#it will be... something. a bit different to what you're used to from me. a little less inner suffering.

[undercoverpena]

11. dusky pink

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter eleven of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.7k chapter warnings: frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. frankie being a boy!dad, luca appearance. an: this one is called jo kicked her feet mid-writing and editing.

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

“You didn’t have to come to help me.”

Tilting your head, a grin playing at the corners of your lips, you adjust the apron he gave you. “I don’t mind. Plus, you did promise me food after, so.”

A hint of mischief dances in his eyes, tongue sweeping across his lower lip. “So, if I want to persuade you to do something, I should wave a carrot in your face.”

Smirking, biting down on your cheek as you slide the boxed screws onto the shelf. “Oh, you can definitely wave something in front of my face.”

It's instant, the way his mouth falls open, hanging. Frankie's arm pauses, mid-air, on the shelf as he stares, blinks, and eventually clears his throat. “That's… good to know.”

“Your voice cracked there a little bit.”

Glancing at you from the corner of his eye, body beginning to restock again, you watch as he swallows, his forehead crinkling. Did it?”

Laughing, you remove the empty box from the cart—grabbing the Stanley knife attached to the side of it to slice open the next.

Even though you've been here at night before, it's different being down the aisles than when you shared food. There's an eerie stillness that hangs in the air under the low lights, punctuated by the occasional creak of the shelving when the two of you stack something. The strong scent of disinfectant is wavering from its assault on your senses, mingling with the musty odour of warehouse cardboard boxes. A smell that worsens, for a moment, each time one of you empties and flattens it.

But, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Finding yourself charmed by the place. Although, you suspect it's by the man beside you. The one who had been prepared to do all of this himself all evening.

“Frankie?” you ask, hearing him hmm. “You ever thought of owning this place? Maybe, making it your own or something?”

Snorting, he shakes his head as his fingers slide to itch at the back of his forearm. “No. Not… Well, I’ve thought about it, obviously. Not owning this place, but…”

“But...?”

Shrugging, mouth open, all but chewing his response as he stacks the shelf and answers with, “Doesn't matter. Wouldn’t be good at it.”

Scoffing, you lift your head, finding him staring. “Sorry, I’ll scoff quieter next time.”

“It's a lot of work. And, it's risky. The place can barely afford me, never mind someone else.”

Shaking his head, you see that look appear—the disbelieving one—catching it flutter across his face. His attempt at making it unreadable fails, as you spot it written all over his expression, practically in bold, italic, and underlined; all very much screaming he very much believes he couldn’t.

Continuing, he shrugs, nostrils flaring under a sigh. “S’not worth thinking about. Got bills. Luca. I… I failed him once, don’t wanna do it again.”

Dropping the contents back into the box, you don't think when you gently lay a hand on his arm, urging him to look. You're just grateful that he does.

Head tilting, trying to find words you swap easily for the truth. “I know I don’t know the version of you from back then, but I really doubt you failed him. You were trying to do the best you could, with what you had.”

His gaze meets yours, a blend of gratitude and uncertainty shimmering in his eyes. “I… just...I want to do right by him now, you know?”

“I know,” you answer softly, giving his arm a comforting squeeze. “And for what it's worth, I think you're doing an amazing job.”

He gives a small, appreciative smile at your words, eyes blinking past you as if trying to process the unexpected validation. Then, when his eyes fall back to you, his smile widens ever so slightly, a gleam of hope seemingly emerging from the shadows of doubt.

“I think you could do something like this.”

Flicking his eyes from yours to your lips, he smiles. “I don’t wanna own this.”

“What do you want then?” Hand sliding back inside the box, pulling out glue—the industrial kind, you imagine—that thankfully is labelled. “Outside of me helping you restock after hours.”

Grinning, he shakes his head. “Haven’t given it much thought.”

Smiling to yourself, turning the labels out, you leave him in silence for a moment. Letting him think, stew. “Not renovating?”

Tipping his head, his eyes meet yours—something twinkling in them. Shimmering. It makes you wonder to yourself if he’s ever been given a chance to think about something that he wants in a while.

“Maybe. I don’t know,” he replies, evidence there of a smile, of something turning, cogs shifting.

“Could get Luca to help—get him a mini tool belt.”

Laughing, he nudges you. “He’d charm them all into giving us free coffee.”

“From the stories you’ve told me, I don’t doubt it.”

It’s then he slides his hand across your back, fingers fanning, spreading warmth through the thin fabric covering your spine. “You still looking forward to meeting him?”

“Only when I don’t overthink it, and worry about the possibility of making the only person who matters in your world cry or something,” you smile, hand gesturing. “Outside of that thought process, very excited.”

Shaking his head, he steps closer, arm sliding around your waist—lips pressing to the top of your head. “Don’t tell him dinosaurs are extinct and you’re good.”

“Noted,” you whisper, staring up at him.

Eyes holding his, lingering. Your throat becomes full with letters, lips rolling as you weigh up whether it’s worth saying them—confessing them.

Instead, you press your mouth to his—hoping he can taste them, and how badly you want to share them.

Did you put that song over your latest Reel for my benefit?

If I did, was it appreciated?

I’m disappointed it’s not the loud-cat-screeching version I gave you in the car, but guess the original would be more well-known.

I want to keep that version, selfishly, to myself.

Just like I want to keep the photo of you with fries in your mouth just for me.

See, we have our things. Thanks for the help putting the Reel together.

I liked being your camerawoman. But next time, could I have a clapboard—maybe one of those chairs that says ‘Director’ on it?

I think I could find something for you to sit on.

Think that movie is something we’d selfishly keep to ourselves.

Be a good movie, though.

[SENDS PHOTO]

Wow, I didn’t even know they did coffees that large.

It was a special request. I told you she’s persuasive.

I wish I wasn’t on my own, otherwise I’d come down and see you both.

You just want her to get you a large coffee. Which I think she would—she likes you.

Rainy, that is the largest coffee I’ve ever seen. I’m glad she does. It matters your friends like me like mine like you.

Yours love me.

I am very aware.

If you’re good, I might drop you one off before I go home.

Have I told you how pretty you are today?

Such a charmer. [SENDS PHOTO]

See I knew you looked pretty.

Waiting, nerves prickling beneath your skin, your fingers interlacing tightly as you flick your eyes from the array of items you've arranged to the still-closed front door.

For the past, so many minutes, you've paced, chewed your cheeks, and endlessly rearranged the items on the table until they blur into a mess of neatness or chaos, you're not quite sure anymore.

Because it matters. Not just to him but to you.

Speaking to Luca (briefly, and on the phone) is so wildly different from meeting him. A thing you're aware of.

It's big. Fucking huge. A thing that you don't take lightly, or ever wish to. Not the permission to meet him, or the fact it's happening. It's why it keeps churning inside of you, bubbling and swimming up your throat; hands wringing out in front of you, thinking over what you'll do when his big eyes draw out the shape of you, standing there, waiting for you, this person who has entered his dad’s life, to say or do something.

You suppose that’s why your fingernail has migrated to scratching at the skin on your index finger, why your stomach is doing somersaults—more so when you hear the sound of Frankie’s vehicle pulling onto his drive.

You’ve got this. You can do this. Just breathe, just breathe, just—

The door finally opens, and there he is. The biggest eyes meet yours, all curious and wide. Even if the shadow of Frankie is behind him, you don’t take your eyes off Luca. Offering a small, reassuring smile, hoping it’ll be enough to show you’re trustworthy as he steps hesitantly into the room.

Not bending over, but crouching down, you let him approach. Watching as Frankie takes his jacket from his son before the soft introduction you've practised over and over again rolls from you—the sweet hello, followed by your name and I’m your dad’s friend.

And you knew it from photos—from the glimpses of the boy in front of you—but he has his eyes. Those soft, expressive eyes twinkle and shimmer at you as he offers his tiny hand for you to shake. One you take happily, with nothing but joy.

“Hey,” you say, voice soft and friendly. “I've heard so much about you.”

He looks at you for a moment longer, taking in your presence. Then, with a shy smile, he mumbles, “Hi.”

Frankie, watching the interaction from the doorway, closes the door, stepping further into the room as he presses his hand to Luca’s shoulder.

"Luca, you remember her from the phone?” He pauses, looking at you for a moment, before finishing, “...the one who struggled to say Aegyptosaurus.”

Narrowing your eyes a little, you smirk playfully at Frankie, the slightest shake of your head as you stare at the boy—warmth spreading through you as Luca begins to grin.

“Speaking of dinosaurs, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to help me with something?” you ask, gaze flicking up to Frankie who gives a supportive nod. “So, I’ve found this colouring book full of dinosaurs inside your Daddy’s coffee table, and I’m not sure what colours to make them.”

Slowly, his face shifts—from a questionable blank one to a slow smile that has the shadow of his dad’s, but breaks into something you assume must be his mom’s.

And god, it’s the most beautiful smile you think you’ve ever seen.

“Sure, I can helps,” Luca says, walking to the coffee table where the book is—before he’s beckoning you, little fingers urging you to come closer.

And you take a breath, a sigh—letting it flow into your lungs, as you reply with a quick ‘coming’ before you glance at the man still giving you both space.

Joining Luca on the floor, you sit cross-legged, the book propped up already on the table as colouring pens, crayons and pencils begin littering the wood not covered by un-coloured pages.

He's eager, flipping through the book, pointing out the different dinosaurs and naming them with an enthusiastic flourish that makes you chuckle. But, when he finds one, he stops. Head tilting from side to side, little finger tapping on the page before he sighs.

“This one!”

Grinning, you take a closer look. “Perfect.”

His smile mirrors yours, before he copies the pitch of your perfect and begins grasping for colours as he hands them to you.

“What’s your favourite dinosaur, Luca?”

Pausing, Luca brings his finger to his lips—dabbing it, scrunching his face before it explodes into a grin so large it almost makes you laugh. “Stegosaurus.”

“Cause of the spikey back?”

Nodding, he grins even wider, doing a little wiggle. “His name means roof lizard, you know that?” Shaking your head, he scrunches his nose as the corner of his lips rises. “And, and it used its back to defend himself.”

“He has a little beak too, right?”

Nodding, Luca begins to scribble his crayon onto the page. "You know him?"

“I’ve been doing my research.”

At Luca’s loud wow, and insistence on you using a colour he doesn’t like—maroon, which looks barely used—you glance towards Frankie, finding him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, fingers lazily tracing up and down the back of his arm, while sporting a soft smile.

Returning your attention to Luca, you spend the next hour engrossed in colouring (a thing you discover you’re doing wrong), dinosaur facts (you’re not sure how he knows so many) and hilarious stories. Finding, with each passing minute, the anxiety sliding from your bones, it falling from you altogether—slipping away, disappearing completely the more Luca interacts.

The two of you only come to a stop when Frankie mentions that it’s almost dinner time, putting the cap on your pen down.

“Hey, Luca. I have to go now. But, I’ve had the best time.”

“You’re not wanting to stay for dinner?” he asks, eyes full of hope as you spot his fist clenched around the pen he’s pressing to the page—the colour bleeding out.

Leaning forward, you smile. “Next time, promise.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Thanks so much for letting me colour with you.”

Getting up, suppressing a groan as your body aches from having to unfold itself from sitting cross-legged, you find Frankie waiting, his expression soft and tender.

“Hi handsome,” you whisper, taking the jacket from his hands.

Frankie leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead—all out of view, just like the two of you had agreed. “You did good,” he tells you quietly. “He likes you.”

Heart swelling at his words, you look back at Luca, who is now animatedly talking to his colouring book, and you find yourself unable to stop smiling.

“I like him too,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

And as you listen to Luca's excited chatter, you realise just how much you mean it.

Think you have a new fan.

Stop, do I really?

Apparently, you’re very pretty, and old like me, and so I should kiss you.

Well, not that I love all of those sentiments, I do like the last one.

Do you want me to call when he’s in bed?

You not sick of me?

Not even a little bit.

I’ll wrap up these amends, shower and then I’m all yours.

The image of you covered in soap suds is going to get me through the next half an hour of this show.

It vibrates softly against the bedsheets, your smile spreading—replacing the earlier irksome client and the nervousness from your afternoon.

“He hasn’t shut up about you.”

No hello. Just a continuation, as if the two of you had only paused from the texting to now. Biting your cheek, you smile, knees pulling up as you feel your Lee scrunch.

“Yeah?”

“Baby, he’s pulled out books to show you the next time you come round.”

Grinning, you sigh. “He’s really great, Frankie. He’s so funny? You never told me how funny he was, and how smart. God, when he—”

And you ramble.

For longer than you’re even aware of as you accidentally go into a play-by-play from this morning—as though the man hadn’t been loitering, standing close by or joining in when Luca’s stories got more outrageous. A standout favourite had been Frankie saving the neighbour's lion from a tree, which had turned out to be a cat called Leon.

“—Also, how does he know so much about dinosaurs? And, fuck—Frankie. Did I just ramble to you about your own son?”

You hear his laugh, real and airy, flow down the phone. “I like it, don’t worry. It’s nice hearing you ramble.”

“You’re a filthy liar.”

With a deep, resonant snort, his sigh of contentment drifts through the phone, making your body, in response, relax. Every muscle slowly uncoils, back sinking further into the plush comfort of the bed beneath you. Ear meeting the pillow as it wrinkles gently under the weight of your head.

“Did it… do you think it went as well as you thought?”

“Better,” he confesses, hearing the breath he releases with it.

Biting your lip, you settle yourself further into your duvet—resting your back against the pillows. “Have I told you today that I really like you?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line.”

Smirking, you rest your tongue between your teeth.

“And, really like? That’s a new one.”

“Well,” you grin, unable to fight a smile, “Felt you deserved the extra word.”

Rolling your head, you trace your teeth over your bottom lip—hearing it, absorbing it, the way he repeats it back. I really like you too. The words find a home, rather than sliding in one ear and out the other. Burying themselves, slotting into a place so perfect as they fit so snugly.

A comfortable beat passes, a moment to linger in it before he asks about your work—about the latest thing you’re working on. Even if you always feel you’ll bore him, he always surprises you by reminding you he won’t be. Engaged, asking questions. Listening and recalling back to things you’ve said before, that you suspect most wouldn’t have paid much mind to.

But, then, he’s not anyone.

“I think I left my hoodie at yours.”

Humming, you hear sheets rustling, before rummaging. “Um, the—yes, yeah you have. I’ll hang it up for you.”

“Only if you have the space too.”

“Well, this is… awkward. I wanted to do it in person—”

Even if there’s no indication to do so, your stomach knots. Tangles. Your heart slams into your chest as your throat, all of a sudden, dries.

“I… fuck, if this is too much tell me, but I’ve made you some space—in my wardrobe. And a drawer. And—”

“And, Frankie? How much space are you giving me?”

Swallowing, you hear him click his tongue. “Well... I mean, as much as you want, baby.”

“Frankie…”

“Have I… Is it too much?”

Pulling your knees up, grinning. Quickly wanting to fire a text to your friend and scream HE’S MADE ME A DRAWER, only stopping yourself because, instead, you, all high-pitched and squeaky ask if you can swap to video. Fingers trembling, your face filling the screen before you can eventually push it to the corner when his greets yours.

“You’re so sweet, thank you—it isn’t too much. Not even a little bit. I want—if you want—to give you the same.”

Laughing lowly, you watch him slide back into bed—the freckles on his collarbone illuminated by the bedside lamp. “Baby, you have half my tools at your house—you’ve made plenty of room for me.”

“Yeah, that toolbox is a health hazard—it is very heavy.”

“I’ll make sure to move it next time”

Scrunching your nose. “Oh no, I moved it. Managed to find some strength from somewhere to do so. That’s my workout for the week.”

Shaking his head, you watch him get into bed—arm resting above his head, fingers teasing at his curls as he smiles at you—eyes somehow just as bright even in low light as he begins telling you about his day tomorrow.

You watch, noticing the little lift of his lips when he talks about Benny, when he mentions taking Luca to training—which in turn (he explains) means Luca bosses them around and they all have to listen. Then after they’ll go on a boys’ lunch, where ice cream is usually consumed, the tradition having started when Luca was teething.

“Send me a photo—post-training.”

His tongue slides into his cheek, eyebrow lifting as he stares at you.

“Dripping in sweat do it for you, Rainy?”

“I’m not rewatching your Reels because I want to use a circle-saw, Frankie. Plus, you look so good in sweats—that black pair. Fuck.”

Chuckling to himself, he runs his hand over his face—and you imagine his cheeks are warm, that if the lighting were better, you’d see the beginning of his pink embarrassment crawling up his neck.

Yawning and stretching, you reach for your charger, plugging it in before moving to lie on your side, hearing him ask—as soft, and as sleepily, as he would if you were next to him—you comfy, baby? as your heart does a little flicker as you rest the phone against the pillow.

“Very,” you assure him, pulling the duvet closer around you. “Be more comfy if you were here.”

“Would you, though?”

Hesitating, you hum—hearing the lightest laugh come from him. “You’re very warm—like a furnace. I like it.”

“That all I’m good for, warming your bed?”

Smirking, your eyes heavy, you sigh. “You have some other uses.”

“I’m glad I’m useful.”

Settling further into the bed, hearing him shuffle and rustle from his end, you clear your throat to ask, “Do you think you'd rather have a pineapple for a head or a watermelon?”

Even with your eyes struggling to stay open, you sneak a glance to see his grin break out. “I'd love to live in your head.”

“You sure about that?”

Snorting, he shakes his head, fingers pushing the hair back from his forehead. “Pineapple. Sweeter for you to kiss.”

“You're so thoughtful.”

Giggling, you find a response sitting on your tongue, it just not able to form as you hum again—finding yourself so comfortable and warm under the sheets you’re barely able to hang onto his voice until he whispers ‘baby’. A little noise coming from you that in your head is clearly words, but not to anyone else.

Only realising it isn’t when he says your name. Calls it.

“Frankie…”

“Baby, why don’t we hang—“

“No,” you groan, the O sound stretching out—hardly with any intent. More said with tenderness and pouting than anything as you hear him chuckle. “I’ll wake up.”

“No, don’t… don’t do that. I’ll stay—listen to you snore.”

Flicking your eyes open, glaring at the screen. “I do not snore.”

Chuckling, his voice wraps around you like a warm blanket. “Sure, baby. You just keep telling yourself that.”

“Francisco!”

His laugh roars down the phone, making your cheeks hurt from smiling, shaking your head against the pillow as his laugh turns to an ‘aww’.

“Do you know how pretty you look right now?”

“You can barely see me, Morales. Stop trying to flatter me.”

Somehow, his laugh is even louder than it was before. And somehow, your smile is larger too.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Bonus Drabble 2

Summary: Jungkook gets mistaken as your father but jumps at the opportunity to show them exactly who he is to you. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 1.6K~ Warning: Suggestive language but nothing crazy lol a/n: So this is another ask by an anon and it was something I'm sure y'all have been curious to see so I figured why not make it a little longer 🤭 p.s. written in one sitting so barely edited Start from the beginning

"Here you go!" the lady at the register says, handing Jungkook one of the shopping bags.

She had been looking at the both of us, no doubt trying to figure out our relationship but went with the one that might seem the most logical with an age difference as big as ours.

"You're lucky! I wish my dad would still buy me clothes at my age. I miss those days where I wouldn't have to worry about anything, especially money" she says, no doubt trying to make conversation while she folds the rest of the clothes and places them inside the second bag

"No you see he's not my-" "She does call me Daddy but I can assure you, I'm not her father" Jungkook jumps in, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer, making things a lot more intimate than they had been before.

"I- um-" I stammer but Jungkook decides to make matters worse, looking to gain my confirmation. "Right Bunny" he says, placing a kiss on my neck and making me shudder, completely mortified by this whole situation.

"Oh would you look at the time! We better get going if we want to make it to that thing in time" I say while shaking off his embrace, trying to get away from here as soon as possible.

When I reach out to take the second bag Jungkook gets to it faster and already has a comfortable grip on the handle. "It's okay baby, I got it" he says, going out of his way to sound sickeningly sweet but also extremely intoxicating at the same time.

I smile painfully at him and squeeze out a quick thank you to him and the poor cashier and hightail my way out of there.

"I'm sorry sir I shouldn't have assumed" the girl apologizes but Jungkook tones down the playful nature and assures her that he understood where she was coming from.

"It's alright. I just like to embarrass her when I can" he admits and she laughs, understanding our dynamic just a little bit more. "Have a good day sir" she say, wrapping up the conversation and he returns the sentiment and thanks her for her help.

When he finally decides to leave the store he saunters out to me, his eyes clearly showing his continued amusement from the little spectacle he put on back there.

"I hate you" I pout and he chuckles in response. "Why do you have to do that every time?" I question, dragging out the last word and it only gains me and even more playful Jungkook.

"Because you look so pretty when you're looking at me like that" he says, placing both bags in his left hand and using his right to pinch my cheek, no doubt warm to the touch from the embarrassment I couldn't help but feel back there.

"Let's just go" I say, rolling my eyes at him and making my way out of the shopping center, him following with a bounce in his step before he catches up to me and grabs my hand, making me stop to look at him.

"Let me make it up to you yeah?" he say, the once playful eyes changed to one's full of hunger. I can feel my cheeks start to warm up again, this time from desire instead of embarrassment because I know exactly what's in store.

I don't bother to dignify his words with a response and simply continue on my quest back to the car but the fact that I've held onto his hand and made sure he was following me still made him chuckle, finding me absolutely adorable.

"That eager huh?" he asks and I huff in response. "I'm done with being in a bad mood today so you've got a lot of work to put in mister" I grumble and he laughs at my reasoning, knowing deep down I'm buzzing with excitement. 

"Don't I always?" he says and I stop in my tracks, glaring up at him, "So you think I'm a piece of work huh?" I growl and he holds back his laughter, finding my efforts of being intimidating so endearing. 

"No, I just love taking my time with you" he says, caressing my face and making my sour mood start to fade away, "Isn't that right Bunny" he says, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on my lips leaving me wanting him even more. 

"Shut up" I say and stomp away, done with his teasing and needing him to put his money where his mouth is. If he's claiming he wants to make it up to me then he's doing it in a very strange way. 

"You know I thought this shopping trip was supposed to be fun and make me feel better" I say once he's finally caught up to me right before I take the crosswalk to get to the parking lot. "I'm having fun. Aren't you?" he teases, acting completely oblivious making me even more upset. "No, I'm not" I say through gritted teeth. 

"Come on Bunny you know I'm just teasing" he says popping the trunk and placing the bags in it before closing it and going to open my door. 

"Hey" he say, grabbing me by my waist and pulling me close, "You know I love you right?" he says once I've cuddled into his chest and I nod, breathing in his scent which always brings be a sense of comfort. "I love you too" I mumble and he kisses me on the forehead before letting go and opening my car door. 

"Let's go home okay?" he say and I nod walking closer but before I'm able to sink down into my seat he smacks my ass. "OW! What was that for?" I whine, rubbing the spot he abused as he dryly chuckles. "That was for rolling your eyes at me back there Princess. Think I wouldn't notice huh?" he says in a deep taunting voice that he knows can push me into submission. 

I shake my head and he gives me a mischievous smile before telling me to get in the car. 

"I thought you were supposed to be making it up to me" I pout once he gets in the car beside me. "Don't worry Darling, once I'm done with you, you'll forget that you were even mad at me to begin with" he says so casually, making my stomach do a flip, my thighs always clenching together, thinking about what lies ahead.

"Just let Daddy take care of you yeah? Gonna make you feel all better" he teases and although I act like I hate it when he talks to me like that, I know he'll always make good on his word. "Don't call yourself that" I groan, trying to hide how easily the simplest words can make me so needy. 

How has he trained my body to react to him so well. I guess it's my fault for letting him have his way with me time and time again. After all, he was my first and I wouldn't want it any other way. 

"You okay baby?" he asks, concerned that he's truly made me upset from how I had spaced out for a second there. "I'm okay" I say plainly and he nods, putting the car into drive and starting on our short journey back home. 

"Thank you Daddy" I say playfully making him choke on his spit, not expecting me to call him that since I had been so against it just moments ago.

"For what?" he questions through coughs and I can't help but laugh. "For all of the things you bought me today" I say and he leans over and grabs my cheek, turning me to face him to share in a sweet kiss while stopped at the red light. 

"You're welcome baby" he says, rubbing his nose against mine before pulling back and sitting properly in the drivers seat, placing one hand on the wheel and the other on my thigh as we continue on our journey once the light turns green. 

"Don't think you're getting away with not showing me how pretty you look in them once we get home though" he says squeezing my thigh and and letting me know exactly what he meant but he chooses to voice it anyway. 

"Need to fuck you in that babydoll nightgown I got you" he growls, "Been thinking 'bout it since I saw it" he growls and I feel myself getting even more wet with every sinful word that drips from his lips. 

"You can't just say that" I say, hiding my face in my hands and he chuckles, using one hand to spread apart my thighs with ease, rubbing a finger along my clothed center to see the damage he's already done.

"Baby's so worked up that she could probably cum from my words alone huh?" he taunts and he doesn't let up the entire time, making me absolutely helpless against him. He knows exactly how I want it and he lets me know that I'm not leaving to bed today, or tomorrow and maybe even the next day. 

"Gonna fuck this little attitude right out of you" he says, pulling into the garage and shutting it behind us. "Upstairs. Now" he commands when he turns off the car and opens the trunk to pull out the bags, making sure to bring up everything because he meant what he said.

Wouldn't be surprised if some of the lingerie doesn't even last a day. But then again it never really does... 

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[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 07

Words: 4k

Summary: You didn't like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you would use to describe him.

ac: _3aem

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Author’s note: so May it’s going to be a busy month for me, I have exams coming up and I’m also traveling for The Eras Tour, which means my time to write will be less, I have already written till chapter 11 but the updates will be slower than usual.

Materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Birdie playlist

A couple of hours had passed since you arrived at Gojo's apartment. You felt like your head was about to explode at any moment; you hadn't stopped studying, working through problems over and over again. But at least everything seemed fairly clear now.

You sighed and stretched your back; Gojo had gone to the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. Looking around, you noticed there were hardly any photos, in fact, there were no family photos at all. The few pictures that you could see, were of Gojo with Suguru and Shoko.

You didn't want to ask, and you didn't feel it was your place to inquire, but you had a feeling that Gojo's relationship with his parents might not be the best.

The sofa next to you dipped, indicating that Gojo had returned to the living room. You turned and looked at him as he handed you a glass of water. You whispered a thank you and took a sip.

As you sat there in silence, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was more to Gojo's story than meets the eye. It was clear that there was a story there, one that Gojo hadn't shared with you yet. Despite your curiosity, you were hesitant to pry into his personal life without invitation. Also, there was the little fact that you weren’t even that close. What were you?

“Do you feel better?” Gojo finally broke the silence with his soft voice.

You nodded and placed the glass on the coffee table. “Yes, thank you. The water helped.”

A small smile appeared at the corners of Gojo's lips. “That's good to hear. You've been working hard.”

He shrugged, feeling a hint of shyness. “I'm just trying to keep up.”

Gojo's gaze softened, a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter slightly. “You're doing great.” He assured you.

A blush crept up your cheeks at his praise, but you appreciated the encouragement anyway. It was nice to know that your efforts were recognized, especially by someone as clever as Gojo.

“Now I’m slightly afraid you will surpass me.” He joked.

“Of course I will pass you.” You replied.

“Remember our bet, birdie.” He smiled.

“Our bet only motivates me even more to surpass you.” You challenged him.

“Is it such a bad idea to go on a date with me, birdie?” He tilted his head.

Your heart skipped a beat. When had you two become so close? Your eyes met and you could clearly see the flecks of different blues in Gojo's eyes.

As you looked into Gojo's eyes, you couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability course through you. There was something about the way he looked at you, it was like he could see right through you, unraveling the layers of your being, with just one look he could know everything about you. You felt absolutely exposed before those blue eyes.

With a soft sigh. “I...” You finally turned your gaze away from him, avoiding his.

Months ago the answer would have been clear, no way would you have gone on a date with Satoru Gojo, now…, now you had a thousand doubts.

“You want me to order a pizza?” He said, changing the topic.

You were not facing him, so you didn’t know what type of face he was making. Was he as flustered as you? Was his heart beating like yours? Oh god I’m truly screwed. “Sure.” You whispered. “Pepperoni for me please.”

“Right.” He said and walked away to make the call.

Sitting back down on the couch you let out a big sigh. You were totally screwed. You were about to reach the point of no return, you were about to fall into a dark hole where there was nowhere out.

Satoru Gojo POV

Gojo was usually proud of himself, he would usually had a tight grip on his nerves, able to conceal them better than anyone. But he was grateful that you had stepped back when you did, or else he might have reached out and kissed you right then and there. He knew the consequences that that action would have brought, and how it would have changed your relationship— if he could even call it that, because he was still trying to decipher whether you truly couldn’t stand him and what was the reason behind it.

As he took a moment to compose himself, Gojo couldn't help but replay the scenario in his mind, wondering what might have happened if he had given in to his impulses.

He grabbed his phone from his pocket and made a quick phone call to his favorite pizza place. Ordering the pepperoni one for you and a four cheese for him.

He glanced at you from where he was and noticed you looking through the window. You didn’t look at him after being so close to each other. You avoided him.

He sighed for himself. He noticed how your attitude towards him changed since that strange relationship both of you had began, you were no longer so stoic and distant when you talked or even when he approached you, you didn't give him those looks that you used to give him when you started working on the project together.

The project... would surely be the last one he did in this career. He had tried in every way to find a way to prevent his parents from taking away the only thing he felt satisfied with in life, but it didn't matter, he would have to leave his degree and study law.

He glanced subtly at you and wondered if you would feel some pity when you found out that he would no longer be with you in class. His heart longed for it.

“Gojo…” Your sweet voice took him back from his scrambled thoughts.

“Huh?” He looked at you. “Oh sorry birdie, werre you saying something?” He leaned on the kitchen counter.

You hesitated to respond, leaving him to wonder what was on your mind as you glanced around his kitchen with a nervous energy he couldn't quite decipher. He watched as you struggled to find the right words, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension flickering in his eyes.

In an attempt to ease the tension, Gojo leaned casually against the kitchen counter, masking the turmoil churning within him with a nonchalant demeanor. “Just checking up on me?” He echoed with a cocky smile. “The pizzas are on it’s way.” He said after seeing how you rolled your eyes with his question.

“Nice…” You smiled.

Fuck, that smile drives me crazy.

As both of you waited for the pizza to arrive, Gojo couldn’t shake off the feeling that certainly shifted between the both of you. But as he watched you, a doubt went into his head. Was he reading too much?

“Birdie.” He whispered, making you turn your head to face him.

His heart was pumping like crazy on his chest.

You looked at him impatiently, waiting for him to continue. “This…” He began to speak. “Doesn’t matter.” He whispered.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Gojo you are okay? You know… you can tell me right?”

Gojo shook his head. “Yeah I know. Thank you.”

He wanted to tell you so much, to open his chest to you and speak every single word he was hiding.

The doorbell rang announcing that the pizza had arrived. Gojo headed to the entrance to go pick her up. When he returned to the living room he found you preparing the place for the two of you to eat. God, I wish this was the norm, having you there, spending quality time together. Even though having you close was already more than enough.

He shook his head, clearing the ideas from his head and took a deep breath, approaching you. Placing your pizza in front of you, he sat down next to you.

“By the way.” He spoke. “Why are you calling me again Gojo?” He pouted.

“What else would I call you?” You bite a slide of your pizza.

“Satoru!” He said, almost offended. “You called me that the other day!”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You played dumb.

“Birdie, don’t play dumb with me.” He smiled. “I remember the moment perfectly.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “Forget it Gojo…”

“Oh come on birdie…” He pouted.

“Why do you want me to call you by your name so much?” You looked him in the eyes.

“Because you call everyone by their first name, everyone except me.” He said. “But now, we are close, right?” He smiled.

“We are…” Gojo saw how you hesitated on what to say. “We are classmates.”

Gojo hung his head in defeat. “Come on birdie, don't you consider me something else?” His eyes shone as he said those words and his heart raced waiting for your response.

You filled your lungs with air and held his gaze until you let out the air you had accumulated. "We are… friends." Gojo smiled widely. “Does that answer seem correct to you?”

Gojo nodded enthusiastically, being called a friend was more than satisfying to him. “Now say it!”

You took a slide of pizza and looked at him with a grin. “Nop.” And you bite the pizza.

An idea crossed Gojo's mind. Would you be angry? Yes, probably. Would it be worth it? Surely. Was he going to do it even though that might give him a black eye in the process? Hell yes.

From your position you saw him smile wickedly and Gojo saw you shake a little.

“What?” You said after swallowing the pizza.

“Nothing.” He said with a smirk on his face and slowly approaching you.

“Gojo…” You said it with a warning tone.

“Birdie, do you have tickles?” He sentenced and your eyes widened.

You dropped the pizza and pointed at him. “Gojo stay away.” But he didn’t listen. “I’m going to kick you.”

“Say it.” He said getting closer to you.

“No.” You shook your head and stood up from your spot. “Do not even think about it.”

But Gojo cared little about your words, as he stood up behind you ready to tickle you until you said just one thing. “Satoru,” he wanted to be able to hear it leave your lips again, even if it was just once. You looked at him with a frown, but Gojo didn't wipe the smile off his face. You took a few steps back and Gojo advanced towards you. He knew you could hit him, after all you were a black belt in taekwondo, but it didn't matter, he probably wouldn't have a moment like that with you again any other time.

When you saw him approaching, you started running through his apartment. Gojo followed you with long strides, he was much taller than you so it wasn't difficult to catch up with you. Gojo had grabbed your wrist and in one quick movement had cornered you against the hallway wall. Under any other circumstances or setting, this could have been a totally different scene. But the only reason you were like this was because you didn't want to call him by his name.

“Birdie…” He murmured under his breath.

But before he could continue speaking, you stepped on his foot, leaving him in pain and taking the opportunity to continue running. Gojo chuckled as he realized what a childish scene the two of you were having. I also swear I saw you smiling when I was chasing you. Gojo composed himself and went in the direction where you had left. When he walked back into the living room he was greeted by a pillow in his face and the sound of your laughter filling the room.

“You had to see the look on your face when I threw you the cushion.” You laughed from the other corner of the room.

It was then that Gojo was struck by the fact that it was the first time he saw you being so… so natural, free and carefree. And he loved it. Oh god it drove him crazy.

“Is it funny?” He said with a grin holding back the pillow.

“Very.” You said with a big smile.

“Good because I’m taking my revenge.” He said and approached you with just a few steps.

In a single movement, Gojo lifted you off the ground and carried you to the couch where he left you lying down. Gojo's heart was beating like crazy, almost bursting out of his chest. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes looked at him almost without blinking.

I want to kiss you so bad

Gojo shook his head, sending those thoughts away and began to tickle you. Your laughter filled the room as you squirmed trying to escape from Gojo.

“Say it birdie.” He said still tickling you.

You couldn’t help but laugh while tears rolled down your face. “Okay… I will say it.” You finally gave in. Gojo stopped and you were finally able to breathe. Your stomach hurt after laughing so much. “Satoru…” At that moment he smiled wildly. “I hate you so much.” You said punching his arm.

Satoru touched his arm in annoyance and groaned. “Ouch birdie, be nicer to me.”

“Don't do that again, next time I won't be so nice.” You whispered.

“Nice?” Satoru said offended. “Look at my arm.” He lifted his shirt. “You have left everything red on me.” He cried.

You rolled your eyes. “You deserved it. Who in their right mind grabs someone like you did and throws them to the couch?” You replied.

Satoru sighed and then laughed. “Your eyes were wide open.”

“You want me to punch you again?” You said facing him and raising an eyebrow. “Anyways, the pizzas must be cold by now.”

“And what about it? They are still delicious.” He said grabbing one of the last slides he had left and eating it.

The adrenaline of the moment had overwhelmed him so much that at that moment, Satoru had not been aware of the closeness between the two of you, the almost intimate atmosphere that had enveloped them. If someone had walked through the door, they might have mistaken the scene for something else entirely.

He could feel the heat radiating from his face. If Suguru could see him he would be making fun of him.

Satoru cursed himself silently for his lack of awareness, for allowing himself to be swept up in the moment without fully considering the implications of your closeness, it was the second time in less than two hours. He had never been one to shy away from bold gestures or risky decisions, but now, faced with the aftermath of his impulsiveness, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret.

As he stole a glance in your direction, Satoru couldn't help but wonder what you were thinking. Did you share his sense of embarrassment, or were you oblivious to the tension that still lingered between them? The uncertainty gnawed at him, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way he hadn't anticipated.

Forcing himself to focus on his food, Satoru tried to push aside his embarrassment and enjoy the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with you.

None of you spoke much after it, instead you decided to focus yourselves on studying a bit more for the exam. Well it was actually you who was fully focused on studying, Satoru on the other hand was just too distracted looking at you from time to time.

Weirdo.

The sun had set when Gojo got up to stretch his legs, while you stretched your back. It was too much to ask you to stay for dinner, right? His subconscious told him yes. He had already spent enough time with you today, so it would be best to take you home and say goodbye to you there. Yes, that was the best.

“-toru…” He heard your voice softly calling him. “Satoru?”

Turning around he was met with your eyes looking directly at him. “Yes?” He said Wetting his lips that had become dry.

“I think it is time for me to leave.” You finally spoke. “Tomorrow we have class and I don’t want to oversleep.”

“Yeah sure.” He nodded and touched his pockets. “Let me grab my keys and I will take you back.”

Satoru left without waiting for your response. With each hurried step, he felt a pang of longing tugging at his heart, a silent plea to spend just a little more time with you.

Arriving at the place where he had left the car keys, Satoru quickly grabbed them, his mind racing with thoughts of the moments he had shared with you today. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd missed an opportunity, that he'd allowed his own insecurities to overshadow the possibility of a genuine connection between you.

But without a doubt your relationship was not what it used to be weeks ago and had taken a complete turn. Satoru didn't know what was going on in your mind, but he could read your gaze as if it were an open book and those eyes told him that you didn't hate him so much anymore.

Returning to where he had left you, Satoru's heart sank when he saw you already ready to leave. Seeing you, with your jacket on and your bag hanging over his shoulder, awakened a feeling of disappointment in him.

But when he approached you, he pushed aside his feelings of regret and forced himself to smile. “Ready to go?” He asked, his tone being casual.

You nodded, a small smile appearing on your lips. “Yes, let's go out.”

As you walked side by side towards the door, Satoru couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought of separating from you. Although it was true that you would see each other tomorrow in class but it was different, there it was just the two of you. There he had been able to see a side of you that he did not know until that moment and that he did not know he needed so much.

As you both stepped outside, the cool embrace of early spring enveloped you, sending a shiver down your spine. Silently, you walked side by side to Satoru’s car, the only sound being the sound of your footsteps.

Satoru couldn’t help himself from stealing glances at you from time to time, his gaze lingering on your face as the chilly air painted your nose a rosy hue. Despite the cold, there was a warmth in his eyes as he watched you, a gentle smile playing on his lips at the sight of your subtle reaction to the weather.

As Satoru held the car door open for you, he couldn't help but steal a glance at your face illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. The cool spring air had painted a rosy hue on your cheeks, and he couldn't deny the subtle beauty in you.

He watched as you settled into the passenger seat, a small smile playing on your lips in response to his gesture. Satoru felt a warmth spread through him at the sight, a sense of contentment knowing that he could provide even the smallest comfort to you.

Closing your door with a gentle click, Satoru moved around to the driver's side, his mind buzzing with emotions. As he started the engine and the car hummed, Satoru stole another glance at you, admiring the way your eyes sparkled in the dim light.

Going from the already known streets for him, Satoru's thoughts drifted to wondered what you were thinking, what secrets you were hiding behind your gaze.

Turning his gaze to the road that stretched out before him, he put all his attention on driving.

No more than 20 minutes passed when Satoru parked the car beside the house and turned the car key, causing the car to then go completely silent. Playing with the keys in his hands, he looked at you and doubtfully wet his lips that had become completely dry during the journey.

Turning his face, hoping to meet your profile, his eyes met your gaze, which looked at him calmly and serenely. An unusual sensation ran through Satoru's body, causing a hint of nervousness to creep into his being.

“Satoru?” Your voice filled the silence of the car, making Satoru stop rambling and turning his attention to you. “Thank you for helping me.” You gave him a soft smile. “At first I was really doubtful, but I’m glad I accepted.”

“Oh…” He swallowed. “Yeah… I gladly thank you… what? I mean, I gladly helped you.” He awkwardly laughed.

“Then…” You opened the door. “I will see you tomorrow.”

You stepped out of the car, offering a small wave as you said your goodbyes to Satoru. As you walked away, Satoru remained seated, lost in his thoughts.

Damn, he thought, feeling utterly pathetic as he sat alone in the car. He knew he needed to get a grip on his emotions, to stop letting his doubts and insecurities hold him back.

With a heavy sigh, Satoru started the car once more, his mind already drifting to his best friend's house. He needed to talk to someone, to confide in a friend who would understand without judgment. Shoko was out of the question when it came to matters of the heart, so Suguru was his best option.

Arriving at Suguru's house, Satoru parked the car and took a moment to gather his thoughts. He knew he had to approach Suguru with caution, as his friend had a knack for seeing through his facade and getting straight to the heart of the matter.

Taking a deep breath, Satoru climbed out of the car and made his way to the front door. He rang the doorbell, the sound echoing through the quiet neighborhood. It wasn't long before Suguru opened the door, a look of surprise flashing across his face at the sight of Satoru.

“Satoru, what brings you here at this hour?” Suguru asked, stepping aside to let his friend inside.

Satoru followed him into the house, his mind racing with thoughts of what to say.

“On a scale from 1 to 10, how pathetic do you think I am?” Satoru said still following his best friend.

“What type of situation are we talking about?” Suguru spoke as he reached out to grab one of the soda cans and pass it to Satoru.

"Does it matter?" Satoru asked frowning his eyebrows

Suguru nodded. “Normally you can be a solid 7, sometimes even an 8.”

“Huh?” Satoru blurted out in surprise. "But…?" He questioned, he knew there was something else that Suguru had left up in the air.

Suguru with a smile on his lips pointed at him. “When you are with her you can be an 11 and even more.”

Satoru opened and closed his lips again and again trying to formulate words. “An 11?” Suguru nodded. “Do I look so pathetic?” Suguru nodded again.

“But in a good way.”

“Is that even possible?” Satoru blurted out.

“Don't get me wrong. You are pathetic in the good sense of the word, you behave in a way that you would not do with others, you put aside that pride that you usually have and with it you show yourself the way you really are.” Suguru shrugged. “It's what happens when you're in love.”

“I’m not in love, I just have a crush on her.”

“Since the first time you saw her?”

“Well yeah…”

“Satoru, if telling that to yourself makes you sleep better at night, I won't contradict you.” He tapped his best friend’s shoulder.

“How is to be in love?” Satoru whispered.

“Hm?” Suguru looked at his friend.

“You are dating Kyoko and you are death serious about it. So, you must know right?” He said. “Listen, I know I had girlfriends in the past but I doubt I was in love with any of them, so I need to know what’s to be in love with someone.”

“What does she mean to you?”

“Birdie?” Suguru nodded. “She…”

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#gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #fanfic jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo fanfiction

[golbrocklovely]

complicated // sam golbach

A/N: had an idea like this for quite sometime, and i was finally able to finish this fic. just so everyone's aware, there WILL be a part two. but it might not be in the way you think lol hope you enjoy this fic and lmk what you think :)

prompt: you and sam needed a stress relief, and if you couldn't get it from who you really wanted it from, second best was better than nothing at all. || sam golbach x fem!reader

trigger warning: SMUT, drunk sex, cursing, snc are both single in this fic, angst, finding comfort in each other, friends to lovers, kitchen sex, almost getting caught, mentions of babygirl, good girl, sam is using you and you are using sam

word count: 4020

~~~~~~~~~~~

To say my relationship with Sam and Colby was complicated was a bit of an understatement. But I had no one to blame, really, except for myself.

I had known them for years, being one of the first friends they made once they moved out to LA. We were always friendly with each other, and kept in contact over the years. Then one day, they told me about how they needed an assistant, someone that could help out behind the scenes as well as being in videos occasionally. Things fell into place perfectly, and I signed on to be their assistant. I moved out to Vegas with them, living in an apartment not too far away from their place.

God only knew why I even had my own place since I crashed at their house more often than not.

Our relationship never seemed all that complicated.... until one day. Something clicked in my head, and suddenly I became extremely aware of how attractive Colby was. His eyes, his smile, his voice. Sam, of course, was attractive too. But he always had Kat, so it was never appropriate for me to like him. But Colby... he was basically an eternal bachelor. So, it made total sense for me to like him.

And our friendship was a bit strange to begin with. We were both naturally flirty people, constantly hitting on one another whether sober or drunk; but especially when we were drunk. There were some close encounters with us, especially once we started opening up to one another. I could count on two hands how many times we had kissed, and on one how many times we had almost gone farther than that. But we never finished what we started.

The problem with Colby is I could never tell where we stood entirely. Sometimes, it seemed like I was all he wanted to pay attention to. Other times, he was with someone else, and wouldn't even glance my way. It was strange. He was always close, but somehow an arm's length away.

And some nights, I couldn't stand him. The back and forth, the cat and mouse game... It was exhausting, to say the least. Sometimes I just wanted to know how he felt. Exactly. With no add ons or extra shit. But with Colby, it was never that simple.

This was normal for us. But things changed once Sam became single, and both of the boys were out on the prowl. It was like their auras changed, and suddenly I was seeing them through different eyes.

I had no one to blame except myself. But at the same time, I didn't feel guilty.

If he can have fun, so can I.

~~~~

“But did you see him? He was basically humping the air!” Colby laughed, kicking his shoes off.

I followed him and Sam into the kitchen area, our usual hang out spot. “Oh my God, yes! It was almost like your old Vine.”

He groaned, “Please don't bring that-”

“Baby grinnnnndd oooon meeeeeee!” I sang dramatically, completely offkey.

He deadpanned, “I hate you so much.”

I faux gasped, clutching my nonexistent pearls. “Wha? How could you say that? I'm one of your best friends!”

“And you're about to be unemployed if you keep it up.” Colby crossed his arms defiantly. 

I narrowed my eyes. “You wouldn't.”

He smirked, “Try me.”

I turned away from him, yelling to my other best friend, “Sam! Tell Colby he can't just fire me because I'm making fun of him.”

Sam looked up from his phone, “Uh? I wasn't paying attention to what either of you were saying.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, dropping the topic.

He stared at me innocently, “...Trying to order Taco Bell.”

“Oh my God, Taco Bell.” Colby moaned, closing his eyes, “Oh, fuck.”

I grimaced, “Damn Colby, try not to come in your pants. It's just Taco Bell.”

“I'm sorry, I just get hard for Taco Bell.” Colby admitted casually.

Sam chimed in, “Dude, I get hard for Taco Bell too.”

I scrunched my face, “You guys are weird.”

Colby smiled playfully, walking away, “I'm gonna go change, order my regular?”

“Gotchu, brother.” Sam nodded.

I sighed, leaning against the island. I watched Sam scroll through his phone, clicking away at options for food.

“What do you want?” He asked.

I shrugged, “I don't know. Can I see your phone?”

“Come over here. I don't want to throw my phone.” He commented.

I huffed jokingly, walking over to him, taking it from his hand. "Well, someone's in a shitty mood."

“I'm not in a shitty mood. I'm tired, I'm drunk, and I'm very hungry. And I wish I ordered Taco Bell in the Uber home.” Sam replied, exacerbated.

“So... a shitty mood?” I repeated.

He grumbled, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“Is something the matter?” I questioned, still looking at the Taco Bell menu.

He paused, then finally spoke. “It's been a year.”

I glanced up, “A year?” 

“Since we... broke up.” He finally finished.

My eyes widened, putting his phone down on the counter. "Oh shit, I'm sorry Sam."

He exhaled, swatting at me, “It's okay.”

“No, we shouldn't have.... gone out tonight.” I half-heartedly argued.

“Why? So I could sulk at home over my failed relationship? I don't think that would have been any better.” He quipped.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” I placed my hand on his shoulder.

“I don't know.” He leaned back, rubbing his eyes tirelessly, “It just feels weird, you know? I never thought I would be single again, so all of this just feels... off.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one struggling in the love department.” I remarked.

“What? You and your secret pining for Colby not working out for you?” Sam sassed.

I glared, sucking my teeth, You know, sometimes you can be a real ass.”

“What? Because I can see you like Colby and he's just... blind, to it?” He smirked.

“Why don't you tell him that and not me?” I jeered.

“I'm not getting involved with whatever the two of you got going on. I swore off helping his dating life long ago.” He chuckled, putting his hands up defensively.

I scoffed, “You were literally his wingman tonight as he flirted with the waitress!

“And you wouldn't have noticed that if you weren't watching him like a hawk.” He mentioned.

I rolled my eyes, my hands resting on my hips. “Trust me, I wanted to look away. But it was like watching a train crash.”

Sam laughed, “A train crash that ended in him getting her number.”

I exhaled. “Again, the whole 'you're an ass' comment stands.”

“Why don't you just tell him how you feel?” He rebutted.

“He knows,” I winced, shrugging. “He... has to know. He just pretends it's not real. When there's no one else, that's when he comes to me.”

“And how does that make you feel?” He inquired.

“Like shit. I hate being a second choice.” I muttered.

He hummed, “I know the feeling.” 

“Yeah, well at least you got to be first. I don't think that's ever gonna happen with me and him.” I sighed, ignoring my heart dropping at my own words.

Sam, always the optimist, replied, “Maybe that's better in the long run. Maybe you work better as friends.” 

“Maybe.... But what about you?” I stared up at him.

“What about me?” He chuckled.

“You really do have a knack for just changing up the conversation so you don't gotta talk about yourself.” I pointed at him, pushing my finger into his chest.

“What do you wanna know?” He asked.

I questioned, looking into his eyes. “How are you feeling? Genuinely.” 

“Genuinely... I'm…” He was hesitant, but spoke, “a bit lonely.”

“Have you tried to be with other girls since your break up?” I queried.

Sam nodded, “Yeah. But none of them seemed right. I've realized I don't like being alone.”

“Not many truly do.” I added.

“It just feels odd not having someone there, you know? You wake up for years with the same person over and over again, but once they're gone it's like... something's missing.” He exhaled, his head falling back.

“Well, someone is.” I murmured, leaning against him. 

He groaned, rubbing his eyes, “I kinda feel like a teenager again, but in the worst way.”

I turned to him, puzzled. “Really?”

“I can't tell how I feel anymore. Or what I want.” He flipped his hands over, weighing the options, “Am I lonely or just alone? Do I miss her or just the comfort that having her brought?”

I jokingly mimicked him, “Am I finally into someone new or am I just horny?”

“Yeah…” He gave me a strange look, but laughed, “What a weird way to put it, but yeah.”

I pffted, “Oh, I'm sorry. You two just said you get hard for Taco Bell, but I can't say I get horny sometimes?”

“Well you are my employee.” He smiled sarcastically.

“And you're my employer. So it's even worse.” I glared, “I should report you to HR.”

“We don't have HR.” Sam deadpanned.

“HR will have to hear about this... once they exist.” I declared.

He rolled his eyes at me, “Are you really horny that often?”

I inhaled, “Bro, honestly.... it's really bad sometimes.”

“Really? Like how bad?” He pushed.

“The other night I almost called up an ex just to see if he would fuck me.” I admitted, uncomfortable by the memory.

He whistled, “Ooof, that's pretty bad.”

“What about you? How horny do you get?” I asked, almost confused why I was.

He thought for a second, then stated, “Mmm, maybe every couple days.”

I snickered, “Oh that's not too bad. Aren't guys notorious for being constant horn dogs?”

“I guess so, but you already know I'm not like most guys.” He winked.

I shook my head at him, “How unique of you.”

Sam stared at me, his gaze a mix of annoyance and... something else I couldn't place. His voice came out low, almost husky. "Are you horny now?"

Butterflies erupted in my stomach, and I did my best to play them off. "Maybe a little. What about you?"

He raised his eyebrows, noting my statement, "Maybe just a little."

I nodded softly, my eyes taking in his face. He was really handsome. He always was, even if most of my feelings were for Colby. His eyes were blue, but very different compared to Colby's. Icy and intense in nature. They stared into mine, his eyes flickering down my face to my lips. I mirrored him, looking at his. 

They looked awfully nice....

I don't know how, but we must have gotten closer and closer to one another. And suddenly, his lips were on mine. His arm wrapped around my lower back, pulling me towards him. My hands rested on his shoulders, catching my balance. His kiss was soft, but fierce. Our tongues met in a matter of seconds, a gasp falling from my lips when his entered my mouth. He pressed his body into mine, our hips meeting and grazing each other sexually.

Holy shit, I was kissing Sam. And not only that, I was liking it.

Sam must have also came to this realization, that he too was kissing me, because he pulled back abruptly. Shock was written all over his face. “Woah…”

I breathed, leaning back against the island. “W-What was that?”

“I don't know. Wow, um…” He sputtered, taking a step back.

I cleared my throat, “Yeah that was... surprising.” 

“You can say that.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck.

I exhaled, looking at him. "Guess we are really horny."

He agreed, letting out a light laugh.

We stood there in awkward silence, trying to get our bearings. My heart fluttered in my chest as I realized how turned on I had become just making out with him.

I really was in dire need to be fucked. And Sam... seemed willing enough. At least, for a moment there.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the loneliness. But something came over the both of us in that moment. We locked eyes, and it became apparent that things were changing. The awkward silence turned erotic, like one of us was waiting to make the next move. I wanted to, but what if I was wrong?

Fuck, I just... needed him.

Sam bit his lip, his eyes tracing my form. Once they landed back on my face, a look came over him. It was intense, his pupils blown wide. He looked eager, determined... hungry.

“Come here.” He mumbled lowly.

That's all I needed to hear.

I rushed up to him, our bodies slamming into one another. Our mouths met hastily, jumping right back into what we had been doing just minutes before. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands resting low on my hips. He spun us until my back hit the counter in the far corner of the kitchen. His hand slid down to my knee, raising it up so it rested around his hip.

He pulled away quickly, putting some space between us. Are you okay with this?”

I tried catching my breath, “W-wha?” 

“Are you okay with this? Do you really want this?” Sam questioned, repeating himself.

“Yeah I do. Why would you ask?” I furrowed my brow.

He scoffed, “Come on, Y/N. We just spent ten minutes talking about how you wanted Colby.”

“Yeah, and you spent the better half of that talking about how you miss your ex.” I retorted. “Obviously, we aren't each other’s.... first choices. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun. Let's just enjoy this, and not make this a big deal.” I snaked my arms around him, pulling him back into me.

“Fine with me.”

He lowered his face to my neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. I lulled my head back, allowing him as much access as he wanted. He pressed his hips into mine, sparks shooting up through my core into my entire body. I whimpered unexpectedly, Sam smiling into my neck at the sound.

I tugged lightly on his hair, pulling his head back. Our lips met again, my hand roaming his chest. I found the first button of his shirt, undoing it. I slowly followed suit with the others, my fingers tracing down his torso as I did.

He grabbed my wrists, stopping my motions. “Shouldn't we go back to my room and do this? Do you wanna get caught by Colby?”

“How about we stop bringing him up? I don't want to be thinking about him right now,” I smiled bitterly. “And anyway, you know as well as I do that man is probably knocked out asleep on his bed. So we'll be good til morning.”

“I don’t think I'm gonna make it that long. Maybe three rounds max.” He joked.

“Oh wow, three rounds?” I gazed up and down at his body, “I'll settle for one right now.”

“Same here.” He kissed me quickly, pulling back for a moment, "but just in case he's not totally asleep, let's not get fully naked."

“Lame. But fine, I guess.” I huffed.

“Trust me, I would love to see all of you, but not now. Not here.” He whispered sweetly.

I giggled, his face and lips pressing into my chest as he lowered my top more. His tongue dragged across my skin, and I felt like I was on fire. 

Maybe all of that tequila was a good call, after all. Because God... the feeling between my legs was just growing hotter and wetter by the second. All I wanted was Sam.

Was there a part of me that also wanted Colby? Yes. But that part would have to shut it for now. Because he wasn't here. He didn't choose me. Sam did. And I was going to enjoy every second of it.

Our kisses became harsher, more passionate, as our hips grinded together harder. I could feel him against me, his bulge pressing right against my core. I grazed my hand down his torso, finally resting it on his belt. I undid with my one hand, trying my best.

He laughed, pulling back from me. “I'll get it.”

“Do you have a condom?” I breathed.

“Yeah, in my wallet.” He grabbed it out of his pocket, placing it on the counter. 

As he undid his belt, I took the condom out, ripping the package with my teeth. I gazed down at his dick; it strained against his underwear, begging to be touched. I reached out, cupping him softly.

“O-oh, fuck, Y/N.” He choked out a moan, his eyes closing at the feeling.

“Does that feel good, Sammy?” I whispered, biting my lip.

He glared, a smirk on his lips, "You know I hate when you call me that."

I bit back a smile, “But I enjoy it so much.”

He hummed, “And I guess I'll enjoy this.”

Sam closed the space between us, his eyes never leaving mine. His hand slid underneath my skirt, palming my sex instantly. I gasped as my wet panties pressed into my aching clit. I shuddered against him, a dark chuckle leaving his lips.

“That's it, babygirl. You're so wet for me, aren't you?” His voice was raspy as he spoke.

“I told you I was horny.” I rubbed my palm harder into his cock as he did the same to my clit.

“Yeah, but only a little bit. If this is only you a little horny, I can't imagine what you're like completely turned on.” He pressed into me more, kissing up my neck.

My breath hitched, “Get inside me and you'll find out.”

“Ain't gotta tell me twice.” Sam lowered his pants and underwear down enough for his cock to spring free. He took the condom from my hand, rolling it down his shaft. I watched in anticipation, direly needing him inside of me.

I yanked my panties down, kicking them off my heels. Sam lined up with my entrance, our eyes meeting again.

His tip teased me, “You ready?”

I nodded, “Please Sam, just-”

He inched his way in, filling me slowly. We both moaned in unison, the sensation hitting us hard. I was so wet and slick, he was able to push all the way in easily. Once our hips met, his hand cupped my face.

I opened my eyes, and his searched mine. I should have felt weird in this moment. Here I was, in my employers' and best friends' kitchen being fucked by one of them while the other was just a room or two away. We could get caught, we could be seen or heard at any moment. I shouldn't have wanted this. Sam was my friend, and not the one I really wanted in my heart.

But my feelings be damned if I wasn't gonna enjoy every second of this. Plus, it's not like I was the only one getting something out of this. I was his second choice, and he was mine.

Sam started bucking his hips, building up to a good rhythm. My hands slid up his back, resting on his shoulder blades. He leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. He was concentrating on his movements, of going deeper into me. His one hand rested on my ass, cupping and gripping it as he thrusted. The other was in my hair, burying deeper into my locks.

“You feel so good, Y/N. So fucking wet.” He uttered, his voice shaking.

“I need more, Sam. Pleaseeee.” I whined.

“I gotchu, babygirl.” He lowered his hips, hitting my sex deeper, “Just like this?”

“Oh my- Fuck! Yes, just like that!” I cursed loudly.

He hushed me, snickering, “Shh, you can't be too loud. You might wake him. Unless that's what you want…”

“What?” I raised an eyebrow, pulling back slightly.

He slowed his movements down, tracing my jaw with his thumb.“You wanna get caught, don't you?” 

I hated that the idea did excite me. The thoughts swirled in my head; would Colby be upset? Would Sam? The what ifs made my mind wonder.

Sam grabbed my face suddenly, a little rougher than I expected him to be. “Look at me.”

I blinked, staring into his eyes.

“Don't look away from me, okay? I want all of your attention on me and what I'm doing to you. Got it?” He commanded.

His tone was sexy, my body jolting from the sound. “Okay.”

He pecked my lips, “Good girl.”

I gasped as his hand slid down to my clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. My body clenched at the sensation, my hips speeding up.

“You need more?” Sam growled.

I hummed, only able to nod. My nails dug into his back as he sped up his movements. He began fucking me harder against the counter. He held me steady, going deeper as he did.

I shuttered, “Fuuuck Sam. You make me feel so full.”

“Yeah? Feel fucking amazing, Y/N.” Sam grunted, “God, if you squeeze around me one more time, I'm gonna-

I smirked against his neck, squeezing his cock inside of me. He halted his hips, raising his head to look at me.

He pushed his dick all the way in, filling me completely. His fingers started rubbing my clit faster and faster. My mouth fell open, my body shaking with pleasure..

Sam glared into my eyes, watching me as I almost came undone. I gripped him hard, panting. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, and all he was doing was using his fingers.

“You right there for me?” He hissed.

I whimpered, pleading, “Please let me come.”

“Stay right there for me. Don't come yet.” He demanded.

He picked up his speed again, fucking me faster than he had before. His cock pounded into me repeatedly, adding more to the pleasure of his fingers on my clit. I could feel my wetness leak down my thighs. I was so close, unable to hold on for much longer.

“Sam, pleaseeee..... I'm so fucking close.” I mewled.

He groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “I'm right there, babygirl. You gonna come for me?”

“Fuck, yes, yes! Please Sam!” I cried, begging.

He slammed his hand down on my mouth, letting out a small laugh. “Don't fucking scream.”

My response was muffled, but he could tell what I said.

He lowered his mouth to my ear, whispering aggressively, “Squeeze around me. Do it, Y/N. Come for me.”

I bucked my hips with abandonment, my head falling back as my cries were silenced by his hand. Sam grunted lowly as he came, his fingers pressing into my clit while he was deep inside of me. My body spasmed, my orgasm hitting me in waves.

Sam fell against me, his hands sliding and wrapping around me in a soft embrace. We stood there for a moment, catching our breaths.

The silence was cut suddenly.... by the sound of Colby's door shutting.

We pulled away from one another, glancing at each other with wide eyes. We hastily pulled our clothes back on, fixing ourselves as best we could before Colby appeared.

I turned my back towards the boys, a noticeable blush on my face. I ran my fingers through my hair, adjusting it the best I could.

“Hey did you guys order Taco Bell yet?” Colby called, his voice coming from the other side of the kitchen island.

“Um, uh. N-no. Not yet.” Sam stammered out, clearing his throat.

Colby sighed dramatically. “Can you hurry up and do it? I'm fucking starving.”

I turned around, finally feeling relaxed enough to join in. “Yeah Sam, hurry up. I'm hungry.”

“I thought you said you were full.” He stared at me with a playful glint in his eye.

“Well,” I jested, cursing him out in my head, “I guess I have a bigger appetite than I thought.”

I gave Colby a quick once over, realizing he was shirtless and in sweatpants, like usual.

Definitely a bigger appetite…

#sam golbach #sam golbach fanfiction #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach x reader #sam and colby smut #sam golbach fic #sam golbach angst #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach oneshot #colby brock #sam and colby

[misc-obeyme]

What kind of punishments would Lucifer give to Mc if they did a mistake without meaning it? NSFW of course!!

NSFW MDNI

Hrm, well, I dunno. I think if MC messed up on accident, Lucifer would probably be pretty lenient about it. I don't think he'd do much of anything, to be honest with you. I've always been of the opinion that Lucifer is only strict because he wants his brothers to be safe. And that obviously extends to MC.

That being said, it seems to me that you may be implying a different sort of dynamic exists between MC and Lucifer - one that they've discussed previously. So that an accidental mistake turns out to be something that's used as an excuse to indulge in "punishments" wink wink lol.

And if we're talking about sexy times, well, I have opinions on that, too. But I'm gonna put it below this read more 'cause we're getting a bit explicit.

I personally have always headcanoned Lucifer as a switch. I think he can absolutely take on that dom role if his partner wants him to, but I think he also likes to sub for someone he fully trusts.

However, if he's the one doling out punishments, then he's obviously the dom in this situation.

And if that's the case, I think Lucifer is a pleasure dom.

This demon is so madly in love with MC, all he wants is to make them orgasm again and again. And again. And then again.

I think the kind of punishment you're likely to get with Lucifer is a lot of edging. He's gonna bring you right to the brink and then deny you that final release until he thinks you've had enough.

I kinda think he'd probably tie you up, too. I can just imagine Lucifer putting you into some elaborate shibari - dark red ropes or maybe black because he likes to see you in his colors.

But that's only if he has the time to be that thorough. If we're talking a quick and dirty punishment, you know he'll make use of his tie instead. Depending on his mood, he'll wrap it around your wrists or tie it over your eyes or in your mouth.

I think he'd go for the blindfold most often. He wants to hear you whine for release. And he likes to keep you guessing. You get to just sit there, not knowing fully what he's doing because you can't see and he's too quiet to let you hear him.

By the time he's done, you're screaming his name and he's never heard anything quite so pleasant as that.

Neither of you are silly enough to think that this is going to actually deter you from making a "mistake" again. In fact, it's more likely to encourage your bad behavior. But Lucifer doesn't mind. Not if it gives him an excuse to make you come over and over again.

#ooops I think I got a little carried away with this one #I don't know where the heck any of that come from #it just kinda poured outta me #I apologize for the horniness #please look away #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me smut #anon asks #misc answers #misc naughty times

[scoutswritingcorner]

Hear me out. Chauffeur takes the vees out in one of their sports cars and someone on the road challenges them to a race.

What are the reactions from each of the vees?

Drag Racing

PolyVees x GN!Reader

TW:Valentino and the mentions of some NSFW

A/N:YES YES- MORE CHAUFFEUR READER

Let me preface this with you know better than to listen to some demons who think they are better than the Vee’s but also..you know every back road and fastest route around Pentagram City. It’s like you have a digital map in your head, also it’s very easy to remember when traffic gets heavy.

Stick with me here cause I know nothing about sports cars or anything of the like and I’m not going into specifics cause I’m too stupid for that shit. But- all three have different tastes in cars, especially personal cars.

Vox likes the new high tech sports cars while he can appreciate the looks of old cars. I feel like he likes Lamborghini’s mostly. He has many of his signature colors, but if he wants more privacy (especially if he gets overwhelmed) I’m thinking he has an Audi.

Valentino Most definitely likes the classics but can appreciate the modern versions. He mostly does have classic cars like the cars made by the Morgan Motor company. It has that old classic look that he absolutely eats up all the time. But he does have a few Ferraris’ all of them having some sort of his signature colors to it. He doesn’t let ANYONE except you drive his cars cause he knows while it’s your job- that you do take care of them and if something comes up they are immediately fixed by the best people.

Velvette is a Mercedes-Benz girlie, she has the least amount of cars out of the three. She can appreciate the look of it and loves how the roof can collapse (if that's the word Idk). She can also appreciate BMW's. She's not a hater (yes she is..shhh).

ANYWAYS BACK TO THE PLOT-

You were driving the Vee’s around one day and a demon drove up next to the car, their vehicle tricked out to well..hell and back. Sadly for you, you had your window rolled down so you were able to hear all the curses and name calling before the taunts started. You looked over to the Overlord next to you, wondering what to do cause this person would not shut the fuck up. 

They all have different reactions from this but either way, they find it so fucking hot that you can easily beat someone’s ass in a race without having to gloat about it. Also the way your eyes lock in on what you're doing and how your jaw locks? If you weren’t kicking someone’s ass in the race all three would probably jump your bones.

If you're with Vox he’ll most likely tell you to ignore them which you do easily unless he’s in a mood. Then he lets you race the idiots trying to one up him, he’s not scared. He has more confidence in you winning than he does in himself. 

Valentino…is a different breed. He will allow you to race against someone and he will gloat about it, but the only rule is it can’t be in one of the Morgan cars cause he will actually fucking kill you if you race in that car, those are his relaxation around Pentagram City cars. The Ferrari's? He couldn’t give a shit about, don’t be afraid to mow people down if they get in the way too. He has his hand on your thigh the whole time as well.

Velvette  does care but if she’s annoyed enough by the person she will look at you and give you the go ahead, she will livestream the whole time too. Just don’t hit anyone or anything cause she will throw a huge fucking fit, that’s her car.

Once you win the race? Oh boy, get out a gloat for a bit cause the others surely will. Even if you didn’t demand money, they will. Most likely Valentino will kill them or destroy their car.

Vox will pull you in and tell you how he didn’t have any doubts about you losing. 

Valentino will more than likely use this as a way to get you to sleep with him or he will try to put moves on you the whole ride back to the tower.

Velvette is gonna be kissing up on your face and leaving lipstick stains all over your face and then going online to tell everyone how you were the best.

A/N: IF YOU WANT MORE PLEASE LET ME KNOW

Tag List: @aboyscriminalrecord, Come get some food bestie-

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #the vees x y/n #poly vees #hazbin hotel vees #the vees #valentino x you #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader #velvette x you #vox x you #vox the tv demon #vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part three

part four: say the one thing i've been wanting

Steve had been dreading actually talking about this with Robin. He hadn't wanted to put her in a position to feel like she had to come out or stop using him as a plus one to industry parties to fuel rumors. Even as he and Eddie pretty publicly dated Robin's agent and most tabloids still thought Robin and Steve were a couple some even going as far as insinuating Eddie was Steve's side piece or their third.

"Steve, you're kind of scaring me, what's going on?"

"Birdie, I'm only telling you this because I can't not anymore but I want you to know nothing is your fault and I literally don't need you to do anything. I just need to be able to talk to my best friend and in order to do that I kind of have to get through this uncomfortable part," Steve answered.

"Anything, Steve. Whatever you need," Robin said.

"Okay, so Eddie and I kind of broke up because Eddie assumed I was cheating on him with Nance when she came to visit earlier this year. He got really upset and kind of blocked me from any way of contacting him so there was no way to clear anything up after he left but he definitely assumed I was cheating on him and he wrote that fucking song and I just need to talk to you without leaving out this really huge massive reason why Eddie left and why I still feel like total shit," Steve rushed to cover the main points.

"Steve, hun," Nance comforted. She probably guessed something else was going on but had been understanding enough not to press Steve for more.

"Steve, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," Robin started catastrophizing.

"Can you please stop saying my name. It's kind of freaking me out," Steve joked, "Robs, it's totally not your fault at all. It was a shitty situation I could have handled better and so could Eddie but there's really nothing to do about it know because I can't explain it to him and he clearly doesn't want me to so we are moving on, all right?" Steve attempted to keep the energy light.

"If that's what you want, sure babe," Robin said.

"I just want to stop going down Tik Tok rabbit holes of Eddie's stupid song without being able to complain to you about how fucking tired I am of not being able to do anything," Steve said, "and also I want so much ice cream and a really stupid TV marathon with my best girls and maybe roast Eddie's new song a little bit."

Nancy had already pulled up doordash and they were soon on their way to eating a smorgasbord of snacks and ice cream while watching reality TV and eventually dissolving into a karaoke session initially overdramatically singing along to Eddie's knew single and ending with some old school Taylor (her version of course). Steve was feeling better than he had in a long time and started getting out of the fog he'd been in since Eddie had left.

Eventually, Steve started answering his agent's emails again and submitting tape for different roles. He'd gotten a part in a small indie film in Italy and Steve was pretty ready to take it. It was an interesting part, it was literally away from everyone he knew, the director was kind of weird and didn't let his cast use socials while filming and encouraged only phone calls and old school letters to really get into the period mindset. It was honestly kind of a perfect next project and it helped that the script was actually kind of great.

"As long as you aren't going because you're running away, Steve. You know I don't want you to leave and you shouldn't feel like you have to," Robin said as he was starting to pack his bags.

"I really like the project. It's a good script and I get to get out of my own head for a while. Kind of perfect honestly. The shoot is pretty short its only like four weeks so I won't be gone that long and you and Nancy can keep holing up in my apartment without me getting in the way!" Steve answered.

"You're never in the way, dingus," Robin nudged him and then brought him into a hug, "we'll just miss you kiddo."

"I'll miss you too, Bobbie. Now let me go so I can pack." Steve pulled away with a bigger smile than he'd had in weeks.

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy (if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

#steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie #don't worry robin will fix it #angst #angst with a happy ending #rockstar eddie #actor steve #was it over then ficlet

[shut-up-danny-kun]

I've read hundreds of Star Trek TOS fics by now and it never ceases to amuse me how many different ways there are to fuck up Spock's characterization...now hold on just a minute - this post has a more interesting point than “fanfic writers stupid”, I promise you.

Every time, it's a spin on the massacre wheel. It's kind of amazing. Will he be overly emotional to the point where he's not himself anymore? Will he be so cold it's unpleasant and kind of hard to understand how he's lived to this point? Will he be extremely horny for no good reason? Will he speak in a way that sounds complety wrong?

I chuckle and shake my head. Of course, I KNOW what Spock is like, and MY interpretation of him is the most perfect and correct one. Obviously. He's just a very nuanced character, formed by many people in an unconventional way, with traits that seem to contradict each other at first but ultimately form a rich and unique character that so many people fell in love with specifically because he's so complicated...

Or...is he?

Let's entertain the idea that there isn't one correct interpretation of Spock, that all of these messy bits of characterization are not part of a bigger picture, but...just what they are: a product of many people with starkly different visions, working on a show that refuses to properly develop its characters. What then? Well, then Spock is a Rorschach test. Each viewer connects the random dots in their own way, and ignores the ones they don't like.

Let's use an example: me! In my interpretation of Spock (the most correct one, of course) he is, first of all, gay and on the asexual spectrum, reserved, largely uninterested in casual flirting or sex. When he is interested in the aforementioned things, he tends to be quite ashamed of it.

Makes sense, right? I can show you plenty of evidence for why that could be true. However, in the beginning of the first bloody season, Uhura sings a song about how Spock is actually kind of a heartthrob who likes to drive women insane with how hot he is, and Spock smiles. He smiles at her, as if agreeing and being very amused by all this! This interaction goes against pretty much everything I think about Spock. So what do I do? I explain it away in the most bizzare fucking way possible. See, Uhura and Spock are friends (there is no evidence for this), and Uhura knows everything I've just told you about him (through telepathy I guess? Not like he'd ever tell her!) and she's just trolling him (why would she do that? That is NOTHING like Uhura!). I need to do some Olympics-level mental gymnastics here, the opposite of Occam's razor.

“But Danny,” I hear you say, “it's just the start of the show! They hadn't figured out his character yet!”

To which I say: you can say that about anything! You can blame it all on a bad writer for that episode, and ignore virtually any scene that doesn't jive with your headcanons. It's there, and I can't ignore it.

So...how am I different from the people that want Spock to be thar heartthrob Uhura is singing about? That evidence is as much a part of canon as my favorite lines. Well, I'm not any different, that's the thing. And all those writers I complained about also have a point.

It's kind of a nihilistic take, I know, but maybe the reason Spock is such a cultural icon is because he is...whatever you want him to be: just concrete enough to spur on your imagination, yet vague and contradictory enough to let your brain fill in the gaps.

Don't get me wrong: I absolutely do not believe in this. In my mind, it just so happens that I'm one of the, like, 5 people ever who truly understood Spock (and one of them is Jim Kirk himself). But I still think it's something worth thinking about next time you're mad at a fic.

#star trek tos #spirk #s'chn t'gai spock #spock #tos spock #character analysis #dannytypes #takes

[live-laugh-lenney]

You should so do a fic where the reader has a podcast (like saving grace) and everyone noticed how comparable she and Arthur seem he. He’s a guest (even though she’s like much more extroverted) would be fun🤞❤️

oh, this would be so cute :'))

if there was one thing yn felt comfortable doing, it was waffling.

she just loved to talk. about anything and everything, from what she had read on twitter to what she had heard about online to a brand new documentary that she had taken an interest in when flicking the channels on the television. delving deep into topics that had endless possibilities, spewing off facts that she'd read about online and putting her own thoughts forward in certain aspects that she found interesting and favourable to whoever she was with.

when she came up with the idea of hosting her very own podcast, in the middle of a housewarming party for one of her friends, she was excited to have a platform where she could let her own thoughts be freed yet she was also terrified it wouldn't take off and that she'd make it to a respectful ten episodes before she gave in and decided it wasn't something that the world needed.

when her first episode came out, she had asked james marriott to be her very first guest. one of her best friends, someone she had known for a while, someone who she felt comfortable around and gave her the space to speak freely without making her feel judged. allowing him to promote his new album as well as allowing them to discuss all kinds of musical knowledge from who their favourite bands were and who he would love to open for on a world tour.

and it took off.

earning herself over half a million views in the passing of one day, a lot of youtube subscribers who were offering their own suggestions on the different guests she could have and the more positivity she saw, the more she read, the more excited she was to continue.

she had herself a sweet studio; big beanbags instead of chairs, with a blanket draped over the back of each one and a decorative pillow that was there for added comfort and matched the colour scheme of the whole room, with shelves nailed to the wall full of relatable objects and images that fit her branding - images of her friends, her podcast name in neon lights and a few faux plants that hung low. it was just a simple setup but it felt homely and that was the vibe she had planned from the very beginning.

"good morning, good afternoon or good evening, depending on when you're checking in. i'm yn and welcome back to the one and only podcast on youtube dot com where we just sit and talk shit for an hour," she grins widely at the camera, cosying back into the beanbag beneath her and crossing her legs, hand holding the microphone to her lips, "today, we're joined the king of 90 day fiancé. it's mister arthur television."

"hello, hi."

he gives the camera a short wave and smiles widely, already having cosied himself down in a similar manner to the way yn was sitting in her beanbag, their shoes (both a sucker for comfort and choosing their air force 1's over any other trainer) kicked off aimlessly onto the rug in the middle of the room and left in a heap, his jacket draped over the back of his seat.

"thank you for having me," he looks in her direction, "this is definitely one of my favourite sets i've ever been on. it feels so homey and wholesome."

"i tried to base it on what my bedroom back home used to look like as a teenager," she giggles softly, looking over her shoulder and flicking on the orb lamp that was placed on a shelf above their heads for a bit of additional lighting to fit the ambience of the room, "i was such a tumblr girl growing up, i think it shows."

"i was gon'a say," he laughs and she rolls her eyes in his direction, "it feels very nice. very comforting. especially with the blankets."

"my nana knitted them for me," yn states, "just for this podcast. she's an avid listener, my number one fan, ."

"really?"

"no. i'm kidding," yn laughs softly and he looks across to her, "i don't think she really gets the whole podcast thing, to be honest. she's only just started to understand the whole youtube thing, bless her. she's a sweet soul and i love her but she's so innocent when it comes to all things technological."

"you should use that story more," arthur insists and adjusts himself in the seat as he felt himself sliding down into a slouch, "it adds more story to the setup. it's cute."

"i'll tell her you said that. she'll love it," yn giggles, 'but, anyway. you, arthur frederick, are one of my most requested guests to appear on my podcast."

arthur's eyes widened and he can feel the heat covering his cheeks as he looks across to her, microphone still held tight to his lips, hoping it hid the shy smile that grew on his lips.

"seriously. i had people practically spamming me on twitter to get you on here," she explains and looks at the camera, "you're a loved man, aren't you?"

"i guess i am," he admits shyly, "people are also asking me and isaac to get you on the bach and arthur podcast. close second to george."

"we'll have to make that happen," yn grins widely, "the viewers would love that crossover. chaos crew and little ol' me."

"i think you'd fit in perfectly," he says, "at least i'll have someone on there that appreciates my facts and interesting tidbits of information. it gets lost amongst them. they're not so intelligent when it comes to you and i."

she snorts and shakes her head, dropping her eyes down to her lap before she looks back up; he wasn't lying, truth be told. she was no stranger to being in a conversation with him, at parties and at events both of them were attending, that involved exchanged fact after fact after fact with each other, hours passing by as they discussed nature topics and the newest piece of information to do with outer space and all the theories coming from online.

with the hour closing in, she didn't want the conversations to end. and she knew, in the back of her mind, that she needed him back on her podcast for another episode because he understood her. and she understood him. and their talks flowed effortlessly with no need for extra encouragement from those around them in the room.

he was an interesting man and she wanted more.

both personally and for her podcast.

--

anyone else getting heart eye vibes from the two of them???

yn was in her element for this episode!!

arthur being on this podcast just made my day. we need more of the two of them!!!

the way there was no silence at all this entire episode. conversations flow between these two.

the two of them are the same person, i swear.

without a doubt, arthur is the male version of yn. that's adorable.

its like the universe copied and pasted their personalities into two people of the opposite genders. that's so cute!!

--

"the podcast episode was a hit thanks to you."

yn surprises him and made him jump as she approached him at the bar, his figure turning from where he was stood with his back to her so he could pull her in for a hug, and she grins up at him before her own arms wrapped around his waist. a sex on the beach cocktail held tight in her hand and she was careful not to spill it down the back of his shirt.

"i was wondering where you were," he says and lets go of her to pick up his beer that had been placed on the bartop, "when you texted me to say you were coming to chris' birthday drinks, i knew i had to come and find you when you arrived."

"looks like i beat you to it," she says and she takes a sip of her drink through the straw, "people loved the two of us together on there."

"yeah?"

she nods quickly.

"i'm pretty sure it was the best episode to date. figures wise," she says and he grins widely, looking over her shoulder and seeing a free table in the corner of the room, using his head to indicate for her to look at where he was looking, "i'm gon'a need you to feature again, for sure."

she turns on her heels and wiggles her way through the crowd, the feeling of his hand resting on the base of her back driving her insane as she set her drink down on the table and hopped up on the stool, watching as he did the same.

"i'm not keeping you from chris, am i?"

"no, he's about to hop on the karaoke with isaac," arthur cackles out loud and looks over his shoulder at where his two friends were arguing over the song book, "i'm too sober for that at the moment so I can't think of anything worse right now."

"you're not one of those party poopers, are you?"

"no," he shakes his head, "i just need to be almost blackout drunk in order to belt out my lungs really, really poorly."

"i think i need to get some shots in you then because i really need to see that tonight." xx

#arthurtv #arthurtv fics #arthurtv headcannons #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv blurbs #arthur frederick #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick blurbs #arthur frederick fics #arthur frederick headcannons

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

hii lovely <3 it’s so good to see you again, i’m glad you’re back and i hope you’re taking good care of yourself. after reading sunshine headcanons 3, where Xie Lian would be the one to spank reader if necessary, it got me thinking, what if lil sunshine reader wanted to get some spicy tips and learned from somewhere to try and be a bit of a brat in bed 👀 ofc that doesn’t end well with his lovers and he gets the spanking and fucking of his life (with love ofc)

Sunshine Part 4

HuaLian x M!reader

It's long guys I hope it's good 🙏🥹

Spanking, edging, bondage, slapping, blowjobs, fingering, handjobs, improper use of Rou'ye, NSFW!!!

After being with Xie Lian and San Lang for so long, you want to try new things! After the recent breakage of vanilla boundaries in the bedroom you want to try something different. . . You're always so well behaved and you're always kind but you kind of wanted to try not doing that. Maybe it was a part of you that wanted to see your lovers be rough with you or maybe it was a part of you that deeply desired to show your lovers a side of yourself no one else gets to see.

The problem is you don't know how! Anytime you even think about trying to be bratty you can't do it. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are just sweet to you and their praise and treatment make you want to be willing and behaved for them. Sooo you need somebody's help!

You find help through books, and people. You read many, many books and then you ask around ghost city and your good ghost gals if they can teach you some tips and tricks. Which they do of course. Who are they to deny you a fun sex life? So for a while you honestly practice by yourself to be bratty. You don't want to set your plan out and go back on it as soon as your lovers smile at you after all. When you finally think you've got it down your plan is set!

It's nearly night time and your lovers were out on a mission. You usually stay home at your lovers insistence. Soo when it's time for them to nearly be home you decide to start without them. You were never one to be active without your lovers but you wanted to do it tonight. Even though you're alone, you still blush in embarrassment when you spread your legs . You spend some time stroking your cock and fucking yourself with your fingers.

When Xie Lian and Hua Cheng come home, you don't even notice. When they walk into the shared bedroom, you cum at the same time they open the door. You throw your head back and arch against your fingers with a shrill moan. You weren't expecting a hand to clench around your wrist and wrench it away from between your legs. It's Hua Cheng who does this. He slips into bed and pins you down with a kiss to your forehead.

"We were expecting you to wait for us before we got home. Did you get lonely" Hua Cheng purrs in your ear and you bite your lip to hide a whine. He kisses your cheek

"No...", you swallow and glance at Hua Cheng, "I got impatient waiting. You took too long". You huff and look to the side with an angry pout. You squirm out of under Hua Cheng and slip your robes back on. "Anyways, how did your miss-". You get yanked back into bed by Hua Cheng.

"Oh don't be like that Baobei. We didn't mean to make you wait" he kisses the nape of your neck and loosens your robes. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his lap. Xie Lian comes closer and slides gentle hand between your legs to spread them. Usually you would allow this and let them put you in whatever position they want, but not tonight. You blush but snap your legs shut. "I don't wanna." You huff again with an attitude.

Xie Lian hums and tilts your chin up with a nudge. "Do you really not want to?" If one of you doesn't want to have sex usually it's just a no and cuddling instead. However you've got an attitude. Xie Lian's never seen you with one before in bed though. "Or. . . Are you just being a brat?" He hums and his hand holds your jaw, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip.

You blush softly and take his thumb into your mouth before nipping on it. Hard. A slap resounds through the room. Your head snaps to the side and Hua Cheng looks up in surprise. His one eye darting over you and Xie Lian in shock. "Gege!" Hua Cheng cups your face and looks at the red mark left from Xie Lian but he's surprised to find a blush covering your face and a hardness growing between your legs.

Xie Lian slides Hua Cheng's hand away. "It's fine San Lang, he wants this. Right, Y/n? You want to be punished for being a brat, yes?"

You breathe out a shaky breath, "Y-yes". A moment of silence, a chance for Hua Cheng to back out. Hua Cheng nods and goes back to holding you in his lap. Your back to his chest "Well alright" he kisses your shoulder and takes your robes off, allowing them to fall to the floor. Xie Lian smiles and grips your face again. "Good." The scene continues.

You're a little embarrassed, they always embarrass you by forcing your legs open to show off your pretty dick. You blush darkly when Xie Lian gets on his knees in front of you and starts licking at. "Stay still for me Baobei, and maybe I'll let San Lang reward you." He purrs softly and kisses your tip. Still? You could most certainly try, but you're sort of aiming for punishment here.

So when Xie Lian takes you into his mouth, trying to ease you in, you grab his hair roughly and just your hips forward. This causes him to gag and pull off of you, while Hua Cheng takes more caution in holding you down. That kind of felt good treating Xie Lian like that. Hm maybe another time.

Xie Lian coughs and wipes his mouth. There's a tick on his brow and you know he's annoyed. "I thought you were going to be good, that was my mistake" he huffs and stands from the floor. Honestly Hua Cheng was a little worried for you, he holds into you tightly allowing your legs to close. He's not supposed to let you get away with it, but he's biased. Xie Lian reaches behind you and cups Hua Cheng's face. "San Lang", Xie Lian whispers, and leans down to kiss Hua Cheng's forehead, "Move".

Hua Cheng blushes and moves away almost immediately. It's a tone he hasn't heard in a long time. Xie Lian seems to let Hua Cheng's mistake slide but not yours. He fists a hand in your hair and pushes you belly down against the bed. You yelp softly and even try to squirm and 'fight' him back.

All of it is half assed attempts to get away and Xie Lian knows it so with a snap of he fingers Rou'ye shoots out and wraps around your limbs and body keep you stomach down against the bed but ass perked and legs spread. You scrunch your face when you feel the lithe bandage wrap around the base of your cock. That is not what you wanted.

You were expecting to be thrown around a little maybe hit but edging? Dreadful, absolutely dreadful. You whine loudly trying to squirm against Rou'ye and you curse the bandage in your head. Your thoughts are interrupted by a swat to your ass. "Ah! W-what was that for?" You pout, turning your head to look at Xie Lian but Rou'ye wraps around your throat and forces your head back straight.

"Did you think I was just going to leave you wrapped up in the bed for nothing" Xie Lian laughs softly and settles down behind you. He runs his fingers over the plush of your ass and then over your hole. "I imagined you wanted more than that?" He hums. He brings his hand down again, harder this time, but controlled.

Your breath hitches and you whine. "W-well yes but I want to be able to-" cum. But Xie Lian doesn't let you finish your sentence because he spanks you again.

"You think you deserve to after your blatant show of disrespect?" He smiles behind you. "Don't talk, just count for me. You're on three".

Xie Lian spanks you once more. "Mm! F-four" it's embarrassing. To count for Xie Lian's and being forced to look at Hua Cheng while you do it. You get to a steady rhythm and after about ten or eleven- wait which number were you on? You got distracted. Without noticing you had gotten comfortable and fell further into a sub space you hadn't even realized you were trying to rut against the bed. Shit. A harsh swat makes you pay attention again. Your ass stings.

"Y/n number?", Xie Lian hum in question and his fingers rub where he had just spanked you. He's kind of liking how red you're getting, and your cock that's wrapped? The bits of precum desperately leaking from it, he enjoys that too.

You bite your lip and groan softly. "U-uhm I, uh t-twelve?" There's a pause of silence leaving you to become nervous about your answer, then Xie Lian's hand comes down on your thigh, maybe he got bored of hitting just your ass. "That's wrong Baobei, and you had been doing so well too." Xie Lian clicks his tongue and stands up from the bed.

Your body shakes softly and you whine. You were doing fine! You just want to cum. You've been focusing on that for the better part of an hour now. "I didn't m-mean to, please A-Lian." You whimper, pulling against Rou'ye but he's much too strong. Xie Lian rubs a hand through your hair and shushes you. "You'll get something Y/n calm down."

Your mouth literally salivates when Hua Cheng settles in the bed in front of you and you see his cock out and hard. "Please, please, please A-Lang" you whine loudly but Hua Cheng takes mercy on you and scoots closer so that your head can rest on his lap. You however have different ideas and you greedily take his cock down your throat. "Mmh~". You moan around his dick and take him down to the hilt. Hua Cheng trained you how to do that after all. When you try to move up a hand pushes you back down, making you choke on Hua Cheng's cock.

You were expecting it to be Hua Cheng but it was Xie Lian. "Keep him here San Lang." You let out a loud whine when Xie Lian kisses Hua Cheng's cheek. Xie Lian only smiles at you and goes back to sit behind you, leaving you between them both. You take a sharp breath through your nose when, Xie Lian shoves his fingers into your hole and immediately goes to rub at your prostate.

The sting hurts but it feels delicious to you. You moan and slobber around Hua Cheng, and try to roll your hips, but it's hard when Rou'ye has you trapped. Xie Lian laughs softly and bullies your prostate with his fingers, his other hand wraps around your dick and his thumb teases your slit.

You didn't realize you were crying until Hua Cheng is wiping your tears and your snuffling around Hua Cheng's cock desperately sucking air through your nose. Distantly you hear Hua Cheng ask Xie Lian to let you cum and you whine.

Xie Lian smiles and places a kiss on the back of your thigh. "Hm he has been good. . ." Xie Lian juts his fingers into your prostate at the same time that Rou'ye unwraps from your body. Hua Cheng gets to watch your eyes roll back and you choke around his cock when you cum. Your seed covers your tummy and the bed.

Hua Cheng pulls you off of him and lets you rest in his lap. He runs his fingers through your hair while Xie Lian moves away to go grab a warm cloth. You're half asleep by the time Xie Lian has washed you off and all of you are cuddled in bed.

"Y/n did you like it?" Xie Lian blushes and kisses your head. "I hope I didn't treat you too roughly?"

You giggle and smile kissing Xie Lian's cheek. "I enjoyed all of it" you hum softly and cuddle close to both of your lovers.

#tgcf #tgcf headcanon #hualian #hualian x reader #hua cheng x reader #tgcf hua cheng #tgcf xie lian #xie lian x reader #tgcf hualian #tgcf x male reader

[pfhwrittes]

it is i, the gasping gusper, once more asking for the worst english slang you can think of (mostly so i can force the 141 boys to say them hehe)

gasping anon, you have opened a can of worms that i am only too happy to feed. buckle up, this is going to get long.

so, a fair bit of the slang used in the uk is regional and won't apply broadly for all of the 141 boys, soap in particular would have very different slang compared to gaz, ghost and price as he's scottish. actually, they'd all use different slang terms due to their geographical locations in the uk, age, race and (assumed) class backgrounds.

for example, simon could say something like "oh for fuckssakes that's absolutely 'angin'!" and that would be regionally correct as he's from manchester. "'angin'" or "hanging" (except with simon's mancunian accent he'd drop the 'h' and the last 'g' in the '-ing' sound) means gross / disgusting. it means fuck all in other places in the uk but from where i live you'd switch "'angin'" (hanging) out with "boggin'" (bogging) or "'owlin'" (howling) to indicate grossness.

anyway, that example aside, i do actually have some slang phrases that i want to share with you. they all vary in levels of awfulness and they should all be understood pretty broadly around the uk.

"stop standing around like a spare dick at an orgy!" = don't be useless. (fun fact: my mum said that phrase to me. cheers mum.)

"noshing him off" = "nosh" means eat/food. "noshing him off" means sucking a dick. english is such a wonderful language.

"they're like a dog with two cocks." = they're happy, annoyingly happy actually. bastard.

"off for a slash" = off for a piss, usually not in the provided facilities.

"tighter than a duck's arsehole" = to mean awkward, stingy or small. it's a bit of a weird one. if you call someone "tighter than a duck's arsehole" you're calling them stingy or cheap. if you're referring to a space as "tighter than a duck's arsehole" it's a very cramped/awkward/small. context is everything.

"nonce" = pedophile. yup. don't call someone a nonce unless you know them VERY well and you know they won't get upset if you say it as a joke.

"what an utter cock up" = same thing as "screw up" or saying that something's gone wrong.

"bollocking" = a proper telling off (for example, i got a bollocking off my mum when i accidentally threw a spider at her).

"bell end" = literally the tip of a dick. don't use this for smut writing whatever you do, it's used as an insult here.

and finally, my favourite saying. disclaimer with this one: it's welsh, not english or scottish so the lads from 141 aren't likely to say it but i want to subject you to it:

10. "i'd rather shit in my hands and clap." = literally what it means. the person saying it would rather shit in their hands and clap than do whatever you've just asked them to do. enjoy that mental image.

anyway, let me know if you want to hear some more english slang or insults. i've got years worth of insults built up inside of me.

#pfh answers #pfh talks about england #here's a tip: you can turn anything into an insult by adding the word “absolute” in front of it #e.g: you absolute donkey

[clonerightsagenda]

Could you please recommend some sources or would you be able to give a summary on how swordfighting would work in spacesuits? I'm doing book research, am trying to figure out how it would differ and ended up browsing your space tags for facts.

Ok, first of all, I absolutely love that people are coming to me for weird space scenarios now. That being said, I don't know anything about swordfighting. So I will give you some thoughts from the space perspective, and perhaps some people with swordplay experience can chime in.

First of all, what's important to remember is that spacesuits are pressurized. They're not as pressurized as shuttles and stations, which means you have to breathe pure O2 or sit in a less pressurized airlock for a while so you don't get the bends on your spacewalk, but they're still somewhat pressurized. That makes it very hard to bend the joints. Spacewalking is a workout - many astronauts take Ibuprofen beforehand. It also wrecks your hands and nails - one astronaut even removed their nails before they could fall off. Finger dexterity goes way down. Your range of motion is limited, as is your field of vision - you've got your helmet visor, but good luck turning your head over your shoulder. It's also quite easy to overheat, and if you build up sweat and condensation in your visor, there's no way to clear it off.

Overall, I'll be honest - I struggle to see people successfully swordfighting in modern spacesuits. Visibility is bad. They're too stiff and clumsy. You'd lose your grip on the sword and it would go spinning into the void, and possibly you rip off some fingernails at the same time.

But fear not! Something that's been in the works for a while is what MIT calls the Biosuit. The idea here is a skintight compression garment that provides the same pressure as a traditional spacesuit but with less bulk and more mobility. It even looks a bit like fencing gear! If you're writing a book where space swordfighting is a thing, I'd say go with a spacefuture where they have suits like this. Preferably made out of fabric that's very resistant to slashing and stabbing. Even so, given the dangers of a suit rupture or getting knocked into the void, I'd think getting into a fight outside a ship or station would be an act of last resort.

Inside a pressurized station or vessel where you're not going to drop your sword and never see it again, blades make a lot more sense - you don't want to hit a gas line or ignite the atmosphere! Your biggest concern at that point would be the laws of motion. If you hit someone with force, you might go flying backward. I imagine that would change the kind of blocks and strikes you use, but again, I know nothing about swordplay. An entirely new school of zero G swordfighting might develop? There's some room to play around!

#terrible space facts

[jujutsukgojo]

My gifts to you

feitan portor x reader

Summary: You knew him for years for only moments at a time. Yet, you take it upon yourself to love and mourn him anyway, even when the world won't. tw: light smut, slight yandere feitan, spoilers, mentions of murder, light angst, fluff(?), injuries, cheating, time skips an: didn't mean for it to be this long. Feitan is a bit tricky for me but oh well :) kind of inspired by criminal minds 'no way out'. 10.8k

“If you tie it like this, it should stay, okay?” You tap the boy’s foot. Although he is smaller than you in height, his feet are bigger. It’s quite comical but you don’t dare laugh. In this blasted city, you’d be bound to die for such a thing. Especially if you laugh at someone with crazy hair and carries a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.  

  He says something in a foreign language that you can’t understand. If you are correct, it may be inverted Japanese. In the books that one kid collects, there is a country, Japan, where the common language originates. Since the common language isn’t his mother tongue, it makes you wonder where he’s from and why he’s here. 

  The boy stands up to his full, but short, height. You sit on random rubble and look up at him, waiting for what he’ll do next. Will he call over Phinks or even bring Uvogin? He hangs out with Phinks mainly but who knows these days. 

   Instead of swinging the bat at you or calling over his friends, he pats your head awkwardly. You don’t make any sudden movements or noises. The boy leaves right after. A sigh escapes your lips after he leaves you behind.  

   What's his name again? Feitain? 

__________

  In your hut, you slightly stir the food that sizzles in the pan you found. It’s rare to come across tomatoes and eggs but you managed this time. The smell is mouth watering. You hope no one else can smell it. 

As much as you want to live elsewhere, this is what you settle for at the moment. In another world, you’d be out of this city and somewhere clean and safe. Like the church or something. No, even better than the church. You’ve heard of the outside where there are bright flashing lights and diamonds and pearls on people’s necks. There are flowers of all colors out there. Different shapes, smells, and meanings, they’re all beautiful. You hear that food isn’t scavenged but bought or given to people without a price.  

   People said they’ve seen the safety of children your age that play without a care. There are parents for the lost kids and doctors for the injured. Clean clothes and showers on the regular. You can even see the sun clearly and the big, round moon that doesn't bring out the wolves in men. 

There are pastors and priests that don’t turn people away, either. Hell, you have even wondered if there were schools there that allow everyone to get in. You're sure that you are reading and doing math wrong. How embarrassing.  

Finally done, you place the food on a plastic plate you found. You made sure to wipe the grime off the plate and rinsed it with clean water before using it. Even though you can just eat out of the pan, you want to seem sophisticated like the outside. They don't eat out of pans or use dirty plates. 

  The food steams and is welcoming. Without a lot of utensils, you pick at it with your hands. It burns at first but you’re too hungry. The flavor bursts in your mouth. Even without the proper seasonings, it’s still heaven. You haven’t eaten in a while so you’ll take what you can get.  

   Suddenly, the boy, Feitan, enters your hut. You gasp and protectively cover your food. He brings his foot out. His shoe, which he stole, is untied again. You swallow the substance and point out, “I taught you how to tie them.” 

“Tie.” 

“I taught you.” You set your plate down.  

“Tie.” You roll your eyes and pat your thighs. He walks over to you and places his dirt caked shoe on your lap. Slowly, you tie them.  

“There, see? Come on now, you need to learn. A little boy can’t grow without tying his shoes.” 

“I’m not little boy.” You give a breathy chuckle. “Of course you are, honey.” 

  He leans in close to your face. “I’m older than you.”  

...He does hang out with Phinks, who is a couple years older than you. In fact, it is rare to see them apart. Is it possible that it’s true? Is Phinks the type to be friends with someone who is younger?

 Curious, you ask, “Then why are you so short?” His eyes widened in shock. Then, strangely, he laughs while patting your head harshly. Studying his face revealed what looks like the beginning of a sinister smile.

  He looks at your plate and sits down in front of you. You’re both on the dirt floor. 

 “Give me.” You scoff and snap at him. “No! Find your own!” 

The little beast decided that the two of you should ‘share’. He smacks on his food, making you want to punch him repeatedly. He’s gaunt and bony, but not really bad like last time. His face has a tiny bit of roundness to it. 

  “Stop staring.” He inhales a tomato. “You look better than last time.”

“Better?” He cocks his head to the side. The remnants of the tomato smeared a little on his cheek.

“Yeah, healthier.” He stares at you for a second. “Thanks.” His accent is thick, and you still can’t place it. Nevertheless, you understand. Afterwards, much to your surprise, he sleeps in your hut now that his belly is full. Satisfied and strangely not afraid, you follow suit. It’s nice to have a friend, however strange.

You are barely awake, sleep still heavy in your eyes, when you see him pop up. Drool is crusted on his cheek, and he rubs his eyes. He yawns and then spots you next to him. Feitan eyes the entry of the hut then back at you. He puts the only cover you have on you then pets your head. 

  Before he leaves, he places his bat in your hand. Feitan secures the entry as he exits the hut. 

_____________

  It’s been years since you and Feitan have talked. You've gotten familiar with him but when Sarasa had died in such a disrespectful and gruesome way, he withdrew. In the meantime, you waited for him and studied a power you discovered. No matter the eyes that were always on you, you didn’t care about the mysterious and hidden audience. 

  You don’t know what it’s called but it started when you witnessed some kid about to get her ass handed to her by some thugs. The man had moved a pair of scissors without using his hands. They aimed right towards her and in a moment of instinct, you rushed to push her out of the way. Unfortunately, the scissors stabbed you in the shoulder.  

  It was then did you feel the rush of a force so strong, that it knocked everyone away from you. A faint white light that glowed from your skin that only your eyes could see. As you looked around in shock, you saw that same glow coming from that man and his friends. 

  You were gasping when you fell to your knees. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t be here!” The girl your age ran for her life and left you behind. In a moment of fear, you call out to her to help you. You were so afraid; you couldn't tell if the screams were hers or yours. Given the situation, you were too rattled, terrified and hurt, to focus.

The men shook for a second then got up to face you. The blood from your shoulder wasn’t stopping its flow. Crimson red stained your clothes and the ground. It was all so strange, such an unusual feeling of adrenaline that you couldn’t help but memorize. Almost as if the world had finally made sense. Every single thing became so much clearer to your dismay.  

  The men came towards you with malicious intent. While putting pressure on your injury, you managed to kick one of their legs, causing them to buckle and hurt his knee. He screamed in agony. 

  “G-get away!” You try to stand. The press of your hand on the wound isn’t helping. Is it supposed to bleed this much? It hit your shoulder, but did it nick something?  

  You need to stop it, to heal and get away from them. In this city, people like you are in danger from men like them. If you don’t get away, you’ll end up like Sarasa. She was never really close to you. She was a nice girl who always looked for video tapes, so you'd help her from time to time. Yet, her death scarred everyone since it was so close to home. And now, you no doubt are facing the exact same situation. Wrong place, wrong time.  

   Same fate.  

You fell back on the ground and looked at the sky. It has always been so dirty, just like the city due to pollution. Still so young, you know you won’t see what it really looks like. In the corner of your eye, you spot something green. A small clover with four leaves. 

  One time, an old man told a story of how four-leaf clovers are a sign of good luck. By the intense feeling and pressure of your eyes, you know it’s not true. Pain in all ways makes tears fall from your eyes. Lips wobbling at how unfair everything is and that you will never see the sun. The outside must really be heaven, and for someone so young who hasn’t committed a sin, you are wondering if you can go.

  Suddenly, flowers that you never knew blossomed around you. The soft petals touched your filthy skin and got rid of the aches. The blood on your shoulder faded from view as well as the pain. A soft and beautiful hum whispered in your ear. You truly believed it to be in your head, an imagination of paradise as you leave. Heaven, they call it. You must be close to the outside world then. 

  This must be it, you thought. There was no pain from a strike or fear. Just closed eyes and peace. Something you know you couldn’t get in the atrocious city.  

It ends. You were shocked as the beautiful flowers disappeared. Heaven, would you reject someone? 

  The men didn’t hurt you. The one whose knee was broken was able to move his leg. His red hair kind of glowed in the sun, and brown eyes were wide. He muttered a soft ‘thank you’ and walked away without a limp. His friends followed.  

   After that, you had realized that your ability wasn’t anything like scissors or something scary. It was to heal and be healed.

Although after immediately learning this, you didn't go out of your way to find the source of the screams in the direction the people went. First was the girl, then the group of men. After what you went through, it didn't seem like a good idea. 

 Feitan, somehow, got wind of it. Now in his later teen years you both estimate, he sits still and points to his arm. There’s a gnarly gash oozing blood. You wonder how he’s not feeling this and if he is, how he isn’t even fazed.  

  You gently pick up his arm and inspect it. He's thin but has clear definition in his arms. You haven’t seen him in so long that you are surprised by his growth. Hell, he’s taller now. Still short, but at least he grew.  

  In a jar, you take a premade petal. This is a way for you to save energy and reach people when you physically can’t tend to. Acting as a pill, you make sure that people can get infections out. For some reason, illnesses and infections are particularly tricky and tiring for you.  

  “Eat this, Feitan.” He frowns. “No.” You sigh. “It’s infected. You need to eat this so I can heal it right.” 

  “It’s not.”   

Rolling your eyes you bring his wound to his face. “This, this is infected. It's literally oozing pus.” How long did this go on? Was he really that hesitant to just come and see you?

  He growls and takes the delicate petal and places it in his mouth. “Stop pouting.”  

“Not pouting. It’s nasty.” He’s not wrong. It has a bitter taste and when chewed, a slimy texture. The color of the disintegrating petal leaves a stain in the mouth as well. If not for the benefits, no one would even bother. They'd be just as offended as Feitan.  

  The pus stops and clears up. “Alright, this’ll leave a scar.”  

You blow on your hand so that flowing blossoms surround him. Beautiful shades of pink and white go through his hair. With a gentle caress, you see the flurries touch his wound. It starts to encourage his own healing.  

  As much as you want to do the full thing, you’re tired. All day you’ve been working and collecting payments. Not to mention facing the disappointment of them being useless. You want to kick yourself for not getting paid first. But the sight of those grateful people and healed kids softens your heart.  

  Soon, it stops once the injury becomes manageable. You’re about to wrap it when a hand stops you. “What’s this?”  

  “Feitan, I'm tired. You caught me at a bad time.” You try to move your hand but he stops you. He's a lot stronger than you remember. “Heal.” 

His fluency isn’t the greatest still.  

“I’m tired! Just let it heal the rest of the way.” No matter how much you try to yank your hand away, his grip is too strong. “Please, Feitan...”  

  Surprisingly, he lets go and from what you can see, the subtle white glow appears and heals him the rest of the way, leaving small flames. “Feitan...what was that?” 

  He rolls his eyes and plops down on a chair. He says nothing and just relaxes, or at least that’s what he’s trying to make it seem like. It has been a while since you’ve seen him, but that doesn’t make you blind to his behaviors…sometimes. 

   “As a transmuter, I can heal a little by using enhancer,” He looks at you suspiciously. “You know nothing about nen?”

“Nen?” You put the gauze and other items in a black bag. It was found in the safe zone by the church. Apparently, it belonged to a doctor from the outside. The bag had all kinds of necessities. Gauze, medicine, some syringes, disinfectant, a thermometer, all kinds of stuff that you’ve had to use sparingly. What you save in the bag, you make up for with your ability. 

  He smacks his lips and calls you a ‘dumb brat’. “You use nen but don’t know it?”

Sighing, you ask, “What is nen, Feitan?” 

“What you do. Use your aura and stuff.” His arms are crossed, and he looks at you expectantly. You gather that he likes knowing things you don’t. It’s like a weak power trip. 

  But it is nice to finally have a name and explanation for it. And that’s what he did this time. Visiting you for a moment just to pick with you while teaching you something you should have known. 

“Wait, if you could do that, why’d you come here?” He just shrugs.

------

When you see him again, he brings his friends along. You immediately recognize some of them. Phinks, who ran with Feitan, the boy who always collected books, and Uvogin, the giant who was always claiming territory and beating people up. 

  Feitan should be twenty now. It’s hard to tell since he looks youthful. He points to his friend, the boy with the books, and orders, “Heal.”

“You can do it, Feitan, remember?” You were in the middle of cleaning when he and the rest of his posse pop up. They look flustered and a little worse for wear. 

  “Heal.” He always does crap like this. You roll your eyes at first. The body they carry tugs on your strings a bit. 

“Fine. Put him on the table.” Thankfully, it’s cleaned, and a new wrapping has been placed on it. Gently, the man is put on it. You spot the cross tattoo on his forehead. Ah, that’s where Feitan has been. Lately, there’s been whispers of the Phantom Troupe. Merciless killers and thieves from Meteor City that have been gaining respect over the years. Your opinion of them isn’t the greatest but it also isn’t the worst. You appreciate them for standing up for Meteor City, but their methods are questionable.

   You sigh and begin to undress the boy with the cross. “Is that necessary?” 

You continue to pull off his clothes, not bothering to answer the question the girl asked. If she can’t understand why you need to remove his clothes, then that’s on her. She scoffs after another female voice answers her question. 

  You finally see his wound. Feitan can heal himself to a degree, but you don’t think this guy can. The gash is deep and sewed with makeshift stitches. There’s no nen involved, surprisingly. Given that Feitan is an avid user, you thought his friends would be keen on it too. 

“He’s a specialist. Enhancer techniques are harder for him.” Phinks spoke. He must've understood your confusion. 

“And the stitches?” You gently investigate the area. It’s an angry red around it and, like you suspected, infected. It wasn’t properly taken care of. You begin to remove the stitches. You wonder what the thread is made of and how long this has been going on. 

“He,” Phinks points to Uvogin. “And him,” He then points to another large man with long ears. “Thought they could do it. Normally, Machi heals us but they were away from her. Her stitches would have helped him but not any infections.”

  “Ah, well this requires more than I thought.” You touch the ground and out comes a beautiful swirl of flowers. Underneath the moving petals is a blooming sunflower. It picks the guy up so he rests on it. The bed of the flower glows softly and becomes warm. His once wincing face is now peaceful. His injury is slowly closing and the red is beginning to turn pink. 

“The downside of this is that it takes a while. It’ll be all healed up in about an hour or so.”

“ An hour?” Uvogin, who has abandoned his afro and traded it for long standing hair. “Feitan, I thought you said she was good? We could’ve gone to that one guy and got it done right then and there.”

“She’s the best. Wait.” His hands are in his pockets and he moves. Feitan looks around and touches whatever he pleases. You try not to focus on his compliment. You wonder if the reason he moved from your line of sight is because he got embarrassed. If so, you won’t tease him. The Troupe are killers, afterall. 

   You start to feel the weight of your nen. This technique requires more effort than the others. Feitan explained it to you but you never did get the hang of it. You just know what to do instinctively. You were proud that you could do any of this without a teacher.

 What you’re sure of is that this man, whatever his name is, is giving you a crap ton of money after this or there’ll be hell to pay. 

   You feel something tickling the side of your face. The wrapper is red and unopened. You take the energy bard gratefully. “Thank you, Feitan.”

A couple of the Troupe members complain about the time. Machi or Mochi or whatever, the pink haired one, especially complains and criticizes for some reason. You have never seen this person before in your life yet here she is pouting. 

  “You okay?” You see the blond boy with big blue eyes study you closely. He moves closer to your face. A smile never leaves his face. Before you can answer, Feitan, who hasn’t left your side since you ate the bar, answers for you. 

“She’s fine. I’m watching her.”

You hear a couple of snickers. Feitan glares daggers at the offenders. You take a deep breath and ignore the friends who decided to crowd inside your hut. The boy with the forehead tattoo lies peacefully. Although you are running out of steam, his wound is healing nicely. One of the women, you believe it’s Pakunoda, comes to you and bends down. 

“Can I get you anything?” You discover that your throat is absolutely parched. “Some water, please.”

  If you remember correctly, the last you saw of her was when her head was shaved and some outsider kid did it. She had always kept it short. And now, it’s on her shoulders and very sleek. Over the years she’s drastically changed.

  You drink the water, which to your surprise, is clean. “Hey, how did this happen anyway?”

  “Don’t ask questions.” Feitan quickly shuts you down. Before you can ask anything more, you notice the entire group of friends are quiet. 

  “It’s nothing for you to worry about, okay?” You nod at the blonde boy with blue eyes and a permanent smile. Completing the hour, the tattoo guy is up. He’s immediately impressed. “My name’s Chrollo Lucilfer. Yours?” He puts out his hand for you to shake. 

  “Yeah, the book collector-theater nerd-kid, right? My name’s-” Before you can even answer, Feitan does it for you. 

  He gives your name and how your Nen works. He’s quick with it, too. You side eye Feitan for a second. “Thanks, Feitan. I, uh, really needed a spokesperson.”

“Ah, I guess it can’t be helped then, Feitan?” There’s tension in the air. It’s thick and heavy. By the looks of it, neither one is backing down. “Um, it’s not a big deal that he answered for me, you do know that, right?”

  Seconds pass through this. You look around for anyone to intervene with this. Whatever the hell is going on, it’s deep. “Since Fei explained it, why not have her join?”

“Positions are filled.” Chrollo still stares directly into Feitan’s eyes. Phinks nervously chuckles, once again trying to defuse the situation. “Fei, come on. No fighting. Right boss?”

  Suddenly, it’s lifted. Chrollo has what looks like a practiced smile on his face. “That’s true. That’s a rule.”

  Chrollo takes a glance at you. “She obviously means a lot to you. Clearly, she’s an asset, too.”

  “I’m right here, jackass.” Feitan smacks you on the head. “I’ll handle her.” 

  The others sigh in relief. Momentarily, you’re a little offended. “It was nice meeting you.”

They exit your hut right after, leaving Feitan behind. “So. those were your friends, huh?”

“Watch tongue.” You smack your lips and roll your eyes. There is blood on the floor and on the table. The furniture is in disarray due to all of his friends having no home training.  “I haven’t seen you in forever and this is how you greet me?”

 He frowns. “I say hello all the time.” You turn to him. “When? I didn’t see you.”

Feitan huffs and kicks the ground lightly. You get up to move the furniture back to place. Your movements are slow and everything seems so much heavier. Everything is swirling right before your eyes. Your head hurts and yet feels so light. Before you meet the ground, Feitan takes you to the couch and lays you down. 

  “I haven’t seen you in so long, little boy…” Those were the last words you say before you drift to sleep. 

Hours later, you wake up at the sound of birds. There is a beautiful blue blanket on you with golden yellow designs. It’s thick and so warm you could stay forever. You’ve never owned anything like this. 

  Slowly you get up and search for Feitan. He’s nowhere to be found much to your dismay. Last night’s conversation still stays with you. He insisted that he says hello all the time. That he sees you regularly, yet, you haven’t seen him at all. 

  The blanket, the wind chime, the medical supplies, the various decorations with stones, paint and if you weren’t smart, you’d say gold. Could Feitan have been the one to give you gifts? Silently watching over you and in his own way, saying hello? You have felt like you were being watched for years. 

____________

  “Do you understand why I didn’t welcome you?”

“No, and I never will. Now please, leave me alone.” You feel convicted by turning a man of God away, but can he truly be one when he left a child to suffer? You were in the cold, wind, and rain, alone in one of the worst parts of the city. All you had was Feitan, and he was there once in a blue moon. After the rejection from the church, you took it upon yourself to care for others as no one had ever cared for you. Although hurt and afraid, you chose not to spread that toxicity. You decided that no matter the size of change, it still works. 

 However, you will not fall prey to the same people. For instance, that girl you saved and this priest. How can he expect your services with no repentance or atonement? You forgive, but like hell will you forget. 

Damn…you were so sure you were over the pain of your past. That the change you made within yourself and how you treat people so no one else suffers like you, would stick. Alas, all it takes is one person to bring it down. You want to kick yourself because of the regression. Then again, the hostility isn’t your fault.

You walk into the hallway with small statues, stone walls, and large windows. The sun shines brightly through them, making the church seem prettier than it is.

“Please-”

“She said no.” Feitan stands with his hands in his pockets, the sun shining on his pale skin. It has been a few months since the incident with Chrollo. You haven’t seen any of them but have felt eyes on you, which you have deduced was Feitan. However, you learned the truth of the blanket. The name stitched on it belonged to an old clan, the Kurta, that was mutilated, tortured, and murdered by the Phantom Troupe. It disgusts you. The blanket is comfortable but still. 

Feitan, the boy who you taught to tie his shoes, gave you a trophy of his crime. You wanted to burn it, or bury it in the memory of the Kurta, yet you couldn’t. It’s a gift from the one consistent person in your life. Your protector and giver. So, you folded it and put it in a box. 

   Now, here he is like he’s done nothing wrong. Defending you and putting the man that’s been with the city for ages in his place. You’re shocked at his behavior. 

  “Feitan, surely you must understand!” 

“Shut up.” Father Rizole took a step back in surprise. Feitan was one of his regulars, if you remember correctly. This must be a surprise for the aging priest. 

You hum at the scene. Even though the rumors of what the Troupe has done bothers you, it doesn’t mean you aren’t opposed to the benefits. The priest backs up and sighs. 

“If you ever reconsider, please, let me know. We could use your help.”

“I could’ve used it too.” You end the conversation there and leave. Feitan soon follows you. He’s silent on his feet and very fast. Feitan was behind you but his quick feet caught up in less than a second. Now, he walks right at your side. 

“So, you just decide when you want to see me?” 

Feitan shrugs. “I don’t know.” 

Sighing, you turn to him and ask, “What do you need this time?” The lower half of his face is hiding under a plain cowl now. His eyes show all of the emotion needed. “I just hang out.”

  The sun is too hot for this nonsense. Sweat trickles down your face and back, becoming sticky. “So that’s why you’re here, right? I’m shocked.”

Before he can say your name, you continue. “Oh! And let's not forget the little massacre that took place, huh? Yeah, being used to heal your friend from that was really fun.”

“I didn’t.”

 You roll your eyes. “No, just that one guy. That’s who to you, again?”

“Boss.” You scoff at his short answer. Then, you think about the possibility. “Your boss? Then…doing that to the Kurta, wasn’t your idea, was it?”

“No, not mine.” His hands remain in his pockets. His hair blows in the wind slightly. You realize he hasn’t gotten a haircut in a while. 

“If you could, you know, go back in time…would you still do it?”

“Yes.” No hesitation, no thought put into the answer. Just a plain as day answer and a tone that leaves no room for an explanation. 

“So whatever he wants he just gets? As long as it aligns with your twisted mind, right?”

  His eyes grow darker. “I save you.”

You point to the church. “No, no you didn’t. That guy wasn’t going to do anything to me. I had it handled.”

Shaking your head, you go to leave until a hand wraps around your wrist. “Boss takes nen. I didn’t let him.”

  Was that what that was? That tension that day that was suffocating? Remembering that day, you start to form pieces. “Would he hurt you if you didn’t go along with his schemes?”

“No.” 

Well there goes that idea. “Nevermind.”

You try to yank your wrist from his grip, but it’s iron tight. “Let me go!”

“I protect you, always. Bad people here, everywhere. I get dirty for you.” His face is indifferent but his words give it away. The plea for you to understand and realize, dare you say, his devotion to his friends. Does this include you?

Is that what it is? What friendship, this connection is? You are aware of the deeds the Troupe do. You understand why they thought it would be a good idea (somewhat anyway). 

“Thank you, then.” He lets go of your wrist which was grabbed painfully tight. He trades that in for holding your hand instead. You are shocked at first, but if you make it a big deal, he’ll stop. You don’t want him to right now. 

  Not when you feel safe. You still want to kick yourself… and maybe throw in a punch.

_____

Apparently, the Troupe have gone their separate ways for now. They don’t cling onto each other for a long period of time after a job. It’s better that way since it has a lesser chance of them getting caught. They still hang out from time to time, though. 

For you, you managed to get out of Meteor City after the argument with the priest. Feitan had gone to do another heist with Phinks, if you remember right. You took that moment to skip town. You never wanted to stay in the trash, anyway. 

  And you were right to! Everything you thought of as a child about the world outside was true! Sure, people can be rude and things can be corrupt, but you’re fed and resting. There are bright lights and kind people. It can be clean and the soap smells so good. Just the other day you got to experience a nail salon. Rather than stealing from you, the lady next to you, Jade, talked about her family. Her daughter is Ruby and her wife is Scarlet. Jade and Scarlet want another child. You offered the name Emerald. 

  In Meteor City, you would’ve had to fight. Now, you are making friends and offering beautiful names. It’s a stark contrast that is fully welcomed. 

  The sun is bright and the moon is sometimes round. It doesn’t always attract evil and can sometimes sing such a beautiful melody. There are pearls and diamonds. There are seasonings that make the food taste unbelievably good. It’s all expensive, but infinitely better than Meteor. 

And Nen is a secret here. In the city, many knew about it and used it without discretion. Here it’s different. Like a secret identity for a hero. Your nen in particular isn’t used as much as it was before. Your ability was so tiring. Pretty and incredibly useful, but exhausting nonetheless. 

  It has been a few years since you saw him, but he’s seen you. He found you quickly, too. When you came home from your office job (which you are still ecstatic about, by the way) you noticed a new painting in your house. It was dull and in black and white. The painting is of a few plants that take the center stage. Actually, they’re your nen plants. In the background is what looks like your old city. Piles of rubbish and polluted air in black swirls. There are clouds above and a dark sun barely poking out. 

  It’s sad. Beautiful, but sad. You have wondered what he meant by it. You open the door to your apartment. It’s not much and one day you want to get a house. 

  The keys make a jingle when you set them on the countertop. The apartment is still dark, so you scramble to flip the switch. “Why you leave?”

You scream at the top of your lungs. Standing there nonchalantly is Feitan, who you haven’t had contact with in a hot minute. His hair is even longer than before. He wears a new cowl that has a skull on it over his face. His trench coat looks a little too big for him but he wears it well anyway. 

  “Uh, because I live here? What are you doing here?” You set your bag down and take off your short heels. Although he’s a murderer, you still feel safe with him. 

 He takes slow strides towards you. “ Why? I looked for you and you weren’t there.”

“You knew where I was. I got your presents,” You point to the painting. He hides his face a little in the fabric. “I like it by the way. Did you do it?”

“Shut up.” You sigh and walk into your kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

 You begin to wash the rice. Your eyes switch from looking down to taking obvious glances at him. Right about now, he should be in his mid twenties. It’s amazing how long you’ve known each other. You remember him as that kid who didn’t know how to tie his shoes and him teaching you about Nen. Time flies so fast when you least expect it. 

  You crack the eggs and whisk them. The sound of the utensil against the bowl and the sizzle of the tomatoes in the pan is all that is heard. Feitan doesn’t make one sound. He opts to stare at you working and even has a glint in his eye which you think could be satisfaction. 

  “Do you still like this, by the way? I remember you snatching it.” You try not to smile at the memory. 

 “I do.” He hovers in your kitchen, just waiting, watching you do all of the work. Stingy bastard. After adding the seasonings, you could have never gotten in Meteor City, you fix him a plate. He happily accepts it and sits down on the floor. 

“I have a tab-” Oh, the memory. Allowing yourself to smile, you sit with him and eat off of his plate. “We’re sharing. ”

 He gives a slight growl but doesn’t do anything. “So, what brings you by?”

“I say hello.” You hum with a mouth full of food. “Well, hello to you too, little boy.”

He gives you a light kick. The two of you finish the plate. Both full, you just lay back and talk. 

“How long are you staying?” 

“Not long.” You’ll miss him. “Running from the cops again?”

“Need to hide out for a bit.” You nod, accepting his answer and that your connection will probably always be sweet moments. “It’s nice to have you here, even only for a moment.”

  Feitan taps you again with his foot. “I’m always here. I say hello all the time.” You know and are fully aware of what he means. His odd little gifts decorate your house. To bones, to rugs, even a china set he stole. It’s routine for him to give you something, even when you don’t see him. 

“Even though you run.” He kicks you again. The more you watch him, the more your chest tightens. He’s the only consistent thing in your life. Everything is fleeting. Your job is new as well as your relationship with your coworkers. But there is a line with them. Feitan is different.

  “How long are we going to do this dance?”

“I don’t dance.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “I mean you coming by once in a blue moon.” 

  He shrugs. “I don’t know.” You nod. “Figures.”

He frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, that this whole thing is tiring. You come and go like some kind of feral cat.”

  “So?”

You sputter, “ So I don’t appreciate it.” He takes off his long coat and reveals his chest, next goes his shoes. “I sleep here.”

“You can’t use me!” He gets up and goes in the direction of your room. “Feitan!” You pick up his clothes and set them aside. “Do you hear me? I wasn’t done talking!”

  On your bed is a sprawled out Feitan. He looks at you with squinted eyes. “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

  Like always, he makes himself at home. You sigh, giving up on trying to talk to him. “Move over.” 

  He scoffs and reluctantly moves out of your way. You feel him tense up as you lay down. “This is my bed. I can sleep here.”

  You face each other as you lay down. Neither of you say anything about how close you are. This is probably the closest you’ve ever been since you helped him tie his shoes the second time. You feel his eyes on you, making you nervous. “Stop staring at me.”

  “Never sleep with someone in a while.” You know. The last time was with you, no doubt. At the time, you didn't think about it, if you remember correctly. It's hard to tell since it's been so long. 

“The couch is that way.” He smacks his lips. “No, you go.” You open your eyes. 

“Like I said, this is my bed.” Feitan doesn’t say anything about your ownership. Instead, he’s honest with you. “I’m tired.”

  Instantly, you start to feel a little bad. In the city, no child was ever able to fully sleep. It was too dangerous, especially in the more dangerous districts. Him being honest about his state, you take it as a step. 

  “If you want to, I’ll be on the lookout.” His hands are next to yours. You grab them, just like he did those few years ago. “You can sleep now, Feitan.” 

  You don’t know when, don’t know how either, but you two do end up sleeping. His eyes are closed and his breath even. Your eyes flutter open and see that he’s got slight dark under eyes and his mouth leaking drool. Feitan looks peaceful, sleepy, like he hasn’t done this in a while. 

  The next morning, he’s gone with no evidence he was even there.

_________________

  You watch on the tv screen above the bank about the attack on York New, a city not too far from you. The attack happened a few days ago but it’s still in the headlines. You don’t blame them, to be honest. It was an insane event that over two thousand people died! 

  You cling onto your boyfriend’s arm. He touches your hand reassuringly. His watch gleams in the moonlight and his suit is perfectly pressed. He's the entire package, he’s perfect. A good job, good manners, an honest man, and treats you well, too. He always holds the chair out for you and gets up when you leave the room. Just like a true gentleman. 

  When you first met, it was a classic coffee shop romance. Then it blossomed into a romantic and expensive dinner, the movies, a nighttime walk in the park, all of the classic dates. In every single one of them he was the perfect gentleman, the perfect man. You like him and how he treats you. How consistent he is. He's the type of man you can rely on. 

  Nevertheless, there is a bothersome voice in the back of your head that reminds you of someone he just isn’t. He’s not Feitan Portor. You don’t feel the contentment Feitan gives when the two of you sleep. You don’t study your boyfriend’s features like you did Feitan.

Dammit, why are you thinking of him? He’s not around and you haven’t seen him in what? Two or three years? So why think of him now. Plus, you haven’t received a gift or a ‘hello’ from him. For all you know, he could be dead.

  “Are you alright?” You wake from your thoughts and look at your boyfriend. His hair is dark, blending in with the night. Eyes kind and green, a Grecian nose, and average sized lips revealing a dazzling smile. Not only is the very essence of him suave, but his looks are also perfect. Tall and handsome, well dressed and a smooth voice. 

It's just that one five foot one pest that won’t get out of your head. 

  “Y-yeah just…it’s all so shocking. York New is literally over there.” You point past the river where more tall buildings reside in the distance.

“I know, I know.” He brings you in close to him. He places a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.” 

Suddenly, the newscaster stops mid sentence and gasps. Before you know it, the Phantom Troupe have been named the offenders that caused all of this. Two thousand people. Feitan, did you really kill that many people?

“I would like to go home. I don’t feel the greatest.” He rubs your arm, you still being tucked into his side. Your excuse was a lie to cover the gnawing feeling towards Feitan and his deeds. Although the Phantom Troupe’s original intentions were from a decent stand point, it seems they’ve lost their way. Feitan has lost his way. 

  The gifts have stopped coming, him no longer saying hello. After the last time, when you made him familiar food and sat in a comfortable silence, he disappeared. This time, there was something about it that hurt. Like he didn’t want to come around. He didn’t want to say hello anymore. Or perhaps, he died which if confirmed, you would ache beyond help. 

  “The Phantom Troupe is dead.” The newscaster said. The crowd gasped, shocked that the most feared criminals in the world are gone. Did you jinx it? Curse the little boy who needed you to tie his shoes. The boy who liked your cooking and made sure you rested. Had strong faith in you, never doubting. Protected you from the shadows and held your hand. 

  Is he really gone? 

You hide your face in your boyfriend’s jacket. Tears stream from your eyes at the thought of his grave. With the Troupe, his friends dead, you’d be the only one to truly mourn him. To remember his name beyond his violence. 

You clutch your chest. “Are you okay? Does your chest hurt?” He grabs you by your shoulders, making you face him. He’s such a kind, decent man. But he’s not Feitan Portor. 

  “I just need to rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.” You give him a chaste kiss goodbye. Once he leaves, your chest hurts even more. You slide down as you look around at all the menace’s little gifts. The painting, the skull, the windchimes, everything he’s given you. Why, oh why, couldn’t you stay here long enough for your gift, Feitan?

Wait, what could you have given him anyway? He’s a thief that takes what he pleases and has nothing to wish for. 

You lay on your couch and put your arm over your face. The tears refuse to stop for even just a second. You don’t know what you’re crying harder for. Feitan or the confusing feelings for him. Now that he’s gone, you can’t properly tell him. How can you explain it? 

  It’s heavy on your chest and tightens it. You want to feel his body heat no matter how hot the day is. There are no small flutters in your stomach at the thought of him. No, it's something in your heart. You want to stare at him, to memorize every feature he has. To hear his soft voice that is just a centimeter away from a whisper. Just melt in his touch, his presence. Wait, why is this happening? You barely knew him! Does that fact even matter though?

 You slip your hand in your underwear, still staring at the ceiling, sniffling at the news of his death. You imagine the future. Seeing him walk into your house and setting his belongings on the table. Wrapping his arms around you and kissing your back. No matter how long you’ve known him, his stature never fails to amuse you. He’d paw at your body, tearing off your clothes. Feitan wouldn’t hesitate to use his hands for your pleasure. 

  You trace your fingers in the direction you think he’d go. Curling your fingers inside, thrusting them in harshly, knowing that he can only be gentle in his own way. Your back arches from the couch. You swear you can smell him and the faint metallic scent that he holds. The feeling of his ragged breath on your cheek you could swear is real. 

  You moan as you take that jump you’ve searched for. Thinking of how good Feitan would make you feel. You're relentless on yourself, still going as strong as he’d be. Adding another finger, going faster and faster on your clit. Your moaning gets louder as the indiscernible amount of time goes on. 

‘ The Phantom Troupe is dead.’

You crash on the couch with one last gasp. The dream of the two of you ends in flames. The house, the passion, the years that go by in that home. Maybe even a child or two. Seeing him in the morning with a groggy voice is gone. Rubbing his eyes and saying he wants more eggs and tomatoes is no longer there.

  What would your gift be to Feitan? Memories? Sex? Food? Nothing fits. He can have those with anyone. 

  You slip yourself out from your underwear. It didn’t distract you. Perhaps if you thought of your boyfriend, it would have. But the feelings you have towards Feitan went beyond physical. What is this? What do you call this?

  Love? Time stops at the realization. It has to be that. That would have been your gift to him. Love. You cover your mouth as you admit it to yourself. 

'I love you Feitan Portor. I won’t forget you. I love your messed up hair and soft voice. For how you didn’t reject me when the world did. I will do the same for you. I’ll look past your torturous ways and miss you anyway. Maybe the world will curse you, but I’ll mourn you. Bury you so no one can spit on you anymore. I love you Feitan. 

   I’m in love with you Feitan Portor. This is my gift to you. For you to know that you will not be forgotten even though I never got to tell you, to thank you for everything. For leaving the baseball bat with me to protect myself. For painting that picture for me. All of the little gifts you thought I’d like, too. Thank you for protecting me from the priest and the wolves that hunted me every day when we were young.'

You stare at the ceiling till the earliest of mornings. It’s still dark, still heavy with the night sky. There’s some rumbling in the distance, a flash of light in the sky. You don’t bother to confirm anything. 

Just as you close your eyes, the window opens with a creak. You move your eyes to see the figure before you. The darkness covers it, only leaving the silhouette. “Why cry?”

You squint, trying to make out the features.  “Are you real?”

“Very.” It must be a lie. A cruel humor the world has. “Stop crying.” 

“I can’t. Not when you sound like him.” The figure cocks his head, that much you can see with the flash of lightning behind him. “Him?”

“Someone who can’t tie his shoes.” Your lip wobbles again. “I can tie them now.” The moon glows enough to show his face now as he steps up to you. Feitan’s delicate features peek out from his cowl. 

 You shake your head in denial. “It’s not real. It can’t be. You’re dead, Fei.” Your voice is hoarse from your sobs. 

  He looks shocked at your words. The man who looks like Feitan smacks your feet off the end of the couch so he can sit. 

“I’ll miss you Feitan Portor.” The longer you stare at the imaginary man, the more you hurt. “Well, stop.”

  He roughly wipes away the tears. “Ugly when you cry.” His face is close to yours. Since he’ll be gone by the time you come to your senses, you grab his face and kiss him. He sharply inhales, not expecting your sudden decision. 

  He growls against your lips, “Stupid brat.” 

  He feels real. He smells real, familiar too. You tell him such and with furrowed brows and a strong grip of his hand, he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. “I’m real, you idiot.”

“They said you died…” You comb his hair through your fingers. It’s real, he's real . So, what’s going on? Before you can ask him, he cradles you. “Stop crying or I’ll go.”

  Your lips wobble at his threat. Rather than listening to it, you hug him. He nestles on top of you, hips placed between yours. He’s light, lighter than you thought so it isn’t a bother.

  “You’re so ugly when you cry. Don’t cry.” He holds you closer and kisses your head. Against your ear, you feel his lips move. You can’t tell what he’s mouthing. When the two of you comfortably slept those years ago, that was the closest you’ve been. Now, this beats that record. Face to face, body to body, and sharing breaths. 

  After a few moments of thunder and lightning, he kisses you gently. Not at all like the desperate one like before. Realistically, you know these feelings you have for him seem fake. You’ve only had a few moments with him. So, why are they so significant? Are they with him too? Is it possible that love can blossom quickly?

  Gentle kisses turn passionate, never wanting to separate. Little nibbles on the right places and sucks on all of the best ones. Clothes leave, not wanting to get between the two friends, those who dance around each other. For the first time, they meet. 

His hands reach your throat as he kisses you, making sure to give it a light squeeze. His weight is still on you, not hurting in the slightest. Feitan makes sure his hand reaches below and swirls his thumb on your bud. You gasp, surprised you were right about how he’d do it. Every ministration he does is exactly how it was pictured. Your hands don’t compare to it. Not by a long shot. 

  Despite his size, his hands are still bigger than yours. They reach deeper than you and are thicker too. In no time, you come, the bliss lasting a good minute before he sheathes himself inside. His thickness is more than you thought. It’s a bit of a stretch, but in a good way. 

  His gasps quicken with every thrust. You can tell that you're being loud, way louder than when you touched yourself. Feeling the rush and strength of his movements has you claw his back in ecstasy. He groans at the sensation. Finally, after this time of passion and intimacy, you both hold each other as you fall off of that cliff.

  Feitan looks into your eyes. With a softness that no one in the world could’ve predicted the torturer of the Phantom Troupe to have, kisses you. “Don’t cry anymore. Don’t cry.”

 “It’s hard not to when I know you’ll leave.” Silently, Feitan removes himself from inside you. It’s become routine, so you expect him to walk out. He lays back down, his head on your stomach. You run your fingers through his hair. He needs a haircut. 

--

 You wake up, not realizing that you went asleep in the first place. Before you can get up, you feel pressure on your stomach. Feitan rests on you still, eyes completely closed and his face peaceful. The two of you are naked and the only source of heat is each other. As much as you want to wrap your arms around him, you know he’ll react negatively or at least flinch. 

  Soon after, he stretches and rubs his face against your stomach. Like before, he drooled in his sleep. “Good morning.” 

He grunts in response and sits up on his heels. It takes him a moment to remember the night before. His eyes widen as he looks you up and down, making you highly aware of your current state. You cover yourself with a blanket draped over the couch. 

  “I have to go.” Ah, right. He’s a cat. 

He gets dressed. Once he has his boots on, you see him tie them the way you taught him. “Proud of you. You finally learned huh?”

 “Brat.” You laugh a little at him. Once he’s done you ask, “Will I ever see you again?"

He cradles your face. “I come back.” You nod, holding back tears. He studies your face and settles on your eyes. He must have realized that you were trying not to cry. His hands still remain on your face as he kisses you. He lingers there for a minute. A parting kiss, a meaningful one. 

  Something tells you that this feral cat isn’t going away anytime soon. That he’ll always be constant and you won’t be totally alone. A companion you won’t see everyday and only for a night. 

 This is the gift you’ll give him. You’ll be home for him. 

___________________

Months later, news about the Chimera Ants came out. You had already broken up with your boyfriend and heard he had left town to avoid them. Of course, you followed suit and got the hell out of there. 

  Without any plan, you moved back to Meteor City, where you thought that they wouldn’t be. Alas, that was stupid. You made a home base in the residential area. Not knowing that Meteor City was plagued by the wretched beasts. 

  By God’s grace, you managed to avoid them due to you being in the residential district. News that the Phantom Troupe were home to fight them ran rampant. The thought of Feitan made you nervous and you don’t know why. 

  Suddenly, right as you put away your dishes, the door opened. You grabbed a knife and faced the intruder. Standing there was the Phantom Troupe, who once again, barged into your home like they owned the place. 

  “What the hell?” You shout. The first one is Phinks with a wide smile. “There she is! Fei, I found her!”

  You put your hand on your hip. “Seriously, what are you doing her-you’re dragging in mud, take off your shoes!”

 “It’s only a little.” Phinks pouts. “I don’t care! You don’t live here.” 

Phinks and his friends grumble as they do as they’re told. The last one to enter the house is Feitan, who is notably holding his left arm. Without being told, he removes his shoes. 

  “Feitan…” He hasn’t faced you yet. “What happened to your arm?” 

“I’m injured too, (Y/n)!” The smiling boy with round eyes whines. You have no idea what his name is. Only that he and the rest are in Feitan’s gang. 

  “Alright, let me see.” He lays down on your clean table and says, “It’s all over. I need the full treatment!” 

  “Ugh, fine.” You grumble under your breath about the disrespect and your poor table. Finally, Feitan sits on one of the pushed aside chairs. He says, “I need it too.”

  “Big babies.” 

You heal the biggest cry baby completely. The blond, whose name you now know as Shalnark, stretches. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been hurting all day!”

  Rolling your eyes, you turn to Feitan who has been silent. He holds out his arm for you. You take the limb and inspect it. 

 “Completely shattered.” He grunts in agreement. He stares into your eyes and gives you a familiar slight smile. You notice that his friends are quiet, not a sound or word among them. 

“You guys alright?” You ask. The girl shakes her head yes and ‘whispers’ to the rest. “Should we leave them alone?”

  “Probably.” A mummy with boxing gloves answers. You’ve never seen him before in your life. 

“Uh, we’ll check the place out. Y’know, make sure it’s safe.” Shalnark shoos the little kid out and into a separate room, your bedroom. “We’ll clear this out in case you guys need it!”

  You huff and roll your eyes. Feitan’s cheeks are red and he’s glaring daggers at his friends. The girl goes outside with the remaining three to check the area. You and your feral cat are alone. 

“What are they checking for? I’m in a residential area.” 

“Ants.” 

  “They’re here? In the safe zone?” You begin to panic until he grabs your hand. “You’re safe now. They’re not in the city anymore.”

“Wha-how? What’s going on?”

  He pinches you lightly, encouraging you to heal his wounds. “Oh, right, right.” Flowers of all colors circle around. They begin to smooth over Feitan’s wounds. You take a second to wipe the blood off of his lip, letting there be some room for the petals to go. 

“How’s the other guy look?”

“She's toasted.” You smile. “Atta boy.”

  He’s healed, the petals and flowers disappear. You lick your lips at the sight of his bare chest. You didn’t notice before due to the audacity of these heathens barging in. 

  His heart rate quickens. “You leave again.”

You nod. “Yeah, yeah I did. I had to, Fei. the Chimera Ants invaded. I had to run.”

“With your boyfriend?”

You let out a small gasp. “ No. How do you know that?” He crosses his arms and leans back in the chair. “You lie.”

“I didn’t lie to you. I just never said anything.”

  “Words of a liar.” You scoff at him. “I did not lie to you. I lied to him. You don’t have any business with our relationship.”

At first, he was looking at his lap. Those grey eyes of his immediately found a new target to glare at. “You’re not with him anymore. ”

“No. Why does that matter?” He begins to tap his foot lightly. “Why did you break up?” 

  “You hungry?” You start to get up until you’re tugged down. “Why?”

When you don’t answer, he whispers in your ear. “Because I fucked you?” Your face is so warm. 

“If we run, we can still make it out.”

“Why are we running?” A small voice asks.

“Because I think they need the room.” 

“Will you two shut up?!” You are two seconds away from running out of your own damn house. You stand and his hands hold you by your hips. “Tell me why you leave him?”

  “Because of you.” It’s embarrassing to tell him your feelings. Hopefully, he can read your mind or something and shut up. He sighs and stands, walking over to you without a hitch. He kisses you. 

  “That’s what you get for lying.” He’s not remorseful or even boastful. Feitan takes your answer in stride. “No more leaving. Stay so I can find you.”

“You’ll always find me, remember?”

______________

Time after that, you were stuck in charge of Chrollo’s lover or something. She’s not too bad but clearly traumatized. Anytime you’d tell her to go with you, she’d look shocked. Like she was surprised she could leave. You were suspicious of her relationship with Chrollo. Something didn’t sit right with you whenever he or Feitan came up. She’d tense up. She never talked about it either. From what you understand with the little information you have, is that she was a former member that raised an orphan and that Chrollo loved her immensely. Perhaps too much.

  From what you know, there was a big showdown on the Dark Continent and the boat that was taking a voyage to the fake one. The Phantom Troupe were on that one at first, fighting Hisoka Marrow. He was a sore loser that got humbled and decided to attack again. 

  Amazingly, only a few died. You didn’t want to know the details or anything. You can’t go through that again. So, after that news, you and Chrollo’s lover parted ways. She went on to find a kid she raised. You, on the other hand, decided to settle out of Meteor City. This was almost a year ago.

  You have an apartment now in the town where you and your boyfriend lived, right next to York New. It’s basic, not fitting any aesthetic or anything. The good thing about it is that it’s bigger than your first one. It’s two bedroom and has a good price. 

   Feitan hasn’t reappeared. It tore you to shreds. You’ve managed to piece yourself together bit by bit, but you are a hollow version of yourself. Surviving and not enjoying the little things you used to. You even saw Jade, Scarlet, Ruby, and the new child, Emerald. Even that heartwarming moment didn’t fulfill you. However, it was the first time you smiled in a while. 

  You stir the food in the pot. Since it’s a little chilly, you made soup. You put the lid over the pot, letting it cook. There’s a knock on the door. You open it and see the man you’ve waited for. 

  Feitan is in dark clothing and has a large scar on his face. There’s no cowl over him, or a large trench coat. His hands are in his pockets, and he looks at you expectantly. You realize that you’ve just been standing there, you move to let him in. Once again, he makes himself at home. 

  “How’ve you been?” 

“You leave again.” He states bluntly. His eyebrows are furrowed and has a frown on his face. 

“Bold of you, very bold.” You move around him. “Why did you go?”

“Because I’d never stay in that city forever. The Ants were gone, the world settled. So why couldn’t I? That place is gross anyway.”

  He sits on the barstool and cracks his neck. You ask a question right after he sits. “How long you here for?”

You don’t know why you asked that. He’ll only be here for a moment. A while ago, you had made the decision to accept it as your gift to him. To love and mourn him when the world won’t. When news about the Phantom Troupe hit, you couldn’t bear to hear it. Their trip to the fake Dark Continent, then their corrected course to the right one, ended in a battle with them facing Hisoka and Illumi and everything else over there. 

  It was too hard for you to think about. That doesn’t mean you didn’t mourn and that you’ve snapped out of it.

   “For good.” 

You look up into his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he’s smiling with soft eyes. You see that he has a dimple on his left cheek. “W-what about-”

“Done for a while. Maybe forever. I know I’m staying.”

   “But your friends, where are they?” He shrugs even though you see the tension. “Separate. We split for a bit.” 

  He rubs his shoulders nervously. “Can I stay with you?” 

“Wow, you’re asking? Shocked.” You tap on the counter. The weight you’ve been carrying is lightened. “Feitan?”

“Yes?” He gets off of the stool and makes his way around the counter. “You know how you give me all those gifts?”

  He nods his head. “Well, this is my gift to you, Feitan Portor. You can stay as long as you like.” 

  He wraps his arms around you. He’s hugging you. This time, you aren’t afraid to hold him back and squeeze. Maybe, just maybe, this is what home is? 

  If the Phantom Troupe resurrects, at least you know he’ll always come home. That you two will be a constant force for each other. No matter if it does or doesn't, you two aren't dancing but admitting things you couldn't. This is home, a gift for each other.  

#feitan portor #feitan x reader #feitan porter x reader #hxh #hxh fanfic #slight yandere #q #phantom troupe #hunter x hunter #hxh feitan #idk what to put here rn

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

What are your favorite royal wedding looks and flowers

I answered a lot of these in the other ask so I'm going to use yours to do a deeper dive into most of the Millennial royal weddings. You want opinions, you're getting opinions today!

Quick aside: I mainly follow only the British royals. I pay some attention to the other European royal families and a little bit of attention to the Jordanian Royal Family. So that’s what this commentary will focus on. Because I don’t follow the Middle Eastern, Asian, or African royals (and subsequently don’t know much about them), I don't feel it's appropriate for me to give commentary on their wedding looks/styles when I don't know who they are. Obviously, as you'll see, my favorites are the BRF so the commentary does skew heavily towards them.

Adding this halfway through: This is a really text-heavy post so I'm going to break up the rambling with my favorite photo from each wedding.

Crown Princess Victoria, June 2010

The Cameo Tiara is my favorite. It paired very nicely with the heirloom veil. Loved that she went for off-the-shoulder short sleeves. Not really a fan of how the train attached at her waist (vs being all one dress), but it really worked for her.

Kate, April 2011

I loved how timeless her whole look was. If you take everything out of the picture and just look at her and the dress, it's magnificent. It works in black and white 1950s vintage. It works in the modern fashion era. It works for her as the individual girl she was at that time. It works for the future she's growing into.

Not a fan of the hairstyle and the tiara. It was a complete miss for me. She should've gone full updo or full Chelsea blowout instead of the halfway compromise. The tiara, meh. Didn't really add anything to me. After seeing the floral headpiece she commissioned for the coronation, I would have loved to see what she'd have done for the wedding since a floral headpiece is what she originally wanted to wear. I also thought her hair was a smidge too dark, but maybe that's the contrast with all of the ivory around her. I much prefer the golden/bronzey highlights she has now and I think it would've helped the contrast better.

Thought the flower girl dresses were a tad too long and that her bouquet was out of place. It needed to be more substantial for such a formal occasion. Either more flowers/bigger shape or bigger blooms.

Something about Hugo Burnand's work always throws me off. I think it's the scale and the perspective he uses; the subjects are too far away from the camera that their backgrounds seem to swallow them up. Didn't like most of their wedding portraits because of that. They kinda ended up looking like cardboard cutout versions of themselves.

Overall, a perfect day. It was nostalgic without being maudlin. Modern without being trendy. Celebratory without being excessive. Traditional without being stodgy.

Charlene, July 2011

I like her dress. Reminds me a lot of Crown Princess Victoria's, but with a lovely embroidery detailing.

I don't really have a lot to say about the Monaco wedding. It looked like a lovely occasion. The dress is fine. The veil is fine. The photos are fine, but Charlene looks like she'd rather be anywhere but there marrying Albert (and the rumors that have come out since about the wedding makes me side-eye a whole lot).

Stephanie, October 2012

Very pretty dress, very pretty veil, very pretty look. Not really very memorable for me. A lot of the gorgeous detailing in her dress gets lost in most of the photos; the close-up photos of her dress are gorgeous and I wish there were more.

I do really like her bridal bouquet; that's what I expected from Kate.

Her tiara got lost in the look and her veil not being closer to the tiara makes sense (since the tiara really would have gotten lost) but I think we've come to expect royal brides wearing their veils and tiaras together so this is something different. I do, however, really like how the veil flows in this picture.

Princess Madeleine, June 2013

I don't mind that it's a lace dress. I cannot with the dust ruffle hem. This photo just killed the whole look for me, but this one (above) and this one redeem it to where I can pretend the dust ruffle doesn't exist.

The neckline also had its issues. It went rogue at one point during the wedding and ended up giving her a 1980s-one shoulder style look.

Her hair was very Swedish (they do like their big buns). Her veil was gorgeous too, tying with Beatrice for second. I prefer the way Madeleine styled her veil over how Victoria styled hers.

Madeleine has my favorite makeup look; dramatic eye with a nice pink lip.

Sofia, June 2015

My feeling is that this isn't the dress Sofia would have chosen for herself. I think she went more demure and modest because of her controversial background but she's had a lot of fantastic style choices otherwise. Something about the cut of her dress reads maternity to me - the skirt seems like it starts too high in the bodice.

She has the traditional big Swedish bun, but it's quite a slicked back/severe look for her. I think with the wide open neck in her dress, a softer, looser hairstyle would have made it work better. I do feel like her earrings needed to be bigger with the open neckline, or at least should have had emeralds to match the tiara. (This may be my least favorite tiara styling -- a little too "on top" of her head, not very integrated into the hairstyle so it looks kinda like an afterthought.)

Loved the colorful flowers she chose. Her wedding colors were my favorite before Eugenie came along.

Pippa, May 2017

I know, I know. Pippa's not royal and it wasn't a royal wedding, but it had a big royal turnout so it counts!

THIS is how you do a lace wedding gown without it looking like Granny's tablecloth or Miss Haversham (yeah, I'm looking at you, Kitty Spencer). THIS is how you do a classic English country garden wedding. The way she decorated the exterior of the church was a dream.

Her headpiece was invisible and added nothing. I get why she chose the piece she did, but come on. Hugely missed opportunity to get a major piece from her new husband or to pay homage to Carole in something like this (which I realize is Kate's coronation headpiece) or like this.

The matron of honor/children's minder was perfection. The flower girls were perfection.

Meghan, May 2018

I'm glad Prince Philip was able to attend. I feel like he attended more to support The Queen than out of joy for the couple. I kinda wished Zara would have gone into labor during the service.

Everything was just so darkly lit, even the bridal portraits too.

(Edit: Let me know if you're curious about why I like this picture for their wedding.)

Princess Eugenie, October 2018

Her floral design and colors were my absolute favorite. She wins, hands down, bar none. I loved the moody dark florals and loved how she embraced the autumnal vibes by making the chapel feel warm and inviting.

I thought the sleeves of her bridal gown were too long and too big, and felt oversized. They needed to have been more tailored, like Kate's were.

Eugenie's wedding portraits are my favorite. The scale and perspective was pleasing and the simpler white background of the Windsor room made the people pop.

Overall, it was a very princessy wedding. Very well done.

Lady Gabriella, May 2019

Her veil is my favorite. I like the fuller veil style, but it almost seemed too full because the details of her tiara was lost in all the tulle.

I love the story that she had originally planned for a pink/blush gown but changed it to white when she learned The Queen wanted to attend; that says a lot about her character and respect for tradition.

Bridesmaid dresses were a tad long. For some reason, her Hugo Burnand portraits don't bother me as much as Kate's do. LOVE that she got to do some portraits outdoors, and her outdoors portraits are so quintessentially England. I kinda wish Kate had had that opportunity given how meaningful the outdoors are for her.

So sad about her husband. Sending her all the strength, especially with their anniversary coming up.

Princess Beatrice, July 2020

I loved that she went for sentimentality above all else. She really made the best out of a terrible situation. Their wedding photos make it seem like she (and Edo) are the sort of people who prioritize the marriage over the wedding so I sense they don't mind all the changes too much.

Loved her simple make-up and her grandmother's dress. Loved the veil too. The hair felt undone; this hairstyle would have polished the look nicely.

Princess Iman, March 2023

Iman squeaks into this review by 3 months. She is the youngest millennial royal bride.

I love how soft and golden her portraits are. She ties with Gabriella's outside portraits for the #2 spot for me.

Her look was simple, and I feel this is romantic minimalism done correctly. The drape of her skirt reminds me a lot of Sarah Chatto's, a soft delicate look that's unusual for most royal brides (who tend to go with stiffer, heavier fabric for the formality). It works really well.

The tendrils are a little much and too loose for me; I'd rank her use of tendrils #2 between Eugenie (#1) and Meghan (#3).

Rajwa, June 2023

I appreciate that she went for a look befitting her own individual personality but it was a choice. Her bridal look is a case of "too much pageant fashion, not enough wedding" for me. The draping was strange, the fit of the skirt versus the train seemed like she was wearing pants with a huge overskirt behind her. But the dress "sits" very nicely and I suspect since the Jordanians do most of their weddings sitting (like above), the overskirt style may have been an intentional choice for the photos.

Veil was nice. Bouquet was too small. Not a fa of the earrings. I do think her tiara is a little too far back on her head.

Many congratulations to them for the new baby.

#in this essay i will #all the royal families #commentary #royal weddings

[photogirl894]

I know I've shared before a bit of what The Bad Batch has meant to me, but I just feel that I have so much more I want to say. Though, in all honesty, I don't think I'll ever be able to put into words exactly how much it means to me, but I'll certainly endeavor to do my best 😊

Having grown up with Clone Wars and just being a lifelong Star Wars fan in general, I was excited when the Bad Batch show was announced. Another Star Wars animated show?? Hell yeah!! I was so down for it. I remember going to my parents place to watch it with my family and my friends...and I fell in love SO fast! I remember thinking the Bad Batch were cool in their CW season 7 arc, but that was about it. Something about them in "Aftermath" changed my view of them and having Omega show up, too, made it even better. Then episode 2 came out later that week and I knew I was hooked right as the episode ended.

I had no idea just how much this show would consume my life 😅

I hadn't been so obsessed with a fandom since The Hobbit movies. That fandom was what introduced me to writing fanfiction and to Tumblr. Then Bad Batch was what made me go back to Tumblr and to fanfiction, as well. It made me start writing for the world of Star Wars, a world I didn't think I would ever be able to write for. I came back to Tumblr after a few years cuz once I found myself going so crazy for this show, I knew Tumblr was the right place to find other people just as crazy about it, just like I'd been able to do for the Hobbit.

And boy, was I right!!

I have found almost more people who loved Bad Batch as much as me than I did in my Hobbit days. Every single person I've talked to and interacted with have impacted my life in so many ways. I even had the special privilege of meeting a couple people in person, as well, which were wonderful experiences! I've spent many hours on discord calls either just one on one with certain people or in severs with big groups of people, playing games, chatting and just having a grand time. I've made some of the greatest friends I've ever had here and it's all thanks to the Bad Batch! I would name each person here, but I don't want to accidentally leave anyone out because there are just so many I'd want to mention, but you all know who you are! 💜💜 I mean it when I say I love all of you, every person I've ever interacted with! You all are truly amazing and I seriously hope I'll get to meet more of you in person in the future 💜

Being back on Tumblr also came with its fair share of drama over the past couple years, but if anything, all that made me stronger, more resilient and it also showed me who my true friends are. I'm grateful for those who stood beside me in those times.

Many of you have been there for me through other hard times in my life, when I had awful drama at work or financial troubles or just bad days in general. A lot of you let me vent so many times and offered me kindness, help and advice, which have meant the world to me. Some of you have even supported mine and my friends' Twitch and YouTube channels and have watched our Star Wars D&D streams or our charity streams, which also means so much to me and I can't thank those of you have supported us enough!

I've learned a lot from the Bad Batch over the years, as well.

Hunter taught me to never give up on your family and to fight for what you think is right.

Crosshair taught me to stick to your beliefs and that it's always possible to change.

Echo taught me to always be loyal to your friends and that you can grow beyond your trauma.

Tech taught me to always be who you are, no matter what everyone thinks, and to treasure your knowledge of things.

Wrecker taught me that it's okay to still have a playful side and to never be afraid of sharing what you love with people.

Omega taught me that compassion is not a weakness, but a strength and you're never too small or too young to make a difference.

So much of my life has changed in just 3 years because of this group of ragtag Clones and their exciting adventures in a galaxy far, far away. Even now, I don't think I've said everything I want to say...but I know I've said just enough.

Now, the show is coming to an end...and I'm feeling the same sadness I did when I knew the last Hobbit movie was coming out. Because that means the thing that has given me something to look forward to for so long is ending. I've become so emotionally invested in these characters and stories and I feel like I'm saying goodbye to loved ones. I legit don't know what I'm gonna do for a while.

One thing I do know I AM gonna do is I'm not going anywhere in the fandom. Space Mama will be around for a long time to come 😊💜 I've got fics to write and friendships to maintain!

All that's left to say is thank you. Thank you to every single person who have come into my life and will continue to be a part of it. Thank you to Dave Filoni (who I know, at least, started the show and brought the Bad Batch into Clone Wars) Jennifer Corbett, Brad Rau, the Kiner's, Joel Aron and, of course, Michelle Ang and Dee Bradley Baker for bringing this fantastic show to life.

In the words of Hunter: "Change takes getting used to. You'll see. Just give it time." Words we're all going to have to live by.

But also, in his words: "If this is where you want to be, then this is where you'll stay."

This is where I want to be...and this is where I'll stay 💜💜

May the Force be with us all...always 💜

#star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch hunter #bad batch crosshair #bad batch echo #bad batch wrecker #bad batch tech

[aiura-stan]

0-6!

(If you’re wondering how I’m getting these done so fast, it’s because I’m doing these ahead of time. I'm running on a queue.) I used dictation and actual keyboard typing for this one, so it’s going to be long. (Side note, I love the ability to dictate things and using split screen mode! Highly useful features and I have no idea why it’s taken me this long to actually use them.) Also, I guess I should say that there will be spoilers in this and probably future posts too, because I’ve already read the manga. Okay! Onto the commentary.

I love that Saiki outright states he doesn't want to be the "guy you know what he's thinking.” Like, come on Saiki, admit it; you have a little bit in common with Kaidou. (I think he secretly kind of likes freaking people out. He definitely likes the fact that people are a little scared of him.)

He's always the odd one out; He's one of the loner kids. I don't think he really thinks it makes him look normal. I think that's just what he tells himself to feel better about the whole thing.

I think it's funny that he dislikes Kaidou for the same reasons that he thinks he's so different from everyone else. I mean, Kaidou is always trying to stand out, and Saiki does have a legitimate reason for not wanting to stand out. But even so. He’s just got it in his head that is so much better than Kaidou at the beginning of the series. Like, dude, you're no different from him. You're the same breed of weirdo in a different font. Lol. That font is “really intentionally manipulating others’ perception of you for personal reasons.” It’s just that Kaidou’s version is much flashier than yours. I like seeing it this early on in the comic; it's interesting to see how it all started. Also, Kaidou is a lot more polite than Nendou, apologizing for talking to Saiki out of nowhere. Amusing. He absolutely knows how to behave like a normal person, but chooses not to because his persona gives him confidence.

I also like that here in the beginning of the comic, we have an unnamed guy who is was basically parroting what Kuuusuke says further on in the comic, and it’s more clearly framed as delusional weirdo behavior.

Yes, duh, he came to you because you were alone, Saiki. Weirdo behavior attracts weirdos (weirdos attract weirdos.) That's just a basic social law for ya.

Also, I laughed out loud at “okay, I’m calling you Junpei.” good response, honestly. Saiki’s narrative commentary addressed to no one in particular is always really funny.

He also seems to be egging him on in the next panel with his sarcastic remarks (wow. Your punch was soooo fast I couldn’t see it at all), though it’s never clear in this manga whether the person being spoken about can actually hear anything he’s saying in all of its dry sarcasm. My headcanon follows the lines that Saiki uses hypnosis when he’s not actively addressing them (sending telepathic messages to them), so people just hear whatever they want to hear from him. Or something like that. I’m guessing that we, the readers, are supposed to assume that they can’t hear him unless Saiki is actively sending them telepathic messages/‘broadcasts’. "I fancy you" is a strangely British way of putting it. Which also means "I like-like you" if memory serves. Translators??? strange. anyways.

Ah… XD. I forgot that Kaidou saw him teleport in the manga. That’s perfect considering Kaidou’s name joke (shunkaidou = teleportation.) wahh, I wish this one came in the tankobon volumes so I could read them.

You know… since the third chapter of this volume was adapted into the anime, can volume 0 really be called non-canon? Maybe to the manga. Hmmmmmm.

Oh come on. Why didn’t they put this in the anime??? It would have been hilarious to have Kaidou imagining some kind of green monster-humanoid hybrid and then the screen transitions to Saiki’s expressionless face, with pink limiters and green glasses. There’s an element of color that manga sadly lacks. I get the point with the black arrows, Mr. Asou, but it just isn’t quite the same without actual color.

XD Asou’s attention to detail is good. We actually see the teacher wondering where the hell he’s going when he runs out of the room, and then following through showing that he won’t be running students down just to make sure they stay in class. It’s a small thing, but it definitely makes a difference, making the Saikiverse seem a bit more realistic.

Also, look, it’s this guy who appears a bajillion chapters later in that weird gag… What was his name again? Gah… refer back to this later, future me.

Yes, Kaidou becomes a completely different person outside of his riddiculous chunnibyou persona, which he only uses at school. I do like that Asou sensei writes him this way. It would be easier to have him be in character all the time, but he’s much more realistic like this. I love that Saiki remembers the stupid nickname he gave himself. It makes the contrast even more funny. Okay, I’ll stop analyzing Kaidou and explaining every joke for now.

XD XD XD

Things like this make me wonder if Saiki really doesn’t know that’s how his looks might be interpreted at a distance… even though he understood from the verbal description that he could be perceived as having “pink horns” and “green eyes.” And he spaces out in class just thinking about it. Thoroughly neurodivergent behavior.

I also love things like this, that imply but don’t outright show that Nendou just… openly teleports in front of Nendou because he can get away with it.

I also enjoy Saiki’s stubbornness in calling Kaidou ‘Junpei.’ Peak comedy.

I love that Kaidou would rather Saiki think he has multiple personalities instead of just being polite to people outside of school. And Saiki says he appreciates the effort… lol. I think he does actually appreciate it, in a way, sarcasm aside. Kaidou is committed to the bit.

“Whether that’s true or not, you need to get to a hospital.” Lollll. But also… makes me wonder if he really believes it, again. That along with the “Kaidou personality chart” further on in this comic. From Saiki’s other confrontations with people who clearly need help (including the one where he talks down a suicidal guy. And of course Terushashi’s brother.) It’s as if it never even occurred to saiki to have a sense of urgency about these kinds of things.

Mmmm! Once again I wish I had the Japanese version because I’m sure he is using polite speech here, for a minute.

Well, at least Kaidou acknowledges here that he’s in fact a chunni and therefore doing this on purpose. Which, again, makes me wonder why Saiki would ever believe even for a second that it isn’t an intentional thing. Or maybe it’s just supposed to be taken as sarcasm outright, but the panel where Saiki is confused about the Horns Saiki drawing really is throwing me off. Another thing I should look for raws of, to see if there’s anything to be gleaned from the OG text.

YES! You and saiki are pretty similar. In a way. Yes, he is worrying about his high school debut… in a way.

Saiki, it is entirely understandable that you think Kaidou is an egomaniac, but given his “other personality,” how did you not guess that he’s just lonely??? He literally had to explain his entire thought process for you to get it??? Yeah, emotional EQ in the single digits.

Earlier, I said Kaidou knew full well how to act like a normal person and just doesn’t do it, but he’s definitely awkward. I mean, of course it’s going to be awkward asking strangers if they’ve seen a guy with green eyes, sharp teeth and horns. (I am not quite sure why Kaidou is so committed to the bit myself.)

LMAO?!?

Saiki, that’s your own goddamned fault, lmao. Put your money where your mouth is and shut him down if you’re tired of annoying people “entering your life”… :)

That wraps up 0-6.

There’s a lot going on here, to be sure. In conclusion, I think Saiki works really well here as a character who is technically omniscient, in terms of perspective, but deeply limited in his ability to interpret information.

Alright, the end. Ja mata! 💫

#queue #read-saiki #read saiki 0-6 #just to be clear. I love saiki. I am not dissing him #Saiki k #long post #if i were borderline omnipotent i also would use my powers for stupid stunts like these #to both freak people out and make their day somehow #i guess sometimes it’s a 50/50 unless you’re dealing with a kaidou level weirdo