” Steve reminded you gently, soft blue eyes yearning with love and compassion. “We always want to be with you doll. Even when you're having a harder time. You'd come to us if we were feeling down, wouldn't you?”
You nodded quickly, no hesitation in your mind whatsoever. You'd come to them at beck and call. You'd travel through volcanos, swim oceans to get to them, if that's what they needed.
“So it works the same with us honey. You need us, we come. Even if you don't call us, we come. And if you don't want us here- we leave and give you space, whatever you need. Simple as that. Whatever you want.” Bucky reminded you, knowing it was sometimes hard for you to accept love from others.
That it was hard to remember you deserved worth, the same as they did.
The same as anyone did.
You nodded, smiling softly as Steve grabbed another blanket from the bed, draping it across your shoulders. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You gnawed on your lip, thinking. Thinking about what you wanted, what you needed.
“No. I don't think I do.” you decided, wanting to forget it ever happened.
“And that's perfectly okay. But please know you do not deserve how that woman treats you. Whatever she said to you, whatever names she called you, it's a fucking lie.” Bucky reassured you, kissing your hand tenderly.
“We’re proud of you princess. We’re so proud of how far you've come, and that you stayed strong today after that nightmare. It's over now, you're safe.” Steve whispered, his hand stroking your hair soothingly as he sat beside you on the bed.
“I love you guys. Thank you.” you whispered, feeling a million times better than you did a few minutes prior, their calming words and aura soothing the sadness lodged deep in your soul. Bucky answered this with a kiss, his lips soft against yours, tasting of sugar as he told you all the things he needed to with his lips.
You're welcome. I love you doll. More than anything, I love you.
“Do you wanna do anything princess?” Steve asked, watching as your cat, Alpine trotted in your room, meowing. You smiled as she trotted up to Bucky, rubbing her body against his leg, purring as he leaned down to scratch her head.
Bucky was Alpines favourite, and she made this very, very obvious.
“Can we watch movies and eat cinnamon buns?”
“Warmed up for forty-five seconds, and a spoon on the side?” Bucky asked, already making his way over to where the sticky buns lay. You laughed, reaching down to pet the white ball of fur now curled around your feet, begging for attention.
He remembered. Of course he remembered.
“Yes, but-” you looked over to the clock that sat on your bedside table, its red digits glowing 10:13.
“Don't you guys have work? I thought you two had a meeting and had to stay later.”
They just laughed, the sound making butterflies flutter in your tummy, your heart tripling three sizes.
“Don't you remember? We own the place angel.”
#stucky x reader#stucky x you#stucky x oc#stucky x y/n#stucky x female!reader#stucky x f!reader#stucky fanfiction#stucky fluff#stucky fic#stucky smut#stucky angst#stucky and reader smut#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x smut#bucky barnes x female oc#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky fic#bucky imagine#james barnes x y/n#james barnes fluff#james barnes x reader#james barnes#james buchanan barnes
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rocky aur rani thoughts
it wasn't at all what i expected actually? like I'm not sure what I expected but it wasn't that
rani chatterjee let me raid your wardrobe
they really just promoted tum kya mile and jhumka because there were like no other really memorable songs--
I sound a bit mean but I had a blast, I laughed a lot, did tear up at least once, and didn't want to pull up 2048 at any time during the film
(spoilers under the cut)
the film had some real 2011 style feminism moments mixed in with more genuine things? the interview at the start made me want to die but there were some almost - ALMOST - coherent points in there
bollywood is not the place to make statements about fat shaming etc etc but there was almost smth valid in seeing any jokes about what whatshername ate clearly coming from ...people were not supposed to like?
rocky and rani were actually quite sweet, despite the ...extraness
i think the film kind of rolled over this as rocky was supposed to be wealthy, but there's a great deal of elitism in the sort of attitude Rani and her family have towards Rocky. It makes me wonder what this film would be if he didn't ... colour coordinate his cars to his clothes and live in a replica whitehouse. like on one hand it's arguably his wealth that makes him able to be the way he is, but on the other hand, the traditional/modern divide that they were showing is typically also a class divide. there's no reason for rockys english to not be good as he is now - and nothing apart from personal taste and "traditionalism" for them to critique, even though rocky isn't actually that traditional in comparison to his family, and even if he was, they - esp at the start - didn't know that
on the other hand I don't know a lot of Bengali people or a lot of Punjabi people so it may just be like a culture shock thing they're going for. idk. i understand it, i just think it's a little bit of a miss for a genuine criticism on their laughing at him
the grandparents element was funny lmao. like what's going on THERE. but it was almost kind of sweet, too, the way they just ...liked spending time together I guess
keh diya na... bas keh diya
^ half the cinema actually echoed this line with her. icons only
the film did pretty often pit men against men and women against women. this worked! when alia or her mom were yelling at men... this worked a little bit less? idk. i think sometimes it ends up feeling a bit mouthpiecey, and some of it was weirdly phrased and ...strongly delivered, to say the least. i understand that they're both from an environment in which they feel safe voicing their opinion, but I was nonetheless going - would someone actually say that? so openly? so maybe that's on me
everything about the alias dad storyline was just chefs kiss
i do think rockys relationship w his mom and sister needed a bit of work for the big fight scene to work. it sounds weird to say since so much of the film was abt the randhawas but ranveers mom's dynamics w everyone were a bit underdone
the guy playing young granddad was so hot. hotter than the real actor actually was back then tbh
all I could think during the ranveer dance routine was how much time did it take him to learn that dbdndndjdjf but that was excellent
idk. i think in some senses the scale of the movie interfered with its effectiveness, but I don't want it to be any smaller in the ayushmann khurana sense, if that...makes sense? idk. it did feel very kjo production, and I like that about it
tum kya mileeeee,,,, tum kya mileeeee,,,, hum na rahe hummmmm,,,, tum kya mileeeeee
ranis "i am speaking" was hot though the whole of that non-confrontation made me want to yell, though maybe because it was happening in public
SPEAKING OF when she crashes her car into his in the middle of a four lane road and then they just fucking stand there and talk and kiss for 10 minutes and all the other cars just go around....lmaoooooooo
still think the more obvious solution was for them both to move out of their family homes but ok
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lost in translation (ch 11, part 1) + some misc observations
a (non-exhaustive) list of differences i noted down for the translation of chapter 11 (part 1) while watching the chn and eng versions side-by-side. previously i did the same thing for chapter 9 and chapter 10. this also includes random comments and observations i had during this chapter.
disclaimer: i am not fluent in chinese, so keep in mind that there will be mistakes. feel free to let me know if you have questions, concerns, or comments. any alternate translations are my own, and are often especially literal (to show the difference between eng/chn).
Overall: Still nothing I’d consider egregious (ruinous to plot or character). Some omission of noncritical phrases in Chinese, like before. One thing I noticed more of is that the phrasing in English sometimes makes a line ambiguous or confusing, while the intention of the sentence in Chinese was much clearer. I have a few examples of these below; usually you can understand it using context clues, but I’m curious to know if other people noticed the issues when just reading in English. There were also some word choices that just felt a little… awkward? (It’s not here, but a few times when the word “grunt” was used…)
11-01
This may be a reference to Jerome's "preoccupation" with his age, like when he wanted to be called an older brother rather than an uncle (see my prev chapter translation comparisons). However, on second thought, this entire thing of his may be another nod to the idea of the pursuit of eternal youth and longevity? But honestly this is just a thought that crossed my mind, I don't really think that's the intention of the writers.
Based on the Chinese, it seems like Reina is older and Matthew is the younger brother.
The English could be interpreted as a hypothetical question, while the Chinese has Matthew directly saying that Vyn is unwanted. (Upon rereading, this is very minor and I would have left this entry out, but I already had the screenshot so I'll just put it here anyway.)
The Underling refers to Matthew using the suffix for people like presidents of companies (as he is a businessman). (Nothing wrong with the translation here, just again pointing out extra info that can be gleaned from the Chinese text.)
11-02
Marius refers to Matthew also with the same suffix.
This section also contains some references to Marius's previous stories:
Vyn was threatened with being locked dark space, which echoes one of Marius's childhood experiences (mentioned in his "In the Darkness" SSR and his blossom personal story, chapter 4)
Marius still can't hold his liquor, which we first saw in "Fabulous Feast" SSR
Ideally, this fear can extend into another thing --
"Of your own accord" gives the feeling of doing something of your own initiative, and voluntarily. The word used in the original text also implies that the thing was done secretly and/or without permission.
11-06
That last sentence felt like a mild warning, in which I could hear several inexplicably complicated emotions.
So the "complicated emotions" are on Vyn's side, not on Rosa's.
11-08
Rosa paints a very specific simile here but I'm honestly not quite sure what it's supposed to imply or if it's referencing something so I'm just going to put this here for reference. The literal translation says it's as if Marius "has hung a ring of keys at his waist and then forcibly drank 5 kg of puer tea".
11-09
[...] Even from the other end of the call, you can feel the embarrassment quietly spreading.
Not necessarily wrong, but the English sentence could almost be interpreted as the embarrassment is spreading throughout the phone, which doesn’t make sense and could cause a moment of confusion.
11-11
Dr. Richter, you haven’t chosen to believe anyone either, have you?
Note that in Chinese it’s not specified that Rosa is referring to “them” (the suspects in the case). It could usually be interpreted that way from context, but using “anyone” preserves ambiguity in Vyn’s response (i.e. it’s possible that Rosa or NXX are included in those that Vyn says he doesn’t trust).
(Sidenote: The beginning of the chapter emphasized the role of surveillance on NXX’s current actions. Therefore, Vyn might not trust anyone, or he might simply be saying what he wants other people to believe. It’s interesting to note that Marius, on the other hand, openly told Vincent in 11-08 that Rosa is the only one he trusts. Which, again, is likely influenced by the possibility of surveillance.)
11-13
After all, there is no way to detect psychological damage. Sometimes the parties involved are themselves not even aware of it.
11-15
By the time your mind has caught up with the situation, you had already placed yourself in his way without a moment’s hesitation.
I probably made more changes than necessary or literal, but it was to convey the feeling more. Then again, this may be one of those lines that seem fine to other people and I'm just stuck on my own knee-jerk impression of the English translation.
I think the English tries to convey "不暇思索地" with the phrase "you find yourself". However, this combined with the opening clause gave the impression that Rosa got caught up in the flurry of confusion, then just happened to find herself standing between Vyn and Darius. In Chinese, "不暇思索地" means something like “without thinking, without hesitation, without a second thought”. It adds a sense of instinctive protectiveness to Rosa’s action, which comes across in later lines of the English translation but I felt was lost in this line. This line was one of the most character-relevant issues I noticed in this chapter.
He looks over at you with rather undisguised astonishment.
11-16
Afterwards, he leaves them with a half-true threat.
Adds a little more playfulness to how he's threatening them with a lawsuit from Rosa.
If she were truly just a perpetrator, they [people online] would have pixelated the photos to prevent anyone from coming after her.
Subject issue, since it wasn’t explicitly stated in the sentence and it’s implied from the previous line.
11-20
Yeah, but I don’t want to answer that directly to your face just yet.
Probably nitpicky and most likely doesn't matter, but I’m going to point out the details since this seems like a foreshadow-y line.
Then he releases his foot and smiles seemingly gently at the young man.
Most of the time the “seemingly” can be (and is) left out in translation, but I think it’s better to keep it here since Vyn probably isn’t actually being gentle.
11-21
Look man, we didn’t do anything. We’re not gonna go asking for trouble.
Contributes to the idea that Luke’s best course of action is just not getting involved this whole incident and continuing with his work.
…No, even names that haven’t been carefully considered can bear meaning.
Thoughtful = “having a lot of thought put into it” would be fine here, but I feel that the more colloquial interpretation of thoughtful (“kind, compassionate”) would be strange since giving Albie a name is itself said to be a kind action. In Chinese, the word used specifically means carefully considering, deliberating, etc.
...you never directed your thoughts toward that direction.
Actually, I don’t think this would be considered an error in translation. I think the metaphorical phrasing is just almost opposite between eng and chn so it stood out to me. In chn it's more like thinking further in that direction; in eng, it’s more like finding a new position to position yourself, then view the situation and do your thinking from that angle.
I also have an analysis post about Albie's name which also involves comparison across eng/chn! Anyway, thanks for reading this far and feel free to let me know your thoughts ^^
#tears of themis#vyn richter#marius von hagen#tot vyn#tot marius#mo yi#lu jinghe#tears of themis analysis#tot translation#thoughts of themis#hmm i was gonna consider scheduling for the morning but fuck it. i'm posting
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Talking about echolalia and scripting and the difference.
Echolalia is when an autistic individual repeats, or echoes, words, sounds, or phrases that they have heard.
Echolalia is often considered to be used more by those who are nonverbal, but all people can do it. Nonverbal is a term used by medical community to express that the person is unable to use language in a conventional "functional" way.
Echoing can be immediately after hearing something or delayed. Delayed is when the echo occurs later and sometimes in different situations. The delay could be hours, days, or even years later.
"Be careful so you don't fall!"
"careful, be careful, don't fall, be careful."
"Yup be careful."
"You did it!"
"Great job you're awesome!"
"Yes you are awesome!"
Echolalia is actually a normal part of early childhood development and expected of children during early language development.
However, in some autistic individuals they still use echo phrases past this developmental point.
As communication develops, either through verbal language, sign, pecs, or AAC than echolalia diminishes.
A lot of people falsely believe that it serves no purpose and no communicative meaning at all.
Echolalia isn't meaningless.
There are multiple reasons for echolalia.
-To declare that they heard the speaker
-to give extra processing time to understand and compose a response
-to request something
-to respond to a request or question
-to rehearse a situation
-to remember something
-to process and follow commands
-to provide conversation back and forth
-to give information
-to label and show recognition
-to protest or express joy
-to self regulate.
Scripting is the knowing repetition of words, phrases, or sounds from other people's speech. Such as an autistic individual reciting lines from movies, commercials, books, etc.
Scripting is language in the social sense as it has a purpose: to share meaning, to socialize, and to express feelings, communicate experiences, rehearse situations, and stim.
Scripting is seen as abnormal because the individuals are verbal, but the way we use our verbal language is not considered conventional.
Scripting for rehearsing is essentially practicing what we would say before we say it. Like when making a phone call, placing an order, or communicating with someone.
Scripting in social situations is a very common scenerio for all people, not just autistic individuals.
These society scripts are confusing to autistic individuals because we don't understand why the small talk or these questions are asked with no desire to an actual response. But following learning them, it's confusing when someone does not follow the script.
"Hi how are you?"
"Hello. I'm good thanks and you?"
"I'm good thank you"
This is an example of a social script. The first person doesn't actually want to know how you are and the second person responds with good even if they are in fact not doing well. They also know it's the social norm to ask that question in return.
When people follow the script most of society follows, it makes it easier for autistic individuals to handle social situations.
"Hi how are you?"
"Oh man today has been so busy."
In this situation the autistic individual either caused awkwardness to the first person by actually responding or the other person has caused confusion and anxiety to the autistic person by not following the social script and they initially may not not know to respond.
So to summarize, echolalia and scripting both serve a purpose!
"Actually I have heard those things, about a thousand times, but never have they been told to me with so much sass. Drop the attitude. You are acting like Garfield on a Monday."
"All right, well I'm not surprised. C'mon, let's go watch Wizards of Waverly Place!" ❤️
#autism acceptence month#autism#autism acceptance#asd#autistic pride#autistic#autistic adult#actually audhd#audhd
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Devin's Dude Ranch: Episode Four
*the episode opens with a shot of Echo Valley Ranch. the sun sits low in the graying sky and the trees cast their long shadows across the ground.*
Devin, in diary room: "Tonight is our first group date and I'm so excited to get to spend more quality to time with the guys! I mean, I've missed them! Is that weird?" *lets out an unintentional snort laugh* "I know I just saw them all yesterday for the nectar making contest, but it's not like we actually got a chance to talk or bond or anything. So, yeah. I'm looking forward to tonight."
*next shot shows the contestants lined up in front of Devin. They are standing in the backyard of the house.*
Devin: "Hi guys! I hope you're all excited as I am about tonight because it's our first group date!"
*the contestants whoop in reply which makes Devin grin and blush slightly*
Devin (continues): "I know it's a little chilly out, but I have just the thing to keep us warm..."
Devin: "A weenie roast!"
*enthusiastic murmuring spreads among the contestants*
Devin: "Alright, why don't we head over to the fire pit and get comfortable?"
*everyone chooses a seat around an already roaring fire and looks to Devin expectantly. there's a beat of uncomfortable silence that follows.*
Devin: "So...you'll all have to forgive me if I'm a bit awkward. This is my first time going on a date with five dudes at the same time."
*chuckles ripple throughout the group*
Devin (continues): "There are dinner kits next to everyone's chairs if you're hungry. Otherwise, I thought we could just talk. Get to know each other better. To get things going I thought we could go around and all share something fun about ourselves. How about what's the silliest thing you've ever searched on the internet?"
*the group laughs again*
Stan: "Only if you go first, missy."
*more laughter, with Devin joining in*
Devin: "Alright, fair enough."
*she pauses a moment to consider her answer while the group looks on*
Devin: *chokes on a laugh* "Oh my Watcher. I can't believe I'm about to admit this to you guys. Okay. So, my cousin, Lacey, got me an AirTag because, and you should all know this about me, I am infamous for losing my keys. Well, needless to say, I lost 'em. But for the life of me, I couldn't remember exactly how she said the AirTag worked, so I pulled out my phone and searched," *pauses, covers her mouth with her hand, and squeezes her eyes shut* "Find my keys."
*the group howls with laughter*
Devin: "I know! I know! It was so dumb! But cut me some slack, okay? I'm not the most technically savvy!"
*as the laughter subsides, she turns to Houston*
Devin: "Your turn, cowboy."
Houston: "Hmmm....," *settles back in his seat and thinks for a few beats*
Houston (continues): "Alright. This one seems silly now, in hindsight. But, it was really late at night and I hadn't had much sleep and I had been writing for almost ten hours straight. But, I searched," *pauses briefly and smiles to himself*, "Does grammatical phrasing and ending dictate the relationship between syntax and the poetic line?"
*the group is so quiet the only sound are the crickets singing in the background*
Milo: "I don't get it."
*Devin looks slightly confused*
Houston: "Well, you see..."
Stan: "Don't even try, man. We're all too dumb to understand."
*the group breaks out into laughter again*
Handra: "I'll go next."
Devin: "Awesome. Let's hear it!"
Handra: "I'm kinda ashamed to admit, but this is something I have searched for on more than one occasion," *surprised hissing emanates from the people around him* "Yeah, I know. But, I can never remember which one is the damn salad fork."
*Handra laughs nervously*
Albert: "Wait, didn't you also work in a restaurant?"
*Handra's head droops*
Handra: "Yes."
Devin: "Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about that around here. My philosophy is one fork for everything."
Houston: "Who has time for all those extra dishes, am I right?"
*Devin glances over and grins at Houston*
Devin: "Nail. Head."
*the two share a moment of eye contact before Stan clears his throat*
Stan: "Well, mine was an almost search. I started to type it in and thought it was too stupid and stopped myself."
Albert: "Oh, I gotta hear this."
*Devin looks to Albert*
Devin: "*Bleep*, me too."
*Stan grins and chuckles to himself*
Stan: "As I'm sure y'all have figured out by now, I'm very fond of my coffee. Well, one day I almost searched caffeine overdose. Isn't that ridiculous? Can you imagine?"
*Devin glances around the group with a worried expression*
Devin: "Umm...Stan. Caffeine overdose is a real thing. I mean, it's not super common, but it even kills people."
*Stan's face falls*
Stan: "What?"
*His eyes search the faces of the other contestants who are nodding to him in confirmation*
Stan: "Well, *bleep*."
*Houston reaches over and pats Stan on his shoulder*
Houston: "Sorry, buddy."
Milo: "I guess I'll go, " *he sighs and leans forward, resting his arm on his leg*, "I don't have the best memory. Probably because I've been hit in the head too many times. But, to make a long story short, I couldn't member my Mom's phone number so i had to search it after I got a new phone," *buries his face in his hand and laughs* "Which is really, really sad."
*the group laughs meekly, almost as if unsure if they should or just feel sorry for him*
Devin: "Awww! I'm not going to lie. I've been there. I mean, not with family. but with someone else I probably should have known their number."
Milo: "Thanks, Devin. At least I know I'm not alone."
*Devin winks across the fire at Milo*
Devin: "You're up, Albert."
Albert: "Can you milk cowplants?"
*the group sits in stunned silence for a moment, processing what Albert just said*
Albert (continues): "That was my search. And I already know what you ranchers are going to say," *holds up his hand to use a puppet and takes his voice up an octave* "Of course cowplants don't product milk, Albert. They're not actually cows. They're aliens," *his voice shifts back to normal* "Thank you, everyone. I found that out when I searched."
*Albert laughs and plants his face in the palm of his hand*
*the group bursts out into laughter, everyone except Stan*
*Stan has Albert locked in a steely stare, the hot dog he's been roasting now turning black in the open flame*
*indistinct conversation and laughter can be heard as a low buzz begins to fade in*
*conversations fade out as the buzz grows louder*
*Stan's glare begins shifting to each of the men around the fire*
Stan, in diary room: "I don't know what happened. I was just sitting there, and suddenly a wave of...intense jealousy came over me. Getting Devin's attention in this pack of wolves feels *bleep*ing impossible. This is going to be so much harder than I thought."
*the camera cuts back to the campfire. everyone is locked in their own conversations.*
Houston: "You know, I'm not exactly a fan of technology, either."
Devin: "Oh yeah?"
*Houston nods solemnly*
Houston: "Since the war."
*Devin's face softens*
Devin: "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."
Houston: "No. It's okay. I want you to know."
*she nods and leans closer*
Houston: "It's just, that I've seen what we've made technology into. What it's capable of. The horrors it can inflict. I guess, it's made me not trust it."
Devin: "I don't think anyone can fault you for that. Least of all me."
*the two lock eyes and share a moment of comfortable silence*
*after an obvious time lapse, the next shot is focused on Devin*
Devin: "Guys, this has been a lot fun but unfortunately, it's time to call it a night. I hope you had as much fun as I did."
*everyone gets to their feet, hug Devin, and begin making their way into the house*
*Devin begins to head inside when Houston hurries behind her*
Houston: "Devin! Wait!"
*Devin glances over her shoulder before stopping in her tracks and turning to wait for Houston to catch up*
Houston: "This is probably against the rules or whatever, but I don't care."
*he reaches out, takes her hand, and pulls her gently against him.*
*Devin smiles in surprise*
Houston (continues): "I've been dying to do this and I couldn't wait any longer."
*Houston wraps his arm around Devin's waist and as she drapes hers across his shoulder. their faces are inches apart*
Devin: "So do it, already."
*she now cradles his face, her eyes burning into his*
*Houston smiles down at her*
*after a beat Houston leans forward, eagerly kissing Devin for the first time.*
*she meets his lips with a soft moan*
*Houston gently tightens his grip on her*
Houston, in diary room: "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. But, suffice to say, this is one of my most magical nights of my life."
Devin, in diary room: "He kissed me. He *bleep*ing kissed me." *swoons*
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Houston submitted by @invisiblequeen
James "Stan" submitted by @natolesims
Albert submitted by @bakersimmer
Milo submitted by @belsasim
Handra submitted by @bloomingkyras
#devinsduderanch#devin delaney#houston bloom#handra diaz#albert robins#james stanford#milo penn#sims 4 bachelorette#sims 4 bachelorette challenge#echo valley ranch#chestnut ridge#sims 4 horse ranch#simblr#the sims 4#sims community#ts4#sims 4 love story#sims 4 story#sims 4 screenshots
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incomplete list of things that destroyed me today:
maxim's raistlin. his mage is a ball of bitterness and determination which only heightens the sense of tragedy — for this raistlin there's no other ending but "the lord of nothing". i also feel like this raistlin is played like a smartest raistlin because he gets so, so frustrated every time he has to explain something. in "by takhisis, i'm surrounded by idiots" kind of way.
irina's crysania. she's the softest. most naive priestess i've seen, and it was so heartbreaking to watch her completely shatter in istar scenes.
(and the most forceful raistlin and most gentle crysania were fascinating together)
DALAMAR. he was amazing? wonderful? extra charismatic?? 1000/10 the dark elf we love? i also loved how much of a performer he was today. this dalamar enjoyed every minute of playing conclave like a fiddle. and the way his demeanor changed completely every time he shared a scene with raistlin? delicious.
caramon broke my heart. the end.
no, not the end. THE SCENES. so many wonderful interactions.
literally one of the first phrases was "shalafi?", and during the meeting in the temple dalamar and crysania simultaneously reached for raistlin while he was coughing on the floor....
then the tavern, and bonus tika and dalamar interaction?? priceless, i love it. they were very snarky.
also, caramon kneeling before his magnificent wife? as he should.
raistlin treated crysania like she was made of glass during "the prosecutor", and i really liked it! or maybe i'm used to other mages just dragging their priestesses in less gentle manner.
"the temptation by compassion" hit really hard BECAUSE this crysania was the softest. someone hug her, please?
THE ARENA. caramon's "what the hell are you?" after the minotaur had appeared was priceless. and raistlin was anxiously fiddling with his fingers, see, he loves caramon, and gets angry with himself for that, and takes that out on his brother. get this mage some therapy.
the group hug during the fall of istar was hearwarming and painful at the same time. we can't have nice things, right, raistlin?
also, ALSO. maxim and ksenia (as takhisis) sounded eerily similar when they were sarcastic. "isn't that just the echo of her words", hmmm?
then the childhood of the mage which was fantastic because raistlin was ANGRY.
"sedution" was so soft. and i've counted three raistlin and crysania kisses in the show!
"the lullaby" shattered my heart. it's interesting choice to have caramon sing it to raistlin's mantle because the brother he grew up with isn't here anymore. it's over.
(crysania sang her oath to raistlin's mantle too which is fascinating? she binds herself to the idea of raistlin that's in her head, not the real man.)
THE TRIAL BY FIRE WAS THE BEST SCENE. so many amazing little moments. raistlin, who started singing it very professionallyTM, turning to crysania the moment she laid her hand on his cheek and just going with it?? wow. AND THE KISS.
etherius's abyss is the most terrifying version of it, fight me.
(and maxim looked very small there, GIVE THE MAGE A HUG)
"the denial" was heartbreaking and inevitable. the only possible conclusion for this raistlin. the vocals on "the price is not too high!" though? you had to hear it.
and the final eight lines of "the lord of nothing" (after raistlin dropped on his knees) looked visually stunning from the audience perspective.
in conclusion, i'm so very not normal about them.
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Here For You
A bit of not-really-nonsense that managed to overtake another story idea that inspired it (I’ll write that one soon). I may have spent too long with @itsstrangelypermanent‘s fics (if that’s possible)...
Warning for implied/referenced suicide, by the way.
---
“Is this seat taken?” Helli nearly jumped out of her skin as Master Kenobi addressed her, then berated herself internally for her lack of awareness. Yes, this was the Temple refectory and territory didn’t get much friendlier than that, but still… She shook her head, her mouth full of lunch, as she worked out why he’d chosen that particular table in the half-empty room. Given the events of a few days previously, that didn’t take long.
Her deduction was proved correct when he asked, too quietly for anyone else to hear, “How are you doing?” She knew to what he referred. The loss of one of her tight-knit strike team, who had been re-seconded to Master Kenobi and his former padawan Anakin Skywalker for a high-risk, high-casualty rescue mission to the notorious Citadel and never returned.
“Surviving,” she admitted. Kenobi, she was sure, was all too well aware of all the things she wasn’t prepared to say. Echo’s absence was still a dagger lodged in her heart, sending another bolt of pain through her at the slightest provocation. The smallest, most random things – the battered dejarik table in the 501st’s rec room; the sabacc game where she’d absent-mindedly dealt an extra hand; the stock of flimsi over which they’d had a long-running friendly feud; every bad joke he didn’t immediately try to outdo – could still bring tears to her eyes. She knew it would get better, though. This wasn’t the first loss she’d suffered. Yes, it might have been easier if she’d had some warning, as she had before, but it was what it was. And it would be the height of arrogance to demand that the Force conform to her expectations.
“And how’s Fives taking it?”
“Not well.” She couldn’t lie to Master Kenobi, or muster the brain cells required to bend the truth. Fives was Echo’s twin and now the last of their batch, and he’d also been on the Citadel mission. However much her brother’s death was hurting Helli, Fives was at least an order of magnitude worse off. “But he’ll live. We all will.” Fives, compassionate and affectionate though he might be, was also tough. Nobody would be listing him as died of wounds any time soon, if he or Helli had any say in the matter.
Died of wounds. The phrase didn’t just refer to physical injuries. Sometimes, it was the medics’ way of ensuring that their brothers who found it impossible to live without a twin, a batcher, or a close friend, or just had seen too much and suffered too much, were given the posthumous honour they deserved. Such incidents were far less common than they used to be (not that they had ever been exactly routine), Helli knew, though she’d only been sent to the front lines several months after the beginning of the war. Safety measures had been put in place very quickly, and unofficial support networks set up, often starting with the medics – the ones who saw all the worst injuries, waited with dying vode for the end, signed the death certificates for those who slipped through the cracks – and spiralling out to cover the whole army and every kind of issue. The clones always had each other’s backs, in or out of combat.
So did the Jedi, who did the best they could for the men in their care – which was generally plenty. Nothing was ever made official, lest the Kaminoans realise the scale of the “problem” and try to condition it out – never mind that it was partly their fault that the clones clung quite so fiercely to one another, having so little else in an often hostile environment – but every front-line jetii Helli knew willingly accepted the extra duty of looking out for their verde – ade would be a better word in some cases – between battles. Kenobi had surely done at least his fair share of that work; even Helli, whose five-person – four, now – team was effectively a floating unit, took her turn among the others when she could. It wasn’t a new idea. There had always been an unspoken agreement among the Jedi that no brother or sister should have to suffer alone; the Order was in many ways a family, one of the largest in the galaxy, and a family looks out for its members.
As Kenobi was looking out for her, she realised. He knew how close she and Echo had been, and that all her close friends were on assignment, so he’d taken it upon himself to check in with her. Someone always did when a Jedi lost a loved one, mostly out of simple compassion, though partly for practical reasons. It was so fatally easy for a Jedi’s warm, open, powerful, vulnerable heart to become cold and closed, with potentially devastating results for all concerned.
She caught herself wondering who had checked in with him when his master had been taken from him so suddenly twelve years before. Somebody would have done so, would have been there for him in his grief, as her best friend Nahdar had been for her in the same position. As Nahdar’s teacher Master Fisto and she had been for each other after Nahdar’s death. As someone would be for everyone who had lost someone on the Citadel mission. For all Master Piell’s many friends. For Rex, mourning one of his most trusted brothers. For Cody, who had seen so many of his men fall, there and elsewhere. For the batchmates, squadmates and other vod’ikase of the other casualties, Charger, Longshot and all the rest. For the survivors, perhaps even the natural-born officers, little though Helli liked some of them. (How, for instance, was Captain Tarkin still in the navy after the disaster on Murkhana? He must have powerful allies…) And, of course, for everyone whose hearts Echo had touched in his too-short life, Helli and her team among them.
As Master Kenobi adroitly changed the subject, asking her about the mission that had taken her away from Echo and Fives at just the wrong time – escorting his old friend, and probable cyare (not that Helli thought they’d ever been anything but friends), Duchess Satine Kryze back to Mandalore – she could still read the message behind his words. You’re not facing this alone. I’m here for you. Just as she was there for her grief-stricken brothers, and always would be.
---
Mando’a glossary (context-dependent):
Jetii: Jedi (singular).
Verde: soldiers.
Ade: sons.
Vod’ikase: dear brothers.
Cyare: beloved.
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Best Minecraft Servers Shortcuts - The easy Way
Pixelmon Generations is a Minecraft mod, but it's spawned an entire bunch of Pokemon-related servers, including PokeSaga, PokeZone, Pixelmon Harmony a strand inside Complicated Gaming, and plenty of more. We’ve lined up a listing of the best Minecraft servers, and inside you’ll discover a large variety of options to check out and find one which matches your preferences. If cuboid reproductions of Nintendo 64 games actually are your bag, baby, then hit the supply hyperlink for information about how you can scope out the public alpha check and download the map for your self. If you wish to check more discretely, it's possible you'll setup your individual authoritative DNS server for testing. Space Engineers. 30TT do not actually cowl it, I guess, however I want we did. A menu will pop up with a drop-down menu to decide on which version of Minecraft you want to launch. There’s even a game referred to as Turbo Kart Racers, which is a surprisingly good racing sport that can pit you in opposition to different players as you attempt to attain the end line first. Be a part of Millions OF Different MINECRAFT Gamers ON Cellphone, CONSOLE, OR Windows Because of Massive Community SERVERS! When you get the grasp of jetpack motion and the interface, you will most likely want to both start a new personal server or join a neighborhood server.
On December 23, Minecraft fans will get their chance to pick up a DVD copy of two Participant Productions' documentary, Minecraft: The Story of Mojang. Like many dad and mom with small children, Keith, the video video games editor of a national newspaper, started to note his son’s instinctive potential to get to grips with new know-how. The documentary follows Minecraft creator Markus Persson after his rise to fame in 2011 and examines the ins and outs of constructing a video game company. The Xbox One launch date is locked in for Friday, September 5, when 360 house owners of Mojang's sandbox recreation shall be have the ability to improve for $5/£4 - Microsoft notes the upgrade applies whether or not you personal a disc or download copy. It's so heavily dependent by itself titles that its income are frequently linked to its flagship games' release schedules -- if there is not a new blockbuster on store shelves, it loses cash. If these passionate players lose money to server downtime, money shop merchandise modifications, or a massive round of rollbacks and wipes, well, hey man, that is just betas, proper? Didn't draw back from using a free-to-play system that allowed players to earn in-recreation gold with out spending cash.
The phrase "beta" signifies that a sport requires extra testing; if a game isn't finished, if its in-sport gadgets have not been confirmed, if it is offering an experience that's in any manner incomplete, it is irresponsible and unethical to take a dime of participant cash till those issues are resolved. Quality Assurance, or QA, is normally an in-house (or outsourced) position at a video games studio for which employees are paid to trace points with a game, but one way or the other publishers have satisfied a big chunk of the gaming populace that this is some sort of privilege to be unlocked by investing money earlier than everyone else. That might be because of the cellular platform's controller, followers have speculated, which is not practically as agile as those on different VR platforms, like Oculus Rift's Touch. In the meantime, Microsoft noted there at the moment are greater than 50 video games which were optimized for contact controls on Xbox Cloud Gaming, including Minecraft Dungeons, Sea of Thieves, Gears 5, Dragon Quest XI: Echoes of an Elusive Age and Slay the Spire. In all probability, but Android meant the corporate did not have to.
Plus -- and this could have gone first -- it's a terrific game that is playable cross-platform. Ok, so you've obtained the game up and running, you have changed your character skin and given your Minecraft world a whole new look, however now it is time to take the following step. Be a part of the Massively writers every Tuesday as we take turns atop our very own soapbox to deliver unfettered editorials a bit exterior our normal purviews and never necessarily shared by Massively as a whole. And there's little doubt that Nintendo might use some help from outdoors. It's ostensibly to help producers set "flexible prices," though it also helps mask the worth of what you're shopping for. Along with the announcement of the second episode's premiere date, Telltale additionally revealed that the first season of Minecraft: Story Mode shall be accessible on Nintendo Change beginning August 22nd in North America and August 25th all over the place else. 5. This injected payload triggers a second stage, and permits an attacker to execute arbitrary code. 9. Up to date title due to some confusion. When Telltale's Story Mode title was first announced, it left many people scratching our heads.
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💗
#for pinning purposes 💖#tbh i was going to trim just gyehyeon’s parts but i’m so emotionally attached to this whole cover i just trimmed it down so tumblr doesn’t#h8 me#i just needed gyehyeon’s parts on my blog thanks 🥲💗#missed his few adlibs in the beginning but ;;;;#i said this already but his timbre is so unique to me hhhh even in get away i was like 0-0 during his parts#not just his lines in this but the extra phrases that echo some of the lines keep this cover so interesting and fun to listen to#i’ve been looping it just ... for the laughs ? and i have no idea how the original sounds#but i feel like the melody is a few of the same notes which isn’t super dynamic#and usually doesnt keep my interest but gye keeps it dynamic ??#bc you think you know what to expect but then he hits you with his runs#and just HHH#and the vocal harmonies aren’t anything super interesting either bc they’re just octaves ?? apart i believe#at least specifically during the chorus but the vocal harmonies on verses aren't just octaves apart#but bc their voices blend together well#and again gye makes it ~spicie~ with the add ons#idk i am very fond of this cover they did such a good job#i think the verses / prechorus parts that yongseung and kangmin have are too low for me hhhh#but when gyehyeon’s verse starts i can go at it bc that’s like 💖 where i’m most comfy as mezzo soprano#which is v typical for pop songs of course aha but still#i can even pick out a slight higher harmony fairly easy when singing along to his part which is harder for me to do for kangmin and ys#which i think isssss just a me thing i need to listen to a song a lot to figure out harmonies usually>.< bc i’m not too musically inclined#but hoyoung omg i always smile uncontrollably at his part he’s neat 😼💗#this was a very roundabout way of me saying i’m obsessed sigh but !#🌱.text#not kpop
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The Arrangement - Part Four
Summary: After their first failure, Lucy and Marcus continue with the schedule as planned and hope for the best.
Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY!), Oral (f receiving), mentions of trying to conceive, mentions of fertility, pregnancy tests (in case that is triggering for anyone) Unedited because I literally finished it and wanted to post it, so sorry for any mistakes.
A/N: Here is the next part! I hope you all enjoy it and I once again apologize for the long wait for this chapter. It’s a long one, coming in at about 7k words.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lucy’s phone chimed on her desk beside her, pulling her attention away from the email she was composing. She had been needing a break, her eyes starting to get tired from staring at her computer screen all morning. She took the opportunity to draft the email and sat back in her cushy office chair, unlocking her phone to view the notification.
Ovulation day!
The two words were framed by little flowers from the theme for the dumb cycle tracking app she’d downloaded a few days after she had started sleeping with Marcus. She hadn’t realized it was her ovulation day and she cursed inwardly; not only was it Tuesday, she also had to work late tonight, so spending an extra night at Marcus’s wasn’t an option.
Dammit. She sighed heavily, placing her phone back on her desk as she thought for a moment. She couldn’t afford to not stay late tonight, but Marcus couldn’t afford to lose one of the best days they had. That really only left one option…but she wasn’t sure if Marcus would agree to it, or if she was up for it either.
She debated it for a long few minutes before she decided it was a risk she was willing to take, and she grabbed her phone to send Marcus a message.
Meet me in the parking garage in five minutes. Level 8.
She hoped she wasn’t being too crazy, that he wouldn’t think she was out of her mind when she revealed her plan. Honestly, she was out of her mind for even thinking about doing something like this at work.
Marcus’s reply came back almost instantly. Everything okay?
Instead of answering, she dropped her phone on her desk and pushed her chair back. She made sure her computer was locked and secured before slipping out of her office and heading towards the elevators. She tried not to look into Marcus’s office on the way, though she knew he must be confused about the situation.
She wanted the mystery to work in her favor.
Level eight of the parking garage was one of the levels that didn’t get much traffic. It was where the extra government vehicles were parked and agents would use them occasionally when they couldn’t use the ones assigned to them. The secluded level would be perfect so long as there weren’t any agents needing a temporary vehicle.
Lucy rode the elevator to floor six and got off, walking quickly to the SUV she’d been issued for her team but didn’t get to use that often. It might as well get some use now, even if it wasn’t exactly what the big-wigs had in mind when they’d handed her the keys.
Driving up to the eighth floor, she moved down the two rows of matching black SUVs and finally parked at the end of the row on the left side. She only hoped it was far enough away that nobody would notice anything.
She tried not to think about the fact that she was slightly turned on by the idea of doing this. Maybe it was the thrill of getting caught, of the consequences of being found doing something so inappropriate on government property.
Stepping out of her car, she walked around to lean against the back end as she waited for Marcus. It only took another minute before the elevator dinged and he stepped out, looking around with a look of confusion on his face before he spotted her and headed her way.
“Lucy? What’s going on?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of her, his brown eyes searching her face for any kind of answer.
For a brief moment, she almost wanted to chicken out. It would be easy to change her mind, even if she would have to come up with an explanation as to why she had dragged him to the parking garage in the middle of the work day.
“So, it’s Tuesday,” she started slowly, trying to decide how to approach the situation.
He nodded slowly. “…yes…”
Lucy laughed lightly, more at the situation that she’d put herself in more than anything else. “It’s Tuesday, and I have to stay late tonight to work on the briefing for tomorrow. But the thing is…I’m ovulating. Today’s the highest chance for pregnancy according to my stupid app, so I didn’t want to miss the chance to try.”
As she rambled, he seemed to put it together. His eyes widened nearly comically and he glanced around the parking level as if someone would be lurking in the shadows watching them.
“You—you want to do it here?” he asked, voice laced with surprise. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
She nodded quickly. “I know it’s crazy, but this could be the day and this is the only time we’ll have to try. We don’t exactly have time to drive anywhere offsite, and I’m not about to do it in a bathroom or a supply closet where anyone could walk in. I figured this would be the best place since nobody really comes up to this level.”
Marcus sputtered, seeming to lose all ability to speak. “W-What? How—How?”
She wondered if he was flustered because he thought she was nuts, or if he liked the idea. She had to admit that the prospect of getting caught had an affect on her in a way she hadn’t realized before; perhaps it had something to do with breaking the rules.
“The back seats lay down, leaves a good amount of room in the trunk. But we don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it; I just won’t be able come over tonight and I didn’t want to miss an ovulation day.”
He was silent and she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. Sometimes she felt like she could read Marcus like a book, and sometimes she felt like he was locked in a safe and she didn’t know the combination. As he eyeballed the back of the SUV, she wondered if she had truly lost her mind when she had thought this was a good idea.
Finally, he gave her a pointed look. “Are you comfortable with this? I don’t want you to think you have to do this just for me.”
Of course, he was being a gentleman about this. Of course, he was putting her comfort above his. It was so on brand for him, and yet that didn’t stop her from being surprised by it. She appreciated it, while also wishing he would think of himself more often.
She chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m the one suggesting this, remember?”
Marcus paused in thought for a moment, his eyes moving from the SUV to her multiple times before he finally nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He agreed.
She wasn’t sure why she was surprised, maybe because she thought public sex was a line he wasn’t willing to cross. If she were being honest with herself, it wasn’t a line she had ever imagined crossing either. Desperate times called for desperate measures, though, right? Something told her this wasn’t what the person who had coined that phrase had in mind.
“Okay.” She echoed, moving to one of the back doors and motioning for him to go around to the other side.
Pulling the door open, she reached for the lever to lower the seat on her side and watched as Marcus did the same. With the back row lying flat, there was plenty of room for the two of them to lay down, which seemed like the best way to not be spotted should anyone actually come to this level. Climbing in was a bit awkward, but they managed to get the doors shut behind them. Kneeling in the back of the SUV, they stared at each other for a beat.
“So, how do we do this?” Marcus wondered, asking the same question she had been mulling over in her head.
She didn’t know why she had to have the answer for everything, but it could have something to do with the fact that she had initiated this encounter. She had been confident about this idea when she’d come up with it, but now she found herself blanking on the next step. Perhaps she didn’t have it in her to be this spontaneous?
“I didn’t really have this all planned out…” she admitted slowly. The awkwardness felt like the first time all over again, and it almost made her laugh.
Marcus nodded. “Okay, so I don’t really want to be caught buck naked at work, so I’m thinking that we stay as clothed as possible.” He suggested.
It was something she could agree with. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. So, pants only then?”
“Pants only.”
Lucy reached down to work on her belt and he did the same. Once her pants were undone and she’d pushed them down her thighs slightly, she sat fully and started pushing them down her legs. It wasn’t the easiest task in the back of the SUV and she found she had to lay down a bit to even get them to her knees.
Marcus’s hands were gently pushing hers away then and he pulled the tight slacks down her legs.
“If I had known this was gonna happen, I would have worn a skirt today.” She joked, slipping her shoes off so he could pull her pants off and push them out of the way.
“Definitely would have been easier.” He teased as he slotted his hips between her thighs and leaned over her to press his lips to hers.
His belt was hanging open, the cool metal pressing against the skin of her inner thigh and making her jump slightly. Their tongues tangled and she wanted to run her hands through his hair the way he liked, but she didn’t want to make it obvious what he’d been doing away from his desk. Instead, she reached down and finished opening his pants for him, lowering the zipper and slipping her hand inside to palm him over his briefs.
Marcus groaned into her mouth, pressing his hips into her hand as his teeth nipped at her bottom lip and then her chin before his lips returned to hers in a heated kiss. He rolled his hips against her palm and she squeezed him gently, pulling another groan from his throat, followed by his hand grasping her wrist in warning.
Lucy chuckled against his lips, beginning to squeeze again only to be surprised by his next move.
The grip on her wrist tightened and he yanked her hand from his pants, pinning her wrist down next to her head. He pulled away to stare down at her, his chest heaving as his eyes narrowed playfully at her.
“What?” she asked in feigned innocence, stifling a laugh.
For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he simply shook his head at her with a laugh of his own. He released her wrist and supported his weight on his hand next to her head, the other reaching down to begin pushing his pants and briefs down.
Taking it as a cue, she reached down to do the same with her underwear, sliding them down her legs as best she could as he pushed his down to his knees.
“Can’t believe we’re actually doing this.” He commented as he situated himself between her legs again, his erection bobbing against his stomach where he’d pulled his dress shirt up out of the way of any potential messes.
She wanted to ask him if it was as exhilarating to him as it was to her, but she thought that maybe he didn’t see it that way, that he’d find it weird that she did. She’d discovered a lot of things about herself since they’d begun sleeping together, a lot of things that excited her despite the fact that she’d never considered them in that light before. Perhaps she was more depraved than she realized.
“We don’t have to.” She reminded him, just in case he was having second thoughts. She wasn’t sure if he was given the way he was already so ready, the tip of him already leaking. Despite his body’s reaction, though, she wanted to give him the chance to back out.
Marcus’s met her gaze, and his voice came out soft despite the way his eyes had darkened with lust. “I want to.” He reassured her while silently asking if she still wanted this as well.
There was a long beat of silence as she stared up at him. She admired his handsome features, the way a lock of his perfectly styled hair had fallen onto his forehead and the way his nose curved down towards his plump lips. That single dimple that she found so endearing.
It still baffled her how he didn’t already have a beautiful wife and family.
She found herself unable to respond verbally, so she reached up to pull his mouth back down to hers.
He got the hint, pressing his body down close to hers as he reached down to position himself at her entrance. He slid his tip up and down her folds a couple of times, gathering her wetness before pressing into her slowly. He eased in until his hips were flush against hers, both moaning in unison as their lips parted, their foreheads pressed together.
There was no going back now; Lucy’s knees brushed against his sides as she hitched her legs up further on his hips, pulling him deeper inside her with a soft sigh against his mouth.
His hips drew back slowly and then he slid forward again, repeating the movement a few times. As good as he felt, as good as the slide of him inside her walls made her feel, she knew they didn’t have the same amount of time they usually did and anyone could come up to this floor at any time.
“We have to hurry.” She gasped as he filled her again.
He pulled almost completely out of her and paused. For just a moment she thought he might stop, but then he thrust forward, driving into her hard and fast, wasting no time before he did it again, and again.
Lucy clung to his shoulders, hands fisting in the material of his shirt as she held on, small and breathy moans escaping her each time he filled her. She knew his shirt might be wrinkled by her hands, but at least he could cover it with his suit jacket if he needed to. For now, all she needed to be focused on was the pleasure rolling through her with his movements, and the hope that the risk they were taking would pay off in the end.
The rhythm they had created had the SUV rocking gently; if anyone saw they would definitely know what was happening inside.
Marcus was hovering over her, supporting his weight on one hand as the other hooked under her right knee to press her leg closer to her chest. The new angle had him driving deeper inside and brushing against her just right; the slap of his hips against hers as he worked at a bruising pace only echoed by their sounds of pleasure.
One of Lucy’s hands scrambled down from his shoulder, desperate for purchase. She gripped at his side where his shirt was raised, nails biting into the skin as she rolled her hips up to meet his.
Marcus groaned above her in response to the scratch of her nails and as he thrust forward again, he took a moment to grind his pelvis against hers.
“Oh, fuck.” She gasped, reaching up to cup his jaw and pull his mouth back down to hers.
Their tongues tangled as they moaned into each other’s mouths, hips working together to get them closer to their release. Just as Lucy felt herself approaching the cliff, the ding of the elevator startled them.
They both jumped, freezing their movements as Marcus hunched over her as if he was trying to shield her semi-nude body from any prying eyes. His head lifted slightly to peek out the window and Lucy waited with baited breath for someone to catch them.
They would surely be fired if they were caught having sex at work.
Marcus’s brown eyes were locked on whoever had arrived on the parking level. The sound of voices filled the concrete structure and Lucy thought for sure things were going to end badly.
Unexpectedly, Marcus slowly rolled his hips against hers, causing her eyes to flutter involuntarily.
“Wha—?”
“Ssshh.” Marcus shushed softly, eyes not leaving the window as he pulled out slowly only to fill her again at the same pace.
Was he really doing this? As he rocked his hips again, it seemed he was.
His eyes never left the window as he moved slowly over her. She could hear voices on the parking level, although they were several vehicles away. Each push and pull of his hips had him brushing up against the sensitive spot inside her and it only served to drive her closer and closer to the edge.
Although she tried to stop it, she couldn’t completely hide the small moan that escaped her as his hips ground against hers. She knew she needed to keep quiet for both their sakes, but it just felt too good.
Marcus gently shushed her again, the tips of his first three fingers pressing delicately to her lips to keep her quiet.
God, there was something about the need to keep quiet that had her so close.
The soft thudding of car doors shutting echoed through the parking garage and Marcus used the opportunity to snap his hips against hers just a little harder, pulling another whimper from her throat as her eyes fluttered closed.
An engine started before the vehicle could be heard driving down the ramp exiting the level and Marcus pulled his hand away from her mouth, driving his hips forward as he returned to the pace they’d set before the interruption.
Lucy tried to ignore the way she missed his fingers over her lips, choosing to drag his mouth back down to hers for a heated kiss, lifting her hips to meet his hard thrusts as one of his arms wrapped around her to hold her body against his.
“Fuck.” Lucy gasped against his mouth, feeling herself once again on the precipice. One of her hands fisted in his shirt again, while the other seemed to have a mind of its own and slid around to grasp a handful of his backside as if it would help guide his movements. She couldn’t think straight, all she knew was how good he felt, and then she was tumbling over the edge with a string of moans.
Marcus buried his face in her neck, working her through her orgasm with a groan of his own at the way she pulsed around him. His arm tightened around her, fingers digging into her ribcage as his thrusts become shallow and deliberate as he desperately chased after his own release.
Lucy’s hand left his shirt, reaching up to smooth through the hair on the back of his head as if she was encouraging him to let go. Her nails dug into his backside as she gently tugged on the soft locks of hair, eliciting a moan from where he was tucked into her neck.
A little encouragement was all it took and he was there, warmth blossoming inside her as he filled her with rope after rope. He moaned slowly, nuzzling against her neck as he came down from his high.
They laid there like that for a minute or two as they cooled down, tangled up in each other despite the fact that they didn’t have the luxury of their normal wind down time. Even though they needed to get back to work before anyone noticed they were both missing, neither of them moved. Perhaps it had been the fact that they had almost been caught or that they had done this at work, but it had made this time more exhilarating, and in turn had exhausted them.
Regardless, Lucy didn’t mind a little extra time with his arms around her.
After what felt like five minutes or more, she rubbed both her hand up and down his back slowly. “We have to get back to work.” She spoke softly, her voice raw.
Marcus nodded against her throat. “Mmhmm.” He mumbled, arm squeezing around her tighter for several seconds before he slowly pulled back to look down at her, his eyes darkened with something other than lust.
Lucy’s fingers brushed over his cheekbone and she glanced at the fogged over window over their heads. “We totally missed the opportunity to recreate Titanic.” She noted with a chuckle.
He laughed lightly, brushing her hair off her forehead. “Maybe next time.” He offered, still slightly out of breath from the exertion.
Lucy raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmm…are you trying to get caught with your pants down regularly?”
“Well, I was thinking we’d park somewhere more discrete, but if you wanted to do it in the middle of the road, that’s fine too.”
She shook her head at him, rolling her eyes playfully. “As thrilling as it was to almost lose my job, I think we should stick with discretion in the future.”
It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Oh, it was thrilling for you, huh?” he teased.
Another eyeroll. “Getting less thrilling by the second.”
He snickered, leaning down to press his lips against hers in a chaste kiss that quickly turned heated.
She allowed it for a few seconds before pushing against his chest. “Okay, okay, we gotta get back to work.” As much as she would have enjoyed potentially going for another round, she knew they could both only be away from their offices for so long before it became suspicious.
“I know, I know.” He sighed, taking a second before he slipped out of her and rolled onto his back, beginning to put his clothes back together.
Lucy reached for her underwear, pulling them back on before moving for her pants. It was a bit awkward trying to redress in the back of the SUV, but they quickly got themselves presentable.
“Okay, I’m gonna drive this back to where I originally parked and you can go back to your office. That way we don’t show back up at the same time.”
He nodded as he opened the car door and climbed out. “That’s probably a good idea. Don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”
She rounded the back end of the car and reached up to fix his collar before smoothing her hands over the wrinkles on his shoulders from her hands. “Well, I think they’ll probably figure it out when I get pregnant.” She shrugged nonchalantly.
Marcus paused, eyes widening slightly as he took in her words. Lucy didn’t seem to register what she’d said, adjusting her own shirt as best she could using the reflection in the car window.
“When?”
She turned at the surprise in his voice, finding his face open with awe. “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?” She teased him with a chuckle. Inwardly, she too realized that she’d said when instead of if. Maybe it was just positive thinking, or maybe she just knew it was going to work out for him. As good a guy as Marcus Pike was, he deserved to have a family and surely whatever deity reigned above would see that.
“Y-Yeah,” he swallowed hard. “I guess it was just different hearing you sound so sure about it.”
“Look, I know I’ve been sort of a Debbie Downer the last few days—”
“—No! It was rough when things didn’t work out, I understand why you were upset. I was, too. It’s just nice to hear you feeling positive again.”
Lucy grinned at him, stepping closer and resting her hands on his hips. “Well, that would be the endorphins, probably. You know, from the mind-blowing sex we just had?”
He couldn’t help but laugh in response, nodding his head in agreement. “Well, I suppose you’re right.”
“I always am.”
Stretching onto her toes, she pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss before she stepped away. If she let it go any further, they might end up in the SUV again.
“Okay, get back upstairs before someone notices.”
“As you wish.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peeing on a stick always felt so weird to her. She’d had her fair share of pregnancy scares in college, so it was nothing new, but the act of trying to land as much urine on the tip of a stick as she could was always odd. Having to stop several times to use multiple tests was just as strange, but soon she was standing in front of the bathroom sink with three pregnancy tests in front of her.
Two minutes and she’d know. Two minutes and her life would either change for the better or continue to be stressful for the short amount of time Marcus had left before his surgery.
“Are you sure it’s not too soon?” the man in question asked from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed.
She’d opened the bathroom door after she’d peed on the sticks, not wanting to wait for the results alone.
“I don’t know, these tests say you can take them as early as ten days after unprotected sex.” She said, studying the box again. “I mean, we’ve done it plenty of times since the SUV, but something about that time felt like it worked.”
“Probably just those endorphins.”
She gave him a wry look, rolling her eyes even though she knew he was probably right. She couldn’t explain it, but something about that time felt right. And, yeah, maybe it was just the rush she’d gotten from almost being caught or the fact that it had been one of their best moments together, but she still needed to check. Besides, the only harm that could come from a negative result would be disappointment, and she was already chalk full of that.
“It’s been two minutes.” Marcus said softly, breaking her from her thoughts.
She took a deep breath and stepped closer, leaning down to check the tests. Her shoulders slumped.
They were all negative.
When Marcus spoke again, his voice was closer, in the room with her. “Maybe we did it too early.” He offered softly.
Lucy sighed heavily, scooping up the tests and dropping them in the trash can with a loud thunk. This was the first time they’d tried actually taking tests—the first failure had come in the form of her menstrual cycle—and she had hoped for the kind of excitement that happened in movies all the time where the couple takes the test and see the positive result and cry in each other’s arms; that was a sham.
“Hey, hey,” He seemed to pick up on her mood shift immediately, his hands moving to rest on her shoulders. “It’s probably just too early. Don’t worry, we still have plenty of time.”
“Plenty of time? Marcus, you only have like forty days before your surgery. I thought this would be easier. Like…I know that people struggle with this stuff all the time but we’ve also been having a lot of unprotected sex. How could one of those times not have taken?”
He maneuvered her body to face him, his hands returning to her shoulders where he continued to squeeze reassuringly. “Sometimes it just takes time, remember? Don’t get so stressed out, it doesn’t help.”
“It’s hard not to be stressed when your clock is running out.”
There was a long silence between them before he perked up. “Let’s go out tonight. Blow off some steam, have some drinks. It’ll be good for the both of us.”
Lucy shook her head. “We’re not supposed to drink, remember?”
He rolled his eyes. “One night won’t hurt us, I promise. We both need to relax a little.”
For a moment, she thought about it. What could it hurt to have some fun for one night? If the stress was already ruining things for them, then alcohol could only help, right? If it loosened her up and made her less stressed, that had to help a bit. Perhaps it was a good idea.
Finally, she caved. “Okay, okay. Let’s go out.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lucy couldn’t contain the giggle that escaped her as they stumbled into her apartment a few hours later. She was lingering somewhere between tipsy and fully drunk, feeling good after a night drinking away her worries; they weren’t supposed to drink while trying to conceive, at least according to all the research, but it had been nice to unwind after feeling so stressed out. Stress wasn’t good for conceiving either, so she figured alcohol wouldn’t hurt this once.
Marcus, who was equally feeling the effects of the alcohol, locked the door behind them and ushered her into the kitchen. He immediately went for the cabinet he knew housed her glasses and pulled one down, filling it with water from the faucet and taking a gulp before handing it to her.
Even wasted he was a gentleman.
Their eyes locked over the rim of the glass as she drank and she slowly lowered the glass to the countertop, eyes never leaving his. The silence was palpable, the tension in the room so thick she could cut it with a knife if she wanted to. She reached for him and he met her halfway, their mouths meeting in a searing kiss.
His hands were all over her as hers bunched in his shirt, their tongues tangling, and Lucy was reminded once again that she wasn’t as good at keeping things casual as she would have preferred. She wondered if he felt the same or if this was easier for him.
He trailed kissed down her jaw and neck, nipping at her skin gently and soothing over the spots with a flick of his tongue as she panted, a whimper escaping her as he sucked lightly on that sensitive spot beneath her ear.
He didn’t stop there. He pressed kisses to her collarbone and then her chest, moving lower until he was kneeling in front of her. His hands brushed against the skin of her thighs and slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, his eyes turning up to meet hers as he pushed the fabric until it was bunched around her hips.
She gasped as his lips pressed against her inner thigh, light as a feather as he trailed kisses upwards. In all the time they’d spent together, they hadn’t done this—they’d been more focused on getting straight to the point—and she felt like her heart was about to explode out of her chest.
Fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, his eyes on hers once again as he began to drag them down her hips and thighs until they fell to pool around her ankles. She stepped out of them, kicking them aside as she gripped the edge of the counter in anticipation. She was already soaked.
His hand gripped underneath her left knee and he lifted the leg to hook it over his shoulder. His eyes finally left hers as he began trailing kisses up her leg from her knee until he reached the spot she wanted him most. There was a moment of pause as he seemed to take her in, before he leaned forward and dragged his tongue through her folds in one smooth stroke, ending at the bundle of nerves, which he circled slowly with the tip of his tongue.
Lucy gasped, one hand leaving the counter to thread her fingers through his hair. Her eyes fell closed as she relished the feeling.
He certainly knew what he was doing as he got to work, and before long she was moaning breathlessly as she clung to him. She canted her hips slowly against his mouth, and she wasn’t sure which she liked more: his tongue on her clit or when his tongue trailed further down and his nose rubbed against it just right.
Her right leg was shaking as it tried to support her weight as she verged on the edge, her body was on fire. She wanted to ask how he’d gotten so good at this, but she didn’t want to think about the women in his past too much either.
His tongue flicked her clit once more before his mouth closed around it and he sucked lightly. It was all it took to send her over the precipice with a whine. Her fingers tugged on his hair and she struggled to stay upright, and he gripped her hips to keep her standing as he lapped at her center and slowly brought her down from her high.
“Shit.”
Marcus chuckled against her, pulling away to look up at her once more; his face was shiny from her wetness, and he licked his lips before wiping his face on the back of his hand as he stood.
She reached for him, pulling his mouth back to hers for a kiss, tasting herself on him. That had definitely sobered her up. She could feel his hardness pressing against her hip and although her legs were shaking, the release sent a thrill through her and she reached down to quickly undo his belt.
Perhaps he was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, or maybe going down on her had sent him into a frenzy like some kind of shark, because he gripped her hips and turned her around to face the other way. As her hands landed on the countertop, she could hear his belt jingling and then the unzipping of his pants. Her teeth bit into the pillow of her bottom lip in anticipation, still amped up from her high.
The rustling of fabric told her he’d freed himself, and then his hands were on her hips; he pushed the skirt of her dress up higher and stepped closer, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down her spine. There seemed to be a moment of hesitation and then he asked with a raspy voice: “Is this okay?”
It was something she found she really loved about him—he had already brought her to orgasm with his tongue and they’d had sex numerous times, but he was still asking if it was okay to take her from behind. Anyone else would have laughed, but she found it to be very attractive.
“Yes.” She replied, barely over a whisper at the thought of what was to come.
He nudged her feet further apart with one of his and then she felt the tip of him brushing through her folds. She leaned forward over the counter more and angled her hips better and then he was pushing forward slowly until he was fully seated inside her.
She moaned softly at the feeling, pressing back against him.
Marcus pressed his face into her hair, inhaling her scent as he remained still for a moment as if he was collecting himself, or maybe gathering the strength to continue. Then, ever so slowly, he withdrew until just the tip was left inside of her. He paused again, adjusted his grip on her hips, and then thrust forward quickly to fill her completely. He repeated the motion several times until he was pounding into her.
She wasn’t quite sure how he managed to be gentle and rough at the same time, and the pace he had chosen surprised her; not that she didn’t think he had it in him, but that it was new. If it stole the breath from her lungs, she wasn’t complaining. He mouthed at her neck and shoulder, where the thin strap of her dress had fallen down her arm. The contrast between the gentle grazing of his teeth on her skin and the brutal thrusts inside her had her weak in the knees.
“Fuck.” She moaned, doubling over to press her forehead to the countertop, relishing in the cool surface against her heated skin.
Marcus’s hands were gripping her hips tightly, his own hips meeting her backside over and over and creating a delicious noise that echoed off the kitchen tiles, the grunts and groans spilling from his lips matched her own. One of his hands smoothed up her back and he gripped her shoulder, angling his hips on the next thrust and pulling her back against him.
Lucy’s breath left her again in a string of moans as the new angle hit perfectly every time.
“Stop that racket!” a voice shouted from the other side of the wall, along with a fist pounding.
She couldn’t help but laugh at her neighbor, an elderly man who made tons of noise but hated when anyone else made even a peep. She heard Marcus chuckling behind her, but the intrusion only seemed to spur him on and his hips smacked harder against hers. It had her moaning louder, and she realized that had been his intention all along.
Though she probably wouldn’t admit it, she liked that he wanted to antagonize her neighbor.
The hand that had been at her shoulder slid down her side and around her front, dipping between her legs to circle her clit with the pads of his fingers. As she reached to grip the edge of the counter, her arm knocked into the forgotten glass of water and sent it tumbling to the floor where it surprisingly didn’t shatter. Neither one of them paid it any mind as their releases approached rapidly.
The neighbor was pounding on the wall again, but it was doing him more harm than good as the sounds echoed louder against the tiles.
“I am going to call the landlord!” the elderly man yelled on the other side.
“S-So call them!” Lucy shouted back, just as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. If the neighbor hadn’t made such a big deal, she would have tried to stifle her moans, but instead she lifted her head from where it had been resting on the countertop and let him hear it just because she knew it would infuriate him.
Marcus’s face was buried in her neck and his warm breath huffed against her skin as he laughed at her reaction. His movements were frantic, desperate, as he chased his own release and it didn’t take long for him to stiffen behind her. He pressed his body close to hers and groaned into her ear as he filled her.
They were still for a long moment, panting as they came down.
“I don’t think your neighbor likes you.” He joked, pressing a kiss to her neck.
Lucy laughed out loud, knowing it would also annoy the man in question. “I don’t really care.” She shrugged the shoulder his head wasn’t resting against.
“I’ll leave earbuds on his doormat.”
“No, let him listen. It’s probably the most action he’s gotten in decades.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s a Tuesday night two weeks later that it happens. She’s reorganizing her bathroom purely due to boredom and she stumbles across a box of pregnancy tests. She peeked inside and felt her heart race a little; there was one test left.
Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she pulled the test out and debated using it. They had been keeping up with their schedule, meeting at his place minus a couple of times when they really wanted to annoy her neighbor. Even though the three tests she’d taken two weeks ago had been negative, it didn’t mean she wasn’t pregnant then. False negatives happened all the time if the test was taken too early.
Maybe now is the right time.
She ripped the plastic wrapper off the test and moved to the toilet, glad she hadn’t used the bathroom yet. As she finished and set the test on the sink so she could wash her hands, she glanced up at herself in the mirror.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Luce.” She whispered to herself. She knew if it came back negative, which it more than likely would, it would only hurt more.
She had to step out of the room because she knew it would only make the minutes go by slower. What was that saying? A watched pot never boils? So, a watched pregnancy test never develops? She moved to the kitchen to start putting away the dishes in the dishwasher. By the time she finished, five minutes had passed.
It was time.
“Shit.” She whispered to herself, shuffling nervously towards the bathroom.
What was she going to do if it was negative? Marcus didn’t have much time left, if it wasn’t going to happen then that would break both their hearts.
But what if it was positive? It was what they’d wanted all along, but she couldn’t help but feel her stomach flip with nerves at the idea that all their efforts had paid off. It wasn’t because she didn’t want a baby, but because she did.
The test was sitting upright on the counter, all it would take was for her to step forward and she’d know. One step forward. It was just one step.
Knowing if she didn’t do it now, she’d never do it, she stepped forward quickly and snatched the test up, lifting it to stare down at the tiny plastic window.
Her heart jumped into her throat.
It was positive.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: I didn’t add pregnancy on the list of warnings because I didn’t want to spoil it. But also, if you are reading a fic that is specifically about getting pregnant, that is kind of a given.
Tag list: (strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you)
@absurdthirst @meanperegrine @hopeamarsu @bison-writes @giselatropicana @melispunk @hnt-escape @cheekygeek05 @bluemoon-glen @star-wars-hell @lawfulgranola @underwaterwonderscapes @words-way-of-life @kesskirata @rosiefridayrogersunday-reads @nicolethered @fangirl-316 @finnisrioting @janelongxox @hellovanessax @a-trial-run-on-paper @christina-loves @moonlightburned @generallybrontidefeelings @shakespeareanwannabe @griscka75 @neganwifey25-blog @tacticalsparkles @daffodin @fastandfeminist @valentinasubmarina @a-skov @ptutts @librariantothejedi @janebby @redsilentwolf28 @tuskens-mando @spideysimpossiblegirl @skeletonstwins
Please let me know if you would like to be added to (or removed from) the tag list!
#The Arrangement#marcus pike#marcus pike smut#pedro pascal smut#marcus pike fic#the mentalist#pedro pascal fic#mywriting#didn't add pregnancy as a warning bc i didn't want to spoil it so i apologize
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Five Lies
Day 6, Story #2 is by @be11atrixthestrange
Author/Artist: be11atrixthestrange
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Prompt: 5+1
Rating: M
Trigger Warning(s) (if any): mentions of character death
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Five Lies
Five times Ron lied to Hermione, and one time he told the truth
---------------
-Year Four -
The Common Room
Ron was thankful the common room was empty, because he needed a moment alone. He plopped down into an armchair by the fire, and breathed a heavy sigh. His throat felt tight, and his eyes stung with unshed tears. He didn't need a mirror to tell him that his face was as red as a beet; he could feel it.
Earlier in the Great Hall, Fleur had asked him to pass the bread, and he just stared at her. Like an idiot.
George's voice still echoed in his ear. "Ronniekins, aren't you going to say something?"
And then Fred had to make it worse. "He can't! He's too busy drooling."
It seemed that everyone followed suit and laughed at him, even Fleur, whose cheeks glowed pink, her expression full of amusement and pity.
Why did Fred and George always embarrass him? They also lost their cool around Fleur — it wasn't just Ron. None of the Weasley boys knew how to act around a Veela. Ron just wished he could control it better.
"Ron? Are you okay?"
Ron froze at the sound of Hermione's voice. He hadn't heard her come in. She took a seat in the armchair across from him, but he avoided her gaze, choosing to shake his head instead.
"They were just joking around, you know," she said. Her tone was sympathetic, and he realized that he didn't care that she almost caught him crying. She would never tell anyone.
"I wish they wouldn't," he said, the words escaping through gritted teeth.
"I know. It's not fair."
Ron could feel her intent gaze, and looked up to meet her eyes. He always liked her eyes. They were big and brown, but the specific shade changed all the time. In the firelight, they almost looked hazel. "Why do they always make fun of me?
Hermione shrugged. "They probably just think you fancy her."
Ron raised his eyebrows at her. "Who, Fleur?"
"Yes, Fleur. Who else?"
He did not fancy Fleur. He didn't even know her.
It was just her stupid Veela power that made him act like an idiot.
"Well, I don't fancy her. I don't fancy anyone." The phrase took a defensive tone, slipping from his lips without a second thought. As soon as he said it, he realized that it didn't even sound true.
"You really don't fancy anyone?" Something unrecognizable crossed her face. Surprise, maybe. Maybe Hermione really did think he fancied Fleur.
He looked her in the eye and wanted more than anything to tell her the truth, but it didn't feel like an option. The thought of telling Hermione that he did, in fact, fancy someone made him a thousand times more nervous than Fleur asking him to pass the bread.
"Really. I don't fancy anyone."
Hermione's eyes narrowed, almost as if she didn't believe him. "I'm going to go to bed," she said, before turning away and shuffling off toward the girls' dormitory.
Ron watched her walk away, confusion etched across his face. It felt like a premature end to their conversation. Maybe she knew he was lying?
He shook his head. It probably wasn't about him. It was possible she wasn't feeling well — she had been looking a little pale, anyway. With a shrug, Ron rose to his feet and started toward his own dormitory, hoping Hermione would feel better in the morning.
-Year Five-
The Corridor
Ron never thought he'd look forward to Prefect rounds. He had assumed they'd be nothing but a chore, cutting into his valued free time, preventing him from getting down to the Quidditch pitch to practice. He thought he'd fall behind on homework by dedicating a certain number of hours each week to his duties, but it wasn't an issue at all.
As it turned out, he didn't mind the extra work. Patrolling the corridors at night was a nice reprieve from the stress of schoolwork, and it gave him a much-needed break from dealing with Harry's constant brooding.
It didn't hurt that he got to do it with Hermione. In fact, that's probably what made it most enjoyable. They hadn't spent much time together, just the two of them, in a long while. Not since Hogsmeade visits during their third year, and it was nice.
Ron noticed things about Hermione when they were alone, things he'd never have paid attention to otherwise. Like the way she ran her fingers along the wall when they turned a corner, like she was drawing a line in sand, or how she constantly tucked her hair behind her ears only for it to pop back out again.
He learned that she licked her lips right before she spoke, and that's how Ron knew she was about to interrupt him mid-conversation. It was infuriating when she did that, but he never wanted it to stop.
"What's left to check?" she asked, startling him.
"Oh, erm, just the seventh floor, I think," he said.
"Okay, let's go. Maybe we can finish rounds early."
She turned the corner, and Ron followed behind, watching her skip down the hall. Hermione seemed to like Prefect rounds too; he could tell by the bounce in her step. Everything about her seemed to be relaxed; her stride, her smile, and her overall demeanor. Her shirt hung loosely on her frame, as she'd released its top button, and her socks were pushed down to her ankles, as if even her clothes knew it was the end of the day.
He shouldn't be thinking about her clothes. That was dangerous territory.
Ron cleared his throat. "Yeah, that would be fun. Could always use more free time."
"Or, you could use the extra time to get ahead on McGonagall's essay," she teased, smiling back at him. His neck felt hot.
"Only if you help me."
"Of course," she said. "Homework is more fun when we do it together."
"I agree."
Ron was beside her now, and he stole another glance in her direction. Her face was flushed; it was warm on the higher floors, and her skin glowed from a light sheen of sweat. How had he never noticed that she had a few scattered freckles on her nose?
"Why do you keep doing that?" she asked. Her eyes were on him now, and he felt the warmth in his neck spreading.
"Doing what?" he asked, his tone defensive.
"You're staring at me!"
"I"m no—"
"Yes, you keep doing it," she argued. Although her cheeks were rosy and her eyes narrowed, she wore a faint smirk and didn't seem to be angry. She was just teasing him.
He kind of liked it.
"Well, if you must know, you have something on your cheek," he lied.
"I do?" asked Hermione as she wiped her face with her sleeve. "Did I get it?"
"No, let me try."
Hermione paused and took a step closer to him. He reached a hand up to her face to cup it and brushed a thumb across her cheek, trying to ignore the tidal wave that crashed in his stomach at the contact. Her skin was so soft.
He couldn't let his hand linger on her face without attracting suspicion, so with great effort, he let it drop to his side.
"Is it gone?"
"Um. Yeah."
She pressed a hand to her cheek. "What was it?"
Nothing. "Not sure," he said.
"Hmm," shrugged Hermione. "Well, thank you!" She turned to skip back down the hallway, a few strides in front of Ron.
"No problem," muttered Ron.
He could still feel a tingle on his thumb, the memory of her soft skin still fresh on his mind. He watched her run ahead of him, trying not to think too hard about the way her hair bounced or her skirt fluttered with each stride, because it was maddening.
He groaned. As maddening as it was, he hoped that would never stop. That way, he could keep it on the list of reasons to look forward to Prefect rounds.
-Year Six-
The Courtyard
Finally, Ron was alone on a bench in the courtyard, having just convinced Lavender to let him be so he could "study". In reality, he just needed some space.
He liked her enough, but being with Lavender wasn't what he had imagined having a girlfriend to be like. It was nothing like being friends with a girl, at least from his limited experience. All Lavender wanted to do was snog, and Ron missed having someone to talk to, tease, and argue with.
Truth was, he missed Hermione. But unfortunately, she wanted nothing to do with him. She made that perfectly clear in the form of a flock of canaries, and he still had the scabs to remind him.
Ron closed his eyes and was enjoying the silence when the most unexpected voice pulled him back to the present.
"Hey."
His eyes snapped open to see Hermione standing there, right in front of him. Think of the devil.
"Hey." His response just spilled out of his mouth, and it didn't take on the angry tone he had intended. He sounded almost excited to see her.
Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "Ron, can I talk to you?"
Ron cleared his throat and asked in his most stoic tone, "Promise not to attack me again?"
"I promise."
"Then go on," he said, crossing his arms across his chest so Hermione could get a full view of his scars.
"I'm— I'm sorry about that." She motioned to his arms, and her eyes watered with tears.
"I know you are."
She averted her eyes and licked her lips before continuing. "I was jealous, and it wasn't fair. I hope you can forgive me someday."
She continued to stare intently toward the ground as her cheeks brightened, and Ron resisted a smile.
"You were jealous?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her. He kept his face neutral, but he couldn't lie — it was a nice thing to hear. He just wished he heard it sooner.
Hermione nodded and finally met his gaze. "I was."
Her eyes were strikingly dark and deep, a fact he'd always appreciated, but had forgotten over the last few weeks. He could stare at them for hours, but he willed himself not to fall under their spell. "Why didn't you talk to me instead of turning birds on me?"
Everything would have been so much easier.
"That's why I'm talking to you now."
"Well, it's too bloody late. I'm with Lavender," he said, unsure who he was trying to convince.
"I know it's too late. I just wanted you to know."
It seemed like an eternity that they stood there in silence, neither wanting to continue the conversation nor feeling like it was over.
Hermione was the first to break the silence. "Are you happy with her?"
And how the hell was he supposed to answer that?
Ron was thrilled Lavender wanted to be with him. She wanted to kiss him, hold his hand in public, and call him her boyfriend. What wasn't to love? He should be happy with her, she was almost everything he had ever wanted.
That, and he'd be an ungrateful arse if he said no. "Yeah. I am."
She nodded solemnly, and Ron swore he could see her eyes glisten with tears. "Then I'll try to be happy for you too," she said, her voice cracking.
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. It wouldn't have mattered anyway because Hermione had already turned her back to him and was walking away. He watched until she turned the corner, trying to convince himself that he had told her the truth.
-Year Seven-
The Tent
Rain pounded against the canvas tent, and the way the sound echoed through the air made the space feel hollow and empty. Ron could feel the weight of the locket around his neck, its chain digging into his skin. It felt almost like icy fingers clutching his throat, threatening to squeeze should he try to ignore it. He didn't think he could ignore it, even if he tried. The cold metal against his skin paired with its threatening voice inside his head almost commanded more attention than the slowly healing wound on his shoulder.
Ron was lying on his cot, covered in blankets that seemed to do nothing to keep him warm. He could hear Hermione flipping through a book across the room in her own bed, probably just as cold as he was.
"How's your shoulder?" she asked. To Ron, her voice sounded full of both pity and impatience, as if her real question was why he hadn't healed yet. What was taking him so long?
She doesn't actually care about your shoulder.
"It's fine," he snapped back.
He could feel the tension in the pause that followed, and even though he wasn't looking at her, he could imagine her jaw clenching, her cheeks reddening, and her eyes rolling.
"You don't need anything?" she eventually asked, her tone stiff and controlled.
Listen to her. She thinks you're pathetic. Needy. It disgusts her.
Instead of answering, Ron just shook his head. He knew she was watching him because he could feel her big brown eyes boring into him.
"Okay then."
He heard her book close, then the sound of her sliding out of bed. Ron turned to look just as she bent down to rummage through her bag. She faced her back to him, and Ron could make out the shape of her bum through her sweatpants. It sent a pang of longing through his entire body, and the locket wasted no time latching on to the opportunity to harass him further.
Go ahead and look, but don't kid yourself; you'll never touch.
He averted his eyes when she stood up.
"What are you doing, then?" she asked, now clutching a different stack of books under her arm.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" she chirped. Her voice wavered as she lost control of keeping it neutral. "You know we have horcruxes to find."
She narrowed her eyes, and her cheeks ignited with red. Her hair seemed to expand and swarm her head. It wasn't just anger that did that to her. She looked electric whenever her passion was kindled, whether due to anger, schoolwork, elf-rights, or him.
He could rile her up, and Merlin, did he enjoy doing it. He was always up for helping her unleash that stored up tension through an argument. Often he wondered how else he could help her find that release. A few ideas came to mind.
Never going to happen.
"Are you seriously angry at me?" he asked, his tone sharp and scathing.
"You know what? Yeah, I am," she launched back.
"Well, sorry I'm injured, Hermione," he laughed, now sitting up in bed. "Let's not forget that you're the one who got me splinched."
"And let's not forget that I'm doing everything I can to help you heal."
She thinks you're a burden. A waste of her time.
"Okay, then stop complaining about me not doing anything when you know I can't."
Hermione crossed her arms and took a step closer. Ron willed himself to keep his eyes on her face, even though her shirt was too big, so the sleeves fell off her shoulder, and there was a patch of exposed skin above her waistband, reminding Ron of how soft her skin was. It had been so long since he touched her.
"Then stop staring at me like that," she said. "I can't tell if you're mad at me or if you want me to do something for you, and honestly, I'm kind of sick of cooking you dinner and not even hearing a thank you."
Don't you dare give her the satisfaction of apologizing.
"Seriously, what do you want from me?" she continued.
What a loaded question. Ron wanted everything from her — her time, her attention, and her body. When she removed his shirt to check his wound, he wanted her to remove his trousers too. He wanted her to crawl in bed with him and let him take her clothes off, piece by piece. He wanted to be strong enough to hold himself up so she could slide underneath him and wrap her legs around his hips. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, shag her, and then hold her afterward, fall asleep together, and wake up entangled with her.
Too bad she doesn't want you back.
"I don't want anything from you."
She softened her stare and took a step back. Maybe he was reading too much into her expression, but Ron could have sworn he saw a flash of disappointment on her face, as if she hoped there would be something he wanted from her.
You're imagining that.
"Good," she said, unknowingly confirming the locket's taunt, before turning away and leaving him there, in his bed, cold and alone.
-Year Seven-
Shell Cottage
Although Ron might have looked peaceful and serene sitting so still, his mind was anything but calm. He closed his eyes and leaned against the back of the armchair, trying his best to fall asleep, but he was far from tired. His back ached, and he longed to get up and move, but it wasn't worth leaving Hermione's side.
It felt like he had been waiting days for her to wake up, and in that time, he had imagined the worst.
For one, he feared that she might not wake up at all, ever, and the empty hole that her screams had carved within him would be there for the rest of his life, like a scar across his heart.
Two, that she might wake up but never be the same, just like Neville's parents. Maybe she wouldn't remember him. Maybe she would, but she wouldn't understand when he told her he loved her.
And three, that she'd awake with clarity, forever haunted by the memory of what happened to her. Maybe she'd associate her trauma with the magical world, or with Ron himself, and she'd leave it all behind. He'd support her, of course, and he'd be thrilled she was okay, but he wouldn't be okay. He wasn't okay.
So he sat there, looking peaceful but panicking internally. He had no idea what to expect when and if Hermione woke up.
He was utterly shocked when she spoke to him.
"Hi, Ron," her voice snapped his eyes open. She was watching him, even smiling at him. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming.
She chuckled when he pinched himself.
"Oh, thank Merlin you're awake," he said when his pinch did nothing.
"Did you sleep here?"
"Yeah. I hope that's okay," he said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
"Have you left my side?" she asked, her eyes wide, questioning yet knowing.
He shook his head no, and his cheeks grew hot.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He smiled at her, and she smiled back. There was something so innocent about the interaction; it felt like they were just kids nervously admitting a crush. Her hand was lying on the edge of the bed, inches from his, and he didn't hesitate to reach for it and intertwine their fingers. She squeezed his hand back, although weakly, and he ran his thumb across her skin. Even bloodied and scarred, her skin was as soft as he remembered.
"I'm so glad you're okay," he said.
"Me too."
"Are you in pain?"
She nodded. "A little."
"I can have Fleur bring up some pain potion."
"Yeah, but not yet."
"In a bit, then."
They shared a look, an acknowledgement that they were alone, and pain potion could wait. Neither felt the need to give it words, they were awful with words, the king and queen of miscommunication, but there was nothing to misinterpret in a simple look.
"Can I hug you? Gently, of course."
Hermione nodded, and Ron inched forward on his chair to wrap his arms around her. Her head nestled into his shoulder, and he buried his face in her hair.
"How's Harry?" she asked, her voice muffled by his shoulder.
"He's fine," Ron answered. "Worried about you, of course."
She nodded. "And you?"
"What about me?"
"Are you okay?"
Ron sighed and pulled her closer. Was he okay? He had a few cuts and bruises, but that was nothing compared to his emotional toll. He helplessly listened to Bellatrix torture the woman he loved, hadn't slept since they arrived at Shell Cottage, and had spent days fearing she'd be gone. In those days, he learned exactly how much was at stake. He could still lose her.
He wasn't okay.
"Yes, I'm okay," he muttered, hoping that it would be true soon enough.
-After The Battle-
The Treehouse
Ron didn't mind the quiet of the treehouse; it was much better than the silence of the Burrow. At least the treehouse was supposed to be that way. He was leaning over the edge, forearms on a wooden beam, and through the leaves, he could make out the tall, lopsided house he called home. Before now, the Burrow always looked like it was bursting at the seams, about to collapse from the energy inside. His mum would say it was magic that held it together, not carpentry, but now it didn't matter. It seemed empty, and the magic was gone.
The treehouse was where Ron would always come when he needed to be alone. With six siblings, there was always someone yelling, laughing or crying. But not with five. Even though there were so many people back in the house, it was still too quiet. No one knew what to say, so they said nothing. Fred wouldn't have wanted that.
"Hi."
Ron startled at the voice. He had been too lost in his thoughts to hear anyone approaching but instantly relaxed when Hermione stepped up beside him, shoulder to shoulder. He smiled; in the days following Fred's death, Hermione was the only one who could elicit that reaction from him.
"I brought you something," she said.
He looked down at her hand to see that she was holding a plate of food — Mum's shepherd's pie, treacle tart, and pumpkin juice.
"Thank you, Hermione," he said as she handed him the plate. "I didn't want to go inside and talk to people."
"I know."
Ron turned away from the edge and slid to a seat, resting the plate on his lap. Hermione settled in beside him. "How'd you know where I was?"
She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I had a hunch."
Ron thought back to the last time they had been in the treehouse together — the previous summer before Harry arrived. He didn't even remember the first time he brought her here, but through all those summers, the treehouse became a place where they could just be. They could do whatever they wanted here, yet not once had she rested her head on his shoulder.
He looped his free arm around her, encouraging her to lean in, and pressed a kiss to her hair. He had always wanted to do that, and it was so strange to be able to now. If the circumstances were better, he'd like to do so much more.
"Will you stay?" he asked.
"As long as you need me to."
The longer they sat there in comfortable silence, leaning against one another and eating from the same plate, the more he wished they could just stay there forever. It was the perfect place to hide from his grief.
Maybe he shouldn't be hiding from grief, but the pain of Fred's loss only accentuated what he felt for Hermione. It was about time he had something to be happy about, even if that happiness was confined within the walls of the treehouse. After all, he had a feeling that the reality of Fred's death would hit him like a ton of bricks as soon as he left.
So maybe he'd just stay.
"What's on your mind?" asked Hermione.
She was on his mind but based on her smirk, she knew that. He must have been staring at her. That had been happening a lot lately.
"Do you really want to know?"
"Of course."
He'd never told her how he felt, but he was in the treehouse, where everything was perfect, and nothing could go wrong. Now was as good a time as any.
"I'm thinking about how much I love you."
She met his gaze and he watched those warm brown eyes grow wide. "Really?"
"Yes," he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't have to say it back, I know it's soon—"
"I love you too," she interrupted, leaning her head against his hand. "Always have."
Even though a world of mourning awaited Ron outside of the treehouse, he couldn't help but smile. Hermione could do that for him; she was just like the magic that once held his house together.
"Brilliant," he said as he leaned in for a kiss, one that she happily returned.
He loved that they could do this now.
It was an odd feeling, being so genuinely elated and grief-stricken at the same time, but he simply couldn't feel any other way; it was the truth. And at this point, if anyone deserved the truth, it was Hermione.
#chudleycanonficfest2021#HP fest#hp canon pairings#canon fest romantic#submission#romione#ron x hermione#tw: character death
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Jealousy. (3/3)
𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | I WORKED SO HARD ON THIS AND I RLLY LOVED HOW THE ENDING WENT BUT IF U WANT ME TO WRITE A LITTLE EXTRA OF WHAT HAPPENS AFTERWARDS JUST SPAM MY INBOX K THX ENJOY!!!!
𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Teen! Gojo x Gender Neutral Reader
𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2286
𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Cursing. ALL CHARACTERS HERE ARE AGED DOWN FROM PRESENT ANIME/MANGA INTO WHEN THEY WERE TEENAGERS.
𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Your plan with Geto finally unfolds, and Geto thinks with the information he has gathered, that it’s a perfect time for you to confess to Gojo. Shoko answers your suspicions about her and Gojo before Geto crashes the scene, telling you last second that he had set you up with Gojo for a confession, you had almost no time to prepare. Before you could even hold a proper scolding, Gojo arrives, it’s time to confess.
“Okay, here’s the plan.”
Geto slapped his hand onto the table, handing you a fizzy drink. You watched the bubbles rapidly float upwards. Inside, there’s various fruits, strawberries, kiwis, some lemons for added fanciness.
“(Y/N), the drink is not what we’re focusing on.” he snaps his fingers, you glance up, he’s shaking his head and smiling.
“Sorry, uh, I’m not good with serious conversations.” you twiddle with your thumbs, studying the table. Your fingers itch for your something to fidget with, the whole reason why you two met up was awkward anyways.
You had conspired with Geto to make Gojo jealous. Having already tried being subtle, you had eyed him across the room, flirted with him, and he still hadn’t realized. You had bought him free stuff whenever you went to the store, and once again, he never really realized. Geto did, though. He always raised his eyebrows when you handed Gojo a bag of kikufuku from his favorite shop, or if you got him a stupid cheap trinket from the night markets.
The point being, you were much more affection with Gojo then anyone else.
Even when you tried to conceal this jealousy, the cracking point was when you had found out that Gojo had gone out with Geto the night before and had sex with a few random girls.
You had chewed Geto and Gojo both out, while Gojo was yawning and tousling his hair, boredom evident in his face, Geto examined every single little thing about your body language. How your face seemed to drop a little more when you talked about Gojo, and how you seemed so self conscious when you talked about the girls that he had had fun with.
He had approached you, with no time for small talk. His arms crossed, he blew a strand of hair away from his face, looking at you. He had oh so casually asked you if you had a thing for Satoru, and here you were now. Just short of having a heart attack from sheer panic.
“Hey. Don’t be scared.” placing one of his hands on your shoulder, he smiles. “I know Gojo, did I ever tell you how we compared dick sizes once? Wild, I’ve also had a few foursomes-”
You retch, and Geto snickers.
“Moving on, that guy gets jealous EASILY. He’s also as dumb as a rock, probably can’t define the word love.” he looks down, the easygoing expression on his face wiped off, replaced with a rather saddened one, “but I guess he hasn’t experienced the feeling a lot.”
He looks back up at you, brushing his bangs behind his ear. “This brings me to Operation: Make Gojo Jealous Because That’s The Only Way I Know How To Get Him To Realize If He Likes You or Not!”
He leans over the table, looking left and right before leaning into your ear. “What do we say if Gojo doesn’t like you back?”
Your stomach twists as the words, “Gojo doesn’t like you back.” echoed in your mind, you sigh.
“That’s okay Gojo, and whatever your opinion is, I will respect.”
“Perfect, if you have any objections, tell me now.”
A deafening silence settles between you two, he chuckles again.
“Also, Shoko’s smart as shit. She can probably catch on, or maybe she already knows that you have a crush on him. Maybe she’ll play into this, fair warning. Alright, ready? Listen close.”
He stops leaning over the table, sitting back down normally.
“We start spending a lot more time with each other, as in, we spend more than half of our day with one another.” you open your mouth to complain, as Geto would be sure to annoy you knowing that you had to spend half the fucking day with you, but he shushes you up with his finger.
“I’m a good stalker, so I’ll be watching Gojo. If he doesn’t have a crush on you, he’ll be just fine. Albeit, just a bit lonelier, because his best bud is ditching him for you, maybe talk to Shoko or some shit. If he DOES in fact have a crush on you, he’ll watch our every move. He doesn’t hide his anger very well, so I’ll be able to tell.”
“You’re a good WHAT?”
“Shut up, and I have everything planned out. We’ll probably have a celebration at this park after we get back from wiping out all the curses from this village, and by then I’ll have enough information to see if that’s a good day to confess to him. Understand?”
You nod, shocked that he had literally planned this all out. He gets up, nodding at you and waving, giving you a playful wink before leaving the room.
—
Here you were now, sitting on the picnic blanket. Shoko digs her hand into her pocket, pulling out a few cigarettes.
You eye them as she whips out a lighter, delicately placing the cigarette into her mouth and lighting it. Taking in a deep breath, you watch her exhale, a hazy cloud of gray swirled around into the air.
You never took Shoko as a person to smoke, but your gut wrenches. Does Gojo like smokers? He seemed interested in Shoko, and maybe Shoko was trying to confess with him before you and Geto had crashed the party.
Nervously shoving the marble in your ramune down, you stutter, Shoko glanced up. Her lukewarm eyes stared into yours.
“Have a question, honey?” her cigarette between her pointer and index, she coughs before placing it back into her mouth.
“Uh, yeah. A-actually.”
A pleasantly surprised face covered her calm expression, looking at you with curiosity, she nods, telling you to continue.
“...Do you have a crush on Gojo?”
She looks at you, bewildered, before pulling the cigarette out of her mouth. Chortling turning into coughing, she spits into the grass.
“Oh NO honey, I can’t even picture dating a guy, actually, especially not that monkey. What made you think that?”
Waves of relief rushed over your body, and you realize how stiffly you were sitting up. Relaxing your shoulders, you take a swig out of your ramune.
“Uh, I-I don’t know. I saw you two u-uh... Really close...”
Shoko smiles, her eyes crinkle at the side as she did. Scoffing a little, she places the cigarette back between her lips, taking a deep inhale before exhaling.
“We were talking about shit, no bother, oh hey, Geto’s back.”
You stare at where she’s pointing, Geto’s hands were shoved deep into his pockets. He had a toothy grin on his face, and strands of hair strayed from his bun as the wind whipped against him.
“(Y/N)! I have news~!” he screams, approaching the picnic with long strides.
Your heart jumps out of your chest, did he talk for you instead, and got Gojo to confess?
“I set you and Gojo up!” he sang, sitting down with a heavy thud and digging his hand into the picnic basket, sticking his tongue out as he searched for snacks. He looks at you sadistically, thoroughly enjoying the shocked expression on your face.
“WHAT?”
Shoko snickers a little, before changing it into a cough as you glare at her.
“Yep, he’s coming back now, so you better prepare!” yanking out a snack, he peers down. “Fuck yeah! Dried squid!”
“ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING IGNORE HOW YOU JUST SET UP MY CONFESSION WITH GOJO SO CASUALLY?”
He looks up at you, sharing a look with Shoko before both burst into laughter.
“(Y/N) being angry is a fucking knee slapper, isn’t it Shoko?”
‘Who the fuck uses the phrase knee slapper, Geto?”
Ignoring Shoko’s sarcastic comment, Geto stared up at your figure. “Anyways, go for it sweetheart.” Geto calmly responds, Shoko still laughing.
You splutter, cursing Geto under your breath and everyone under his family tree for raising such a child.
“Aw hey now (Y/N), no cursing me! I know you’re doing it, and hey look, here he comes! Shoo lovebirds!” he waves his hand. Shoko, in an attempt to calm down, pulled her knee into her chest and giggled into her arms.
You match your line of sight with his, Gojo’s lanky build was quickly approaching. Instead of his usually scowling face, he seemed more relaxed.
“Yo.” he scratched the back of his neck as he walked up to the group, studying the grass. “Sorry for blowing up.”
Geto stood up, patting Gojo’s back. “There there, truthfully no one gives a fuck! Actually, I don’t know if you remember but (Y/N) over here requested your audience, bye bye now!” shoving Gojo in your direction, he stumbled a little, before scrambling and placing his hands on your shoulder.
‘Sorry.” he murmured, a light blush crept up to his cheeks. “had to try to grab onto something or else I fall flat on my face.”
You found your cheeks also getting warm, you touched your skin, thankful that he was looking in another direction.
“Yeah. No problem.”
“Fuck off, you two! Flirt somewhere else!” hollered Geto.
“OKAY, HOLY SHIT!” hollered Gojo back, rolling his eyes before he looked down at you.
“Geto told me you wanted to talk to me about something.”
Your breath hitched, and you nodded nervously, he cleared his throat, arm snaking around your waist.
Shocked by the sudden realization that he had his arm wrapped around your fucking waist, your heart was now pounding out of your chest, eyes wide.
“The plot thickens.” Shoko lazily laid her head down on Geto’s shoulder, he grinned.
“That’s my fucking child right there.”
—
Gojo walked with you on a long, narrow path. Trees as a sort of canopy hung over your head, rustling with the wind. No people in sight.
He cleared his throat again, looking down at you.
“Uh, here looks really nice. Pretty peaceful, and there’s seating.” he gestured to a bench with his unoccupied hand.
You nod as he pulled you a bit closer into him, before letting go.
A whine almost leapt out of your throat before he slammed your hands over your mouth, for all you knew he wasn’t going to ask you out, and rather ask you directions to the nearest bathroom or some shit.
“Hey, sit down.”
Snapping out of your daze, you nodded, sitting down and staring at the opposite direction of wherever he faced.
You wished you had the courage to stare at his face, to look at his sunglasses while he ruffled his snow white locks. His defined collarbones, and his chiseled jawline and...
“So! What did you wanna talk about, (Y/N)?” you whipped your head to stare at him, jumping a little as you did so.
“Um.” FUCK, what were you supposed to say?
“...Lovely weather we’re having?”
Gojo scoffed, leaning towards you. He really did know how to work a person. Breathing heavier then you were when he pulled you closer to him, you looked at him, anticipating whatever he would say.
“I know that’s... Not what you were asking to talk to me for. Let me guess, you have a crush on Geto and you want to ask me how to get him to like you?”
‘What! No!” you responded exasperatedly, hiding your face with your hands.
“I... Don’t have a thing for Geto!”
“What was that?” Gojo paused, before pulling at your sleeve. “Hey, I couldn’t hear you.” joking teasingly, he fixed his askew sunglasses.
“I DON’T HAVE A THING FOR GETO!”
He jumped back, rubbing his temples and sighing before chuckling.
“You didn’t have to be that fucking loud! Holy shit that hurt my ears.” rubbing them, he looked at you with a laugh.
You noted that his friendly behavior was back in business, as opposed to the serious one he had adopted as soon as you started hanging out with Geto.
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed as his laughter died out, both of you silent.
“Then... Who do you have a thing for?” Gojo whispered breathily, crossing his legs.
You opened your mouth, about to respond with every bit of power that you had left inside of your already frazzled body that he was the one that you had a thing for, and the one you had a thing for for multiple fucking months. You closed it before you could, taking a deep breath in.
“Hey.” leaning closer into your face, you swore you could count every hair strand that he had. He breathed heavily as well, and his chest heaved, he placed a hand onto your shoulder.
“It’s okay, you can tell me.”
You shook your head, looking away once again.
He cursed to himself, was he too straight forward? Or were you that stupid, did he have to confess himself?
No, he didn’t want to damage his pride. He wanted you to confess, to tell him how much you loved him, and the things you wanted to do together.
But what if you were going to tell him that you had a thing for Shoko or some shit?
“Come on, (Y/N), I won’t judge you.”
‘No!” you shook your head furiously again, “you’re going to judge me!”
“I wont, come on, spill!”
You bit your lip, twisting yourself to look at him, tears dawning on your eyes. Diving headfirst into his chest, you whined. Fuck it all.
“I like you, Gojo.”
“...What?” he wrapped his arms around your head, looking down at you sniffling on his t-shirt.
“I like you, I like you, I like you DAMN IT!” you whined, banging your fists against his chest weakly.
“Woah, hey there little baby.” he pushed your head gently off of him, kissing your red, sweating forehead gently.
“I like you too, (Y/N).
#teenage gojo satoru#gojo satoru#jjk gojo satoru#jjk fanfic#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo#gojou#jujutsu kaisen#jjk gojo#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk geto suguru#geto suguru#jjk shoko ieiri#shoko ieiri#ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED DOWN TO SECOND YEAR#my characterization of geto and shoko? nonexistent#hehehe this is cute
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wrong house, right time
[joaquin torres x reader]
summary: Sometimes, life just sucks and nothing can be done. But when one (1) Joaquin Torres shows up to fix for air conditioner, your week gets just a little better.
word count: 2,262
a/n: I wasn't going to post this publicly, but @anna-phora told me to do it, so I'm accidentally stepping into MCU fic. Which like... was the eventual plan if I'm being honest. but this was written specifically for her because I'm a great friend. (edited so it's not including her name, lol)
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There are some weeks that are worse than others. You know this. You have accepted this It’s par for the course in life. But really – couldn’t Teacher Appreciation Week be better than the other weeks? It doesn’t even have to be by a lot. You’d take a smidge at this point. Hell, you’d take just about anything. You rested your head against the cool wood of your kitchen cabinet and sighed. On the counter, your phone chimed, signaling a text. A moment later, it chimed again.
“Better be something good,” you mumbled. You fumbled for it blindly, refusing to look for it. This week was exhausting. You weren’t going to move more than you had to for the next two days. After a few seconds, your fingertips bumped up against the edge. Unlocking it without looking, you finally cracked an eye open, pulling away from the cabinet just enough to catch a glimpse of your screen.
A second later, two more texts popped onto the screen.
You let out a snort of laughter as you read the messages. You’d almost forgot. One of your neighbors had recommended him, saying that a friend of a friend was pretty handy with fixing things, and would probably do it for a small fee. You’d hesitated at first, but thinking about how much money a handyman would be had swayed you over.
Glancing down at your dog, Darcy, you hummed softly. “If you’re extra nice, maybe he won’t charge us.”
You ran a hand over your face as you headed through the kitchen and to the front door. You hadn’t heard any knocking, so you assumed he was right in that he was at the wrong house. Opening up the door, you peered through the screen. It took a few seconds, but you spotted a guy slowly wandering down the sidewalk, eyes glued to his phone with a toolbox in his free hand. Every few seconds he would glance up, frown, and then look back to his phone. You figured that it was him, but you didn’t say anything. It was the safe thing to do, to not yell at random men from your house.
And besides, he was cute.
Your gaze slipped over him as he walked. Short hair, strong shoulders. Despite the distance, you could tell that he was handsome. A few more steps and he was one house down. Finally, you decided to put him out of his misery.
His head jerked up as he looked around, his gaze eventually settling on you. You quirked a brow at him and he held up his phone in question. You nodded, motioning for him to come inside. A grin stretched across his lips and something in your chest twisted.
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh no, he was really cute.
Very cute.
Handsome.
Shit.
You swallowed and mustered up a grin as he started up the steps. Darcy started barking, excited at the prospect of meeting literally anyone. You unlocked the screen door and took a few steps back, hooking your fingers through her collar to make sure she didn’t take a running leap at him.
“It’s open,” you called as he reached the door. Darcy barked, tugging forward in Joaquin’s direction. “Sorry about her, she’s just really friendly.”
Joaquin was already kneeling down, setting his toolbox down beside him. “It’s fine, I love dogs. You can let her go.” He paused. “If that’s okay?”
You shrug as you let her go. Darcy shot forward, leaping towards him with an excited bark. She was all over him, unable to decide whether jumping or nuzzling was the way to go. You straightened up, your heart already doing triple time at the sight.
“So,” he started, taking his eyes off of Darcy for a second to look up at you. “Your AC is acting up?”
You nodded. “I have no clue what’s going on with it, but it won’t work. Thank you so much for coming to check it out.”
“Oh, no problem at all,” he said, rubbing Darcy’s ears. Her tail wagged furiously. “Especially for a pretty girl.” Red crept up from his neck to his ears, flushing his face in a way that made him even more attractive. He ducked his head, bashful, as he focused solely on Darcy. “So what’s her name?” The sentence came out fast, like one long word.
“Oh, um, it’s Darcy.” Words were hard to form when the phrase ‘pretty girl’ was echoing around your brain.
“Like the author?” He lifted his head as he asked, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I had to read a lot of her stuff in high school. Pride and Prejudice was always my favorite.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “You read a lot?”
You shrugged. “Well, I am a high school English teacher.”
Joaquin laughed and nodded his head. “So you read a hell of a lot, then?” His grin settled more into a smile as he -- somewhat unsubtly -- looked you up and down. A beat of silence, and then: “So, you wanna show me the unit?” He grabbed his toolbox and stood up, arching his back a little as he tried to stretch it out from being crouched down.
“Sure,” you said as you started up the stairs. It was quiet as the two of you walked.
“So when did it stop working?” Joaquin asked, breaking the silence.
“The other day. It just started to sputter a little bit and then quit after a few seconds.” You opened up the door and motioned him inside. The AC was still in the window, still mocking you as it sat in the hot, unmoving air.
“And it hasn’t started up since?”
“Nope. I’ve been dying of heatstroke since Wednesday.”
“Makes sense,” he said as he began to shrug off his jacket. The black t-shirt underneath fit him well.
A little too well, if you were being honest.
He stepped over to the unit and began to lift the window up, as though he were planning to get it out by himself when it was clearly a two-person job.
“You need help?” You asked, already moving towards him.
“I’ve got it, I’m strong,” he said, waving you away. You went to argue with him, but he was already wrapping his arms around the thing. With his attention focused on lifting the unit out of the window, you were free to watch as his muscles strained. What was a two-person job for you was easily a one-person job for him. He took his time in setting it on the ground, guiding it down gently. He pressed his lips together as he sat down on the ground and reached for his toolbox. He looked up to where you were still standing.
“Oh, did you want me to -- I can head downstairs? So I don’t bother you?” You took a step back, but paused as he shrugged.
“Or you could stay up here. I wouldn’t mind the company.”
Your stomach flipped. You stepped inside and took a seat on the ground a few feet away from him, making it a little harder for Darcy to investigate what he was doing. That was it. You were there to keep Darcy away. But as you sat there, you realized that you had no clue what to talk about? What was he into?
It was quiet for a few seconds before he asked what your favorite movie was. And suddenly, the two of you were off. Time passed quickly as you spoke, moving from favorite movies to books to exchanging family stories. You learned that he was in the military, and traveled often. You’d asked what he did, and he just shrugged his shoulders, looking from the AC unit to you, and smirked.
“Stuff.”
“Like top-secret stuff?”
“Oh yeah,” he’d said, holding the smirk for another second before laughing. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed.
You liked it.
Despite it feeling as though no time at all had passed, he announced the culprit -- a bad wire -- and it seemed like once he’d figured it out, he was done. But when you glanced at the time on your phone, your eyes widened. Two hours had gone by.
You shifted your gaze over to the window as Joaquin straightened up and tried out the AC unit. It worked like a charm. He nodded and gave the unit a little pat, as though silently congratulating it for working once more.
“So how much do I owe you?” You asked as he turned to face you.
“Nothing, that was easy.”
“That was two hours, I have to give you something.”
He shook his head. “Your company was enough.”
“Come on, let me--”
“Y/N,” he said, taking a step forward. “Your company was worth it, I’m not accepting your money.” He pressed his lips together, looking as though he wanted to say something more when his phone went off. He glanced down at it and sighed. “One sec?” He asked, already swiping to answer the call. “Hey Mom, yeah I -- yeah. Yeah, yes. I can pick that up. You want me to snag one for Grandma, too? No, I just finished fixing up the AC, I -- She’s -- Mom.” You couldn’t tell what was being said, but his cheeks were starting to flush. You could hear laughter on the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in a bit.”
You raised a brow. “Your mom?”
“Yeah, she wants me to stop by the store on my way to visit her.” He glanced from you to Darcy and sighed. “I should probably be on my way out.”
Disappointment made itself at home in your chest. “Right, yeah,” you said, heading towards the door. The two of you made your way down the stairs, Darcy following happily behind. When you reached the first floor, you went to lean against the couch. Joaquin had his hands in his jacket pockets as he made it a few steps after you. He stood there, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.
“Thank you, seriously. I cannot thank you enough for fixing that,” you said.
He shook his head and grinned softly. “It was no problem, Y/N.” He took a few steps towards the door before turning back to look at you. “I’ll see you around?”
You returned his grin with one of your own. “You’ve got my number.”
His grin grew even wider before he turned and headed out the door. Darcy trotted over to the door after it closed, her eyes tracking his every move as he headed towards the sidewalk. You watched for another second before calling Darcy away from the door. A minute and one treat later, the two of you were cuddled up on the couch. Idly, you switched tabs from Facebook to Tumblr, trying your hardest to avoid thinking about the last couple of hours before you heard your phone go off. Thumbing into your messages, your face instantly lit up.
________________________________________________
Two months later, you found yourself walking towards a small, hole-in-the-wall bar tucked into a sidestreet. Joaquin’s hand on the small of your back as you walked, you trying not to laugh as he gave you what felt like a rundown before one of his missions.
“Just… ignore them if they try to embarrass me, okay? I’m much cooler than whatever they say.”
You laughed. “Are you, though? Are you really?”
“Hey,” he said, giving you an indignant look as he held the door open for you. You stepped inside, taking note of how warm it was inside. People crowded around tables, the low hum of voices occasionally getting louder when the television in the corner showed someone making a basket. Joaquin tapped your shoulder, nodding to the right. “I am very cool, I’ll have you know. Just last week, I –”
“Hey, Torres!” A voice called from a back booth. Joaquin sighed as he stepped in front of you and lead you towards the booth. “Weren’t you the one to say, ‘be there at seven and don’t be late, I really like this girl?’ And you’re what, thirty minutes late?”
“Thirty-two minutes late, by my count,” another voice chimes in as the two of you get closer. You’re already grinning as you note how Joaquin ducked his head.
You lean forward, just close enough so he’ll be able to hear you. “You really like this girl, huh?”
It was difficult to hear his response with his back turned to you, but you watched as his shoulders slumped and caught what sounded like a “not you too.” You tilted your head back and laughed, bright and airy, as you approached the table. Your eyes settled on the two men crowded into the booth, your laugh cutting off as recognition settled in.
He hadn’t said that they were these friends.
“Y/N, we’ve heard a lot about you. Like a lot about you.”
He’d only ever talked about work in the abstract, which made sense. It wasn’t like he could go on, telling you all the details about whatever mission he was on. But he’d spoken of coworkers and even one that had become a friend. But he’d never mentioned names, or the context of things, or…
“Honestly, the kid doesn’t shut up about you.”
Or the fact that they were literal Avengers.
Joaquin groaned. “Can you two—”
Sam Wilson settled back into his seat and grinned as he motioned for you to sit down. “I’m Sam, this is Bucky. It’s good to finally meet you.”
#joaquin torres x reader#joaquin torres fanfic#joaquin torres x you#mcu x reader#joaquin torres#tfatws
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Who the hell is CM Punk and why is he “All Elite”?
If you’re reading this post, you’re most likely somebody who’s heard the latest buzz around the wrestling world: CM Punk is back! But who exactly is CM Punk? You’ve probably heard the name before, either in the context of pro wrestling or as part of his time in UFC, and have always wondered what the big deal is about the guy. You’ve also probably seen or heard about All Elite Wrestling, up-and-coming wrestling promotion airing live Wednesday and Friday nights on TNT. But what exactly is AEW as well? That’s where this post comes in. In this long-ass post on Tumblr, you’ll be given a crash course on the history of one of pro wrestling’s most iconic superstars as well as the abridged history of AEW, the premier wrestling promotion in North America, allowing you to (hopefully) understand the significance of Punk’s return to the squared circle as well as give yourself significant knowledge of AEW enough that you can begin to enjoy the weekly shows they put out!
Okay, so who the heck is this CM Punk guy anyway?
To put it simply, CM Punk is one of the most significant pro wrestlers of the 21st century as well as the history of the industry itself. While he’s not on the level of mainstream recognition as Hulk Hogan or Stone Cold Steve Austin, Punk’s contributions to pro wrestling are arguably as important to the industry. To understand Punk’s significance, you need to have a little history lesson about the industry in the early-to-mid 2000′s.
When you think of professional wrestling, you probably think of one name above all: WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment. WWE was, and still is, the most mainstream wrestling promotion ever. People associate all wrestling with WWE, no matter what. But what about what’s below WWE in terms of recognition? The Minor League Baseball to its MLB? To that, we have to look at the independent scene.
The independent scene is, simply put, the underground punk rock of pro wrestling. It’s where the stars make the names for themselves to rise to the success. Indie wrestling is important because it’s where Punk began. CM (the initials jokingly standing for whatever is on his mind at the moment, ranging from “Cookie Monster” to “Charles Montgomery” or “Chicago Made”) Punk began his career in the independent scene around the turn of the millennium. He rose to significant prominence in the promotion Ring of Honor, one of the most premiere indie leagues in the United States. This prominence was brought on by Punk’s oozing charisma and wrestling talent, making him one of the best known “underground wrestlers” at the time. Then, in 2005, Punk signed a contract with the major league: he was WWE bound.
To regale you with Punk’s career in WWE would require an entirely separate post, so I’ll spare you the specifics and get to the good stuff: Punk was over in WWE. “Over” of course meaning the fans loved him. And why shouldn’t they? Big time wrestling fans knew Punk from his days in ROH and to see him rise to be on national television broadcasts and pay-per-view was rewarding. To those who were introduced to him, he was a fantastic talent and provided immense entertainment because of his talent in the ring and outside it.
Later on in his career at WWE, Punk provided one of the most scathing promos of all time, criticizing the company for its horrific decision-making and idiotic management. The promo was a “worked shoot”, wrestling lingo for a promo that seems like it’s breaking character but is all planned out (Punk was allowed to say anything he wanted, no matter if it was in character or not) but it was still extremely satisfying for the fans who agreed wholeheartedly with Punk about the state of WWE at the time. This promo (now known as the “pipebomb promo”) is just one of the many reasons why CM Punk has remained an immense fan favorite. The idea of a wrestler taking the mic, airing their grievances, and showcasing how a major corporation treated their employees with disdain and damnation is utterly unlike anything seen since Stone Cold Steve Austin back in the late 90′s. Punk, to many people, was one of the first of many “indie stars” that WWE had “poached” from the independent scene, turning them into corporate icons, stripping away their unique qualities as a person and transforming them into recognizable brands to sell merchandise with. To see Punk spit back at the WWE made a lot of people realize that enough was enough for them. Punk was the voice of the voiceless, a wrestler echoing throughout the halls that he wasn’t just a brand to slap onto a cheap mass-produced product, that he was a wrestler (in the mid-2000s at WWE, the term “wrestler” was seen as an irrelevant term, the terms “sports entertainer” and “superstar” preferred by management) in this business to prove himself as the Best in the World. And like clockwork, on July 15th, 2014, Punk was removed from WWE’s active roster after he had effectively walked out of the company weeks prior.
One of the most significant events post-WWE with Punk was his appearance on close friend Colt Cabana’s Art of Wrestling podcast. Colt’s podcast was known for featuring “shoot interviews”, basically interviews with wrestlers out of character detailing backstage information and telling stories. Punk’s episode of the podcast is significant as it eventually led to a total legal dispute with one of WWE’s doctors whose misdiagnosis of a staph infection was one of the reasons for Punk’s departure from WWE. Along with that, Punk’s general dissatisfaction with the “WWE Machine” as it’s been coined was another reason, with him even mentioning at times post-retirement that WWE was responsible for him never wanting to wrestle again. And so it seemed, as Punk later on signed with UFC in an attempt to get a MMA career off the ground, that the legacy of CM Punk ended with his tenure at WWE.
Until, that is, the wrestling world got a little...elite...
Okay, so I get who CM Punk is now, but what’s this All Elite Wrestling business?
AEW, All Elite Wrestling and the sole reason you’re reading this post right now, is the second biggest wrestling promotion in North America and quite possibly the world. Its inception begins with a group of wrestlers signed to the aforementioned Ring of Honor and a little bet made with wrestling journalist Dave Meltzer on Twitter.
Meltzer had proclaimed on Twitter that ROH did not have the capability to sell 10,000 tickets to an arena-run wrestling event. ROH-signed wrestlers Cody Rhodes (son of Dusty Rhodes and brother of Dustin Rhodes f.k.a. “Goldust”) and tag team brothers Matt and Nick Jackson (known as “The Young Bucks”) took Meltzer up on the bet and immediately scouted an arena for such an event. Partnering with Ring of Honor along with other wrestling promotions around the world such as Lucha Libre AAA Worldwide, Impact Wrestling, and New Japan Pro Wrestling, the trio promoted the event as All In and managed to sell out the arena in less than 30 minutes, even exceeding the goal by an extra thousand or so, becoming the largest attended wrestling event not held by industry leader WWE since 1993.
Naturally, the success of such an event caught the attention of many leaders in many industries. The idea that an independent wrestling event could create such a huge success in a time where WWE was kingpin of the industry was unprecedented. It was clear that the wrestling world was ready for a change and the numbers didn’t lie.
On the 1st of January 2019, All Elite Wrestling was announced with the running of All In’s sequel event Double or Nothing which would also be the inaugural pay-per-view event for AEW itself. Backing the company financially was Jacksonville Jaguars owner Shahid Khan along with his son and co-owner of the Jaguars Tony Khan, who would lead the company as president, CEO and head of creative. The announcement of the company was peppered with signings of some of independent wrestling’s hottest stars such as “Hangman” Adam Page, Joey Janela, Britt Baker, and Kenny Omega, often cited as the greatest wrestler in the world with multiple 5 star+ matches under his belt. Also announced were some of the most interesting inclusions: former WWE stars Chris Jericho and PAC (f.k.a. Neville) had joined as well. At the premiere event of Double Or Nothing, the most shocking addition to the roster made his debut as well: Jon Moxley, formerly known in WWE as Dean Ambrose, one of the highest-profile stars in recent history had jumped ship from top of the card in WWE to the newest promotion. Ripples in the wrestling world had turned into immense shock waves.
Alright, I kinda know the history now but why is AEW so important?
AEW’s significance today cannot be understated. Before its inception, the world of professional wrestling consisted of two pillars: WWE and the independent scene, and the two could not be less equal. WWE was seen by many as the top of the line, the area where a wrestler could be seen by the most eyes and where they could be paid top dollar moreso than any indie promotion. But it was also seen, as detailed earlier by CM Punk, as a place of dull, corporatized profiteering. WWE does not treat its wrestlers as characters in engaging, eventful stories. To the WWE, the wrestlers are no more than brands, recognizable faces and repetitive phrases that they can slap onto t-shirts and other merchandise to sell for a quick buck. WWE as a company does not care about the world of professional wrestling, even recently going so far as to call themselves not a “wrestling company” but an “entertainment” company. Wrestlers in WWE are not given the opportunity to come up with material they think will best suit the story of the match and appease the fans, they are given pre-written scripts of dialogue to act out as if they were in a movie and storylines meant to tell the story the writers want to tell rather than what the fans want to see.
For many wrestlers, the art of wrestling is a finely tuned craft. WWE’s corporate micromanagement of the whole process is utterly disrespectful and soul-crushing. At AEW, the story is different.
AEW’s creative team allows its wrestlers to do whatever they think the fans will like. While not necessarily allowing the wrestlers full creative control (Tony Khan, after all, has the final say on things), AEW at least allows the wrestlers flexibility to try new things without being railroaded by storylines. This results in characters like Orange Cassidy (see above) a wrestler whose entire gimmick is that he just doesn’t care. In his matches, he’ll lazily loaf about the ring, putting in the bare minimum effort at attacking his opponents except when the opponents REALLY strike back at which Cassidy explodes into an array of athletic fury while simultaneously never losing his cool. And it works! The gimmick worked insanely well on the independent scene, away from the strict guidelines of a major corporation who probably would not understand it, and fans adored Cassidy’s laidback, lazy attitude. And in AEW, Cassidy’s gimmick transfers flawlessly due to the company’s trust in Cassidy to make it work. And so, AEW remains a place where wrestlers can succeed not at the whims of an out-of-touch old man playing with his action figures in a way that satisfies only himself, but at the whims of creative people who believe in the equally creative minds out in the squared circle who themselves believe in the hearts of the audience, understanding full well what it is they want to see when they come to or tune into a wrestling program.
There are a multitude of other reasons AEW is probably the best wrestling promotion on the planet (ease of access, LGBT diversity among the roster) but the creative freedom it allows its wrestlers remains one of the greatest.
Okay, now I kinda get the appeal. So where does CM Punk tie into this?
As with any new promotion heavily allowing for greater creative opportunity for its wrestlers, fans are gonna want to see their big favorites join the roster. Names like Daniel Bryan, Aleister Black, Adam Cole etc. known from their time on both the independent scene and at WWE have been tossed around a lot during discussions in the past as far as who should jump ship to the promotion that will best suit them. But one person has always been the biggest “what-if” when it comes to joining AEW: CM Punk. As laid out earlier, CM Punk’s dissatisfaction with WWE was wholly responsible for his greater retirement from the pro wrestling scene. And when there’s only one really significant promotion on the market, why bother? Punk has been vocal in the past on Twitter, in interviews and many other places that his love for the business of pro wrestling was soured and that something truly significant would be required for him to return. It seemed natural to fans that, should AEW prove to be a significant competitor to WWE that, somehow, some way, it could lead to the in-ring return of one of the best to ever step foot in it. And when AEW announced it would be running the second episode of its brand-new show Rampage at the United Center in Chicago, Punk’s hometown, the rumors began to fly.
Punk himself is known for joking about and debunking rumors, hearsay and other lies about his potential signing with any wrestling-related outlets. So when the rumors began to fly that Punk was signing with AEW...the man himself stayed uncharacteristically quiet. And the wrestling world began to gasp...was it true, then? Teasers were thrown about here and there on AEW programming, small things that could go either way but to hardcore fans seemed to understand were plain as day. Punk himself even got in on the action, posting cryptic videos on his Instagram that fans eventually linked to the United Center and a return for the Best in the World. It’s been known as wrestling’s “worst-kept secret” and today, it was revealed in all its glory.
CM Punk, one of the original independent wrestling superstars, one of the few men responsible for changing the culture of professional wrestling in the 21st century, had finally returned home.
Okay, that was pretty explanatory. So now, where the heck can I watch all this?
Excellent question! AEW currently has three methods of airing content:
- Through their network TV shows aired on TNT
- Through their YouTube channel
- Through pay-per-view events
AEW Dynamite is the company’s flagship show airing Wednesdays at 8:00 EST/7:00 CST on TNT. All the company’s major storylines are told on Dynamite and the show usually runs for ~2 hours. There are over 90+ episodes of Dynamite and its not really required that you see every single one though there are many episodes that have aired in the past that feature matches, promos, and other segments worth checking out.
AEW Rampage is the company’s second show and currently only has two episodes aired. It also airs on TNT, Fridays at 10:00 EST/9:00 CST. Rampage has been given the description of being a little more “action-packed” than Dynamite, with shows only lasting for a single hour and featuring little promo time instead focusing primarily on matches themselves.
The company’s biggest stories tend to culminate in one of its four annual pay-per-view events. AEW pay-per-views are available via WarnerMedia's B/R Live service in the United States and Canada, and on FITE TV internationally. Additionally, AEW PPVs are also available via traditional PPV outlets in the United States and Canada and are carried by all major satellite providers. AEW PPVs generally cost around $50-60 and run for about four hours or so.
In addition to the two TNT shows and pay-per-views, AEW also runs two weekly shows on its YouTube channel, AEW: Dark and AEW: Dark Elevation. Both shows are generally referred to as AEW’s “developmental” shows, created mostly for unsigned or up-and-coming talent to showcase themselves in a taped format that forgoes the traditional network TV deals for easier access online. Dark and Dark Elevation’s differences are negligible but both tend not to crossover too much with the main shows, although some stories definitely do. Both shows run for ~an hour and a half on Monday nights at 7:00 EST/6:00 CST (Dark Elevation) and Tuesdays at 7 EST/6 CST (Dark).
AEW talent also provide a few extra sources of entertainment through their own YouTube outlets as well. The Elite, a popular stable in AEW consisting of current champion Kenny Omega and current tag team champions the Young Bucks, feature themselves in their own weekly travel vlog/comedy sketch series Being the Elite while other individual wrestlers like Sammy Guevara, Allie “The Bunny”, and Ethan Page provide more individualized backstage looks at the company through their own vlogs. These aren’t necessary to enjoy regular AEW programming but they definitely add to the atmosphere and you can tell through each how much the locker room loves and respects each other.
Wow, this was really in-depth and definitely not a small task at all. Thanks for the help!
No problem! If you have any questions, feel free to send me a message, though its doubtful I’ll receive it since I barely check Tumblr anymore! If you know me on any other platforms, the message still applies!
Thanks so much for reading! I really do hope this helped you understand the situation a little better. Enjoy wrestling!
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Not sure if you still want to write for old prompts but if so; May I request Rodimus, Brainstorm, and a bot of your choice for the kidnapped s/o defending their bot and giving the kidnapper a tongue lashing? Your writing is so good it seriously brightens my day reading through it all! :D
I never tire of my prompts, lovely anon! Thanks a million and here's the good boys! I couldn't think of anyone I wanted to do for the third bot but I poured my heart and soul into these two, I hope you like them!
Rodimus
·Your panic had never really gone beyond some light anxiety about when you'd get to eat next, but you credited that to the rescue party you knew was coming. Rodimus had bested bad guys far more competent than this loser, so you had few worries about getting out. Truthfully your greatest concern was how unfathomably annoying your captor was proving to be. Between their grandiose personality and their constant taunting over the communication line, you feel as if you're going to go mad. Unfortunately, when the mocking starts to be aimed directly at Rodimus without end, you quickly build to your limit. The gloves come off when your captor crosses the final line and calls your partner "Hot Rod" in an unacceptable jab.
·"Oh for God's sake! It's Rodimus you dolt, not Hot Rod! I know the extra syllable is a little difficult for you, but try to keep up!" Your shout echoes so loudly in the tiny cave that a bit of dust falls from the ceiling. Your captor is quick to try and shut you up, but that doesn't stop you in the slightest, as yelling feels far better than taking any more of their trash. For pete's sake, they stole you for ransom and they're expecting good behavior? Entitlement falls way short of describing what a jerk this bot is, and you let them know it, channeling the insults you know your partner would unleash if they could.
·"You think you scare me? You think you scare anyone?! You're dumb enough to piss off the captain of the Lost Light buddy, you should be afraid! Rodimus sees guys like you as footnotes compared to what he usually deals with!" Quite accustomed to your beloved captain charging in to save the day, you let loose a long list of his accomplishments, proudly defending and boasting at the same time. Your captor can't even get a word in edgewise. With a devilish smirk, you start to go on about all the less public ways Rodimus rules as a partner. His impeccable charm, his smooth wit, and his capacity to perform as a Prime where it really counts... That last bit is kept from vulgarity only due to a none too distant explosion cutting you off.
·Before anything can move, the door quite literally melts before imploding inward as molten metal, revealing Rodimus covered in flame. He moves in a fiery blur, his fist more akin to a meteorite as it collides with your captor to knock them out in a single punch. At your cheering of his name, he comes to your side in a flash, fire dissipating completely after he frees you of your bonds. Moments later the remainder of the crew is pouring in with Magnus scolding Rodimus for rushing ahead. He ignored him completely as he takes you into his arms, optics shining as if he's beholding something more precious than the Matrix could ever be. Though his words are flirty, his tone is tender and brimming with affection as he takes you back to the ship. His lovestruck expression doesn't seem to go away even when he throws a massive party to celebrate your rescue.
·In an incredibly rare moment where his responsibilities pull him away from you, a bot close to him tells you something they think you should know. Rodimus was initially devastated by your kidnapping. Though the entire ship had rallied for your rescue, he'd barely held it together enough to take charge, and hearing the bot mock him had nearly sent him over the edge. Your outburst had, as if by a miracle, revitalized him. Hearing you stick up for him, including your grand list of what you adored about him, had so inspired him that controlling his fire had become easy. It was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. You believing in him had put into perspective what he was capable of, to the point it lit a fire in the most literal sense of the phrase.
Brainstorm
·Dating a bot brilliant enough to rend time had made you quite accustomed to shenanigans of all kinds. Thus, you were calm when kidnapped, both due to the aforementioned reason as well as your certainty of rescue. However, that calm had proved short lived when your captor proved to be an annoying jerk with a massive inferiority complex. Their ceaseless mockery through the communication channel was like torture the DJD would have found too cruel to condone. You'd been able to stay cool for some time, focusing on keeping the situation calm and looking for weak points your rescuers might exploit, but inevitably you'd been pushed to your limit. The final straw had been your captor having the audacity to mock your partner for being a hopeless inventor who only managed to make things no one needed, and that sent you over the edge.
·"Hopeless?! You call inventing time travel and creating the multiverse hopeless?! This coming from a loser in a cave with the most backwards security system on this side of the galaxy?!" Your outburst had come with a rattling of your chains to emphasize your point, and between your voice and the clanking metal you'd immediately had the full attention of the bad bot. Still enraged, you made a point of detailing every single categorical failure they'd displayed, having learned plenty about judging the quality of technology in Brainstorm's lab. There's more than enough material for you to throw at them with the nightmare of poor maintenance surrounding you. "When was the last time you bothered patching up these turrets anyway?! Hope you're not planning on using these for defense, Brainstorm will have them short circuiting before he's done hacking that door!"
·There's something resembling an attempt at a comeback, but you're a mile ahead before it's even halfway out. To say your beloved bot eclipses this loser's intellect would imply they'd actually register on the same level, and you have to laugh at the absurdity of someone so incompetent daring to come after one of the most brilliant bots in the galaxy, something you let them know in no uncertain terms. The litany of reality warping ways you might be rescued is as long as it is ridiculously plausible. You begin going off on the countless other ways Brainstorm might get around this captive situation, extolling his many talents in weapon design and paying special attention to how brilliantly he thinks outside the box. You're about to get into the details of other areas he's creative in when the lights go out and everything plunges in to darkness.
·Flashes of biolights, small explosions, and shouts of action are all you have to discern some incredible rush of activity. Before you can really figure out what's happening a beautiful pair of yellow optics light up the darkness, and in a split second your chains are broken and you're being lovingly cupped by a pair of careful hands. At the flip of a small device the lights flicker on to reveal a beaten but otherwise fine captor being cuffed, but you ignore that entirely when Brainstorm removes his mask to speak to you. Playfully fussing over your condition, he uncharacteristically kisses your little head in full view of everyone, something he's never done before. In fact, the next few days he's nothing but openly loving and outright showy in his affections, publicly presenting you with a series of fantastic gifts invented to profess his love.
·In a rare moment of solitude, you're unexpectedly taken aside by a bot who says they need to let you know something important. Brainstorm was almost dangerous. He'd already lost one love, and he'd been so intent on not losing another he'd been forced from his lab to prevent him from tearing reality asunder to get to you. He'd been nearly impossible to console or restrain until your voice came through the comm. Hearing you defend him so passionately had calmed and invigorated him all at once, grounding him in reality and giving him the clarity he needed to assist in rescuing you. The device he'd created to extinguish enemy defenses had been put together at a speed that impressed Perceptor. It was thanks to you that he remembered to go slow and take things one step at a time, because just as much as you were worth fighting for, you were worth living for.
#transformers#maccadam#mtmte#more than meets the eye#lost light imagine#lostlight#lost light#idw#tf#ll#my writing#my asks#anon#requests#rodimus prime#rodimus x reader#brainstorm#brainstorm x reader#human reader#self insert
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Frosted Windowpanes Part Two
I have no idea why this was so hard to write? Part one just came so easily and this... not so much. But here it is! All the holiday tropes! Christmas puns (thank you to all of y’all who gave me ideas for those)! Falling in love!
As always, @donttouchmycarrots is my hero for proofreading!! Love you <3
@lumosinlove Guess who’s back to borrow your characters ;) Thank you so much!!
Part One if you missed it!
.
Finn had a Plan.
Well, half a Plan.
Maybe.
Step one: meet up with Logan and Leo again. Step two: woo them. Step three: …
Well, it wasn’t much. And it was very vague. But Finn’s plans tended to never go the way he wanted them to anyway, so vague was usually for the best. And so far, it had been going well. They’d grabbed dinner several times, ran into each other at the store or buying Christmas presents downtown. And on Monday the diner was closed, so Finn and Leo spent hours at the farm helping where they could and pestering Logan. He was so fun to tease – he got all gruff and grumpy and adorable. Leo seemed to think so, too, if the number of times he teamed up with Finn to make Logan get all red was anything to go off of.
At the beginning of all this, Finn had thought he’d been overdramatic. He’d woken up the morning after first meeting Logan and Leo and assumed he’d been tired and jet-lagged and was imagining all those feelings he’d felt the night before.
And then he’d met up with them again.
Love at first sight wasn’t real. Finn knew this. But being here, meeting Logan and Leo, just might have been enough to change his mind. It made no sense, but – well, here he was. The past few days were happy, rose-tinted, and Finn couldn’t believe his luck. What were the odds that he’d find both of them in this sleepy little town?
So here he was, pulling into the parking lot of Leo’s for a cup of coffee and a healthy serving of sweet southern blond.
Leo was out front, shoveling snow and looking absolutely miserable while doing it. He was bundled in a thick coat and hat, scarf wrapped high around his neck. Finn laughed under his breath as he turned his car off and braved the cold. Poor southern boy. Leo glanced up at him briefly when he approached, then did a double take.
“Morning, sunshine.” Finn said with a cheeky grin. “Enjoying the snow day?”
Leo’s resulting grumpy look made Finn laugh. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“Nate called and said he can’t make it to work today because the roads are so bad.” Leo took a deep breath, and then the rest of his words came out in a jumbled, rushed mess. “Which isn’t his fault and I’m not blaming him at all. But I haven’t started cooking and we open in thirty minutes and there’s no coffee brewing and nowhere for people to park because of this goddamn snow and so I’m stuck shoveling snow instead of cooking and I’m so far behind-”
Finn gently pressed a finger to Leo’s lips, halting the nervous ramblings. Leo looked down at his finger, then back up to meet Finn’s eyes.
Oh, he was so gorgeous.
Finn had to force himself to focus on the matter at hand instead of cherry-red lips and soft baby blues. “Relax, ok? And hand me the shovel. I’ll do this, while you get on inside and start cooking.”
“But – Finn,” Leo said, and wow did he love the sound of his voice in that southern twang.
“Leo,” He echoed with an attempted accent, eliciting a smile from the blond.
“I can’t just ask you to work. You’re on vacation.”
“First of all, you didn’t ask – I offered. And the friends I’m visiting are both at work,” Finn explained, “so I’ve been left to my own devices for the day.”
Leo winced in sympathy. “Bless your heart.”
And see, Finn had done his research. He’d googled New Orleans, the state of Louisiana, and the south in general. And he’d learned that southerners were very confusing – more confusing than people gave them credit for. They were polite and kind to everyone, even if they definitely didn’t mean it. The phrase “bless your heart” could mean they either absolutely adored you or they thought you were the worst person on the planet.
Finn really hoped it wasn’t the latter. He didn’t think it was the latter, anyways.
“I’m literally dying of boredom. I’ll shovel the snow, and then I can come help you cook!” At Leo’s skeptical look, Finn brought out the big guns: his puppy dog eyes. They were known to melt even the hardest of hearts. He’d learned this lesson in college when asking his Grinch of an Ethics professor for some extra credit. “Please?”
Leo hesitated, but Finn could see the exact moment he caved. “Alright. But you’re getting paid.”
“Absolutely not. Consider it a Christmas gift.”
“I’ll pay you in food and coffee.”
“Deal.” Finn said, grabbing the shovel from Leo’s mittened hands. “Like I could ever say no to your food.”
Leo’ smile, warm and a little bashful, probably could’ve thawed the snow on the pavement if it was directed that way. “What would you like: sweet or savory?”
“Sweet,” Finn said instantly, even though he really preferred savory. His one-track mind was still stuck on dimples. “But I take my coffee black.”
“Comin’ right up.”
Finn watched him go, knowing that he had the dopiest smile on his face. Today was going to be a good day. And he knew a way to make it even better.
Finn dialed the number for Tremblay’s Trees, hoping more than anything that Logan would be the one to pick up. But of course he wasn’t that lucky. A bright, cheery voice answered the phone - definitely not Logan. “Tremblay’s Trees!0 This is Thomas, how can I help you?”
“Uh,” Finn said articulately, “Hi, I’d like to talk to Logan. Is he there?”
There was a slight pause, then: “Maybe. Who’s asking? And how do you know our dear Lolo?” The voice sounded curious, if not a little mischievous. Before Finn could answer, though, there was a scuffling over the line.
“Talker, give me the phone.”
“Oh, come on, I’ve got the five o’clock news slot tonight. Give the people what they want, Logan! Who’s your mystery caller?”
“I swear to god-”
The scuffling sound got louder, then there was a loud clatter when Finn assumed the phone hit the ground. He jerked his own phone away from his ear with a wince. “I am very confused.” He stated, not sure if anyone else heard him.
There was a small, softer rustle, then a breathless voice asked, “Hello?”
Finn couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Lolo.”
That laugh was just as wonderful over the phone as it was in person. “Please don’t call me that.”
“Mmm… I might need to be convinced.” Finn said, letting some flirtiness slip through. “Anyways, I’ve got an idea. You busy today?”
“I’ve got the morning off. Why, what did you have in mind?”
So Finn, with the phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, told the story of this morning as he shoveled – Nate not being able to make it to his shift, the ice and snow in Leo’s parking lot, Leo being behind on cooking and acting anxious. “So I was thinking we could do something? Like a surprise? And I know you guys need to actually sell things and make a living and stuff but I was thinking about decorating the diner? He just works so hard and he’s so stressed and I feel like he could use a little holiday cheer. What do you think?”
The other voice from earlier must have shouted, because he was loud enough to hear over the phone. “Phone guy! What the hell did you say to make him melt like that?”
Logan punched Talker in the shoulder. Hard. “I will lock you in the closet, Talker. Shut. Up.” His attention was brought back to the phone by Finn’s laugh and his demeanor softened again. He’d never met someone as chaotically considerate as Finn O’Hara. It was such a sweet, thoughtful idea. And it was something to help out Leo? How could Logan say no?
“Sounds like a plan.” Logan said, cradling the phone closer to his ear. “Most people already have their decorations so we don’t have a whole lot left, but I’ll see what I can find.”
“Perfect! Oh this is going to be so fun – fuck, I’ve gotta go. Customers just showed up. But I’ll see you soon, yeah?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Great. Ok see you soon bye!” The words reached Logan in a rush before the line went dead.
What a dork.
Logan was pretty sure he was half in love with him.
“So…” Talker said suddenly, making Logan spin around quickly. “Who are you pining over?”
Noelle, who had been passing by on her way to the kitchen, backpedaled in order to join the conversation. “Are we talking about Logan’s love life? Because I’m so here for that.”
Logan sighed and went to the coat rack by the door, grabbing his coat, toque, and scarf. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
They both promptly ignored him. Talker grinned at his fiancée, sensing trouble he could get into. “He’s become such a sap.”
Noelle snuggled up to Talker, turning her teasing gaze to her brother. “But if it’s who I’m thinking of, they have such good chemis-tree.”
“Did you guys practice this or something?”
“Hey man, don’t be so defensive.” Talker said, voice turning serious. “You know we’re all rooting for you.”
“I hate you both so much.”
“Aww, don’t be like that, Lolo.” Noelle sighed, giving him an over-the-top hug and obnoxious kisses to his cheek. “We’re just having some fun. Do you want us to stop needling you?”
“I’m having fun fir sure!” Talker shouted, then burst into raucous laughter, which stopped as abruptly as it started. “Wait. That wasn’t Leo on the phone. You've got eyes for someone other than him, now? Branching out a little, are we?"
“No.” Logan said instantly, then winced. Because his feelings for Leo definitely hadn’t changed. But then there was Finn… “Maybe. It’s complicated, ok?”
“The redhead that was hanging out with you and Leo on Monday?”
Logan felt his cheeks heat up but didn’t say anything. Monday had been the best, though. Showing the two of them the farm and how he did his job and watching their noses and cheeks turn adorable shades of pink from the cold. Even though he’d been there for a year, Leo still seemed in awe of all the snow. He clearly hated it, but Logan could tell he still found wonder and beauty in a clean blanket of undisturbed, freshly-fallen snow. Finn, even though he was clearly freezing too, kept cracking jokes the entire time, his voice muffled by his scarf. They’d walked and talked and learned more about each other among the saplings that would be full-grown and ready to be cut down by next season.
Yeah, Monday had been a great day.
And Logan was so screwed.
“Birch, please.” Noelle teased, then softened. “But really, Logan. Both of them were just as interested in you as they were in each other. You’ve got nothing to worry about, you just need to talk to them.”
He looked up from the buttons of his coat. “You think so?”
“Only one way to find out. What are you doing with them today?”
“We’re decorating the diner.” Logan pulled his hat on and looked over at his sister. “Do you think dad’ll be ok with me taking some garland and a wreath?”
Noelle scoffed. “With all the coffee and pastries you boy’s given us, I think he’s more than paid for it. Do you want company?”
“No.”
“Oh, come on,” Talker said, wiggling his eyebrows. “We’d make the perfect wingmen.”
“You did enough while I was on the phone, thanks.” Logan said, grabbing the keys from the counter. “Ok I’m headed out. See you later.”
Talker and Noelle sent a chorus of boos after him, only stopping when the door closed firmly behind him. He huffed out a laugh, shook his head, and headed towards the display counter to grab decorations. They were a little old since it was so close to Christmas day, but they’d have to do. Logan hesitated for a split second, then grabbed the Santa hat as well. They’d get a kick out of that. He threw the decorations in the back of the truck and took off down the road.
.
They actually worked really well together – Leo and Finn, that is. Finn dealt with customers while Leo made the food. They had a complex, intricate dance around the close quarters of the diner but they seemed to know the footwork already and could predict exactly what the other needed without blinking an eye. Leo peered out the kitchen window at Finn as he took orders at another table, laughing at something one of the women said. He was good at this. He was naturally outgoing and good with people, but he was also efficient and seemed to be able to keep track of twenty different things at once.
Leo frowned thoughtfully down at the grits on the stove. Logically, he shouldn’t like Finn. The redhead had appeared like a whirlwind and thrown everything off course. But then he went out of his way to be helpful and sweet and thoughtful even though it didn’t benefit him in any way. He had a big heart with a lot of love to give. And he gave it willingly to everyone, it seemed.
Don’t get him wrong, that was a good thing – it was a great thing. But it also made the past few days incredibly confusing. Was Finn treating Leo like everyone else, or did he want something more?
He definitely wanted something more with Logan, though. That much was obvious.
Leo just wasn’t sure how he fit into all of this.
Finn barging into the kitchen snapped Leo out of his thoughts. He looked up as Finn started looking around for something on the counters and shelves, tongue poking out in concentration. Leo couldn’t help but smile at the little detail.
“What are you looking for?” He asked, stepping away from the stove.
“The, um…” Finn said, trailing off as he continued to search, clearly distracted. “The spicy maple sauce for the chicken and waffles.”
“In the fridge.” Leo stated plainly, maneuvering around Finn to grab flour from the pantry, brushing against his back as he did so and trying to ignore how the simple touch heightened his awareness of the redhead. Finn threw open the fridge door, scanning the shelves.
“Where?”
“Second shelf from the bottom, on the right.”
A few seconds of silence, then: “Where?”
Leo laughed, dumping a cup of flour into a bowl and heading to the fridge. He peered over Finn’s shoulder, then reached around him with one long arm to grab the bowl of sauce. “Right in front of you, sweetheart.” He teased. Finn turned around so that he was facing Leo, a look that Leo had seen a lot in the past few days but still couldn’t identify on his face.
“Yeah,” was all he said, soft and a little strangled.
Leo looked away from those deep, brown eyes and down at the sauce. His heartrate picked up significantly. “Have you tried this yet?” At Finn’s shake of his head, Leo grabbed a spoon from a nearby drawer. “Figured I’d combine my roots with where I ended up, y’know? Tabasco, black pepper, maple syrup, and a few more secret ingredients.” He said with a wink, spooning some out and holding it out to Finn. “I’m pretty proud of it, if I do say so myself. Try it.”
Instead of grabbing the spoon from Leo, Finn just leaned forwards and tasted the sauce straight from the spoon in Leo’s hand. Leo’s breath hitched and his stomach swooped as Finn straightened again and met his eyes.
Oh, he could stare into those eyes forever. Eyes the same color of the coffee Finn had slid through the kitchen window about an hour ago with the words, “figured you could use some” before dashing off to clear another table. Leo had turned beet red, but grabbed the coffee and held it close before taking a sip.
Leo also hadn’t realized how close they were. The diner was small and the kitchen was cramped, but they definitely didn’t need to be standing this close. Not that Leo was complaining.
“Is it hot in here?” Finn murmured, gaze flitting from Leo’s eyes down to his lips and back again.
Leo seemed a little lost, too, leaning closer to the redhead without even realizing he was doing it. “Must be the sauce.”
It definitely wasn’t just the sauce.
The chime that alerted them to the front door opening startled both of them, forcing them to jerk away from each other and blush furiously.
“I, uh, I’m going to go check on that.” Finn said, still not looking away from Leo as he backed up.
“Ok.” Leo whispered, reaching back to grab the island behind him in an attempt to steady himself. Finn reluctantly tore his eyes away and disappeared from sight, leaving Leo reeling in the kitchen as he entered the dining area.
Finn’s mind was still back in the kitchen, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t been forced to step away. He’d never wanted to kiss someone senseless quite as much as he did right then. And how was he supposed to keep it together when all he wanted to do was flip the diner sign from open to closed and get Logan here and finally talk to them. They’d felt this pull - this magnetism - too. He knew they did. The only thing left to do was finally talk about it.
Finn was forced to snap back to the present when the counter was suddenly covered in green needles, red berries, and festive ribbons. He looked up to see Logan grinning at him. Under his coat he was wearing red plaid, which matched the Santa hat perched on his head.
How was it possible to want two people so much at the same time? He couldn’t breathe with all the emotions overflowing in his chest.
“Ho ho ho,” Logan attempted to say, but cracked up before he could finish. Finn grinned and laughed as well, stepping forward to greet him.
“You should’ve used the chimney.” Finn joked, tugging on the end of his hat playfully. He got a smile and sparkling green eyes in return. Finn bit back a dreamy sigh. “But really, thank you. Leo’s gonna love this.”
Logan’s face grew a little worried. “How is he?”
Ha.
Haha.
That was a good question, since Finn left him standing there in the kitchen with the spoon still in his hand, looking a little lost.
He ended up shrugging, glancing back at the kitchen door longingly. “Better now. Still seems tired.”
“We’re going to have to force him to take breaks, aren’t we.” It wasn’t a question.
“Probably. If we tag team, I think we can manage to make it happen.” Finn looked down at the decorations. “So where are we putting these?”
Logan looked around the dining area, giving Finn a perfect view of his profile. He longed to kiss that strong jawline so badly, holy shit. “We could hang some over the kitchen window and some around the front window. And the wreath can go on the door.” Finn followed Logan as he maneuvered his way around tables to the front window, eyeing it critically. “The frame is wide enough that it should stay up on its own, so we won’t need nails or anything.” He grabbed the garland from the counter and then turned back around. Finn looked from him to the tall crown molding around the window.
“Need a ladder?”
“No.”
Finn laughed, grabbing one end of the garland and stretching up to place it on the ledge. Once it was secure, he looked over his shoulder at Logan and stuck his hand out for the other end. Logan hesitated, clearly wanting to do it himself, but quickly admitted defeat and handed it over. He huffed at Finn’s smug smile.
“Shut up.”
Finn laughed as he hung the garland. Logan was so small and grumpy and cute. Finn wanted to bundle him up in his arms and never let go. His little pocket-sized lumberjack. How adorable. He was so different from Leo, in basically every way. And yet Finn still wanted them both. How the hell did that work?
“I should probably check on the customers.” Finn said reluctantly, glancing around at the breakfast crowd. “Do you think you can manage the kitchen window?”
“I got it.” Logan grumbled, sizing up his next target. Finn just shook his head fondly and started making his rounds to the occupied tables. Logan grabbed the remaining garland and headed behind the counter. He couldn’t help but stick his head through the window and look around. It was several degrees warmer in the kitchen than it was in the dining area. Logan was surprised at how tidy it was, considering how hectic the morning had been. There were a few scattered dishes in the sink, but the counters were mostly clean and organized, each bowl seemed to have a designated location. Leo, focused with his head down, maneuvered between stations with an effortless grace as he breaded a chicken tender and threw it into a frier. Logan never thought he’d be so entranced by something as simple as cooking but here he was, watching Leo hum along to the Christmas music on the radio as he poured batter into a waffle iron. He grabbed a mug of coffee off to the side and looked up as he took a sip, jumping when he saw Logan.
“Logan! Hey, honey!” He smiled, like seeing Logan was the highlight of his day. Logan yearned at the sight of that smile. He seemed to be doing a whole lot of yearning lately. “When did you get here?”
“Just a few minutes ago. Brought you something.”
Leo arched an eyebrow. “That sounds a little ominous.”
“No,” Logan laughed. “No, it’s a good thing.” He held up the garland and wiggled it around a little, causing it to sway in the air.
Leo’s entire face lit up. “Christmas decorations?”
“It was Finn’s idea.” Logan said, looking back over his shoulder at the redhead. Leo visibly softened, smile gentle and eyes warm.
“He sure is sweet, isn’t he?”
You just need to talk to them, Noelle’s voice echoed in Logan’s head. Looking at Leo right then, he couldn’t help but think that maybe she was right.
.
“Sure is snowing hard out there, eh?” Logan asked several hours later as he looked out the window. It was a strange lull in the day – too late for lunch, but too early for dinner. They were all grateful for the break. Logan honestly wasn’t sure how Leo did this every day – it was exhausting.
Finn, who was sitting on the other side of the booth from Logan and Leo with his legs stretched out, pulled up the weather app on his phone. “It’s only supposed to get worse. They’re calling for a blizzard.”
Leo looked out at the snow worriedly. “I really don’t wanna drive home in all that.”
“Might need to close up early, then. No one’s going to be out in this weather, anyways.” Logan said, watching Leo bite his lip as he thought about it. “I could drive you, if you want.”
Leo looked over at him, relief clear in his eyes. “Would you?” He rushed to continue, “I don’t wanna inconvenience you or anything, and I know you need to get home too-”
“Leo,” Logan cut in with a smile. If Leo didn’t know Logan would do pretty much anything for him at this point, he was clearly oblivious. “I don’t mind, I promise.”
Leo seemed to accept it without further argument and looked over at Finn. “Do you wanna tag along? I was thinking about making cookies.”
“Well that depends.” Finn said with mock gravitas, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the table. “What kind of cookies are we talking?”
Leo matched his pose, mischief alight in his eyes. “I was thinking snickerdoodles, but I’d be willing to reconsider.”
“Sneak in some sugar cookies we can decorate and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Leo and Finn shook on it, keeping it professional.
Logan was infatuated with the two of them.
“So you’re closing early?” He asked, excited at the prospect of spending the rest of the day with them. At Leo’s nod, he nearly sighed with relief. “Good. You need a break.”
Leo rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. “Maybe I do.”
Finn grinned. “He finally admits it!”
“Ok, ok, I get it.” Leo sighed, shoving Logan’s shoulder repeatedly until he got out of the booth. Leo followed after him. “I’ve got to put stuff away in the kitchen and then I’ll be done.”
Logan and Finn shared a look before trailing after him. They worked together to clean up, put food away, and organize the receipts and cash register for the day. It went much faster with three people. Before they knew it, all three of them were piling into Logan’s pickup truck, bundled up against the cold and brushing freshly-fallen snowflakes off of their coats and out of their hair. Logan pulled out onto the road, driving while Leo gave directions from the passenger’s seat.
Leo’s house was nice – small, but it looked warm and well-loved. There was a snowman out front, complete with a scarf and carrot nose.
“Cute.” Finn said as they got out of the truck, walking up to the snowman. Leo smiled, fishing his keys out of his pocket.
“My friend’s little brother made that over the weekend.” He unlocked the front door and ushered everyone inside as he held the door for them. Leo’s house was all cool tones – soft blue and purples and greens. There was a tree in the corner of the living room by the window, all lit up and decorated. There were presents under the tree, wrapped in brown paper with ribbons and bows.
Leo hung his coat on the coat rack and took Logan’s and Finn’s from them. “So. Cookies?”
“Nope,” Logan said, grabbing Leo by the hand and tugging him towards the living room. “Rest first, then cookies.” Leo laughed, reaching behind him to find Finn’s arm and pulling him along with them.
“I won’t say no to a Christmas movie.” He agreed as they all collapsed onto the couch. Finn grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and threw it over the three of them while Leo grabbed the TV remote.
Logan moved closer under the pretense of getting under more of the blanket. He was now pressed up against Leo, butterflies in his stomach. “My vote is for Die Hard.”
Finn scoffed, throwing his legs over Leo’s and Logan’s thighs. “That doesn’t count as a Christmas movie.”
“I beg your pardon-”
“Is it about Christmas? No. Case closed.”
Logan leaned forward to look around Leo at the redhead. “It takes place during Christmas!”
Leo just listened amusedly to the bickering as he flicked through movie titles. They were still arguing when he started the cute, old Claymation Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. Both boys trailed off as the introduction music started.
“This works.” Finn said, settling in to get more comfortable, his calves flexing against Logan’s thighs as he stretched. Logan hummed in agreement, eyes already glued on the screen.
They hadn’t even met Hermey the elf before Leo was sound asleep, head pillowed on Finn’s shoulder and breathing slow and even. Finn looked over blond curls at Logan and smiled, making his heart thud painfully in his chest. He needed to talk to them, and soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit there and keep all these feelings internalized.
But it could wait until after a nap. He snuggled up close and turned back to the TV.
.
“No, you need to-” Leo stopped and laughed, pointing to the recipe. “Teaspoon of vanilla extract, darlin’, not tablespoon.”
Finn switched out one measuring spoon for another with a wince. “That would’ve been bad, huh?”
“Very bad.” Leo agreed, looking over at the oven to see Logan already staring back at them, a wide, almost-giddy smile on his face as he started loading cookie dough balls onto a baking tray. One tray of snickerdoodles were already in the oven and spreading out rapidly as they cooked.
“We might’ve put those too close to each other,” Logan said, crouching down to look into the oven. “They’re all starting to stick together. It’s just one big, square cookie.”
“That’s ok. It’ll still taste good.” Leo said with a shrug. They both turned when Finn started banging on the table in time to the music.
“I don’t want a lot for Christmas! There is just one thing I need!” He screamed, bopping along to the song. Logan laughed and let himself be tugged forwards to dance. Leo watched as they both jumped around and danced in the kitchen, hips swaying and acting like total dorks. But they were so happy, as well. Big smiles graced their faces as they laughed and sang and held each other close. Leo whisked wet ingredients together in a bowl and leaned back against the counter as he enjoyed the over-the-top show. They were cute together in the warm glow of the kitchen – a sharp contrast to the snow falling outside and collecting on the windowsill. Finn tilted his head back to shriek the last high note, causing Logan and Leo to both burst into fits of laughter.
“O’Hara, please don’t audition for Broadway.” Logan teased, still laughing a little. Finn scowled and grabbed a tea towel, spinning it up before whipping it at the brunet.
This started an all-out war. Many a cookie lost their life in the crossfire when Logan accidentally hit Leo’s arm as he was transferring cooled cookies into a tin. They had a warrior’s send-off as they were dumped into the trash can.
After the cookies were baked and decorated and the kitchen was cleaned thoroughly, it was pitch black outside. Leo had genuinely lost track of time, but he was selfishly grateful for it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for y’all to be driving in this weather in the dark.” He said, snagging a cookie from one of the plates and taking a bite as he tried to be casual about the two boys potentially staying the night. “I’ve got a guest bedroom and a pull-out couch if you wanna stay here.”
Finn and Logan looked at each other, then Logan shrugged. “If that’s ok with you.”
Ok? It was wonderful.
“Of course it is. I’ll go make up the beds and get y’all something to sleep in, ok?” Leo said before hurrying to his room, where he hastily made his bed and rummaged through his dresser for clothes. He muttered to himself as he pulled out two pairs of sweatpants. “Don’t make a big deal of this, Nutty. They’re just spending the night. That’s it.”
His mind fast-forwarded to imagine sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. They’d talk and laugh and just maybe share some coffee-flavored kisses.
Leo sighed, pressing his forehead against the edge of his dresser. “I’m screwed, ain’t I?”
.
Logan woke up to a gentle hand prodding his shoulder. He breathed in sharply as he remembered where he was and blinked his eyes open to be met with worried blue ones. “Leo?” He asked as he sat up, voice raspy with lack of use. “What’s wrong?”
He was greeted with an absolute onslaught of words. “There’s so much snow outside. Like, so much snow. I’ve never seen this much snow before. And I didn’t think it would be this bad so I don’t have any milk or bread or eggs in the house and I doubt I can get to the store. How long do you think the roads will be out? And what about the diner? Is snow damage a thing? Do I need to go check-”
Logan laughed softly, falling back against the pillows and covering his eyes with his forearm. “What – milk, eggs, and bread?”
“It’s a southern thing.” Logan couldn’t see him, but he could hear the pout in his voice. His vision was suddenly filled with blond bed-head and wide baby blues as Leo pulled his arm away from his face. If he could wake up to this every day, Logan would die a happy man. “Come on, sweetheart, I’m really freaking out right now.”
One of these days, the terms of endearment were actually going to kill him.
“I’m sure the diner’s fine. Besides, there’s not much we can do until the roads clear, so we’ll just have to wait it out.” Logan shifted over on the bed, leaving a Leo-sized spot open. He tugged on Leo’s arm until he crawled into bed, laying on his side to face Logan, their feet tangled together. Leo was wearing fuzzy socks.
Logan smiled at the sight in front of him, then closed his eyes again. “Go back to sleep, Leo. We’ll deal with it when-”
The door banged open to reveal Finn, face bright with excitement. “Snow! Have you guys seen all the snow? We should-” He stopped when he saw the two boys in bed, nestled together and still sleepy. He cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to-”
“Cuddle.” Leo said, reaching up for Finn as well. “We should cuddle.” Finn smiled warmly and didn’t hesitate to clamber into bed on Logan’s other side, scooting in close and only elbowing Logan once as he got comfy. Logan grumbled, but quickly got over it when he felt a tentative arm wrap around him as he drifted back off to sleep.
.
Leo woke up to two boys asleep in bed with him and couldn’t think of a time when he was happier. They were all tangled together in a mess of limbs and blankets and pillows. It was warm and soft and Leo never wanted to leave. But he also wanted to surprise them with coffee and breakfast. Breakfast in bed wouldn’t be too obvious would it? He thought back to the past twenty-four hours and decided that if this wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t sure what was. Now it was just a matter of taking that next step and actually talking about it. So who cared if it was too obvious or not?
Leo glanced at Logan and Finn one last time. There was just something about seeing the two of them in his clothes. Logan’s sweaterpaws were visible from where he was grabbing onto Finn’s arm in his sleep. Finn was close to the same size as Leo so the clothes actually fit him pretty well. His face was pressed into brown hair, arm tightening around Logan as he huffed out a breath. The sight did something to Leo’s heart. He smiled dopily before sneaking out of bed, his back popping as he stretched. Ok, game plan: coffee, breakfast, talk. He could do this.
He crept down the hall and into the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as he could when getting a frying pan out and setting it on the stove. Next came the kettle for water to use in the French press, bacon, and ingredients to make homemade biscuits. Normally he would’ve done eggs, but they’d used all of them on the cookies yesterday.
The biscuits went into the oven and the bacon into the frying pan, sizzling away. So much for breakfast in bed. Leo knew the smell of food cooking would bring the other two out of the bedroom and, sure enough, he soon heard two pairs of footsteps headed towards him, one slightly muffled by too-long sweatpants hems dragging along the floor. He grabbed three mugs from the cabinet and sent a smile over his shoulder at the two boys.
Three cups of coffee: one black, one with cream only, and one with cream and sugar.
Leo pulled the biscuits out of the oven and quickly transferred them onto a plate, doing the same with the bacon before bringing both to the table.
“Leo, you’re an angel.” Finn said as he grabbed plates and silverware for the three of them. Logan hummed in agreement from in front of the fridge, where he was collecting butter and jams for the biscuits. They all joined each other at the kitchen table, still a little sleepy-eyed and half awake.
Leo, halfway through his first sip of coffee, passed Finn his mug of steaming black coffee, then Logan his own cup full of cream and sugar, just how he liked it. Logan looked down at it and sighed happily, “Love you, Nutter Butter.”
Finn’s head shot up. Leo choked on his coffee, cheeks heating up. Logan looked at them confusedly before he realized what he said and his face paled. “Shit.”
“You... you love me?” Leo asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Logan’s heart ached a little at the look on Leo’s face. God, he should’ve told him a long time ago. In response he just slowly nodded, hesitantly meeting wide eyes and hoping for the best.
Leo smiled, letting out a soft laugh. “Honey, I’ve loved you for months.” He took a deep breath, as if gathering up his courage, then reached out to grab Finn’s hand. “And I think I’m falling for you, too. Judging from the way Logan stares at you when you’re not looking, he feels the same.” Leo looked from Finn to Logan hopefully. “Right?”
Finn squeezed Leo’s hand, finally daring to hope. Maybe he could actually have this. His heart thundered in his chest, so loud that Logan and Leo were bound to hear it. “And how does he stare at me when I’m not looking?”
Leo’s eyes flicked over to Logan with a smile. “Take a look for yourself.”
Finn’s breath hitched as he looked over into evergreen eyes, bright and gazing at him the same way Finn had caught him staring at Leo so many times before. He laughed a little in relief, tracing Logan’s cheekbone with gentle fingers.
“I was a little worried we were never going to have this conversation. And I know we’ve got a lot to figure out, but...” He trailed off, a little in awe. What were the odds of this? Everything seemed to fall perfectly into place, like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t some huge revelation, though. There were no grand romantic gestures, no race against time, no frantic outburst. It was calm and gentle like the sun rising outside, casting everything in light pastels and golds.
Logan just laughed softly, scooting his chair back with a loud scraping noise and standing up. “Stop just sitting there and come here, I’ve been wanting to kiss you two for forever.”
Finn scrambled up from his seat and all but threw himself at Logan, nearly bowling him over as he kissed him enthusiastically, arms wrapped tightly around Logan’s waist. Leo smiled as he watched them. He loved their dynamic – the bickering and teasing like they’d known each other for years, and yet the head-over-heels way they looked at each other and held each other and kissed each other. They were so comfortable together, not shying away from anything it seemed. Leo couldn’t wait to see how their relationship grew and evolved over time. He couldn’t wait to see how all three of them would grow together. He stood too and joined Logan and Finn, pressing kisses to their cheeks, their jaws, their necks – anywhere he could reach.
Finn broke the kiss to press his forehead against Logan’s, eyes closed and smile a mile wide. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you at that farm.” His eyes turned to Leo next. He reached up and cupped Leo’s face in his hands. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first bite of pie.”
“What, was the muffuletta not good enough for – mmph.” Leo’s teasing words got cut off by Finn’s lips on his. He sighed into the kiss, draping his arms over Finn’s freckled shoulders and angling his head to deepen the kiss. He could taste black coffee on Finn’s lips and had never loved the flavor more. There was another hand at his back, stroking over his spine. Logan. Leo leaned back into his hand before breaking away from Finn to look at Logan – the guy he’d been pining after for just shy of a year.
“How did I get so lucky?” He murmured, prompting Logan to lean up and kiss him, softly and heartbreakingly gentle. Leo kissed him with purpose, running his tongue against Logan’s bottom lip and causing his breath to hitch.
He thought back to his musings of the night before during his panic in his bedroom and laughed against Logan’s lips. The brunet made a questioning humming noise, so Leo leaned back just far enough to whisper, “Maybe I’m clairvoyant.”
Finn laughed, bewildered. “What?”
Leo just glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, smiled, and combed a finger through red tresses. Sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. Talking and laughing and sharing some coffee-flavored kisses. Those had been his thoughts last night. And here he was, suddenly getting all of those things.
“Nothing, sweetheart.” Leo said, looking down at his two with overflowing fondness as he thought of the future and hoped that those musings would come true, too.
#lumosinlove#sweater weather#coast to coast#finn o'hara#logan tremblay#leo knut#o'knutzy#frosted windowpanes
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