#like yeah fuck me for thinking a man could simultaneously respect & fuck you but its actually legitimately impossible for a man to

[cocainegf]

Omg you know what I hate the most. Those stupid fucking posts that are just like men outright saying they're only interacting with you, listening to you talk about your interests or letting you share smthn with them, etc so they can fuck you. Like they're just boldly saying "yeah, dont believe us when we seem genuinely interested in what you're saying. We're desperate for pussy actually & just pretending! Make no mistake I couldn't care less! It's a facade! Just in it for pussy!"

#its like yeah.....i know.....wheres the joke #“”“babygirl he doesnt care about ur squishamallow names hes tryna blow ur back out!!!” “ #“'she let me hit cuz i listened to the monster high lore' #“pretending to fw her shitty indie vinyl so i can smash”“ #“”pussy so good got a nigga sittin here like ohh so serena and blair ARENT really friends???“”“ #its just my number 1 ick #like yeah fuck me for thinking a man could simultaneously respect & fuck you but its actually legitimately impossible for a man to #see the full humanity in some(one)thing he considers HIS to dominate by nature #radfems do touch #radfems do interact #radical feminism #terf safe #terfs do touch #radfem safe #terfs do interact #but yeah men are the lonely ones :( #men are the ones w deep trust issues :(

[bdsmrist]

im high rn so u can ignore me but going insane over the fact that the harry that is nice to kids and likes them is *basically* the canon harry.

like harry wants to be nice to cuno despite how annoying he is, and makes a massive graffiti that says I LOVE YOU CUNO so he grows up knowing that someone out there (harry) loves him. not to mention if kim eats shit n dies, cuno comes w u and u advocate for him to become a junior officer.

also, his scene with annette is so precious; how he can tell that shes extra polite because shes guarded, and when he sees her nails, he doesnt scold her but rather sympathizes with her situation. AND stands up to her mom and calls her out for being a shitty parent (which most ppl irl never do).

and when he meets the anodic teens/young adults, hes so fucking desperate to be perceived as cool while simultaneously reassuring these kids that they are cool, and that their dreams and aspirations are valid and special. like these kids are *homeless*, but he uplifts them to the point where as a player u can easily forget the fact, because he doesnt treat them as such. he treats them like complex people, like fellow artists.

like can u imagine just how kind this man mustve been to his student as a coach. how many shy kids he befriended and got out of their shell. how many kids came out to him as queer (n he was cool w it). and how many kids he can-opened into telling him of the troubles back at home, and how he talked to them through the pain. like do u think he became a cop because a part of him hopped he could help these kids even more if he did?

i think its intended to understand harry as a complex man who holds immense amounts of resentment to the world around him, and has the potential to be one of the most detestable people ever. as a cop, and as an addict, hes seen both the worse of humanity, and seen the worse of himself. so hes meant to have one or two regrettable interactions w those around him.

BUT! he knows kids are never the problem. he understands more than anything that kids are just kids, they need to be protected, and be treated with patience, kindness, and respect. like yeah, u can punch cuno, but the game doesnt rly want u to. if u do, the skills, HARRY’s skills, tell u ur an asshole, and resent u for it.

so in short empath/gentle harry du bois is the best harry du bois. im not sorry abt it.

#normalize being kind to kids and young ppl #i think its based that harry is bringing back being nice to kids #to the point where he looks kim look bad in comparison #not that kim is a bad person i love him but like im just saying harry defo sets a good example #and when he does kim is like ‘damn…. yeah this guys alright’ #hdb #disco elysium

[buck-nialled]

Hello Kitty - B. Barnes

NOTE: for the sake of this imagine, let’s pretend that Bucky knows about HK. WARNING: contains smutty ending, do not read if you are below the age of 18! aka MINORS SCOOT! also this isn’t proofread so sorry if it’s shitty?

TAGLIST: @poetic-heart @hallecarey1 @moonlightbaby10 @5-seconds-of-bucky @bbl32 @wobblymug @iwannabekilledtwice @golden-hoax @barnes-lokison

SUMMARY: it’s your third date with bucky and you are dressed to impress...for the most part

“It’s our third date.” You admit shyly to Natasha and Wanda, who sat before you on your bed. The two women’s “oohs” had your body feeling much warmer in your bathrobe than moments before. You maintained your gaze on your bare thighs, with your fingernails continuously picking at loose pieces of fuzz on your robe.

“So what are you wearing?” Natasha quirks an eyebrow at you, the corner of her lips tilted up deviously. Wanda matches her expression, further encouraging you to stand up and retrieve the knee-length, red dress from your closet. Once again, the two “ooh-ed” simultaneously at the piece.

“I don’t think he’s ever seen a dress so revealing.” Wanda giggles. Natasha joins her with a few chuckles of her own.

“He might think he chose to go out with a harlot.” Nat jives, earning another barrage of laughs from the girl beside her. Yes, Bucky did have a few years on him, but it was nothing you enjoyed hearing others tease him about. Bucky Barnes knew how to put up a shell, and do it excellently. Something you are certain of though, is nobody enjoys having their age being commented on.

“Guys, come on…” You whine, tossing the dress onto your bed and returning to the seat at your vanity, where various makeup products lie scattered.

“We’re only teasing, Y/N.” Wanda’s hand, donning several rings, waves carelessly about. Natasha hums in agreement.

“What are you wearing underneath?” She questions.

“Underneath? Why’s that matter?” Natasha and Wanda both suck in a sharp breath, and exchange a wary glance. When they lock their bewildered stares back onto you and still say nothing, you begin to grow impatient.

“Hello? Am I missing something?” You fold your arms together, leaning back in your chair and looking at the expectantly.

“Y/N, it's the third date.” Wanda snickers.

“I know.”

“Then you should know that it’s important to wear the proper...undergarments.” Natasha mumbles.

“Look who’s sounding old now.” You turn in your seat and waltz over to your dresser. “What’s wrong with wearing what I normally wear?” You call back to them as your eyes study the selection of panties and bras displayed in your top drawer.

Natasha scoffs, before bluntly stating “Your sports bra and granny panties aren’t gonna get you laid, Y/N.” You take a deep inhale through the nose and spin around to meet the woman’s interrogating eyes. Part of you almost makes a comeback on the sports bra comment, but find yourself squeaking after processing her last few words.

“Laid?! Who says we’re going that far?” You nearly choke out, laying a hand on your cheek in mortification.

“Says anybody who’s ever dated anybody. Third dates require you to bring your A-game.” Wanda informs, now making you succumb to humiliation further. The girl is years younger than you and knows more about a stable love life than you ever could. “You have to dress up. Even underneath.” She adds.

You glance down at the sloppy bow you tied to keep your robe shut. “Well...that rule is stupid. And outdated. Who says we can’t go out on a third date, have a good time fully-clothed and end it that way?” You snip, turning back to grab a nude bra with a satisfied smile.

“Y/N, just take our advice. It’ll help you in the long run.” Nat begs, catching a sinister glint in your eyes. You make an indecisive noise, feeling giddy for keeping your friends on their toes, before declaring:

“No, I don’t think I will. In fact, to prove to you both how ridiculous that rule is…” Your hand shuffles around the drawer, away from Natasha’s and Wanda’s prying eyes. When you finally retrieve your most embarrassing pair of underwear, you elicit a devilish laugh and raise the piece of clothing, high and proud for their eyes to see. In sync, you watch their lips part and eyes grow ide.

“Y/N, no…” Wanda’s strawberry-blonde hair swishes on and off of her shoulders as she shakes her head furiously.

“Don’t do this.” Natasha continues pleading. But their desperate attempts to keep you from wearing the pair of panties, clutched tight in your grasp, is only further motivation for you to pull them on your body.

“Y/N, yes.” You nod. “If you two ladies don’t mind excusing yourselves, I have a date to get ready for.” Both women perceive your satisfied smile with doubtful frowns tracing their lips. Natasha and Wanda knew perfectly well that you would come to regret your decision later in the night. You, however, were too ignorant to realize the mistake you had just committed.

♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎☆♥︎

“Thanks for taking me out, Buck. I had a really great time.” Your hand, entangled with Bucky's, lessens its grip. As the two of you approach the elevator to ride up to your floor, the red fabric adorning your body stops swishing at your knees. Bucky rests his vibranium hand against his chest, sparing you a smile nobody else in the compound would ever have the delight of seeing.

“The pleasure is all mine, Y/N.” His fingers remain laced with yours throughout the entire elevator ride up to your respective floor. When you began leading the way to your own bedroom, Bucky stops you with a proposal.

“Actually I was thinking about it, and uh…” the same hand on his chest moments ago winds behind him to scratch at the nape of his neck, “did you want to come to my room and chat a little longer.”

You graciously accepted the super soldier’s offer, but it was not long before your lips and tongues pursued more intimate activities. Currently, yours were forming escalating moans as Bucky’s mouth prioritized the space between your shoulder and neck, giving each patch of untouched skin his undivided attention.

“I gotta get this off of you,” he grumbles, yearning for more of your bare skin to meet his lips. Eagerly, his flesh hand searched the back of your dress up and down for a zipper. His vibranium hand remained at the bottom of your thigh, metal fingers tucked just below the red skirt of your dress and dangerously close to--

You suck in a sharp breath, eyes enlarging at the thought of the underwear shielding your privates. Bucky’s blue eyes, darkened by the dimly lit bedroom cast down to yours with concern.

“W-what happened? I didn’t hurt you did I?” You respond with a viscous shake of your head, desperate to not let this moment slip through your fingers.

“Just had a...small chill.” Your lips tremble at the sight of Bucky’s turning up into a smirk. You swear his eyes darken four shades in front of you too, complementing the burning list fueling your actions. His lips bend down to greet the shell of your ear, and this time, a sincere chill does run through your body. It sends tingles to your toes and an itchy feeling only Bucky can give you antidote for.

“Why don’t I warm you up, then?”

You’ll admit, for being over one hundred, the man still had power to every butterfly in your stomach, and each thump of your heart. Once glance from his blue eyes could send your knees wobbling, or worse, be to blame for a full on collapse. Currently, this charm of his was sparring with your inner-shame all because of what lies beneath your dress.

You remember why you put the pair of panties on in the first place, but you never expected your long-time crush to be witness to them. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared to deal with any future teasing from Bucky this moment would bestow on you. After all, it’d be quite nice to rub it in Natasha’s and Wanda’s face that you still got laid while wearing them.

“Yeah, I’d like that…” you elicit a nervous chuckle, following Bucky’s perusing eyes. You feel his hand still struggling to take hold of the small zipper and tug it down. His impatience grew clear when his warm palm and cool metal appendage dissipated from your back entirely, and instead, grasped the hem of the dress pooling at your thighs.

“Fuck it.” He mutters, and lifts the skirt of your dress up. By this point, your eyes were clenched shut and your teeth were grinding together in anticipation. Without realizing it, your fingers were clutching Bucky’s bedsheets for support of the various reactions feeding through your brain. Only did your hands release the cotton sheets when Bucky’s hands cloaked them.

You peeled your eyes open to see him, a cheeky smile lining the bottom of his face as he responded in a coy manner. “Nice panties.” A wave of heat filled your body from top to bottom, while your heartbeat reached a pace that you never knew to be possible. Bucky could hear each thump for himself, and chuckled to himself at the sight of you falling sheepish underneath him.

The blue beauties of his eyes dragged down your body to the light pink cotton underwear, where a familiar cartoon head was printed all around it. The yellow noses and dotted eyes stared up at him daringly, awaiting his next move. As did you.

A sharp breath leaps down your throat when a cool metal finger inserts itself through the side of your underwear, and you feel your stomach begin quivering at the feeling of Bucky’s vibranium hand sliding the panties down your leg in a teasing manner.

“Hello Kitty.” Is all he says, before introducing your wet heat to the magic trick that is his thick, pink tongue.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan blurb #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader

[dameronology]

you have my number {bucky barnes x reader}

summary: bucky barnes' memory is a little selective, thanks to all the brainwashing - but one thing he'll never forget is his love for you, even if you're a complete & utter pain in the ass. his ass. (based on deja vu by olivia rodigro)

^even tho this fic refers to bucky as having a new gf, the reader is still g.n :)

this is spoiler free! enjoyyy

- jazz xx

Your relationship with Bucky Barnes had been nothing short of a train wreck.

And frankly, that was putting it nicely.

It had been a short & passionate affair; intense and sweet and filled with so much emotion in such high concentrations that you'd both almost drowned in it. For every euphoric moment, there had been one so low that you'd scraped your knees on the ground. Climbing a ladder to heaven whilst simultaneously digging your own graves had taken its toll on you both, and eventually, you had no choice but to go your separate ways. It had been for your own sanity, really.

So there he was, tucked away in a neat little box in your brain, labelled don't touch, ever. Even when you were completely wasted, surrounded by your friends and their respective lovers, you never dared to venture back down that particular memory lane. Forgetting all the bad parts and selectively remembering the good parts was easy enough to do, but you had the common sense to remember why you'd broken up in the first place. Because Bucky Barnes, despite being easy on the eyes and having a charming sense of humour, was a pain in your fucking ass. He managed to press every one of your buttons without even trying and his ability to bring out the best in you was completely and entirely wiped out by his tendency to bring out the worst. That wasn't even getting started on his emotional hold-ups; a can of worms neither of you had dared to open until it became the very reason for your demise.

Six months had passed, and you'd managed to expertly avoid him. You worked different missions and Sam Wilson, god bless his sweet soul, went the extra mile to ensure your paths never crossed in a professional sense. On a personal level, however? That was a little more difficult. New York City felt a lot smaller after your break up. You found yourself occasionally ducking under your hood when you saw him on the F-train, or rushing to cross the road when you saw him coming towards you on the street.

That was when you had the whole city to lose yourself in; streets and shops and little food carts to distract yourself with should you need to. Being confined to the same room for a work party was a different story entirely, and one you didn't want to read. Yet, thanks to some insistence from your boss and a little grovelling from your colleagues, you found yourself rocking up to the former Avengers tower on a Friday night.

"So you do exist outside of your work uniform?" Sam Wilson greeted you with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah - nice to see you too, Wilson."

Despite your initial attempts to elbow him in the rips, he wrestled you off of him and pulled you into a tight hug. Sam was one of your favourite colleagues and oldest friends - he'd witnessed the rise and fall of your relationship with Bucky, and been there for you both during the break-up. That had been an exhausting few days, running between your respective apartments in an attempt to offer emotional support to you both.

"D'you want some champagne?" He asked.

"I'm good, but thank-"

You froze, eyes widening at the sight of James Barnes across the room. He looked quintessentially the same, bar for the fact his hair was a little longer and he had a fresh, pink scar under his left eye. Having ditched his usual attire for a black blazer, he looked good. Annoyingly so, in fact. It made you secretly grateful that you'd chosen to dress up a little more than usual too.

"- on second thoughts." You took the flute of champagne from Sam, also grabbing a shot of vodka from the same trey. It was gone in seconds.

"Need I ask?" Sam gave you a playful frown. His brown eyes followed your gaze over his shoulder, landing on the man you'd been staring at. "Ah. I need not."

"Sorry." You murmured. "We haven't actually spoken since, y'know."

"Since you had a break-up that made Ross and Rachel look good?"

"I don't think Bucky has ever seen Friends." You quipped.

"His loss." Sam shrugged. "You should talk to him."

"Nope." You snorted. "Absolutely not. I don't even know if he's moved on."

"Judging by the pretty blonde on his arm, I think he has," Sam replied. "Would you look at that! They're headed right for us."

That was a lot of information to process at once. You would have needed a week alone for your poor, tired brain to deal with the fact that Bucky had someone else on his arm, and a further three days to big yourself up enough to talk to him. Alas, that was not the case tonight. Instead, you had about five seconds between Sam finishing his sentence and your ex-boyfriend reaching you. It was just as well you found the energy within that timeframe to down your champagne.

You could see the woman on his arm clearer now. To give credit where credit was due, she stunning. She looked like the sort of girl who smelt of strawberries and Chanel, and grew her own vegetables on the fire escape. The kind of person you swore to be with every New Year that came, but quickly ditched after a week, returning to drinking coffee from the Starbucks under your apartment rather than going to the organic, vegan place a few blocks over. There was an ethereal glow about her and fuck. You were mad.

"Sam!" Bucky called out to his friend - for a minute, you thought he was ignoring you, before you realised he genuinely didn't recognise you. Your name rolled off his tongue with a tone of uncertainty, as though he was learning a new language and still learning how to pronounce things. "Wow. You look...different."

"So do you." You shot back. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Katie." He awkwardly smiled. "My...my girlfriend."

"It's nice to meet you." You forced an equally pained grin, taking her hand in a shake.

"How do you and Bucky know each other?" She asked.

"Work." Bucky quickly said. You thinned your eyes at him, almost in disbelief.

"So you're an Avenger like these two?" Katie asked, clearly not picking up on the tension. "That's so cool."

"Not in an official capacity." You replied. "But they'd be fucked without me."

--

The night only got longer from there, really.

There wasn't enough champagne in the world to help the void in your soul. It was a gaping wound that Bucky Barnes had both filled and widened - and tonight, he was doing the latter. It sounded as though him and Katie were having a grand ol' time of it. From the parts of the conversation that you'd actually bothered to listen to, you'd gathered that she'd arrived in New York from London just over three months ago. That meant she had a fucking accent. Of course she did. It made everything she said a thousand times more interesting.

"We were in Paris, in this little cafe. What was it called, babe? Maison de vie?"

"Maison de l'amour, doll." Bucky corrected her. It had only sounded right when he was calling you that.

Your eyes shot up from your drink, immediately staring daggers at them both. The slimy bastard. You had been the one to show him that place. You'd been in Paris for a mission, and after realising it was your four-month anniversary, you'd taken him there for pancakes. It had been a slow morning, filled with hazy eyes and pink skies, and it had ended with him dropping the L-bomb for the first time. The photo you'd taken of Bucky, sat beside a pile of pancakes the same size of him and with whipped cream on his chin, had been your phone background until the day you broke up.

"I've been there." You didn't break away from his gaze, holding cold blue eyes in a trance that he found to be almost suffocating.

"Oh, nice!" Katie beamed. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah." You sniffed. "The company was shit, though."

"Oh, man." She replied. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's not your fault." You gave her a sweet smile - to Bucky, it was a look of venom. "So, tell me more about your trip to Paris."

He quickly cleared his throat. "We didn't do much. Just a weekend getaway-"

"- are you forgetting that we saw Billy Joel?" Katie cut him off with a laugh. "The Billy Joel!"

"Right." It looked as though his mouth had gone completely dry.

"He told me he loved me for the first time to Uptown Girl-"

"-excuse me for a moment." You shoved your glass in her hand, before backing away from your little huddle.

Your brain was focused on getting away and only on getting away. The room suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and a thousand times smaller too, as though the walls were closing in on you. Maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if they'd just collapsed around you and swallowed you fucking whole. Anything to get away from this situation.

Making a beeline for the balcony doors, you elbowed them open and stepped outside. The cold air of the rooftop gardens was a welcome contrast to the stuffy indoors, biting, night air hitting your face like an icy hug. The sounds of the city rung below you - sirens and yells and tourists - and tangled into the faint sound of the music, all parts of a world that your brain was working overtime to block out.

You focused on the city instead, using the bright lights of the surrounding buildings to anchor you to reality. None of it really even made sense - you were over Bucky. Had been for a long time. It was just the thought of him doing all the things that he'd done with you, with someone else. It made you feel a little bad for Katie, too.

"I was going to tell you about Billy Joel."

You glanced over your shoulder, giving a derivative snort. "Piss off, Bucky."

"I'm serious." He ignored your demand, cautiously approaching you.

"I brought you those tickets!" You turned around to face him. "We were meant to go together. Billy Joel was our thing."

"We broke up!' He reminded you. "Like I said, I was going to tell you that we went together-"

"- I don't care." You cut him off. "I genuinely don't care."

"That was a lot of storming off for someone who doesn't care."

"Okay, maybe I care a little bit." You huffed, taking a seat on a bench. "It's not even that you're with someone else, it's that you're doing all the things we did. The nicknames, the pancake place, the concert."

"I..." Bucky took a seat beside you, pondering for a moment.

"And declaring your love for someone to Uptown Girl is fucking weird." You muttered.

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Vienna, obviously."

"You're such a pain in the ass." Bucky replied. "But for what it's worth, I wasn't thinking of Katie in that moment."

You glanced up at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"D'you remember that morning when we were in New Orleans?" He asked. "And we had a few hours to kill before our flight, so you started dancing around the hotel room to Uptown Girl?"

"I remember." You softly smiled.

"That was when I realised I loved you." He admitted. "I was replaying that in my head at the concert, and it just kinda came out, and Katie heard."

"Damn." You muttered. "Sucks to be her, huh?"

"I like Katie." He said. "Truth be told, doll, I'm still stuck in the past a little bit. With you, and with what we had."

"We fucking hated each other by the end, Buck."

"I know, but I mean all the stuff before that." He explained. "You were the first person who saw me for who I am and not what I've done. The first person that actually made me feel loved and worthy."

"I do try."

He lightly elbowed you "I'm serious. I think I'm just projecting my longing for what we had onto my current relationship."

"You're being painfully honest tonight." You observed. "It's fucking weird."

"Who taught me to be painfully honest?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "So this is how Frankenstein felt when he created his monster."

"You're the worst," Bucky muttered. "I genuinely am sorry, though. I shouldn't be recycling our memories. I should make new ones.'

Dusting off your trousers, you stood up. "You're right."

"Thank you, though."

"For what?"

"For finding me first," He replied, "and for teaching me what love is."

"Well, if you ever need to be reminded? You have my number."

#why am i low key in love with katie? #i want a tall woman who smells of strawberries :( #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x gn!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers fluff #avengers angst #avengers imagines #avengers imagine #marvel imagines #marvel imagine

[uwuwriting]

Boyfriend w/ Megumi, Itadori and Gojo

Request: hii I just read your jujutsu nightmares piece and oh my god I am indeed a very simple simp and your writing just makes my heart go uwu so may I maybe req a very soft, fluffy s/o for Megumi, Itadori Sato and maybe Sukuna if you write for him? I hope it's not too much, thank uu <3 - anonymous

I can’t get enough of the JJK content, I love them so much my heart can’t take it. Sadly I don’t write for Sukuna *I think I mention it in my rules but I’m not sure*, he pissed me off big time in the manga so yeah sorry about that. Really all the curses have kinda pissed me off but that’s a story for another day lmao. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: boyfriend things lol, fluff, maybe some angst sprinkled on top but not a lot. 

Fushiguro Megumi 

-Megumi reminds me of Suna from Haikyuu. 

-Like a lot. 

-He will put effort in the relationship of course but he won’t flaunt it around in everybody’s faces. 

-Yes he has a s/o and yes he is in love but in his book that should be mostly kept in between you two, no one else has to know. 

-So at first your relationship isn’t really acknowledged by the others. 

-It’s so subtle at casual that everyone around you thinks that you’re merely best friends and close to each other. 

-Only Makki knows that you two are a thing since she sees how you worry and take care of him after he has been injured. 

-It’s different from platonic concern and she knows what’s going on. 

-Plus she saw you steal a kiss one time and that sealed the deal. 

-Eventually the others figure it out and they are losing their shit, for completely different reasons though. 

-Nobara can’t believe Megumi got a s/o before she did. 

-Gojo is hurt because neither of you said anything and he has been trying to hook you up for the past two years now. 

-Itadori is just confused because he thought that you were like that to everyone. 

-Now PDA is non-existent with this one. 

-He doesn’t feel comfortable touching you in public even if it’s a small peck. 

-He prefers showing his love behind closed doors or through acts of service. 

-So expect to find multiple bentos waiting for you in the kitchen each morning or a hot bath on the ready when you come back from a long mission. 

-You are okay with the no PDA rule, your only request is that he at least hold your pinkie when you need it. 

-It grounds you and who is he to say no to that?

-During missions he doesn’t underestimate your strength and let’s you do your thing. 

-He only interferes when you ask for help or when he notices that you’re extremely overwhelmed. 

-He doesn’t smother you and you are eternally grateful for that. 

-Training sessions between the both of you are brutal. 

-Neither holds back and you're left a panting, sweating mess at the end, crawling to your respective rooms to change before you settle for a movie later that afternoon.

-If either of you gets injured it’s mama bear time. 

-You need to change your bandages? Megumi has already taken out the kit and all the essentials. 

-He needs to take some meds to calm the pain in his ribcage? You have the pills in hand. 

-He is a shy boy so even in private he hesitates to touch you. 

-Don’t get him wrong he loves holding you and feeling you close to him but he is also afraid he will make you uncomfortable or overstep. 

-So you will be the one initiating cuddle session during the first months of your relationship. 

-After a while he will simply pick you up and carry you to his bed for cuddles if he needs them without uttering a word the whole time. 

-Good morning/Goodnight kisses are a must. 

-It’s a ground rule that he follows religiously since day one. 

-It doesn’t matter if it’s a simple peck on his lips or a passionate kiss, he just wants to get a kiss before starting/ending the day. 

-Sleeps on his stomach with an arm always draped over your waist. 

-Isn’t really into the whole sleeping on each other thing but he won’t say no to being the big spoon or even better the little spoon. 

-He gets flustered when you kiss his knuckles or trace patterns on his palms. 

-He knows his hands are rough from all the training but after your touch they feel tender and gentle. 

-Prefers indoor dates rather than outdoor ones. 

-His favorite  is cooking dinner together and then cuddling on the couch *in hopes you won’t get interrupted by Gojo*.

-The only thing he dislikes about the whole relationship thing is the teasing he receives from Gojo. 

-He is ready to rip his ears off. 

-Boy has murder on his mind 24/7 and it is all directed to his mentor.

-Gojo noticed that Megumi had you as his wallpaper ONCE and now it’s game over for your boyfriend. 

-The thing is that you don’t get teased as much and he is *salty*. 

Itadori Yuuji

-He is such a lovable boy, how could you NOT fall in love with him?

-Your relationship is naturally effortless. 

-Everything flows so naturally and without even trying you two have formed such an unbreakable bond that not even Sukuna himself can tether even if he tried. 

-Many MANY spontaneous trips to the nearest convenience store at 3 am.

-Oh you are craving some popcorn? Well go on, get your shoes, we are going grocery shopping. 

-Won’t hesitate to do anything for you and when I say anything I mean it. 

-He ditched Gojo once because you had bad period pains and said you needed cuddles. 

-What cruel creature would he be if he denied his beautiful girlfriend her cuddles??? 

-Sukuna has cockblocked you two and has ruined your cuddles on multiple occasions. 

-From weird noises to rude comments to interrupting Yuuji’s thoughts with random shit. 

-Real party crasher. 

-Yuuji’s love language is touch mainly so expect a shit load of hugs and kisses. 

-Won’t let go of your hand while you are out in public. 

-If he can’t hold your hand he will place his palm in the small of your back or wrap his arm around your shoulders/waist. 

-It’s a physical need. 

-He has to be touching you at all times because that reminds him that you are truly here beside him and that you are okay. 

-The sorcerer's life has already taken a toll on his mentality and he hates leaving you alone so most of the time you go on conjoined missions. 

-Unlike Megumi he tries to protect you during fights by all means. 

-He doesn’t do it because he sees you as weak and in need of protection it’s just an instinct that he can’t control at all. 

-He will put himself in immense danger, taking all the blows just so you can leave the scene unscathed. 

-You have scolded him on his complete disregard of his own life and the tears that pooled in his eyes as he explained that his body moves on its own when he sees anything darting towards you, breaks your heart. 

-If you kiss the little marks under his eyes all his worries fly out the nearest window. 

-He forgets about everything around him, about the looming threat of his imminent execution, the only thing on his mind are your lips on his cheekbones and your thumbs rubbing circles on his cheeks. 

-If you pepper him in too many kisses he will begin his own assault by first tackling you to the floor or the bed and capturing you in a hug before the smooches begin. 

-He has a tendency to leave hickies on your neck which you struggle to cover each morning and you are always real close to glaring at him when he beams like the sun itself at you in the morning but your mild anger fades the moment his lips meet yours. 

-You have your suspicions that he knows what he is doing with that, he knows his kisses make you weak so he uses them to his advantage. 

-Will never admit it but it always places a small smirk on his lips every time you clutch his shirt for balance or rest your forehead on his shoulder to regain your composure. 

-An I love you a day is required for good vibes. 

-Won’t hesitate to shout it even in front of others, he just has no filter and no shame. 

-Makes you turn tomato red and he snickers. 

-Fuck him, literally. 

Gojo Satoru

-This fucking tease. 

-He has no chill!!!!!!

-How are you with him?!?!?!?!!

-My man fine af and he drinks his respect for y/n and y/n alone juice every morning. 

-That doesn’t mean though he won’t try to fluster you throughout the day. 

-It’s his main goal really. 

-Full blown make out sessions in the hallways of the school, ass smacks in front of others and trying to leave hickies on your neck during your lunch break. 

-It simultaneously pisses you off and turns you on so you can’t decide if you should smack him or jump his bones. 

-It’s a never ending debate and his chances of getting the quawk quawk 5000 are 50/50. 

-He respects your boundaries when you give him a sign that you really don’t want him to be like that on certain days. 

-He is a very observant individual in general so it’s not hard for him to take note of the signs of pure discomfort or awkwardness. 

-True he loves flustering you but the moment things get out of hand and you don’t feel okay with how he is acting, he is throwing his attitude out the window and becomes respectful Gojo in a flash. 

-Likes having his arm draped over your shoulder. 

-He is super tall so chances are he towers over you. 

-He has used you like an armrest several times which resulted to a trip to Shoko for a dislocated wrist/shoulder. 

-You make him bentos almost everyday and he waits for them like a lost puppy. 

-No matter the time, he doesn’t care if he is late, he will wait for you to make him a little bento to take with him. 

-Curses can wait, he needs to receive his first dose of y/n love of the day. 

-Brags to his student about you and to Nanami, much to the blonde’s dismay. 

-Talks everyone’s ear off. 

-He becomes super protective when an elder shows up or at the mere mention of them. 

-He will grasp your hand, keeping a firm grip as those pretentious fucks stare down at you. 

-They really don’t care about Sato’s happiness and they will never show you a fiber of respect despite being chosen by the strongest sorcerer. 

-You are not part of one of the three clans so you are worth nothing in their eyes. 

-Gojo hates them for that. 

-Deep rooted hatred that could turn into a mass murder if one of them call you a distraction or a slut one more time. 

-You are really grateful for him in those moments. 

-You are grateful in general but during those times when you are being bombared left and right with rude comments, he will remind everyone in the room that he doesn’t give a flying fuck about what they believe. 

-He fell in love with you because you are your beautiful self and not because you are a powerful sorcerer. 

-He wants to imagine your kids as a sign of your love and not as an item of power, as a weapon like many of these people see him. 

-He has ditched the elder meetings on many occasions just because he wasn’t in the mood of listening to their bullshit so he came home to you and spent the rest of his night cuddled up under the large comforter, watching a movie while peppering your shoulders with kisses. 

-Adores seeing you in his clothes. 

-They are so big on you that you wear them as dresses around the house. 

-He especially loves the sight of your bare legs peeking from underneath his black t-shirt. 

-99% of the time this ends up in you getting your guts rearranged. 

-Surprisingly remembers all the important dates and he makes it to as many dates as he can. 

-Being a sorcerer is difficult man, give him a break curses he has a date at 8 and he needs to get his formal glasses. 

-All in all he loves you to the moon and back and would do anything to keep you safe and next to him. 

TAG  TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @ezoyscorner​ @letscheereachotheron​ @wolfkid22​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​ @threeamwriting​ @ysatrap​ @yashinosakura  @angel6786​

#fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x you #fushiguro x y/n #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #fushiguro megumi #itadori x you #itadori x y/n #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji #yuuji x you #yuuji x y/n #yuuji x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen itadori

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

#dylan o’brien #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brien x fem!reader #dylan o'brien gifs

[yhwhsdaughter]

HQ!! Manager being protective when people insult their player

(ft. oikawa, hinata, tanaka, yachi, osamu, kuroo)

Warnings: threats, physical altercations, bullying, public humiliation

I usually don’t condone the usage of violence, but I woke up mad today lmao

OIKAWA

the pretty setter was getting ready to serve, his fangirls screaming in support while the rest of the team took a break.

to the side were a couple of guys staring in jealousy, “heh, his weak ass gets a big ego just because—”

they continued their insults and while they didn’t reach oikawa, his team members certainly heard it all

teasing oikawa was different when it came from them because they genuinely cared about him,, but for someone else to continuously bully the setter without reason?? it was infuriating

before any of them could kick their asses, their manager approached them.

(name) was perhaps the most polite individual they’d met; always patient and kind despite their antics

“ah, i can see the misunderstanding that oikawa is a weakling. he’s got a broken knee and constantly pushes himself despite the excruciating pain.”

the aura surrounding them suddenly turned dark and cold as (name) clutched the shoulder of the main bully with an iron grip

“what about you? shall i break your knee so we can find out if you’re stronger than him?”

at that moment, their gentle mannered manager had the eyes of a beast, unyielding as the guy tried to escape their grip

when they left, the players approached (name) who still glared in that direction. “woah we didn’t know you could be so scary (name)”

now calmer, they replied, “you’re my team, i would kill anyone that tries harm you.”

it was such a matter-of-fact that the males couldn’t help but laugh “haha you’re funny too”

“am i laughing?”

that day they learned their precious manager would deadass commit murder for them

extra: when oikawa found you defended him, he ran with open arms, “(name)-channnnn marry me!” squeezing the life out of you

HINATA

competition hadn’t even started and people were already shit talking karasuno

“flightless crows” blah blah blah

as their third manager, you would be in the benches with yachi, supporting the team

however, hinata had gone to the bathroom and he wasn’t back. daichi had sent you to get him since the game was about to start

you found the team’s sunshine nearly corned by a tall player “aah you’re so short and you’re a middle blocker?? i’ll be looking down on you little shrimp!”

he didn’t get to say more because your leg swiftly hit the back of his knees, falling to the ground harshly.

no one and i mean no one messes with hinata without you getting a few hits in, regardless height

“oh look. you’re below him now”

mans was lucky y’all were in a competition, otherwise he wouldn’t have left unscathed

with that, you steered your baby hinata away from that asshole, throwing him a dirty look in case he wanted to try anything

if he did, you would not hold back. literally on sight

fyi hinata was totally not blushing the entire way back. everytime you approach him now he gets all flustered

everyone else is like ???

TANAKA

the ladies man, tanaka had encountered a group of attractive girls at the arcade so he decided to shoot his shot

when they declined, tanaka was prepared to leave them alone, respectful of a woman’s boundaries, but they decided to verbally attack him

“who’d wanna go out with you?” “yeah you’re so ugly, stupid baldie”

wrong move

unfortunately for them, you were also at the arcade, having heard how the entire conversation went down

you knew tanaka would never use violence against a girl, even if they were rude, but you would.

equal rights equal fights bitch

those girls never saw it coming, you grabbing the leader’s hair roughly and yanking it back, “you’re right, longer hair is much better”

you went feral; simultaneously slapping the others away when they tried to pull you off, your tight grip never faltering.

only when tanaka placed a gentle hand on your arm that you released her

“insult him again and you’ll be the baldie next time”

in short, tanaka now sees you as his personal deity. boy will adore you

YACHI

the third years were gone now

kiyoko had left the team in your and yachi’s hands, with you mainly taking charge as the now-third year manager

the team all sat together for lunch (yes, tsukki too), they were waiting for you since you’d been talking with a teacher

a girl in front of you side-eyed yachi, watching with envy as the blonde sweetheart spoke with the handsome volleyball players

plan brewing in that toxic mind of hers, the girl pretended to trip, spilling her lunch all over yachi. the team didn’t have time to react, watching in shock as food splatted on her lap

sis even had the audacity to say “oh sorry didn’t see you there” as if she didn’t just purposefully throw her food on someone else

worry not, because you returned the favor.

as soon as she gave her faux apology, your food was already making its way down her head to her shoes

there wasn’t a part of her left uncovered

“my bad, i thought you were the trash” you did not look sorry at all

half of the cafeteria watched this unfold—tsukki even making some snide remarks. you grabbed yachi’s hand, guiding her to the restroom to help her clean off

from that moment on, people got the message to never mess with the volleyball team lest they face the wrath of their manager

OSAMU

osamu was your best friend, the reason why you joined inarizaki as their manager

currently, you were in home ed, making the assigned dish but it wasn’t difficult so your movements were lax so much that you couldn’t help but overhear the conversation going on in front of your table

at the mention of osamu, your ears perked up

“he was SUCH a jerk. i kept asking hoping he would grow tired and say yes, but nooooo. apparently osamu thinks he’s better than me”

some of her friends looks uneasy at her inability to take ‘no’ for an answer but the girl continued on her rant

the teacher stepped out for a moment. “HAHAHAHHAHA” the class turned to look at you, laughing like a maniac while you chopped vegetables with scary precision and inhuman strength

“you sure got some nerve, harassing someone like that.. especially my best friend”

that was the moment the grew knew she’d fucked up. she couldn’t even answer back because the teacher was back.

you made a point to ask the teacher if you could be partners with that girl for the next lesson, making her gulp in fear as you ran a finger across your throat

to say the least, she stopped talking for the remainder of the class

KUROO

chemistry?? you and kuroo?? friends?? together in class???

a fucking chaos

just kidding. the two of you were actually really good students. the best, if you had to brag

despite being the teacher’s favorite, you were lowkey about it while kuroo liked to insert as many chem jokes as he could in presentations

it was kinda embarrassing and you subtly teased him, but never with malicious intent

during a lab, you got partnered with a bully. you tried to ignore him and continue working, but it kept getting worse.

the breaking point was dragging in kuroo to all of this. you’d rejected his offers of going on a date and when kuroo made a motion to ask if you were ok, the dude took it as a sign to talk shit

“seriously? him? he’s a fucking nerd. his jokes are lame and has shitty hair—”

your eye twitched. “oi you better stop if you don’t want me to burn your face off”

clueless in class, he didn’t know how to handle the material so you were doing all the work. he didn’t believe you

bringing in the acidic substance near his face is when he finally backed away, at which point you had already called the teacher and told them that he was playing around with dangerous chemicals

although it was the other way around, who do you think the teacher believed, their star student or the school bully??

lmao, bitch could ask his detention buddies out on a date now

kuroo: ??

#haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x you #hq x reader #kuroo testuro #hinata shouyou #osamu miya #tanaka ryuunosuke #haikyuu yachi #oikawa torū #kuroo x reader #hinata x reader #osamu x reader #tanaka x reader #oikawa x reader #yachi x reader

[cuntess-carmilla]

The level of performance you demand from bi people as a whole, but especially of bi women, is motherfucking insane. I really don't get why you all demand bi women virtue signal their sexuality by "rejecting" men in order to not deem them gross lesbophobes by virtue of existing. "Even" if they prefer men that's not necessarily out of some internalized homo/biphobia. They just like men. That’s kind of part of (most bi people’s) bisexuality. Shocker, I know.

A lot of the behaviors you all accuse bi women of (not taking other women seriously as partners, for example) are behaviors a lot of lesbians in denial exhibit too but in us you see victims of our own pain and misogyny who need help and understanding, while in bi women you see vile irredeemable perpetrators who must be ostracized and punished.

You blame them of their own abuse at the hands of cis straight men in ways that if you remove the "bi" from "bi women" you would recognize as disgusting victim-blaming, WHILE rejecting them & pushing them out of LGBT spaces, which, guess what you fucking geniuses; leaves them to have cis straight men as their only viable option. Funny how that works. You're all "women should stay away from dating bi women" or "bi women fetishize lesbianism by wanting to be with women" but shame bi women for being with men IN THE SAME BREATH. What the fuck do you want them to do? Be celibate for your own biphobic comfort?

I legit saw idiots on Twitter say "normalize lesbians only dating other lesbians" as if that's not what's normalized already. Bi women are already seen as gross sluts that kiss women at parties to turn men on and only seriously date men. What the fuck isn’t normalized about lesbians dating lesbians only?

You think that I, a literal fucking dyke, didn't see women at some point as hot for sex and men as the only viable partners for serious relationships? Would you see me as a disgusting dangerous misogynist for having been there, or as struggling with internalized homophobia? If it’s the later, why don't you extend that same compassion to bi women? Only difference there is that I'm a lesbian and they're bisexual.

Sure, they like men so being with men isn't INHERENTLY torture for them like it is for me, but you don't think that thinking/behaving that way is traumatizing for them too? They love women and are depriving themselves of that experience out of internalized biphobia, misogyny and homophobia. You think that doesn’t fuck them up too? They're hurting too, but you think that, unlike a lesbian who does the same, THEY deserve that suffering.

And no one is telling you to date them or to suffer for them through it just because they're suffering too. What you're being told is to see them as the non-straight women they are who're suffering too and understand the complexity of their situation the same way you would someone like me.

You think too that the “solution” to the horrendous rates of IPV they face with cis straight men is swearing off men. Would you tell straight women to do the same if they don’t want to be abused by male partners? You wouldn't. Because you see straight women as not having "an option" but think bi women do and thus they MUST be asking to be abused. Literal “asking for it” shit. It's all victim blaming + Boys Will Be Boys, but add a "bi" to it and it's progressive somehow.

This points to you seeing women's attraction to men as only ok when it's not "chosen", just a passive reception of misogynistic violence (which, way to take away the agency of women’s sexualities, you dumb bitches), but when they IN THEORY have a "choice" because they also like women, their attraction to men is active instead of passive, and thus they're cock-sucking sluts who’re choosing to endanger themselves. You see women whose desire for men is active, as deserving of whatever results from their involvement with men. You can't be a biphobe without being a misogynist.

You see bisexuality as a fractured amalgam of homosexuality + heterosexuality instead of its own standalone identity, and thus they can and MUST choose one or the other, because their “heterosexual” attraction and their gay attraction are in active competition within them like the fucking two wolves shit. You can’t be a biphobe without being a homophobe.

Bi women's attraction to men is NOT normalized and biphobes are living proof of it. It's not normalized; they're bisexual, not straight. Their attraction to men coexists with, interlinks with and isn't independent of their attraction to women. Bi women ARE shamed and punished for liking men because they don't like men alone, they simultaneously like women and those are inseparable for them.

If it was normalized, it wouldn't be widespread to blame them for the abuse they receive when involved with men, like they should pick a side for their abuse to count or matter. They wouldn't be pushed out of LGBT spaces for being with men, it wouldn't be seen by other LGBT people (even many bi women themselves) as a flaw in their sexuality that makes them a gay-straight chimera. They wouldn't feel ashamed of their attraction to men. They wouldn't be seen with suspicion for liking men if it was normalized.

Them simultaneously liking men is seen as not loving men "correctly" AND as not loving women “correctly”. No LGBT women (including cis bi women and straight trans women) are seen as doing love and sex "correctly".

You can only claim bi women's attraction to men is normalized if you see bisexuality as a Lego combo of straight + gay and thus their attraction to men is separable from their attraction to women. It's not. They're not cherry-picked bits and pieces of heterosexuality and homosexuality. They're 100% bisexual, always, no matter in what way their bisexuality expresses itself. Be it bisexual with no preference, bisexual with a preference for women, or bisexual with a preference for men.

It's not 50-50% straight-gay, 25-75% straight-gay, or 80-20% straight-gay respectively. ALL are 100% bisexual-bisexual. If you can't respect that, you're a homophobe and a misogynist.

And yes, it is HOMOphobic to see bi women with suspicion for liking men. You see "homosexual" attraction as inherently in jeopardy if there's a coexisting "heterosexual" attraction because the gay one will be lesser and you see the "straight" one as a threat that'll take precedent. That’s your gay insecurity from internalized homophobia speaking.

Then too, there's a reason biphobes think bi men are secretly gay, and bi women are secretly straight. You see men as the superior and inevitable choice for both. That's misogyny. If you're a biphobe, you ARE undoubtedly a misogynist and a homophobe, even if you're gay and/or a woman yourself.

Every time people make armchair judgements of bisexual women as man-worshipers all I can think of is my sister who cried rivers of tears to me about how painful and stressing it is to over-perform her attraction to men who're not even her type (she likes gnc men!) just to stay closeted, and when I think of that, I wish so badly I could slap each and every person doing that.

And yeah! You read right, GNC MEN. Bisexuality is "gay enough", "even" in their different-gender attraction, that plenty of bi women prefer gnc men, and plenty of bi men prefer gnc women. In fact, plenty of bi people, including the cis ones, are gnc themselves (with a specific tendency towards androgyny but there's many who're distinctly masculine/feminine at it) and thus much more visible as gay than someone like me; a fucking lesbian, but I'm fem-presenting.

"Bi people can stay closeted while in relationships." So can gay men and lesbians who have beards, who hide our partners, whose partners are trans and closeted, if we're trans and closeted ourselves, or if we’re single and not visibly gnc.

My relationship would be seen as straight by outsiders because my fiancé is a closeted trans lesbian. Unless you’re a transphobe you would NOT call that a fucking privilege. It’s not a fucking privilege that she’s forced to hide herself and hide that the nature of her exclusive love for women is gay. That shit fucking kills her inside. It’s not a privilege that to keep the love of my life safe and myself too I have to pretend that our love is straight when it was so fucking hard for me to just detect, let alone ACCEPT and take pride in that I don’t like men.

All of that keeps us safe, but at great emotional cost. Being closeted is safety for all LGBT people, but it’s not a privilege, it’s PAINFUL. You understand this when it comes to gay men and lesbians, and can feel compassion for us. Why not for bi people? Why are you so angry at bi people? Why do you hold so much contempt for bi people?

I'll tell you why: BECAUSE YOU'RE BIGOTS.

#biphobia tw #⚢

[cakesunflower]

Outer Banks Series Rewrite/JJ Maybank Fic Series [5. Midsummers]

Disclaimer: None of the characters (except for Stella) or their dialogues (for the most part) are my own, and belong to the writers & creators of Outer Banks!

Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read on AO3!

Here’s episode 5 “Midsummers”!

“Dude—Mom catches you out here, and you’re dead.” Stella peeked one eye open, catching sight of her sister standing over her, arms crossed over her chest and eyebrows raised. “You’re literally out in the open.”

Kie’s concern came from the pen Stella was currently twirling between her fingers as she lay on the ground in their backyard. Stella didn’t say anything, instead took another pull from the pen, letting the familiar smoke invade her lungs before blowing it out slowly. The act did its job in calming her down, and Kiara let out a sigh before shifting to sit down next to Stella, before going down on her back, too.

Stella could feel her sister’s gaze on her as Kie turned her head to look at her, but Stella kept her gaze up at the sky. It was sort of cloudy, but there wasn’t a threat for rain. If there had been, the celebration later tonight would’ve been rescheduled ages ago.

“Look, I know you’re worried about JJ—” Kie began, but Stella cut her off.

“He willingly let himself get arrested for something he didn’t do, and he has a drug-addict, abusive dad to go back home to. We haven’t heard from him yet.” Stella looked at Kie, then, jaw hard. “Of course I’m worried.”

Kie’s gaze was soft with sympathy, but Stella could see her own concern swimming, too. After all, Kie cared about JJ as well. Maybe not in the way Stella did, but just as good. “He’ll turn up,” Kie assured. “He always does.”

Despite Kie’s efforts, Stella wasn’t all that comforted. And maybe Kie saw the deep worry that had etched itself into Stella’s features, because Kie’s face softened even more, looking at her sister gently as she asked, “What’s going on?”

Stella’s throat worked as her heart drummed in her chest, forcing herself into a sitting position while Kie kept on her back, looking up at her. For a moment, Stella hesitantly chewed on her lower lip, wondering if now was the right time to indulge, but it was Kie. It was her sister, and if Stella couldn’t tell her, she couldn’t tell anyone.

“JJ and I kissed.” There. She said it. Now it was out in the open.

Kie blinked once before her eyes widened almost comically, shooting up in a sitting position opposite of Stella as she demanded, “What? When?”

“Yesterday,” Stella admitted, stomach flipping as memories of her and JJ’s actions played through her mind like her favorite movie. She couldn’t stop the small smile from playing on her lips. “We were at John B’s, before coming to the summer series.” She fiddled with the pen between her fingers. “It just—it kind of just happened.”

Kie scoffed with a shake of her head. “It didn’t kind of just happen,” she mocked. “This has been waiting to happen for so Goddamn long.” Stella tried not to laugh at the happiness shining in Kie’s eyes, which did a lot to relax Stella. She’d been worried Kie would ram on her for breaking one of their friend group rules, but Kie seemed anything but disappointed. Her eyes widened then, shoulders lifting. “Oh, shit, John B and Pope owe me twenty bucks!”

Stella blinked. “I’m sorry—what?”

Kie snickered, looking all too delighted. “We kind of had a bet going on over how long it’d take for you and JJ to get together.” Stella’s eyes widened, jaw dropping in disbelief. “I bet it’d happen before Midsummers and would you look at that! You just made me forty bucks richer, sis.”

“Wha—” Stella cut herself off with a scoff, ripping up some grass before tossing it at Kie. She shrieked through a laugh, jerking back before brushing away the pieces of grass. “Are you kidding me?! You guys bet on us?”

“Of course we did,” Kie responded with a smirk, not at all looking apologetic. At Stella’s gaping expression, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Stel. You two have been dancing around each other for so fucking long. We were getting tired of waiting, so we thought we’d have some fun with it,” she finished with a shrug.

Stella couldn’t believe what she was hearing, cheeks heating up at the information. She wasn’t mad or upset that her sister and friends bet on when she and JJ would get together—she was just surprised, and a little bit amused. She wondered how long the bet had been going on for. But instead of asking that, she instead inquired, “So I’m guessing JJ and I are in the clear for breaking the no Pogue-on-Pogue macking rule?”

Kie waved her off, smile still in place. “You two are the exception to the rule,” she said confidently before crossing her legs and shooting Stella an expectant look. “So? Tell me how it was.” She quickly held a hand up. “But not too many details because it’s JJ and he’s like my brother and, ew, gross. But I still wanna know! How’d it happen?”

At that, the heat in Stella’s cheeks intensified into a fire as she recalled every single detail from yesterday—as if she could ever forget. “I was, uh, persuading him to come to the summer series with us.”

Kie’s eyebrows shot up. “Persuading, huh?” she repeated with an impish grin, prompting Stella to let out a giggle. “Well, looks like it worked. Not that I’m surprised. That boy is stupid for you.”

Stella pressed her lips together to keep her giddy smile from widening. “Stop.”

Kie snickered. “Man, you two are gonna be unbearable now, aren’t you? All over each other all of the time.”

“Dude, I don’t even know what we’re doing,” Stella instantly responded with a shake of her head. “All we did was kiss. We’re not suddenly together, Kie.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Only a matter of time.”

Stella’s heart fluttered in her chest. Of course she wanted to be with JJ—it was all she could think about for so long. After that kiss, it was closer to being a reality than she could ever imagine, but they needed to talk about it, first. “Maybe. But first he needs to let us know he’s okay and that his dad didn’t fucking kill him.”

Her words were tight in her throat as she said them, sending a new jolt of worry through her. JJ never really talked about it, but she knew the kind of man his dad was, knew what he was capable of. JJ getting arrested wasn’t going to go over well; it wouldn’t with any parent, but God only knew how Luke Maybank would react to it. So, yeah, Stella was sick with worry over JJ, and she just fucking wished he’d call or text her back.

Kie sighed. “Listen, maybe—”

Whatever Kie was about to say was interrupted by their mother’s voice shouting at them from the back porch. “Girls! Get in here! You need to start getting ready.” Simultaneously, both Stella and Kie threw their heads back and groaned, loudly—loud enough for Mrs. Carrera to hear them. “I don’t wanna hear it! Get your butts in here now!”

They stood up, and as Stella shoved her pen in the pocket of her shorts, Kie grumbled, “I hate everything.”

While every other soul on Figure Eight either was overjoyed to be attending Midsummers or envious that they couldn’t, Stella and Kiara were probably the only ones who hated the party. For Kie, it was more of a socialist thing that Stella respected her for, but she also knew that her sister’s disgust with Midsummers, ultimately, existed for the same reason as Stella’s: they hated the people they were surrounded by.

All of the Kooks would be gathered tonight for the party—this year a celebration for Ward Cameron, A.K.A the father of Sarah Cameron, Kie’s worst enemy. Stella didn’t care what the party was for—she despised it. The most Stella liked to dress up was in clothes of her choice, and sure that could sometimes include make-up and dresses, but not full on evening gowns with flowers in her hair. It often felt like she was getting dressed up as a lamb for a slaughter, being pushed into a crowd of Kooks who thought they were better than everyone else because of their overflowing pockets. The adults were bad enough—Stella did not want to even see the people her age.

Namely Rafe, Topper, Kelce, and anyone who was associated with them. Especially after what they did to JJ and Pope yesterday. Dicks.

But Midsummers, much to both Stella and Kie’s chagrin, was important to their parents, especially their mother. So as soon as the two girls returned inside the house, Mrs. Carrera was ushering them towards the bathrooms, like they were toddlers who needed supervised bath times.

“Hold on a second—” Mr. Carrera paused, and Stella and Kie exchanged looks when their mom sniffed the air around them. Her eyes then zeroed in on Stella, hands on her hips and eyes blazing as she demanded, “Did you just smoke, Stella?”

Knowing there was no point in lying, Stella huffed. “I needed something to take the edge off if I have to go to this stupid party.”

This wasn’t the first time their mom caught them smoking or smelling of weed, but it pissed her off just the same. While Kie tried to stifle a smile, Mrs. Carrera glared daggers at her Stella. “You’re not getting out of this, Stella. You better drown yourself in body wash and perfume when you get ready.”

Stella rolled her eyes behind her mom’s back, but listened all the same, albeit reluctantly. Kie was the first to hop into the shower in their shared bathroom, so Stella took the time to lay in her bed and unlock her phone, hoping to see a text or missed call from JJ. Her heart jumped when she saw just one text from him, chest tight as she read it quickly.

JJ: Don’t worry about me. I’m good. I’ll see u later.

That was it. Just ten words of reassurance and then nothing. Part of Stella was relieved to have received anything from him at all, but another part still felt worried and a little annoyed. She—all of them—had been worried sick over him after yesterday, and this was all he could say? Stella figured she shouldn’t be too surprised. It was typical JJ behavior. He got in a bind and somehow got himself out of it, and never really let his friends in on if anything was wrong. But the tough guy persona could only get him so far.

Chewing on her lower lip, Stella drafted a text, but not to JJ. Instead, she sent a message to John B.

Stella: You heard from JJ? Do you think he’s okay?

John B responded within moments.

John B: Yeah, it’s all good. I’m with him right now. We’ll see you guys tonight, alright? Keep an eye out.

Stella blinked at the cryptic message, wondering what the hell he was talking about. But if recent circumstances were any indicator, something was probably going down tonight. Stella’s stomach flipped in both apprehension and excitement. These boys might be the death of her.

Soon enough, Kie was out of the bathroom and it was Stella’s turn. She showered and brushed her teeth, stepping back into her room to catch sight of a satin slip dress with a halter neck waiting for her on her bed. It was a pretty golden color with a V-neck trimmed with lace, and a pair of white and gold sandals were waiting by the bed, too. Stella huffed, the towel wrapped tightly around her. She knew for a fact that her mother thought she needed to have everything out for her otherwise Stella would be useless in getting dressed for Midsummers. It was kind of insulting.

Stella expertly dried her hair, letting the natural curls come into place, before doing her makeup. She kept it light, as always, because not even Midsummers was going to make her slap on a face full of makeup, especially in the middle of summer. Some foundation, mascara, highlighter, and lipstick was as far as she went, with her jewelry consisting of a dainty diamond star necklace and the rings on her fingers.

“Oh, good, you’re dressed,” Mrs. Carrera said upon entering her room. “Come on, let me do your hair.”

Stella frowned but listened, sitting down in front of her dresser while her mom stood behind her. She worked quickly and efficiently, braiding back the two front locks of her hair and intertwining small yellow flowers in them that Stella tried not to wrinkle her nose at.

As her mom worked, Kie wandered into Stella’s room. Her slip dress was spaghetti strapped and a lavender color, a couple of layered necklaces around her neck, and her hair down in an updo with a crown of pink and purple flowers and locks of curly hair framing her face. She looked stunning, even with that scowl she wore as she stormed into the room.

“This is disgusting,” she announced without preamble.

Mrs. Carrera wove another flower into Stella’s braid, her voice dry above her as she responded, “I know. It’s just horrible. I’m asking you two to relax and go to a fun party.”

Kie scoffed, towering over their mom. They may be twins, but Kie somehow got the tall gene from their dad, standing at the elegant 5’8”, while Stella hadn’t grown past 5’5”. “We look like bourgeoisie pigs.”

Stella tried to keep the snort from escaping, covering it up with a cough as their mom finally patted down Stella’s hair, letting out a satisfied hum before stepping back. She shot Kie an exasperated look and said, “Will you please not worry about socioeconomic injustice for one night?”

Kie scowled and Stella’s face scrunched up. This was so much more than that. She twisted around in the seat and stood up, crossing her arms and siding with Kie, “Mom, people not three miles from here have no power, no running water—and we’re going to Midsummers.”

Kie nodded vigorously, gesturing to Stella. “That’s so tone deaf.”

Mrs. Carrera huffed, picking up the little pouch she’d dropped on the dressing table and pulling out the diamond earrings. As she put one in, she said, “Do you know how hard we had to work to get into the Island Club?”

Both Stella and Kie rolled their eyes, having heard this a hundred times before. “Yeah, Mom, how could we forget?” Stella sighed. “You had to grovel for, like, ten years—”

“Twelve,” Mrs. Carrera corrected, “and we also had to cough up a huge chunk of dough, and do you know why we did that?”

Kie wasn’t impressed. “To keep up with the Joneses?”

Mrs. Carrera’s hands were on her hips, looking at her daughter pointedly. “No. So you two could have the experiences that I had as a child. Sweethearts, do you know what the Island Club is?”

“A factory farm for debutantes,” Kie flatly said at the same time Stella said, “Where brain cells go to die.”

Kie gave her a subtle fist bump as their mother glared at them before smiling exasperatedly. She placed one hand on each of their cheeks, looking at both of them as she said, “It is a nice place, with nice people, where you can do fun stuff.”

Neither of them bought the company line. “With out of touch rich people,” Stella added.

Kie rightfully finished, “While the island sinks slowly into the ocean.”

Their mom dropped her hands from their cheeks, stepping back and shooting them a look. Clearly, she was done trying with her stubborn daughters. “Okay, I want you two to put on your party faces if you wanna live,” she said before walking out of the room.

Both Stella and Kie sighed, looking at each other in resigned defeat. Stella picked up her pen, offering a half hearted smile. “Wanna take a hit before we go?”

Kie scoffed, taking it from her. “Or maybe ten.”

Less than fifteen minutes later, the girls were at the Island Club with their parents, and instead of doing the polite thing and greeting the other party goers, Stella spotted a familiar face and grabbed Kie’s hand, jerking her chin to where Pope was working out on the lawn at the grill. She’d almost forgotten that he was working the party with his dad. Thank God for small miracles.

As they approached him, his back to the girls, Kie startled Stella by speaking in a terrible British accent, “Excuse me, sir. Do we have to shuck these ourselves?” Pope swiveled around as Kie grinned and Stella shook her head in bemusement. “’Cause it might mess up my costume.”

Pope chuckled. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” he asked and Stella stepped forward with a laugh, slapping her hand against his, front and back, before ending with a snap of her fingers. Their handshake. As he repeated the act with Kie, Pope added, “That accent was bad.”

Kie nodded. “It was. I was gonna let it go.”

Stella scoffed. “I wish you had,” she said as they came to stand next to Pope, arms folded across her chest. The three of them observed the scene before them, of all the guests gathered around in their fancy dresses and suits, drinking from flutes of champagne or drinks from the bar. “You ever seen this many Kooks in one place?”

“Yeah. Last year,” Pope answered.

Kie was squinting against the sun, but just like Stella’s, her brown skin glowed a pretty golden color against it. “We’re in the lion’s den.”

“Exactly.”

Pope glanced at the two of them, gaze lingering on Stella longer as he asked, “Have you heard from JJ?”

Kie shook her head. “No.”

“Just a text,” Stella answered, prompting Kie to look towards her, raising an eyebrow. Stella’s lips pursed. “He said he was okay and not to worry about him. But I won’t really believe it until I see him.”

“He’ll be all right,” Kie said, frowning to herself. “He’s got the survival instincts of a cockroach.”

Stella swallowed inaudibly. Kie wasn’t really wrong.

“It’s all my fault,” Pope said, the guilt thick in his tone as he frowned at nothing. He looked like he might be sick over everything that’s happened.

Stella frowned as Kie said, “Uh, you didn’t do this, Pope.”

“Yeah,” Stella chimed in firmly. “Topper almost killed you. Remember?”

He shot her a dry look. “Not something I can forget.”

Stella shot him a small smile. “JJ was just trying to do right by you. He—he knew what he was doing.” She stumbled over her words briefly because, well, she wasn’t entirely sure if she believed them. She believed that JJ thought he was doing the right thing, but getting arrested was no small thing. He was just adding onto his record, and this time for something he didn’t even do. JJ put loyalty above anything else, and it was one of her favorite things about him—until it landed him in trouble he might not be able to get out of.

Midsummers, as expected, was boring as usual. The adults drank and the teens snuck in their own alcohol in hidden flasks, dancing to the music from the live band while almost everyone kissed Ward Cameron’s ass. Stella stuck by Kie’s side, mostly because she didn’t care for anyone else there and because Kie kept glaring at Sarah Cameron, who looked like the perfect Kook princess. She was missing her not-so-Prince Charming, Topper, who seemed to be sticking by Rafe and Kelce’s sides than with Sarah. Hmm. Interesting.

At one point, Stella excused herself to go to the bathroom, walking inside the country club and down the hall. She did her business, ignoring the giggles of the few other girls inside as she washed her hands. Just as she stepped out of the bathroom, however, she let out a gasp and stumbled into the doorframe as a figure rushed off in front of her, her gaze instantly following.

She’d recognize those blonde locks anywhere.

Stella’s heart thundered, gripping the doorframe tightly as she called out, “JJ?”

*****

Despite the severity of needing to find a hiding spot or escape, the sound of Stella’s voice had JJ stopping in his tracks. He turned, catching sight of her down the hall, too far down the hall, looking every bit as breathtaking as he expected her to in a golden dress that hugged her so perfectly. And the way she was looking at him—the surprise and relief and tenderness he was sure she reserved just for him—had JJ’s heart pounding right out of his chest, and not just because he was trying to save himself at the moment.

“Stella—” JJ stopped, looking through the glass of the doors, seeing Rafe, Kelce, and three of their suited up buddies purposefully making their way over. “Shit.” His blue eyes met her concerned brown ones. “Sweetheart, I’ll explain everything later, but I gotta run right now. Just—I’ll see you in a little, okay?”

“Wait, JJ—”

But he didn’t stick around, as much as he wanted to, and instead turned and ran off just as he heard Rafe and his buddies walk in. They’d spotted him talking to Sarah because he’d needed to give her a letter from John B, after he’d spoken to and received a surprising hug from Pope, and now they were hot on his ass looking to throw more punches. JJ’d already received a beating from his dad—he didn’t need anymore, thank you very much.

Except he made his way into the men’s room, and Rafe and his buddies were pretty fast and managed to corner him no problem. Five against one—this was totally fair. Assholes.

Rafe pushed him and JJ grunted, struggling as Kelce came up behind him and locked an arm around the front of his neck, the other keeping his head in place as JJ grabbed at Kelce’s arm to loosen the grip. He struggled, heart pounding, as Rafe looked at his friends. “Hold him still. What—what do you think? A four iron, right?” He mimicked holding a golf club. “Keep his head still. I’m gonna line this up.”

JJ didn’t make it easy for Kelce to keep him still. “Very Rafe of you,” JJ said through gritted teeth. “Five on one?”

Rafe looked pristine in his stupid blue suit and bowtie. JJ hoped he’d choke on it. “If you could please stop talking? It’s very disrespectful. I’m trying to hit a ball.” Oh, fuck no. “Learn your etiquette, my friend.”

JJ kept grunting, struggling against Kelce, using his hands as much as he could to try and get away. JJ’s voice was hoarse against Kelce’s grip as he spat back, “I’m gonna kick your teeth in.” As much fire as there was in his voice, JJ wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to deliver on his promise. Not when the odds were stacked against him.

Rafe smirked sardonically, crouching to look up at JJ with a mocking sort of sympathy. “Your face looks really bad. Starting to look like your dad a lot more.”

The insult was grating, especially given that the bruises and cuts on his face were courtesy of his father. JJ couldn’t do much more than spit in Rafe’s face. He jerked back, wiping the saliva off his face as he grinned. “Oh, shit. Alright. It was—”

The lights began flickering. “Gentlemen!” Kelce roughly let go of JJ and pushed him off, prompting the blonde to struggle before he righted himself. The security guard approached them. “Is there a problem?”

“Oh! Pardon me, officer. No, there’s not an issue. I just—” JJ cut himself off, his breathing labored as he panted to catch his breath. He looked at the others and JJ ran his fingers through his hair before deciding on a different course of action. One he knew would likely get him out of this. “Actually, yes. No, there is an issue. Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep!” He waved a finger around. “Call it in, right?” The others looked at him, trying to appear casual and like they weren’t doing anything wrong. “Blatant disrespect for private property.”

Rafe clicked his tongue, scratching his ear. “Yeah.”

JJ turned to the guard. “I’m in violation of all kinds of shit, sir, but these young gentlemen—” He made a show of righting Kelce’s bowtie before he jerked him away.

“Don’t touch my shit,” Kelce said lowly.

JJ continued, “Uh, caught me, sir, and they’re about to take me away. And that’s what you should do.” He held his fists up like he was ready to be handcuffed. Again. “Escort me out of here. You got me.”

The guard grabbed his arm. JJ was relieved. “Come on.”

“All right.” JJ looked over his shoulder as the guard pulled him out, looking at the Kooks. “Fix that tie, son,” he said to Kelce before looking at Rafe. “You’re lookin’ spiffy, too. You Powerpuff Girls have fun,” he turned back around.

Rafe took a step forward, his voice smug. “Tell Stella she looks pretty hot for a scarred Pogue.”

Fire erupted in JJ’s veins at Rafe’s comment, a newfound anger rushing through him at the blatant insult from the son of a bitch. JJ didn’t care who they were—nobody talked about Stella like that. Not at all, not in front of him. JJ’s body moved at his own accord, a low growl escaping him as he jerked away from the guard and tried to launch himself at Rafe, consequences be damned of a five against one. The asshole insulted Stella. JJ couldn’t just let him get away with that.

He rushed towards Rafe, only for Kelce to jump in and push him away as the guard came to his back and pulled him away. “Hey! Stop it. Come here! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

But JJ struggled, the urge to bury his fist in Rafe’s face overwhelming after his words. “You think I’m afraid of you, bro?”

The guard pulled him back. “Come on.”

JJ turned and was guided out as Rafe’s voice followed him out of the locker room. “Hey, safe travels back to the cut!”

JJ shouted back, “This ain’t over!”

The guard didn’t let his grip on JJ go as he guided him down the halls and towards the doors, his grip tight as they burst through the doors out onto the patio. “Look, man, I can walk myself!” JJ exclaimed, earning gasps and looks from the guests at him being escorted out. “I got legs. Can you see that, brother?”

The guard didn’t seem to care. “Come on.”

“I really appreciate what you did back there. Let me just walk out by myself.” He struggled against the guard’s grip before spotting the older gentleman from earlier who had asked JJ for a drink. At this point, JJ didn’t care for the attention he was drawing on himself, stumbling over to where the man stood. “Mr. Dunleavy, I see you got your drink. Good, that’s really nice of you. I’m actually gonna down that,” he said quickly before grabbing the drink and downing the whiskey in one gulp.

The man gaped at him, the guard apologized before pulling JJ away. Everyone was watching, murmuring, and JJ never had mastered the art of subtlety, so he made a commotion as he was so kindly escorted out. Might as fucking well go out with a bang.

“Let go of him!” JJ turned at the sound of Stella’s voice, standing up on the patio with Kie by her side. Their parents were behind them, quietly telling Stella to stay quiet while her gaze met JJ’s. He stopped, kind of fucking mesmerized by the sight of her. “You can’t just boot him!”

The guard stopped, still holding onto JJ, who was still watching her. “Excuse me, ma’am?” the guard asked.

“I invited him here,” Stella continued, her voice loud and carrying over the newfound silence amongst the crowd. Everyone was looking at her, but she didn’t seem to give a shit, and JJ kind of fell in love with her all over again.

Next to her, JJ could hear her mom say, “Stella, stop it.”

“No, she’s right,” Kie spoke up, glaring at her parents and then at the guard. “We’re members of this club.”

“Girls, stop it,” Mr. Carrera seemed to be saying to them.

JJ took the opportunity of the guard being distracted to jerk out of his grip and push him, wincing as the man went stumbling into a waiter carrying a tray full of glasses that went shattering on the ground. “Sorry about that!” JJ said over the commotion before looking towards the girls. He pointed at them, blonde hair falling over his shoulders. “Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, ladies.” His gaze found Pope’s amidst the crowd’s. “Pope, you as well, all right? Rixon’s cove. Let’s roll.” He was walking backwards, people making their way for him as they all gaped at him in disbelief and annoyance. JJ looked back at the girls, holding his arm up. “All right, girls, come on.” He gripped his wrist. “Workers of the world unite. Throw off your chains!”

His gaze met Stella’s, who was watching him in, what he realized with relief, was amusement. He saw the looks she and Kie exchanged, a silent communication going on between the twins while their parents most definitely murmured warnings at them. And then, much to JJ’s relief, Stella and Kie broke away before running down the stairs.

JJ grinned widely, finally facing John B, who had been watching the whole thing with a grin. “Colonel.”

John B returned the salute JJ offered him. “Captain.”

JJ grinned. “Mission accomplished, sir.”

John B laughed as JJ shouted for the girls, watching as Pope pulled off his apron and handed it to his dad before running towards John B and JJ, all the while Mr. Heyward yelled, “Don’t do this! Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

But Pope didn’t listen, instead high fived John B and JJ, before John B ran off ahead and the two of them faced the girls running over, as well. Kie and Pope ran side by side, laughing, and JJ opened his arms so Stella could run into his embrace, and he laughed into her neck as he lifted her off the ground with a spin before setting her down, grasping her hand in his, and following the others as they ran.

“Later, losers!” John B shouted over his shoulder towards the partygoers.

Stella was laughing, the sound brilliant and wonderful in JJ’s ears as Kie cheered while they ran. JJ couldn’t help but laugh as well. It may have been a shitty couple of days, but at least he had his friends.

*****

The fire crackled between them as Stella sat on a log next to JJ. The cicadas were chirping against the otherwise quiet of the night, and JJ had changed out of the waiter get up and was back in his signature hat, shirt, and shorts combo. The sight of the shark tooth necklace Stella had gifted him around his neck always made her chest tighten in the best way. She and Kie were still in their Midsummers dresses, but mosquitos and bugs never bothered Stella, so she sat comfortably as the fire warmed them.

She kept looking towards JJ, though—at the cuts and bruises on his face. The sight of him injured tightened her chest uncomfortably, made her stomach twist nauseatingly. No doubt his dad had done this to him, and it enraged her. She wished, with every fiber of her being, that she could get him as far away from his dad as possible. It hurt, so badly, to see JJ injured at the hands of his abusive father. JJ, despite what others may see as faults and flaws, was probably the best person she knew. He had such a big heart, a soul that deserved to be loved and protected instead of stepped on and beaten. She desperately wished she could protect him from the cruelty of others. He deserved someone to do that for him.

“Hey, guys. So, like, my dad’s already gonna kill me,” Pope said as he and John B dropped some sticks to feed the fire before sitting down. “So what’s this mandatory meeting about?”

Stella watched as John B looked at JJ, pointing at him as if he needed permission. JJ nodded. “Might as well tell him, man, before we’re gaffed.”

John B smiled like he held some kind of secret. “You ready for this?” he asked, looking at Kie and Stella.

The two girls nodded impatiently. “Yeah.”

The fire glowed against John B’s skin as he looked at all of them. “So, the gold never went down with the Royal Merchant.”

Stella blinked as Pope groaned. “Oh, my God. Here we go again with this.”

Next to her, JJ sat up, holding out a calming hand to Pope. “No, all right, wait. Hear him out, all right?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at Pope and the girls.

John B had a finger to his lips before continuing, “It’s been here this whole time.” He looked to Kie. “It’s on the island.”

Her expression was one of shocked disbelief. “Are you serious?” She looked at John B before laughing in astonishment. “Oh, my God.”

Pope held up a hand. “I’d like to voice my skepticism.”

Stella was still trying to wrap her head around what John B said as he stood up. “I’m sure you would, Pope, but can I please present you with my evidence, sir?”

Pope rolled his eyes. “Proceed.”

John B held up a piece of paper he pulled out from his bag, proceeding to tell them about a letter he had from Denmark Tanny, a slave who had survived the wreck of the Royal Merchant. He showed it to Pope and the girls, telling them that the slaves weren’t mentioned as crew members on the ship, but that his dad found the complete manifest—his big discovery. Stella listened attentively, mouth agape, looking towards JJ who nodded with a smile on his face. He knew all of this already, it seemed. It was probably why he and John B had been together earlier.

“So Tanny used the gold from the Merchant to buy his freedom,” John B was saying. “After that, he bought his farm. Drumroll, please, because that farm is,” he paused dramatically as the group of them slapped their knees with their hands. “Tannyhill Plantation.”

Kie stopped. “Tannyhill?”

John B nodded, standing like a professor giving a lecture. “Yeah. So, after that, he used his money to free even more slaves, and then he sold a shit-ton of rice, which pisses off all the white planters, and then they decide to lynch him. So on the day they were coming to get him, he writes a letter to his son as a farewell, and in the last line of that letter, he leaves a coded message about where to find the gold.”

John B had Stella’s attention as she hung onto his every word, shaking her head as she asked, “Where?”

John B grinned. “Harvest the wheat in parcel nine, near the water.” He held up a hand. “Except, there is no wheat. You see, wheat is code for gold. Check this out.” He walked over to Pope, pointing at something in the paper Pope was holding. Stella leaned over to look as well. “The gold is in parcel nine, near the water.”

Kie laughed in disbelief as Pope murmured, “Holy shit.”

John B slapped his arm. “All we need is an original survey map of the property and we’ve found the gold.”

He was grinning widely as JJ stood up. Pope slowly started, “Okay, so this might have a small chance of being actually true.”

Kie bounced excitedly where she sat. “Dude, it’s like King Tut!” she exclaimed, earning a laugh from Stella.

“I am a genius,” John B announced, just as JJ tackled him into a hug. “Hey, whoa!” They teetered slightly where they stood before JJ lifted John B up. “Hello! Fire! You’re near the fire. You’re gonna burn.”

JJ pulled away and Stella snickered as he said, “I’m so proud of you right now.”

John B nodded somberly. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”

With a shake of her head, Stella interrupted the moment by asking, “Okay, so, guys.” They all looked towards her. “What’s the plan?”

John B pointed at her as JJ made his way back. “Good question. Sarah Cameron’s coming tonight. She’ll bring the original survey map—”

JJ sat down next to Stella just as her eyes widened, gaping at John B before her gaze instantly shot to Kie, who was frowning. “Hold on,” she interrupted. “Sarah? Wh-why Sarah?”

Stella tensed, looking between a bewildered Kie and a hesitant John B. She and Pope exchanged glances, both of them suddenly aware of the tension building in the open space. “Um—” John B trailed off.

JJ took off his head, muttering, “This is gonna be good.”

Stella looked at him, catching the wince he shot her way. Silently, she frowned at him, but JJ shook his head before nodding towards John B, who stood with his fists on his hips. “Sarah, um, she. . . She got me into the archives in Chapel Hill yesterday, and there’s where I got the letter.”

Kie’s face scrunched up even more, looking a mix of pissed off and confused, while Stella gaped up at John B. “You were in Chapel Hill with Sarah Cameron?”

John B’s throat worked. “Yeah, um. . .”

Next to her, JJ announced, “He was mackin’ on her.”

Stella gasped as she stared at him, wide eyed, and JJ nodded somberly while Pope coughed uncomfortably into his fist. Across the fire, Kie was glaring up at John B, and Stella hated the betrayal she could already see melting into Kie’s eyes. John B shot JJ a glare. “I wasn’t macking.”

JJ lifted his chin, unrelenting. “You were totally macking Sarah Cameron.”

He wasn’t helping the situation, so Stella lightly flicked his arm, prompting JJ to immediately look at her, pressing his cut lips together to keep himself from smirking. She narrowed her eyes in warning, and all JJ did was link their arms together and pull her to his side.

“I wasn’t macking on her, okay?” John B spoke up, exasperated. “I was using her for access.”

JJ scoffed lightly. “There was access, alright.”

Stella pinched his side at that, despite the inappropriate laugh threatening to burst. Kie wouldn’t appreciate it, and Stella could tell her twin was seconds away from pushing John B into the fire. “Did you tell her about the treasure?” Kie demanded.

John B’s eyes widened. “I was trying to get into the archives.”

Kie’s voice grew loud with disbelief. “Is that a yes?”

“I. . . I left out key details,” John B said, looking to the others for help. Stella pressed her lips together, pressed up against JJ. If anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything, not with the current situation going on. Poor John B wasn’t going to get help on this.

“Yo, what?” Kie scoffed with a shake of her head. “You let a Kook in on our secret? What about Pogue Lyfe? What about the T-shirt company, bro?”

Suddenly, it was a battle between Kie and John B, and all Stella, JJ, and Pope could do was sit on the sidelines silently and watch. “I was just using her for information,” John B tried.

Kie shot him a wry look. “Why don’t I believe you?”

John B was growing exasperated already, shaking his head at the unhelpfulness of the others before looking back at Kie. “I’m trying to make us filthy rich here, okay, so that we can pay off a boat, or. . . or, uh. . .” He looked towards Pope, “send you to autopsy school to study bed bodies.” Stella’s face scrunched up as JJ suppressed a snort and Pope blinked owlishly. “Look, you guys know me. Do I look like the type of person to fall for Sarah Cameron?”

JJ blinked. “Uh—”

Stella tilted her head at John B. “Do you want us to answer that?” She could guarantee neither he nor Kie would appreciate the answer.

John B held up a hand at Stella. “Just—just stop.”

Kie shook her head, her jaw tight as she frowned deeply. “Look, you don’t know her yet. I do! You can’t trust her.”

Pope chimed in, “Her brother did hit me in the back with a golf club.”

John B looked to Pope. “Rafe and Sara are different human beings.”

JJ’s cheek was resting on top of Stella’s head as he asked Kie, “What did she do to you, exactly?”

Stella sighed. Oh, boy.

Kie held up two fingers and jabbed them forward. “She’s like a. . . a spitting cobra.” Everyone blinked, bewildered. “First she—she blinds you, and then—”

Stella was already shaking her head, sitting up straight as she said to her struggling sister, “This is a bad analogy.”

“Listen to me!” Kie exclaimed, clearly fed up with the situation. “Whatever we get, she’s gonna try to take.”

Her words were met by silence, other than the crackling fire and chirping cicadas. John B stood quietly, throat working, clearly unsure of what to say as JJ and Pope stayed in their own awkward silence, too. Stella suppressed a sigh. It seemed as though it was up to her to smooth things over, even if she did slightly side with Kie in all of this. She didn’t have a begrudging hate towards Sarah like Kie did, but they were sisters, and Stella needed to show solidarity. But she could also, in some way, see John B’s side of things. God, this was gonna be tense.

“Kie,” Stella spoke up carefully, prompting Kie’s gaze to connect with hers. “Whatever John B promised Sarah, that’s his issue. But if she’s the only way we can get the map, then we need to let it happen.”

Kie’s jaw was hard. “I don’t want her involved. I don’t want to deal with her.”

“We won’t,” Stella said, glancing quickly at John B before looking at Kie again. “Let John B deal with her.” When Kie didn’t look entirely convinced, Stella let out a huff. “This is bigger than your beef with Sarah. I know you know that.”

Silence fell upon them for a few moments as they all waited for Kie to respond. She sat quietly, hands gripping the log she sat on, mulling over Stella’s words. Stella, in turn, hoped she got through to her sister. They needed Kie to be on board with this, no matter her issues with Sarah. They’d already gotten this far in their treasure hunt—an old beef shouldn’t hinder them now.

Stella remained quiet, waiting for Kie to make a decision, although she silently enjoyed the sensation of JJ’s fingers ghosting up and down her arm, their arms still linked together. It was calming when others would argue JJ was anything but.

“Fine,” Kie finally gave in and everyone instantly sat up. She glared at John B. “As long as I don’t have to speak to her.” John B pressed his hands together and brought them to his mouth, his grin already forming. “I just hope you know what you’re getting us into.”

After John B profusely thanked Kie for agreeing, they killed the fire and got up before heading back to the van, since they had to drive to meet Sarah. The twigs and leaves crunched under their shoes as they went, but as Pope, Kie, and John B chatted while walking ahead, Stella lingered back and grasped JJ’s hand to slow his pace down.

He looked at her, eyebrows raising. “What’s up?”

Stella looked up at him, her fingers ghosting on his chin. Finally, she let the worry come out in full force as she asked, “Are you okay? Did—” she stopped, throat working to get rid of the lump that formed. “Did your dad do this?”

JJ’s jaw worked, blue eyes glimmering under the moonlight as he looked down at her. “Got a good chunk of money to pay in restitution,” he told her. “The old man’s not too happy about it.”

Despite herself, Stella felt the hot tears sting in her eyes. She preferred the pink in JJ’s cheeks when they were flushed when he was happy or even drunk—not the pink and harsh reds that surrounded the cuts and marked the bruises. Stella wasn’t sure she ever hated anyone as much as she hated JJ’s dad. Her throat was tight, unable to say anything except to croak out his name, “JJ—”

“Hey, hey,” he shushed her, hands coming up to cup Stella’s that had been ghosting along his sharp jaw. He held her hand in both of his before pressing a kiss to it, blue eyes locked in her brown. “I’m okay, Stel. They’ll heal. It’s no big deal.”

Stella scoffed, though her concern remained clear. “You can’t actually expect me to believe that.” The flutters in her stomach returned when JJ kissed her hand, when he looked at her with those baby blue eyes she loved so much. She let out a breath. “You’re sleeping over at John B’s, right?”

JJ offered her a small dimpled grin. “When am I not?”

Stella pinned him with a stare. They’d stopped walking and she knew they had to move soon, but she took a breath. “Whenever you can, either sleep at John’s or you sleep at mine. Okay?”

JJ raised his eyebrows, though she could see his gaze soften at her offer. But he kept the mood light as he teased, “You inviting me to your room, shark bait?”

Her heart jumped. “Wouldn’t be the first time we shared a bed,” Stella pointed out. It was the truth. They shared hammocks, chairs, couches, and beds countless times before.

“Yeah, but it’s different now, isn’t it?” JJ questioned.

She looked at their hands before meeting his gaze again. “Is it?” she returned, throat working in anticipation. This was it. This was Stella asking JJ if whatever was happening between them was real, if something more was going to come out of it than a few kisses shared.

JJ’s gaze was intense, deep in a way she wasn’t used to as it stole her breath. “It is.” Steady, resolute, firm. No room for arguments. Thank fuckinf God.

Stella felt her grin appear before she could help it, relief warming her, and JJ mirrored her smile before ducking his head and pressing his lips to hers. She returned the kiss slowly, gently, not wanting to hurt his cut lips. Her heart jumped excitedly as he kissed her, but it was cut short, unfortunately, when John B’s voice cut through the air.

“Oi! What happened to no macking?”

The two of them pulled apart, but John B was grinning, as were Pope and Kie as they looked at the two of them. Stella’s face flushed as JJ slung his arm around her shoulders before they began walking towards their friends. “I’m sure we can make an exception,” JJ said smoothly, cockily.

John B’s grin was wicked. “If it means you’ll finally stop whining about how much you looooove Stel, then yes we will.”

Stella laughed, cheeks flushing, while JJ spluttered. “I never whined!” he protested as they joined their friends.

Pope rolled his eyes. “That’s true. You just bottled it all up inside because you’re emotionally constipated.”

“Sounds about right. I’m the one who made the first move,” Stella said, grinning widely at JJ’s betrayed expression, laughing as he used his arm around her to push her away. Stella continued laughing, along with the others, as she stumbled away, but didn’t lose her balance because JJ instantly caught her hand and pulled her back to his side.

“Whatever. I like an assertive woman,” JJ said with a charming grin, pressing a kiss to Stella’s temple as they neared the van.

Pointing at Pope and John B as they climbed inside, Kie said, “You two owe me twenty bucks, by the way.”

“No, we don’t!” John B argued as he started the van. “It’s after Midsummers.”

Pope nodded in agreement as Kie grinned wickedly before meeting Stella’s gaze as she sat on the back bench. With a giggle, Stella confessed, “It was actually yesterday. Before the summer movie series.”

John B and Pope’s gazes swung to JJ, who leaned back with his arms propped on top of the back bench casually as he said, “It’s true, boys.” John B shook his head and began driving, and JJ added, “Can’t believe you three bet on us.”

Sitting on the floor opposite of them, Pope scoffed. “Can’t believe it took you two this long to get together.”

“Okay!” Stella spoke up loudly, clapping her hands together once and shooting all of her friends a look. “We’re done talking about this.”

They reached their destination soon after that, a spot off in the middle of the woods where a tower stood, the apparent meeting spot John B had set up at Kildare Hawk’s Nest. As soon as he parked the car, Pope slid open the back van door as JJ slapped his knees. “Hit it, boys! We’re goin’. Recon mission.”

But before any of them could even get up, John B turned to face them. “Yo, uh. . . So, uh, I think I’m gonna do this one by myself. . . Tonight.”

Thunder rumbled overhead as Kie rolled her eyes and Stella and JJ fell back in their seats. She raised her eyebrows as JJ drawled a knowing, “Really?”

John B frowned. “What?”

JJ took off his head. “Nothin’.”

John B sighed, fixing his own hat atop his head. “I don’t want to spook Sarah with the peanut gallery.”

Kie shrugged, voice sharp and annoyed as she looked at John B. “I just don’t understand why we’re involving her at all.”

Stella let out a sigh as she leaned back, JJ now sitting on the ground next to her, his head resting against her leg as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Kie, we’re not involving her, okay?” John B said, exasperated. “It’s—it’s just, uh, like a—a business meeting. . . Thing.” On the ground, JJ made a crude motion with the joint he held and made a gulping sound, prompting Pope to grin in amusement while Stella rolled her eyes at John B. He was not selling this well. “Look, once we get what we need, we cut her loose, all right? Plus, we need the map.”

Yeah, okay. Stella wasn’t quite sure how much she believed that.

Kie pursed her lips, leaning forward as she stared John B dead in the eye. “Promise me nothing’s happening between you two.”

John B widened his eyes, answering breathily, “Nothing is happening, Kie.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Okay!”

Kie was still frowning, as if she was trying to get John B to get the message through her glare. “This isn’t about you. This isn’t about us. This is about her.” Stella pressed her lips together as she watched them. Kie’s beef with Sarah was so damn deep, she wondered if they would be able to do with if she wasn’t on board with Sarah helping out just this once. Personally, Stella didn’t give a shit about Sarah Cameron; she just didn’t like her out of principle for the way the end of that friendship hurt Kie. Everything else was between Kie and Sarah. “Dude, she’s gonna get inside your head. Just promise me nothing’s happening between you guys.”

John B looked at her as lightning flashed outside and thunder rolled. “I promise.”

“That was really believable,” JJ piped up.

Pope nodded. “A hundred percent believable.”

Stella lightly knocked JJ with her knee while glaring at Pope, effectively shutting both of them up. John B didn’t dignify them with a response, instead saying, “Anyways, um, I’m gonna take care of business.”

JJ shook his head, playing with the joint. “You’re gonna take care of it so well.”

Stella waved John B off dismissively. “We’ll just sit here,” she said dryly. “In the hot-ass car.”

Pope added, “While it’s lightning.”

They left the back door of the van open as John B got out, backpack on as he walked off towards the tower. The wind rustled outside, thunder rumbling every now and then to accompany the flashes of lightning that warned of a storm rolling in. “Kiara, holding onto your grudge is like drinking poison and thinking Sarah will die,” Pope said once John B was gone.

“Exactly,” JJ nodded.

Kie shot the two of them a withering stare before looking at Stella. Her twin merely shrugged. “You know I’m on your side,” Stella said. “But you can’t really tell John B what he can or can’t do.”

“I’m not trying to tell him what to do,” Kie shot back. “I’m just warning him against the kind of person I know Sarah is. She’s gonna fuck us over.”

“Look, we just—we just gotta trust that John B knows what he’s doing,” Pope tried to placate, looking between Stella and Kie. “That he’s using his head.”

Kie scoffed, not really convinced. “I know what head he’s using, and it isn’t the one on his shoulders.”

“That’s a good one,” JJ mumbled quietly where he sat.

They were quiet for a few minutes, just listening to the rumble of thunder, before conversation started up again. Pope had asked about what happened at Midsummers, and JJ launched into the story that led up to the Kooks cornering him in the men’s room while they waited for John B to return with the map.

JJ was saying, “Rafe and Kelce followed me—”

Kie cut him off. “Wait, do you guys hear that?” Her eyebrows furrowed together. “Sh.”

Stella frowned. “What?”

And then, in the distance, over the sound of the wind howling and thunder rumbling, came a girl’s voice yelling, “Please, somebody, help!”

All of their eyes widened, instantly on their feet as JJ grunted, “Oh, wait, no, I hear that.”

“Shit,” Pope cursed as they all stumbled out.

“What the fuck?” Stella muttered, gripping the skirt of her dress so it didn’t get tangled in her feet as she ran.

The voice, Stella realized, belonged to Sarah, and her heart started pounding as they ran towards the Hawk’s Nest, throat already drying in worry. The first thought in her head was that something went terribly wrong, that John B was hurt, and when they all cleared a group of trees towards the base of the Nest, Stella’s fear came true as a gasp ripped through her at the sight of John B lying on the ground, Sarah crying as she cradled his head and begged for him to wake up and open his eyes.

“Sarah! What happened?” Pope asked as they came running over, skidding to a stop, their breathing labored.

Sarah was crying, and Stella’s heart clenched at the sight of John B, unconscious, fear drenching her veins in ice as she instantly gripped Kie’s hand. “I don’t know what to do,” Sarah sobbed. “He needs help. Topper shoved him.”

Anger heated Stella’s skin, momentarily taking over the terror trembling her body as JJ demanded, “Where the hell is he?”

But Sarah just cried, “Oh, please, please, please get help. I don’t care who. Just call someone.”

Stella pushed Pope away as she panted, “Go! Call 911! Go!”

Pope took off and Kie shouted after him, “Pope, hurry!”

They all stood, breathing labored and hearts pounding, unsure of what to do as their friend lay unconscious. Worry weighed heavily on them all, to the point where Stella couldn’t even stop to question the way Sarah was holding John B to her, crying for him, kissing him and begging for him to wake up. No, nothing else mattered other than their injured friend, the tears stinging in Stella’s eyes as she prayed to anyone who was listening that he would wake up. Soon. Now. Please.

#outer banks #obx #jj #jj maybank #john b #sarah cameron #pope heyward #kiara carrera #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank blurbs #obx fic #obx fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #obx blurb #outer banks blurb #jj maybank x oc

[fafulous]

Take Me Home (2/5)

Andy Barber x Reader (Post!Defending Jacob)

Summary: After the unfortunate events of the trial and after, a depressed Andy Barber decides to call it quits and start a mundane life far away from Newton. He decides it is best to have a fresh start away from prying eyes and alone, but he never thought his caring neighbor (and her son) would change all of that.

Themes: MAJOR D.J. SPOILERS ((The series is following the BOOK ENDING and not Show)), Sad and soft Andy Barber, Single Mother Reader. Cursing.

a/n: I dedicate this chapter to my LOML @sinner-as-saint​. Happy Birthday Darling! ILY!

Part 1

Warnings: Small Hints of Abuse.

—

It was your full day shift at the library

You still couldn’t stop thinking about that horrid graffiti left out on Andrew’s Garage door. Why would anyone write something so horrific? It is never a common occurrence to accuse someone of being a murderer; Besides, you didn’t even truly know who the man was.

In one of your breaks while sipping on your hot cocoa, your curiosity got the best of you and googled about him. Those amateur press reporters wouldn’t crowd around a random vandalism; you knew something was up.

To your dismay, you came across terrifying articles of his family. Specifically, about his son.

You read about how Andrew Barber, the Local district attorney of the Newton County was found to be tangled in a murder case because of his son. You didn’t bother to read further for the headlines were awful; described how his 14-year-old son was in trial for the murder of his own classmate.

The details were too horrifying. The press reported every court proceeding but you didn’t proceed to read about what happened. Perhaps his son went to jail? Or he was declared not guilty but was separated from his family? You thought how a good handful of weeks passed and he had absolutely no visitors to his house. Best decision you made was to close the articles for it made you sick to the stomach.

Not only did it feel like you were invading on someone’s privacy, it was also not difficult to picture your son in Jacob Barber’s shoes.

You felt bad for the man, you really did. But then you recalled how he questioned your parenting. It takes years to build self-confidence, but just one statement to shatter it all.

It didn’t feel right reading about your neighbour, it felt like you were a stalker. And so, you resumed to stock up and label the new pile of books.

The Librarian desk was placed in such a way that you would immediately know if anyone entered the library. It would normally be teenagers and college go-ers labelled as nerds who would spend hours and hours of studying and reading. But this time, the one approaching your desk was the last person you ever wanted to see.

Nikolai’s father.

A week ago, Chad did make an appearance into your life out of the blue, asking you to take him back. But you couldn’t for you believed in two things: Your self-respect wasn’t weak, and that Nikolai didn’t deserve a pathetic excuse of a father. After you found out about his infidelity, you mentally decided not to take him back and that was a final decision.

You dropped whatever you were doing and made a beeline to Chad. “You can’t drop in during work like this.”

Quarter of an hour perhaps was spent on arguing back and forth in whispers. You will never deny that how it would be perfect for Nikolai to grow up with a father, but you kept reminding yourself not to give in to him.

“Listen Y/N. I really am sorry for barging like you on this. I want to make things right. “

“You can’t Chad,” you whispered, “I can’t. It is not fair to Nikolai and to me. Just go.”

Chad suddenly pushed you back to one of the bookshelves by gripping your shoulders. His shoulder touches were something that he used to do to offer you comfort at times of distress. But now this was causing you stress.

He gritted his teeth. “Why can’t you just fucking take me back?”

“Because I wasn’t the one who slipped into my co-worker’s vagina!”

Before you realised Chad was going to get unpleasant with you, another familiar voice interrupted the small run-in.

“Hey everything alright?”

You turned around to the stern voice only to see your neighbour, Andrew. You were fixated on him to the point where you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

He looked so handsome.

He was wearing a formal dark navy suit, his tie almost matching his hair colour. His hair and beard were neatly groomed with just a hint of messy. His beautiful trench coat accentuated his arm muscles. He did look like a textbook District Attorney.

Andy on the other hand exchanged looks between the both of you, glaring at the man who dare pushed you back against the bookshelf. He got near to them which made Chad leave his grip and take a few steps away from her.

Chad continued the conversation with you without acknowledging the intruder’s existence. “I’m going to leave now. Think about it. I’ll come in a few days to pick up Nikolai.” He soon left, making sure he didn’t make eye contact with the formal dude who seemed to be much taller to him.

Andy approached you cautiously while your hand pressed the wrinkles off of your shoulders. “Couldn’t help but hearing the whole co-worker slipping into your vagina statement. That man your ex?”

Dealing with two arrogant men simultaneously was not something you signed up today. “Be careful Mr. Barber, the attorney in you is showing.”

Andy stiffened his shoulders but did not let go of his grin. He liked a woman who was snappy, especially when he has seen the caring side of you. “So, you know about me?”

“I can take care of myself,” deflecting from his question. You didn’t want to admit about your slip up that you read about him from an online article. “You didn’t have to do that whole saviour stunt on me Mr. Barber,” you walked away from him, heading outside the library to catch a breath of fresh air. Andy followed you like a puppy would.

“You didn’t have to do it alone too, Miss”

You noticed how he didn’t call you formally. “Andrew, I told you I-I am never going to have a conversation with you ever.”

“I know I know.” He paused and you crossed your arms, waiting for him to say something while you admired the beauty of his trench coat on his frame.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I’m busy. M-my shift ends in an hour.”

“I can wait.”

“No Andrew, my car is in the repairs and I’m bailing on my assistant to drop me home-“

“I can drop you. We literally live next to each other. Please Y/N,” He neared you, anxiously looking over at you, “Give me this tiny speck of a chance.”

You stood there trying to pull off a stern look, trying so hard not to display you inhaling his musky cologne that made you excited. Who would’ve thought you would fall for a meanie who just had a pair of needy, blue eyes?

“Alright fine,” you said giving in. “Read a book or something inside.”

Andy was happy at his sweet victory.

In that time Andy decided to look through the well-ventilated library. It was quite spacious, his senses hitting with the smell of old books and natural pesticides to keep the books from deteriorating. There were enough tables for people to sit and read at their leisure. He even recognized familiar books he used to read with Laurie every night. It was an intimate ritual for them; so eventually for the past few months, he gave up on reading.

Andy then noticed you scuttling around for a while till you plopped on your desk. Your work attire was silk white blouse with a yellow pencil skirt. There was a strut of confidence every time you took a step or gave orders to her assistant. 

Neither of you would deny the lingering glances you gave each other in that time.  

An hour passed and both of you stood outside near his beautiful black car.

“What is it Andrew?”

“I wanted to sincerely apologize to you. This is not right I know. I know I’ve hurt your feelings and this apology doesn’t even cover it. I stepped out of line many times even though you remained to be kind to me.”

You puffed out a breath of air. Judging by the tone of his voice, you knew the man before you were being sincere.

“Just let me make it up to you one day at a time please. It would kill me if I didn’t do anything.”

“Y-you don’t have to anything Mr. Barber. Its just-“

“I know take your time. I hope we could hit the refresh button excluding the part where I make it up to you.”

“Yeah no um- I also owe you another thanks for helping back at the Library- uh Chad? The bloke you interrupted me with?”

Andy nodded. “It was nothing really. So, can we start fresh?” He extended his hand to you and a firm handshake was exchanged.

“Apology accepted I suppose.”

Soon you found yourself in Andy’s car, who was kind to even open the door for you. Chivalry isn’t dead. 

For now.

The ride back was quiet, you observing in the interiors of the sleek black car. The seat felt so comfortable, along with the man beside you. A comfortable silence prevailed the drive back home, Andy popping in superficial questions about your work and Nikolai and vice versa. 

“So any plans for tonight?”

“Nikolai wanted to watch a Disney movie tonight with some Chicken Lasagne. Oddly, specific I know but kids these days, right?”

“Yeah.” You noticed how his face fell slightly and so you tried to change the topic. “What about you?”

“The usual. Netflix and Takeout. Trying to cut on the beer though you know with the new job and all.”

“Thanks for the drive back home Mr. Barber.”

He took this as a good sign. “From now on you can call me Andy.”

“Listen Mr. Barber- Andy I have to get something off of my chest. “

Andy unbuckled his seat belt and faced you, unsure of what she wanted to say. “Sure please, go ahead.”

“Okay Andy. I just want to clear the air that only know about you as an attorney because my curiosity irked me after your whole garage shed incident. I didn’t dig much because I felt like the inner me was being like a creep.”

He raised his eyebrows heart slightly sinking that you had already become the judge of his character. “So, you do know about me then?”

“Not more than how your son was involved in a murder trial,” you fumbled. “I don’t know the outcome and I don’t know why I am telling you all of this oh my god.”

Andy chuckled to see you covering your face in embarrassment, feeling a little relieved to know that you didn’t have much of an idea of who he was. He reassured her that it was completely fine, and you saw you going back home.

The next couple of days went smoother for both you and Andy. After a week it seems you and Andy always left home for work at the same time, passing casual morning greetings…which you had to do by successfully covering your blush because he never failed to look nothing less than good looking even though he was now just a swimming instructor.

Andy told you that day he apologized to you at the library was the day when he gave in an interview for the Swimming Instructor position opened at the community gym. He said it was something he used to do in his free time, and he wanted to give it a shot

You weren’t even surprised to find your mind in the gutter when you thought about Andy in skin-fit Speedos that stuck to his thick thighs and broad back. Or would he just wear trunks? You smacked your head; this what happens when the last time you got laid was two years back…

No offense to your expensive vibrator.

Andy would drop you to work if you didn’t feel like it and pick you up too. He even would take Nikolai alone for car rides which he enjoyed.

“Mommy! Wandi car go zooooom!”

He once popped into the library telling you that he would like to be a member. You would have never thought that this man was a bookworm. He soon told you how he used to have a habit of reading a book every night and now that he wants to revive it.

Normally for new inquisitive children or young adults who wanted recommendations to begin the practice of reading was handled by your assistant, Tracy. You weren’t surprised when Tracy was almost proactive when she saw Andy. But to the utter dismay of your assistant, Andy wanted to hear it from you.

Its not like you won a battle with your assistant, but you happily concurred with you head held high. He wants me. (You smacked yourself mentally again, jealousy is an ugly stain).

“How do I know you’re not bluffing Andy?” you whispered.

“Hey hey,” he leaned nearer to your ears. “I’m new to this place and I want a couple of books and recommendations that’s all. It can get lonely at home sometimes.”

As Andy and you spoke over books, you saw he had no shred of the hostility he had in these past few weeks. Andy also noticed how you looked much more comfortable than you were initially. For the both of you a new friendship was blooming.

For now.

“What kind of books are you into Mr. Barber?”

“Well I was the thriller and mystery kind, but things have changed, looking for a change rather. Nothing old sticks on to me now.”

“Ah yes. Every reader has that phase and I have just the solution.”

He was almost puzzled when you took him to the young adults section and handed over two books or rather two parts of a beautiful story.

“Harry Potter? Isn’t that a children’s book?”

“Objection your honour!” You went on to tell him the premise of the books without spoiling much for him. It suddenly struck him that Jacob had these books at home too. But he was able to push the twinge away when he hears your sweet whispers of excitement. He did complain he has watched the movies but the bookworm in him knew that books are always better than the movies.

“Okay okay! Objection is sustained.” He laughs. A genuine laughter after what seemed like eons.

You didn’t want the conversation to end. It felt refreshing to talk to Andy and so you felt generous.

“You can drop the usual food takeout today yeah? When was the last time you had home cooked meal?

Andy thought for a while. “An awfully long time Y/N. It’s okay-“

“Dinner is at my house. No excuses.”

Andy found a little purpose to be excited in life.

–

On Mondays, Andy comes home with a bottle of wine to beat the heat of a horrid Monday morning.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Andy flaunts his cooking skills to you and Nikolai. Surprisingly, he has not lost his touch over cooking. He loved it how the little boy gets the food names all jumbled up and how, much to your embarrassment, he would ask him for food requests. Can we have Pawsta and bwed? Or Can we have spwagety?

Wednesdays and Fridays, Andy chilled out on your sofa having a tea party or fighting an alien invasion with Nikolai while you effortlessly cooked to your delight.

It’s almost become a ritual over as the weeks go by. Andy and you talk a lot, but never about each other. Both of you talk about books, or debate over politics or even talk about movies.

It was in these nights when both of you unintentionally spills the beans of your past.

First was Andy when was discussing about how he loved the Harry Potter books you suggested that the waterfall of backstories began. After dinner got over both of you sat on your couch talking about the day’s work, while Nikolai fiddled with toys on the cushioned chair. He mentioned how Jacob had these books.

“Who is Jacob?”

Andy looked ahead at Nikolai sitting at one of the comfort chairs with a couple of his figurines while his eyes fought with slumber, “My son.”

“Oh, how is he? Is he with his mother now?”

Maybe it was too soon to ask. You literally saw with your own eyes how Andy’s eyes drooped, and his figure slumped before you. It even became confusing when he shook his head slightly sideways.

Realising you may have overstepped a line, you tried to steer the conversation to another direction, but Andy blurted it out as if he needed to remind himself the truth.

“Jacob died in a car accident and his mother is in prison for the very same.”

Whispering a oh my god underneath your breath while covering your mouth didn’t stop your eyes from pricking with tears.

Andy narrated the events of the trial briefly while he grabbed the bottle of wine drinking from it directly, not getting in too detail. He mentioned how his son was dropped of all the charges and how after one vacation, everything changed. He mentioned how his now ex-wife successfully attempted to kill Jacob in a car crash because she was convinced that her son was the actual murderer.  

Andy was numb to this story (the kinder version where you didn’t know he was the son of the murderer Billy Barber) and he didn’t realise the kind of reaction it would evoke from someone who had no idea about his past. Guess he was surrounded with nosy people all his life until now.

He internally panicked to you see your tearful state.

“Andy I’m so sorry.”

In an instinct you pulled Andy to you, arms wrapped around his shoulders in a hug. Andy needed a hug so bad he may have wrapped his arms around you an inch closer while he rubbed your back in assurance. He heard your small sniffles, which made him hug you tighter.

His hoarse reassuring whispers that he was alright made you even more devastated. “Hey look Y/N. I am alright okay?”

You pulled away from his embrace in embarrassment. Andy’s heart was hard as a rock, he gave you a half-hearted smile, “God I’m such a fool sometimes. Quick to come to conclusions. I shouldn’t have been so judgmental.”

“If you’re forgetting that was me a couple of weeks back.” His gently touched your cheeks wiping a tear or two away. “Hey come on now. Tears don’t suit you momma bear.”

“So, I’m a bear now huh?”

A little giggle came out of your lips and Andy felt warm. Your mind was fluttering as Andy still stroked your cheek with his thumb. You never realised could be so soothing until a worried Nikolai tried to scramble up on both of your laps.

“Mommy why you cwying?”

“Nothing peaches. Its just-“

“I ate your mommy’s cookies Nikolai,” Andy interrupted earning a dramatic gasp from the little boy while you stifled your laughter.

“Its okay Wandi. Mommy you can take the cookies fwom my jahr. Don’t cwy mommy”

After a series of awws from the two adults, Nikolai went back to his toys. It was time for Andy to leave, standing on the threshold of your house.

“This fresh start is not happening for me at all Y/N. You have been such a wonderful person entertaining me these nights but, I still can’t sleep you know. It’s haunting.”

“Andy,” you still sniffed. “The minute the garage incident was over, that was the minute you stepped away from prying eyes. No one is going to bother you now Andy. You can start fres, infact I think you already did. You bagged a Swimming Instructor shift at the local gym, you have got a new house and most importantly, or not, is that you have Nikolai and Me.

“We all have skeletons in our closet Andy, that’s the unfortunate truth. Its not going to be easy but life has to go on because little do you know you have people depending on you.”

Andy knew you were referring to Nikolai, but for him he had no one depending on him. What was the point of moving on?

“Good night Y/N”

He only left the threshold after he realised you had placed a kiss on his cheek and gave him a hug on your tiptoes.

Another night, it was your turn.

Andy soon realised Nikolai wasn’t anywhere around the house. The toys were neatly placed, and the Television wasn’t running. Music was playing from your phone, but it was low and from the smell of it, you were cooking Chicken Lasagne, Nikolai’s favourite dish.

“Where is Niko? Is he sleeping?”

“He is with his father and the grandparents.”

The dinner went awfully quiet, sure he tried to sneak conversations here and there, but he wasn’t able to hold it. He learned how you decided to actually listen to Chad’s wishes under the conditions that his grandparents would be around. Andy saw your little smile when he learned that Nikolai was extremely reluctant to go with his father. A rational side of you didn’t want to separate Nikolai from his father.

It was while you were flipping through the channels that you broke out like a dam.

“You know Andy, what you heard that day in the library was the truth you know.”

“Niko’s father Chad?”

“It was Nikolai’s first birthday. We were all gathered at home for a small birthday party. Chad and I called in our co-workers that day. In the name of this little one everyone began drinking by around four when we scheduled the party at six.”

Andy noticed how you sardonically laughed in between.

“Before we could cut the cake, I went in search of Chad because Niko wouldn’t cut the cake without him. So, I went around searching for him because I remember Chad was kind of drunk. And then I find him in our room fucking his co-worker while he screamed her name.”

You looked below and began fidgeting with your fingernails. “The next half an hour went in a haze. The guests left. Chad and I went hysteric. We were at each other’s throat. I screamed at him and Chad somehow became sober and began to um- hit me uhm-“

You were breaking and Andy didn’t want to ask you to stop narrating. You must have trusted him enough to talk about something that you evidently found traumatic. Andy scooted closer and took your palms in his hands.

“And I didn’t even realise how I was scarring Niko. He was sitting on the couch all alone scared at our hysterics. In that half hour I- I- forgot about him. The guests were gone, and he didn’t cry. Niko just sat there with his beady eyes clutching his figurines, looking at me in horror after that bastard went up to his room like nothing mattered. I’m the reason for Nikolai’s state.”

“Hey what state Y/N?” Andy stroked your cheek; the lines of formality were blurred between you two. Right now, it was just one soul comforting another in a time of agony. “Nikolai is such perfect child. I have never seen such a brilliant three-year-old in my life.”

You whimpered, “N-Niko hates birthdays. The sight of candles on a cake make him cry and disturbed. H-his nursery is left incomplete because he has these terrible nightmares when he is left alone. He comes crying in horror even if I try to let him sleep alone for once. He always sleeps with me. W-what if I damaged him Andy? Wh-what if he likes his father more in this visit? What if he leaves me?”

You sobbed uncontrollably into Andy’s chest. He didn’t hesitate in cradling you and stroking your hair. He pulled you closer, leaning back at the couch. He waited for your crying to die down.

“You’re such an amazing mother darling,” he whispered, the loving nickname going unnoticed because it seemed so right, “So caring, so kind. Nikolai loves you, you know that right?”

He felt you nodding your head at his chest while none of you bothered to acknowledge how both of your legs were intertwined now. Andy scooted lower on the sofa, lying down with you still cradled to him.

“Chad was a fucking scoundrel okay? Anybody would have reacted like that like you did.” Andy gritted his teeth when he recalled that he hit you but suppressed his emotions because his emotions wasn’t important now. “Nikolai is going to be simply fine. When he comes back, he’s going to run into your arms and say how much he missed you and then proceed to ransack the living room with his toys.”

That genuinely made you laugh. You didn’t want to let go of Andy. His cologne was calming. His sweater shirt was soft. You even felt his little belly; he did mention he was drinking a lot of beer and whiskey when he can’t sleep in the night. It felt so intimate; it felt so right in spite the fact the neither of you are dating.

“You’re a good man Andy.”

Andy places a chaste kiss on your forehead. He saw your cheeks scrunch up, like you were blushing. His lips felt soft on your forehead, a warmth running through the both of you. Andy decided to leave but your grip on his meant something else. Looking down, he felt your soft breaths on his neck now for you tucked your head on his neck. You must be clingy he wondered, but he didn’t mind. He needed a dose of clingy looking at his current state of life.

“Good Night Y/N.”

He was supposed to get up slowly and untangle from your limbs and spread a blanket on you before he left. He was supposed to go back inside his house and have another round of sleepless nights.

Not cuddle and have a good night’s sleep peacefully with you in your soft sofa?

–

Finally, Saturdays and Sundays are the lazy days, ironically both of you don’t hang out as much on the weekends for deep inside Andy thought he was invading Nikolai and yours family time.

When Nikolai was back the next day, just like Andy had mentioned, he ran into your arms and kissed you so much. He even hugged you harder and said he didn’t want to go back to his father.

“He’s not like Wandi. Wandi likes tea pawties. Papa says tea pawties is for guhls and not for boys.”

“Peaches that’s not true, you can play tea party any time you want. You can play with me and Andy okay?”

“Yeah okay. Can we play tea pawty inside Wandi’s cahr too?”

“Niko!”

Your little boy also managed to change your mother-son ritual into a mother-son-neighbour ritual. He persisted you into calling Andy for the everyday evening picnic at the lawn. You knew your son loved Andy but a little voice asked if this was too much.

Apparently it wasn’t. Andy was extremely happy to join you and Nikolai. He kept asking if it was okay but a few reassurances later Andy joined you with a jar of  lemonade. “I may have peaked out of the window and seen your daily picnics. None of them have this baby.” (Of course he was talking about his lemonade).

“Mommi look, Wandi made lemonade! Yaaaay!”

He runs over and hugs Andy as tight as his little hands can. 

“I bake this boy five types of cookies and he falls for your lemonade? Blasphemy Andy. What are you doing to my son?” you ask him with feigned wound in your heart.

“Oh Y/N. He’s just found a new friend. Don’t be jealous now.”

Seeing your son and Andy bond made you heart make a little small wish; that Niko and you find a companion like Andy. Wishing for Andy himself is like wishing for a star. Why would this perfect man fall for a broken person like you?

Andy and you spoke while the little boy ran around the lawn with his toys and it was then his senses came alive and he took in his surroundings.

A pink stained sky; clouds imitating to be cotton candy. A beautiful house in a quaint neighbourhood. The faint smell of your warm cookies and refreshing lemonade while your son ran around. A woman of his dreams weaving her palm through the strands of her hair. This was a dreamland.

And in that moment, he scooted near you and he entwined his hands into yours. You were perplexed at what he was doing but you went with the flow. He wanted his utopia.

“Andy? What are you-“

“Y/N, will you go on a date with me?”

After a few minutes later, your answer gave all the reassurance that he finally got his fresh start; that he can finally start a new life without the demons in the closet.

Right?

–

Part 3

–

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#Andy Barber #Defending Jacob #Andy Barber x reader #Andy Barber Imagines #Chris Evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans imagine #defending jacob spoilers #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #andy barber angst #chris evans x you #andy barber imagine #defending jacob finale #andrew barber #jacob barber

[curiosity-killed]

Hi....If you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite MXTX characters (top 5 from each novel)? And why? I'm sorry if you've answered this question before.

Aw of course I don’t mind! Though I feel like my answer is going to be a disaster bc I love these casts so so much aha let’s see:

✨ SPOILERS AHEAD ✨

MDZS/CQL

1. Wei Wuxian

Ah so I feel like this is obvious based on the sheer quantity of things I produce and the effort I put into hurting him 😅 but yeah! I love how much of a classical tragic hero he is and I love how much love he has and how that gets twisted around and shaped into a collar of spikes around his own neck. I saw gif sets of wwx before I ever knew about CQL and my reaction was “fuck. I’m going to love him” and I do! And I love that he does learn from his past and I love most of all that he learns to accept the love he is given and is able to make a happy ending in a place of being loved and held in respect and appreciation

2. Wen Qing

On the other hand, I did not expect to be like “mine now” with Wen Qing. Don’t get me wrong, the sexy immortal look got me but it wasn’t really till I started writing fic that I was like ohhhhh Oh Boy. Wen Qing is brilliant and ruthless, fiercely loving and aloof and cold. I love that she gets the lose-lose challenge of balancing what is right for her family vs what is right in the world, what she owes to her sect and what she owes to individuals. The golden core transfer is my favorite dubious science experiment in p much all media I’ve consumed. She gets to be so human—prickly and tough and also achingly gentle and afraid and putting on a tough face and sometimes still crying. “I’m sorry and thank you” ! Im!!

3. Jiang Yanli

The first fic I wrote for this fandom was literally “Jiang Yanli died no she didn’t” lmao I do feel like I underserve Jiang Yanli in that I often fall prey to using her to further the complexity that the male characters are permitted while denying her the chance to be given the same space for development and breath — something to work on! But in that, I really genuinely love how tightly she binds herself to her family and how she tries so hard to be what others need her to be—and then she does make a choice for herself and for a single moment at least, she gets to be loved and to be happy and to have this, a husband and a son and a place, for herself. And terribly I love how much she permeates the story still after death. She is the unspoken voice, the face turned from the camera but always still present, carried in the hearts and names and memories of the ones left behind

She deserved better but—I am weak for the tragedy of it all

4. Jiang Cheng

Another surprise (tho hardly surprising in hindsight): Jiang Cheng is just...horribly understandable. He makes terrible choices and his greatest heroism is undone by a choice made for him or, in the case of “killing the Yiling Laozu” is a lie. He is such a youngest sibling who doesn’t want to be the youngest until all at once, he’s the one in charge and he doesn’t want it at all. He is full of anger and hurt and so much love he doesn’t know what to do with it, doesn’t want it anymore, has no place to put all of its terrible, overwhelming flood.

5. Lan Wangji

I almost didn’t put Lan Wangji or Jiang Cheng on here and then I realized that this is sort of a list of characters I’m pickiest about in fic and...yeah. I think what I love best about Lan Wangji is his journey of grief and healing and through that, his decision to step into world. Where Wei Wuxian’s decision to travel and be removed from the cultivation world (in varying degrees depending on your headcanon preference lol) is really, really important to me, Lan Wangji’s decision to go from being an isolated lone agent working apart from the systems of the world to being involved and invested in changing those systems and working to make them better is also really important to me. I’ve talked before about how relatable Lan Wangji is to me (esp with regards to our interaction with the outer world) and there is something deeply hopeful and comforting about post-timeskip Lan Wangji being in his like mid-/late-30s and still making decisions and growing and changing and choosing to invest himself in the world and the future

yeah. i have thoughts here that I don’t really have the maturity, life experience, or articulation to put into words but Lan Zhan Good basically

TGCF

1. Xie Lian

suuuurpriiiiise!! Yeah honestly mxtx’s mains in TGCF and MDZS really just hit all my buttons basically. What appeals to me most of all about Xie Lian is, fittingly, how he is humanity taken to extremes. His capacity for incredible kindness and compassion is equaled with his capacity for cruelness and ruthlessness. His heaven-shaking highs are matched with calamitous lows. He is the hyperbolic of what it is to be human—and he is also the small moments, the wildflowers and the maple leaves and the mundane chores and the comfort of whispered conversations late into the night. I could quite literally go on for pages about what I love about Xie Lian but I am not Hua Cheng and can restrain myself LMAO

2. Hua Cheng

of all the characters on these lists, Hua Cheng is the one I’m pickiest about tbh! When I say I love him for similar reasons as Xie Lian I don’t actually mean this as being similarities between the two but the fact that both of them so richly convey mxtx’s points about the nature of humanity and what it is to be human. Hua Cheng is both the boldest and most arrogant of all and also the most vulnerable, the one who shies away from the truth because he’s braced for it to hurt and isn’t sure he can take it. He is gory blood rain and an umbrella to shelter a fragile bloom; he is a blade whose wounds only heal if he permits it and he is a sacrifice that he brushes aside as a fit of madness. *pats his head* this boy can fit SO MUCH inside him that he refuses to acknowledge

3. Jun Wu

Definitely my favorite antagonist in recent reading. I was doubtful of him from the start (something something issues with authority something something probably should talk to my theoretical future therapist shhh) but the unfolding of his reveal was so delightfully painful and exquisite that I was like “YES!!!” reading all of it. About the epitome of a satisfying plot twist imo. But about the character himself, I love how he parallels so many — Xie Lian in his rise and fall, his glory and disgrace; Hua Cheng in his fixation and ruthlessness; He Xuan in losing himself to the plot and not knowing how to move forward. I love that he feels beyond human in a way the others don’t—he’s so old and has gone through so much and he doesn’t feel things the way humans do anymore, doesn’t remember right how love squeezes the heart or how hate can exist without acting on it. I love that he thinks he knows how to control everyone and that it’s such mundane things that fool him: Xie Lian’s absurd stubbornness, Hua Cheng’s foolish faith, Yin Yu’s...emotional maturity??? Not Sure how to verbalize that one. But in the end, he is defeated by both the humanity of others and by his own—he’s so tired. He’s exhausted in a way that gods and ghosts aren’t meant to be. He is, under the armor and the masks, the curses and the power, human—benevolent and cruel, evil and good.

4. He Xuan

I love my fish man! No but really I love how He Xuan is so fixed on his one goal that he refuses to acknowledge anything else in his (after)life—which doesn’t make it go away. I love that he is left unmoored, purposeless through the very act of completing that which gives him purpose. I love his long con and the ways he clings to himself but loses himself not in the act but in the telling himself it’s an act. I love that he tries to be a moral man and then becomes a ghost king, a calamity. His reveal is also terribly badass and I do love his bone fish wholly unironically. Like I’m not going to get a He Xuan tattoo (for one thing I’ve been meaning to get a tattoo for 5 years and still haven’t gotten around to it) but also. B o n e f i s h

5. Mu Qing

Of course! The Jiang Cheng of tgcf lol Mu Qing (which my phone desperately wants to autocorrect to my Qing) is so...gah he’s such a mess! And he so fully commits to the belief that no one will ever see and understand him as he is but will always view them through their own convictions about him and his actions — which is simultaneously heartbreakingly lonely and also. Sir You Are a Clown. I genuinely think he’s owed apologies from both Feng Xin and Xie Lian for their treatment and assumptions of him and think that he would be HORRIBLY offended at the thought (while secretly touched? But like secretly even to himself). He will never explain himself and will just clam up tighter the more people accuse him and it’s such a self-sabotaging behavior and also so horribly relatable. I love u sir, you’re a disaster

SVSS I have not read but I do really like the moshang art 😂

#long post #asked & answered #lol sorry this is so long and incoherent #the truth is that I really love these stories and their casts #and I think it’s v hard to extricate the characters from the cast #because they are so deftly and beautifully interwoven #but here are the characters I think are my favorites lol #loosely in order #tgcf spoilers #also this is why I prefer tgcf to mdzs tbh? #jgy is intellectually interesting to me and a good antagonist #but not personally compelling in the way jw is

[minimitchell]

callumhighwayweek day 7 - free choice (ao3 link)

this is dedicated to @calsangel for being just an overall angel and always brainstorming my daft plot ideas with me.💕

.

Callum knows, as soon as he regains consciousness, that this is going to be a horrible day.

There’s a pounding in his head like someone is manning a jack-hammer inside of his cranium and even just the daylight shining behind his closed eyelids feels aggravating to his over-sensitive head. His stomach is rolling and turning on itself as well; that sinking feeling of a grand old hangover settling deep in it’s pit.

He knew he shouldn’t have drunk so much yesterday.

Yeah, it may be in the nature of a stag do to get more than reasonably drunk but he’s always been a lightweight and judging by how he’s feeling today, it was definitely too much alcohol. The cocktails were a bad idea to start with - the bartender was definitely too generous with the ratio of alcohol to mixer - and the different types of shots were probably the deathblow to his sobriety.

And his memory apparently. Because all he remembers is them having a shitload of drinks at a bar somewhere on the Strip and then-

Nothing.

They’re in Las Vegas for Jay’s stag do. It’s definitely extravagant, flying halfway across the world for a weekend to see him off before his wedding but it was a lifelong dream of Jay’s and as his best man, Ben was determined to make it come true. So their whole friend group saved every penny they could and made their way to the US for a long weekend.

It was definitely worth it just for Jay’s face when they turned up at his and Lola’s flat Friday morning to pick him up for the airport and the groom kept telling them how grateful he was for them and for this in-between shots yesterday.

It’s also nice to see Ben so satisfied and relaxed after basically driving himself crazy with planning and organizing everything the last couple of weeks, if not months. They spent many evenings pouring over their respective laptops, comparing hotel prices and making reservations for bars from an entire ocean away.

They’ve been friends ever since Callum moved to Walford a couple of years ago. At first, it was just because Callum worked with Jay, back when he had first come here before he started working as a youth counsellor, and Ben and Jay were practically attached at the hip. Since then though, he has also developed quite the relationship with Ben, Jay’s brother in everything but blood.

They found out they have a lot in common, not least the fact they’re both gay, and he’s been welcomed into their friend group and family with open arms. Now it’s him and Ben that are always together, one barely being seen without the other, spending most of their free time with each other.

Another thing that has developed since him and Ben became pretty much best friends are his feelings - for Ben of all people. Callum’s always been intrigued by him, right from the get go; by his easy, almost cocky, smirk and his self-assured attitude. Once you get to know Ben and he lets you see beyond the tough exterior, he’s also sweet and supportive, always happy to let Callum talk about a difficult case at work and cheer him up afterwards.

It also doesn’t hurt that he’s very handsome.

He doesn’t want to ruin their friendship though, or lose the family he’s gained through Ben and Jay, so he has settled for being the best mate. For feigning to be supportive when Ben goes off with different guys all the time and trying not to blurt out how he feels about him at every given opportunity.

Another wave of nausea hits Callum out of nowhere and he groans and presses his face deeper into the pillow underneath him. There’s no way he’s going to make it out of the hotel room, out of this bed, anytime soon, maybe not at all today. Even the mere thought of meeting the other guys for dinner later today is enough to make his stomach turn.

It’s a testament to how absolutely shattered he is right now that he only notices the arm draped over his back when he goes to turn around. It makes him pause, fingers tightening against the sheets underneath his pillow. Him and Ben are sharing a room this weekend but they have separate beds, so there would be no reason for them to be sleeping in the same one.

And he can’t see himself pulling anyone last night, not only because it’s a shitty thing to do when you’re on a stag do and sharing a room with someone but also because he’s always too damn busy mooning over Ben to pay any other man any of his attention.

It doesn’t bring him any closer to figuring out who’s lying next to him in bed.

He cracks his eyes open carefully, only a sliver, letting them adjust to the bright morning light flooding the room, trying to avoid the pounding in his head getting even worse. He’s relieved to notice he’s in his own hotel room and wasn’t stupid enough to go back with some stranger when he was out of his mind drunk.

The curtains are open, the view outside the window still just as stunning as it was when they first checked in. They’re in a hotel almost directly on the Strip, located on a little side street with nearly a direct view of the Bellagio hotel and fountain. It’s a sight he never thought he’d see in person and normally he’d be thankful and appreciative but right now his headache isn’t letting him.

His gaze wanders over the clothes scattered on the floor beside the bed and up over his bedside table. It looks a lot messier than how he left it yesterday afternoon before they went bar and casino hopping; his phone curiously enough surrounded by two glass flutes and a bottle of champagne of all things.

What catches his eyes though is a rectangular piece of paper propped up against the foot of the lamp there; squiggly, bold letters at the top and a seal next to two signatures at the bottom. It’s embarrassing how long the two words at the top take to register in Callum’s brain - he isn’t sure whether that’s down to the hangover or to the sheer surrealism of them.

But they’re there; black ink on white parchment, signed with his own name.

Marriage certificate.

Oh no. This is not happening to him. He isn’t going to be this cliché. This sort of thing only happens in crappy movies. It must be a joke. Maybe he misread.

None of the excuses and explanations seem to work because when he closes and opens his eyes again the paper is still there, motionless and offending. He pulls his left hand out from under his pillow and yeah, there it is - a golden band sitting on his ring finger. At least it’s simple and not tacky; small victories he reckons.

God, one night in Vegas and he got married to someone. Some stranger probably, dressed in an Elvis suit with his luck.

How is he going to explain this to the rest of the guys; he’s going to be the laughing stock forever. Even worse, how is he going to explain this to Ben? What is he going to think of Callum now? They’ve talked so often about Callum wanting the whole thing - a nice house, white-picket fence, a husband and a dog. This wasn’t the plan; this isn’t him.

Most of all, he’s perplexed that he actually convinced someone to marry him what with all the whining he usually does when he’s drunk over his unreciprocated feelings for Ben. And if it was the other way around, he’s amazed someone other than Ben managed to convince him to get married on the fly.

This whole thing is such a mess already, he doesn’t even want to see who he’s married to anymore.

It’s inevitable though. And maybe the sooner he gets this over with, the sooner he can forget about the whole thing again.

So he turns around as careful as he can - his head is thanking him for the slow and measured movements - the stranger’s arm falling from his back and landing on the minimal space between their bodies, trying not to wake the man sleeping next to him.

When he takes in the face on the pillow next to him, his eyes widen dramatically, even against the protest from his head at the bright light suddenly hitting him full force, and he feels his heart lurch in his chest. Or maybe that’s his stomach.

Because it’s none other than Ben lying shirtless next to him and one quick look at the hand that’s lying on the duvet rather than his back now confirms his worst fears - he’s sporting a matching golden ring on his finger.

Fuck.

He only went and married his best mate in a drunken stupor.

Even worse, he married the guy he’s been secretly in love with for ages now, who probably only said yes because he thought it would be a laugh.

He isn’t sure whether it’s that thought or the hangover rearing its ugly head, but whichever it is, it makes him rush off to the bathroom, not sparing any thought to how loud or sudden his departure from the bed is.

When he returns to the room after brushing his teeth and freshening up a bit, Ben is awake, probably woken up by the shaking of the mattress when he bolted from the bed. He’s propped up against the pillows, white sheets tangled around his body, playing with the ring on his finger. He looks deep in thought, but not disgusted as Callum had feared he would after realizing he got married to Callum of all people.

Their eyes meet almost immediately and Callum is all of a sudden way too aware he’s wearing next to nothing, Ben’s gaze raking over his naked chest. The feeling of being this exposed right now in front of Ben makes him itch, so he goes over to his suitcase to at least put on a shirt.

The silence between them is deafening and uncomfortable; it’s like they’re both waiting for the other to bring up the elephant in the room. Callum doesn’t really know how though.

Where does he even start?

“Alright?”

Ben’s voice is small and hesitant, a little scratchy from all the alcohol he drank yesterday. Callum’s last memory of Ben is him tipping back another Tequila before getting handsy with Jay on the dance floor. He remembers Ben drinking almost as much as him, but he’s simultaneously dreading Ben still remembering more than he does about last night; about their wedding.

“Yeah. Head’s a bit sore, you know.”

It’s painful, this weird small talk they’re doing to avoid talking about what they somehow decided to do last night, but Callum isn’t brave enough to bring it up. He knows without a doubt that he’ll spill all his closely-kept feelings if he even starts thinking about the possibility, the wish, to maybe stay married brewing in his chest.

But he knows it’s a moot point. He might be up for being married to Ben but there’s no way Ben won’t want to get an annulment, right. He never gave any indication that he might have feelings for Callum as well so why should he be married to him.

“So, uh, looks like we got married, eh.”

Callum doesn’t understand why he sounds so calm about this; so nonchalant about the fact they did something so stupid. Maybe the best way to deal with this is to quietly get an annulment, forget about the whole thing and never tell a soul about it.

It might be the only way to salvage their friendship.

“I’m so sorry. It must have been my idea and I dragged you into it. We can just get an annulment and forget the whole thing, yeah?”

Ben scooches closer to him, crawling over to the edge of the bed when Callum sinks back against the desk in front of it. He’s kneeling now and with the sheets pooling under him Callum can see he’s only in his boxers as well. He’ll kick himself forever about not remembering how his skin felt against his own when they were pressed against each other sleeping.

“Hey. Whoever suggested we do this, whether that was you or me, the other person clearly said yes so really we’re in this together now, okay?”

Callum doesn’t know why in the world Ben should’ve been the one to say they should get married but he appreciates him trying to share the blame with Callum anyway. He can’t help but notice Ben is still not looking too worried or angry about the situation. It throws him off because shouldn’t he be at least slightly inconvenienced by this? He never gave the impression that he wanted to get married, least of all to someone he doesn’t have feelings for.

Who would, to be fair.

He has feelings for Ben and even he is freaking out about it all.

Ben is looking down at the sheet underneath him, fingers coming up to play with the ring on his left hand again. Callum is transfixed by the action; the way the sunlight hits the golden metal and reflects off of it, how it looks so natural against Ben’s skin when he twists it back and forth.

It looks good on him; so good. The revelation sends pinpricks of longing to his heart.

“Do you mean it? About getting an annulment.”

Ben doesn’t meet his eyes, otherwise he would see the surprise evident on his face. Because judging from his tone of voice Ben’s not a hundred per cent sold on getting an annulment himself. Although he can’t fathom why.

“What, you don’t?”

When Ben finally looks back up at him his bottom lip is bitten into his mouth, the skin red and worried. His eyes are hesitant but hopeful and maybe, just maybe, Callum has missed a few things in the past few years. Maybe this is not as unrequited as he had always assumed.

“Would it be bad if I didn’t?”

There’s heat spreading through him now; butterflies filling his stomach and making him feel featherlight. He’s trying not to get ahead of himself but it’s hard when the guy you’ve always been in love with implies he’s interested in staying married to you; that he may have feelings for you as well. It’s everything he dreamt about before.

It almost feels too good to be true.

“I, I don’t know.”

He doesn’t want to let himself hope only to be crushed when it turns out that Ben is purely thinking practically, without any feelings being involved from his side. His heart starts beating faster just imagining the opposite though, running away from him and thinking about their possible future together.

The quiet evenings on the couch together, sipping their coffees next to each other in the mornings, slow dancing together at Jay and Lola’s wedding. He wants it all with Ben. He wants a future with him. As his husband if that’s what he wants as well.

“Have you never thought about it? How good we could be together if given a chance? Maybe this is our chance. I- I like you, Cal. So much, always have.”

Callum can’t keep the smile off his face, pushing away from the desk he’s leaning against and crouching down before Ben on the bed. He lets his eyes travel over Ben’s face, taking in the shiny blue eyes he always got lost in and the freckles dotted around his nose. He’s so beautiful, proper heart-stopping gorgeous, and he’s Callum’s husband for some miraculous, mad reason.

“I’m so completely in love with you, Ben. If you’re sure about this then yeah, let’s stay married I guess.”

One of his hands finds the skin of Ben’s cheek, thumb brushing against his ear. Ben leans into it, eyes full of something Callum likes to think is love shining back at him. Looking at him now he can’t believe he’s never realized it before. Ben must have looked at him like this a thousand times before and it has never clicked for him. Until now that is. Now, it’s all he can see. All he can think about.

When he isn’t thinking about covering his lips with his own anyway.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They must lean in at the same time, meeting in the middle between their bodies to seal their lips together in a sweet kiss. Any pounding still remaining in his head is long gone, replaced by a nothingness created by their mouths meeting again and again. Kissing Ben is simultaneously exactly how he imagined, hoped, it would be and so much more; it’s so much better than he thought it could be.

Ben runs his tongue over Callum’s bottom lip, begging to be let in in a way that makes Callum powerless to even think about refusing him and earning the sweetest sounding, breathless laugh in return from Ben when he opens up for him.

They kiss until they’re both panting for air; until their hands are wandering over each other’s skin in a desperate attempt to feel more of one another and the smiles get in the way of the kisses. Callum feels weightless when Ben is smiling at him like this, ready to take on the entire world.

One of Ben’s fingers traces over Callum’s bottom lip and down his neck, along the dip of his collarbone, before hooking in the collar of his shirt.

“How do you feel about consummating our marriage, husband?”

Hearing the last word fall from Ben’s lips sends a shockwave of electricity through his body; one he can feel right down to his toes and the tips of his fingers, setting him alight from top to bottom.

What they’re doing is completely mad, that they’re choosing to stay married right now is absolutely crazy, but if they can talk about it and make it work, then this could easily be the best thing that ever happened to them; he’s sure of it.

“Go ahead.”

The smile on Ben’s face is blinding when he wraps his arms around Callum’s neck and pulls him backwards onto the bed with him, mouths finding each other again on their way onto the soft sheets.

They’ll need to tell the others later, face Jay’s bewilderment for somehow getting married on his stag do, call their families maybe. For now though, Callum wants to focus on the here and now, on his husband under him, on them.

Anything else can wait.

He’s going to let himself enjoy being a newlywed for a while.

#chweek2021 #callumhighwayweek2021 #ballum fic #my writing #alexa play waking up in vegas by katy perry

[twilightofthe]

What was your opinion of the Clovis arc? People I know either love it or hate it, no in between. I generally liked it but found it waayyy ooc.

Hey anon, thanks for the ask!!!!

AHSJFLSLALK OK SO UH. Wow. Clovis arc. Yiiiiiiikes ok so. I totally agree with you on the fandom divide and I also totally agree that everyone involved in it is rather OOC for my taste. That being said, that case of OOC is exactly why I personally do not like the arc that much at all.

(Please note that my following words are MY PERSONAL OPINIONS, and that anyone is free to disagree, in fact I welcome the discussion, and even if this is your favorite arc, please consider yourself welcome on my blog I hold nothing against those who might like it)

Part of me was gonna make a short and sweet point about how I don’t like that TCW has had both of its main female characters have unwanted kisses forced on them, and instead of teaching young girls watching to tell those kinds of people to fuck off and respect their bodies, we get: 1. Just let it happen, you both must kinda like each other anyway or 2. Stay still then sit back while your boyfriend beats him half to death

But actually turns out I wanted to spend all day writing an essay so now you get this. So far I’m gonna hit four points:

the show’s constant need for Vader foreshadowing sometimes tending to completely override Anakin’s current mindset and personality he should have at this point in the timeline as well as his preestablished characterization

the way TCW gave Anakin a giant dosage of toxic masculinity to try and please the pissy movie critics who didn’t like that he cried

the role of Padmé and how TCW tries to portray her as a “strong woman” by just having her constantly be irritated by and sometimes even look like she actively dislikes her husband while simultaneously have her act OOC so they can blame HER and her actions for Anakin’s reactions and anger and overall Fall

How I think this arc is not irredeemable and that with some fixes it could be done decently— decently, not well, because a lot of this arc’s problems are also due to preexisting writing choices throughout the show

(Ok whoops this turned into a half Clovis arc rant half entire TCW Anidala commentary)

So firstly I wanna start that yes, I am fully aware that TCW is meant to fill in the gaps between AOTC and ROTS and help explain why Anakin’s mindset in the final movie is what it is and justify his Fall. Of course we need to show some Vader foreshadowing throughout the series, and in some places it is executed very well, notably the Mortis arc, the Bad Batch arc, the Wrong Jedi arc, as well as others that I can’t cite off the top of my head currently because I might have a mild touch of heat exhaustion wooo I need to get off the beach.

But it also has some rather hamfisted Vader foreshadowing stuff too. Like, y’all know the fandom joke where it’s like “Anakin: *Accidentally Leaves The Toilet Seat Up*. The Background Music: *BLASTS the Imperial March*” but like, they actually really do that. Like the time where they have Anakin take out a terrorist about to blow up an entire ship full of people and then play the Imperial March afterwards and imply he’s a “cold-blooded killer” just to defend the moral purity of the two people who were gonna stand there and let the ship blow in the name of idealism.

I’m getting off topic but yeah, sometimes the show’s Vader foreshadowing makes sense, sometimes it’s pretty forced, and the Clovis arc DEFINITELY leans towards the forced side, and when they try to force more of Darth Vader into Anakin at a point where he shouldn’t quite be there yet, it screws with his entire character.

This is particularly shown in the majority of the show’s takes on Anakin’s relationship with Padmé. Namely, they tend to forget nearly the entirety of AOTC with the exception of the Tusken murder scene, then forget even more of ROTS up until the point where Anakin strangles her on Mustafar. Basically, they take the truth that it was Anakin’s unhealthy attachment to Padmé that sparked his Fall, but then they decide to run with it where almost every single interaction he has with her in the damn show is him being a toxic overbearing dick to her and her acting like she mildly tolerates him at most and definitely doesnt respect him as like, I guess a way of showing what happened on Mustafar is in character for them???? Ugh, I’ll explain further.

So with Anakin’s aggressive possessiveness towards her. We know Anakin has possession and attachment issues. We know he’s a clingy needy whiny anxious mess who’s constantly afraid of losing or driving away the few people he has pinned his entire happiness on. We know he leans unhealthily on Padmé to provide the majority of his emotional support. We know he’s convinced himself he can’t live without her. But never, NEVER is it seen in the movies where his possessiveness turns into outward aggression towards her or this douchey pushiness. Never does he treat her like his property, like she belongs to him.

Not until Mustafar.

Not until he’s raving, half out of his mind with the warring emotions over the atrocities he’s just committed, until he’s begging her to understand where he was coming from, begging her and the child to stay with him and justify his decision, until he sees Obi Wan and sees her backing away from him, leaving him, and he PANICS because oh no no no you can’t abandon me, I need you, doN’T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME. And he lashes out and tries to force her to stay, punish her for leaving and doubting him, and he puts that hand around her throat.

And that is supposed to be when we know he’s crossed the line, when we’re supposed to be horrified, where we know he’s lost himself, because he has NEVER ACTED LIKE THAT BEFORE.

Now how does Anakin act before? In the movies? He’s deferential to Padmé in almost every other scene they’re in together.

In AOTC, yeah he stares at her a bit creepily from a distance, he says awkward things and does goofy stuff to impress her, but he does Not get in her face. The few times he does invade her space, she flat out tells him: stand back. Don’t look at me like that. Don’t say that. Don’t interrupt me. And Anakin always, always backs off, respects her wishes. He follows her lead and lets her call the shots both on Naboo when he’s supposed to be protecting her and when she organizes the Geonosis rescue and once they arrive where she flat out tells him “I’m a Senator, I’ll handle this, just back me up”, and he’s all but just “ok yes queen”.

But they aren’t married then. Fine, take ROTS. It’s a movie all about Anakin’s issues but even then, when he’s worried about Padmé dying, he tells her he’s worried and that he can’t lose her, but he still keeps a distance. He doesn’t constantly hover and loom over her. If anything, Padmé, both in ROTS and AOTC is always the one to approach Anakin and close the distance when there’s conflict. When Anakin is upset, he averts his eyes and distances himself, tries to draw in on himself and brood silently, and we’ve seen it in Palpatine sometimes (of course with bad motives but he still does), but Obi Wan and Padmé both especially needing to be the ones to come over, turn his face to them and be like “hey, look at me, I care about you, what’s wrong”. Padmé SAYS in ROTS when he’s feeling specifically conflicted about losing Padmé, “don’t shut me out” and has to come over to him because he’s retreated into a corner of the room to scowl angstily out the window. Anakin does NOT get overbearing and possessive of her or get in her face, not once in the films.

In the fucking show? The Clovis arc, while perhaps the worst offender, isn’t even close to being the first time Anakin has been overly pushy and aggressive with Padmé, or acting like she’s something he owns, From that time in the Senate Hostage ep where he’s bugging her about ditching work and all but acting like incels texting like “awww but babe my dick hurts :(”, from the FIRST Clovis disaster ep where he’s childishly trying to screw up Padmé’s mission, to the Clovis arc in season 6

And this is where they just roll right in with their “oh so Anakin’s an overbearing, entitled douche” bit with the interaction he has with Pads and he’s trying to talk her out of taking the Clovis assignment and he says something along the lines of “as your husband, I demand you don’t do this”.

Hwat. The Fuck.

What kind of caveman-esque, 1800’s-ass man of the house whom my wife must obediently serve kinda entitled-ass BULLSHIT?!?!?!?

Like, I’m sorry, I really am, but that is just completely out of left field and not like Anakin at all. I mean to the point that when he’s an evil Sith Lord trying to talk her into taking over the galaxy with him, EVEN THEN he does not include “Padmé you must join me because I’m your husband and you do as I say” sort of domineering assholerly.

Anakin does not push Padmé around. He does not TRY to assert authority over her or try and force her to do shit. Not only because she doesn’t put up with that kinda shit for a second, but because Anakin respects Padmé; he will treat her with respect. He always has, and sometimes like in this arc it really doesn’t feel like he does.

Now of course Padmé’s response to the “I own you” declaration is “fuck you, asshole, I do what I want” and doubling down on her decision, and then decides to go even harder on the mission if only to spite her douche husband (and we’ll get to Padmé’s characterization in a bit) which is a very different kind of Anidala conversation we see in the show as opposed to the movies (also discussed later).

Now, the reason for Anakin’s overbearing douchery ties directly into an overarching problem in TCW— honestly, one of the very few issues I have with this show, but the problem is that it touches nearly the entire thing —and that is they almost completely reworked Anakin’s personality to be more hyper-masculine alpha male.

This is a topic I’ve discussed on my blog before, but the gist is that in the movies, Anakin was not the typical male heroic protagonist and DEFINITELY not what people expected from Future Darth Vader The Masked Brutish Male Power Fantasy. He was awkward, he was shy, he was soft spoken, he was clumsy around the girl he liked, he was very openly romantic, he liked frolicking in fields and candlelit dinners and snuggling. Two of the most important people in his life were soft, feminine women and he openly loved them very dearly and very gently— and he deferred to them when he felt it was right, as I’ve mentioned before. He CRIED when he was upset and was messy and emotional. And fanboys hated this with a burning passion. They couldn’t project their power fantasy onto this!!!! The Anakin critics were a HUGE part of the mob who crucified the prequels to the point of chasing both Anakin actors practically out of the movie industry in general.

The Clone Wars writers were obviously petrified of this happening again. So their solution, as has always been Star Wars’s solution to hateful fans being upset about an innocent character, is to completely rework them, hide or retcon all the undesirable qualities, and act like everything was all fixed. Now don’t get me wrong, there are aspects of TCW Anakin that I adore. As I’ve also mentioned before, they got his humor, his cleverness, his eagerness to do the right thing, to help people, his relationship with Obi Wan and Ahsoka and his men, they got that all perfectly. But the rest??? TCW’s solution to the criticism of Movie!Anakin was to turn him into an agressive, dominant, violent shadow of everything “soft” he was in the movie

Now, he speaks loudly and more deeply. Now, he’s cocky and overconfident and while yes he was arrogant in the movies, now it’s dialed up to like an 11. He never cries, never even THINKS to show a negative emotion that’s not Manly Rage And Aggression(TM). And then there’s the way he is around the women in his life. No more awkwardness or shyness, now he makes jokes about being a “ladies man” and does whatever the fuck flirting he does with Miraj Scintel even though the Anakin from the movies would have needed like every scrap of his self control just to look at her without insta-murdering her face. And then there’s how he is with Ahsoka and Padmé. He is muuuuch more of a loud brash dudebro around them who pushes his weight and is kind of controlling and their solution is just to have the both of them be Strong Women(TM) who Fight Back whenever he tries it too hard with them.

With Ahsoka, it’s not too bad because it’s a brand new dynamic and she’s a rather agressive firecracker personality herself when we first meet her, so the constant Snips n’ Skyguy snipefest works for them. For Padmé? It just means that in far too many episodes they’re in there’s a point where Anakin says something Eh and Padmé gets mildly irritated to actually annoyed with him for it and she’ll talk down to him and then there’s an argument between them because he’s bullheaded and she’s a Strong Woman. Why do I consider these out of character?

In the movies, despite the flaws, Anidala is a couple who actually tries to communicate. Anakin feels open to speak about his troubles to Padmé and her to him (for the most part, she definitely has a savior complex and a tendency to squash her own shit so she can help deal with both Anakin’s and the galaxy’s at large) when they’re worried or concerned about something and they want to talk it out, so they’ll talk it out!

The problem with Anidala isn’t that they don’t communicate, it’s that they try but also only do it by halves because they hate fighting. They’ll talk, Anakin will say something that Padmé might disagree with— the fascism discussion in the Naboo field in AOTC, the question of whether the Republic is just or not in TPM —and she’ll try and correct him if she feels he’ll listen, but if he doubles down, she’ll go “ok you know what, agree to disagree, let’s not fight” and she subtly changes the subject because she hates fighting with him. If Pads says something Ani doesn’t like— telling Obi Wan about them in ROTS, some emotional advice she tries to give in both movies —he’ll flat out shut down and be like “I don’t want to talk about this, let’s drop it” and then seek out cuddles or affection as a distraction.

And that brings us back to the Clovis arc. The scene where the “as your husband” line occurs. Anakin is trying to talk Padmé out of doing this not because he’s jealous. Maybe he was jealous the first time he met Clovis and saw Padmé being all cute n’ fond with her old flame, but this time it seems almost entirely because last time ended in catastrophe and he’s genuinely worried for Padmé and feels she’s not thinking wisely, that she’s putting herself in danger.

However, Anakin is deciding to voice these concerns in Possessive Dudebro Pushing because of the aforementioned misguided Vader Foreshadowing and Toxic Masculinity. Padmé? Is not even CONSIDERING what he has to say, is just breezing on through and shutting him down at every turn and generally acting like he’s a dumbass who doesn’t have a clue about anything.

Now, it is very in character for Padmé Amidala to be all “I’m right, you’re wrong, fuck you don’t get in my way”. HOWEVER, they aren’t framing this as solely Padmé having a goal and bulldozing her way through the situation. That’s not how they frame this.

They frame this as: Padmé is embarrassed that she misjudged the situation wrong the last time and embarrassed even further that Anakin had to step in and get her out of trouble— which he brings up —and probably remembers that he made fun of her while he did it—

(Timing out to say that THAT scene was also OOC; they once more wanted a Vader parallel what with Anakin’s silhouette when he opens her cell door and the way Padmé’s sleeping pose is identical to Leia’s in ANH. But Anakin basically steps in and gives her this condescending-ass “awww the little wife’s gotten in over her head like I SAID she would, good thing I’m here to rescue her!” bit that’s really just MEAN. It’s not like him and Obi Wan’s/Ahsoka’s teasing snark whenever they have to pull each out of trouble, he’s just kicking her while she’s already down. Really, Anakin’s reaction should have been a lot less humorous and a lot more pissy; she didn’t listen to him, didn’t trust him, and ended up in danger because of it. It’d be a surly and upset “I told you so”, not an amused one.)

—and now it seems much more like Padmé is solely taking this assignment to spite Anakin for being a dick and to pettily prove that she knows what she’s doing rather than any sense or urge to do the right thing. And....... childish pettiness????? Is not Padmé. And yet, she has the entire immature “don’t tell me what to DO, Anakin” attitude this whole arc that amounts to WAY more than just the normal response she would have to his overcontrolling dickishness

And once again, it’s because she, like everyone else in the episode, seems to think the problem Anakin has is that he’s jealous of Clovis. He’s not, not really. He’s insecure, yes, but he also knows Clovis is a bag of dicks as well, and trusts that Padmé knows she’s better than that. His problem isn’t fears he’ll lose Padmé, it is entirely that Padmé isn’t listening to his concerns, doesn’t trust him, is going into a situation they both know is unwise, and he is frustrated he’s not in a position where he can look out for her since he feels she’s not looking out for herself. And, he’s not entirely wrong. Padmé IS being reckless and kind of irrational solely to prove a point. He just goes about it pretty much entirely the wrong way, which is what you can really say is the cause and effect formula for any problem Anakin Skywalker encounters and subsequently makes worse.

And then there’s That Scene. The one where Clovis tries to force a kiss on Padmé and Anakin freaks and almost kills him for it. I’ll start off by quoting another Tumblr user on that very scene by saying in regards to Clovis: “that bitch deserved that”. The almost murder? Maybe not that far, but the initial hitting for disrespecting someone’s “no”? Yep, that was deserved.

My first criticism is that Anakin shouldn’t have even had time to attack him because why the fuck wasn’t Padmé instantly kneeing him in the balls?!?! Like Padmé is not prone to violence immediately, no, but she can will and does defend herself immediately when she needs to— her right punch knocked someone tf out once when she was pissed —and she already gave him a warning that his advances were not welcomed.

Now, I am absolutely not victim blaming. I am NOT saying it is the fault of a woman (I’d be a hypocrite if I did and that’s all I’ll say on THAT), or of anyone when faced with sexual harassment, if they don’t fight back for whatever reason, no matter how capable of doing so they may be. What I’m saying is that considering her previous behavior and personality and the fact that the show NEVER goes deep enough into explaining heavy stuff like why victims might freeze or NOT fight back when faced with harassment, I feel like showing her not attempting to defend herself at all is kinda strange.

Now, Padmé’s utter passiveness to the situation aside, we’re going back into toxic masculinity and misunderstood interpretations of how Anakin displays possession. While I’ll repeat that Clovis deserved consequences for the forced kiss, Anakin going full caveman defending his property jealous rage just. Doesn’t feel right to me. Again, I think Anakin would probs hit him and put the fear of living god into him, maybe even I’d buy the attempted murder if they framed it as Anakin doing it because he hates those who force their will on others and disrespect women, but the whole that’s MY wife and you’re touching her shite just once more feels alpha male aggressive ridiculousness. Like again, I understand Anakin is possessive of Padmé, but not like this. I’m sorry, but I just cannot see that, him fighting over her like she’s a scrap of meat.

Like, I completely think she’s in the right tho to put them on a break after he does it though. That’s well within her right.

But then onto the FINAL part where after Clovis goofs and fucks them all over and then dies, she forgives him and blames herself for everything and apologizes. And like, that part I do see as in canon and character for her and for Anakin. He doesn’t like to admit his mistakes, her mistakes weigh on her and when she fails to fix or save someone, she falls into depression and upset and self-blame.

But the fact that Clovis died because Anakin dropped him? Anakin Skywalker, who scaled an entire elevator shaft carrying two people over his back who combined probs weighed more than Padmé and Clovis. Anakin Skywalker, who’s used the Force to lift tons of debris, who’s used it to hold back explosions, Anakin Skywalker, MOST POWERFUL FORCE USER IN HISTORY WHO TENDS TO RELY ON BRUTE STRENGTH FOR MOST SHIT ANYWAY. That Anakin couldn’t pull two people over a ledge?!?!?!?!? This has always bothered me.

Like to be honest; I feel this entire episode could have been so fixable too. Like keep Anakin’s obsessive worry over Padmé making a mistake, keep the best part of the arc which is his talk with Obi Wan where Obi Wan tries to connect with him and explain that he’s not alone, all Jedi have emotional struggles and have loved, if perhaps he wants to TALK to someone about it, Obi Wan is here for him, like that? That’s okay!

Just ugh ffs, get rid of the nasty Anakin treating Padmé like a naughty dog who won’t obey him and the Padmé purposely acting unwisely to spite Anakin plot. Have the entire conflict be both of them being upset that the other doesn’t trust them, doesn’t believe in their advice, keep Padmé’s speech about how marriages NEED trust and compromise to survive, take all of Anakin’s aggression towards Padmé and transfer it to aggression towards Clovis, like make the conflict him menacing the guy if he hurts Padmé again just because he’s being overprotective and “if you won’t look out for yourself I will” and Anakin getting constantly checked for not being able to control his emotions, Padmé can tell him off for being overprotective instead of overaggressive and his possessiveness can instead show through him arguing that he needs to keep her safe at all costs. THAT can be the argument.

And if they want the Vader foreshadowing? Like real, in-character Vader foreshadowing??? Tbh, drop the Clovis beatdown, drop the machoness towards Padmé, and just have Anakin blatantly DROP the douchebag at the end of the episode instead of his hand slipping. Make him choose to ACTIVELY kill Clovis. Like THAT, Anakin taking the law into his own hands and deciding that he knows best and this guy is dangerous and has fucked up one too many times, there being an opportunity where there’s an chance to save Clovis when they’re alone without Pads, “be a Jedi, Padmé wouldn’t want this, do the right thing” Clovis might say, and we can see Anakin’s face considering, and then he just “Long Live The King”s him and lets him fall and die, THAT is an in-character Vader foreshadowing.

Then at the end of the episode, we can have Anakin lie to her, say Clovis slipped, say it was too late, and Padmé can believe him, thank him for trying. Then there’s the same thing where Padmé apologizes, and we can have a callback to the convo about trust and she adds that she’s sorry that she didn’t trust him, and when she says that, we zoom in on Anakin’s guilty face.

There. That’s how I’d fix these episodes

And THERE, I think I’ve complained about everything, I am SO sorry for the gigantic ass post and response, I’ll add a read more once I’m on my laptop and not on the beach on mobile.

But yeah anon, I hope that satisfies your question xD

Once again, I welcome discussion if y’all either agree with me or if you have any differing opinions, I know my takes are far from hot for several people and I’m curious to see what others think!

#i’m SO sorry i got carried away but yeah this arc and one or two others (one in particular) are the only arcs that kiiinda set me off tbh #long post #ask #anon #one (1) hot mess #queen of my heart #star-crossed lovers #sw the clone wars #anidala #the clone wars

[purplecatghostposts]

If you're still doing the song writing ask thing,,, could I ask for frenmy(or as others call it,, frenreylatta) with 1 or 24? 👉👈 Or just frenmy in general I will appreciate and holde whatever

CANNNN do!!

(Also I’m juuuust now realizing these are song titles I just saw one word and went ‘LETS WRITE A DRABBLE OFF OF THIS’ oops- uh enjoy either way!)

—

For better or for worse, Tommy isn’t always taken completely seriously.

Which is fine. Tommy can brush it off, he might have some “Childish Interests” but he’s a grown adult, he can take a hit or two.

(Tommy doesn’t know why anything has to regarded as childish when anyone can and should enjoy anything and not get shit for it but that’s a whole other can of worms).

But when Tommy says things like, “Grab a soda, it’ll help you see faster!” Nobody thinks twice about it. Which is good, because Tommy didn’t mean to say it at all. There’s certain things Tommy doesn’t like to talk about and his more ‘Inhuman’ attributes is one of them.

Son of “The G-Man” has a few perks after all.

The ability to make his eyes glow and see in the dark, the ability to create- both living and non living things, immortality and the ability to share it with something like a dog he created with his own two hands, and most of all, a connection to Time itself.

Tommy has all of these abilities under control, except for the very latter of the bunch. Because turning on and off your eyes like a flashlight is something he’s been doing as a kid; Immortality he was born with, sharing it came to him in his late twenties; and while difficult, Tommy now has a bit of a knack for creation; but Time? Time is something else entirely. It’s its own entity, and not even his father has much control over it.

And of course, with a difficult entity like Time, Tommy got saddled with the worst ability to have little control over. His father, G-Man, can freeze, suspend, and even travel through it. Tommy can see it, and Time shows him too much.

Tommy does not dream, he Sees. The branches of time are shown right before his eyes whether he likes it or not, and possibilities are laid out. Time is not set in stone- there’s millions of timelines and ways it could go- and when he sleeps, Tommy can see them.

There’s no physical way to stop it without fully mastering it, but Tommy has found that there’s a few things that can make it more pleasant or at the very least, bearable. Low stress or going to sleep happy and content means he usually sees happier timelines. Caffeine, for whatever reason, means that when he sees timelines, it’s at a speed where he doesn’t have to comprehend anything or have to see something he doesn’t want to see. So far, it’s the only two methods he knows, and since he can’t always control how stressful his situation is, Tommy turns to soda.

He means what he says. Soda helps him see faster. He’s just glad that he doesn’t have to explain it to Gordon. His inhuman attributes used to scare other kids off when he was younger, and he knows that Gordon is an adult like him and probably won’t run, but the fear runs deep and Tommy keeps his mouth shut.

Benrey knows, of course. He’s not human either, he understood. But even when Tommy has bad dreams, he doesn’t like to bother other people about it. They’re just dreams, he can handle them.

Until they get personal.

Tommy has been seeing dreams about how it could end for them in Black Mesa for days now, but his intake in soda means he doesn’t really process them. They pass by in a flash and Tommy wakes up and promptly forgets about whatever was shown to him.

But of course, his luck runs out.

Tommy’s leg bounces anxiously as he stares at the broken vending machine. Nothing but water- no caffeine. Water is good for survival- Gordon gulps it down greedily then gawks when Benrey eats the whole bottle in one bite making Tommy laugh- but it means Tommy’s at risk for bad visions. And with the stress of soldiers starting to come at them as well as aliens, he suspects that tonight will not end well.

There’s a tug at his sleeve. Tommy glances down to meet Benrey’s eyes, who studies him silently. He knows something’s up- of course he does- but Tommy smiles like there’s nothing to worry about. Benrey won’t confront him directly- not unless he’s certain it’s really bad- but he has a feeling that Benrey’s still going to try something in his own little way.

“Getting late.” Gordon comments, rubbing his eyes. “We should probably get some rest.”

“Baby Feetman wants a nap?” Benrey grins lazily. Gordon rolls his eyes in response, but doesn’t look all that annoyed. He’s more relaxed than usual, looking less like he’s a twig about to snap and more a river who’s just going with the flow. In fact, Tommy swears Gordon smiles for a second.

“Shut up, you got dark circles under your eyes. You could use it too.”

Benrey rolls his eyes. “Haven’t slept this entire time, don’t intent to start now.”

Both Tommy and Gordon’s attention snaps to him. Benrey almost shrinks under the spotlight, looking utterly confused. “Uh... Care to fill a bro in on what I said wrong..?”

“You haven’t slept?” Gordon’s voice raises.

“Benrey, that’s not good for your health!”

“Jeez fuck- I don’t need to sleep to live, guys.” Benrey cuts in. “Not like you guys. Besides, someone’s gotta keep watch so like, I don’t sleep. S’not a big deal.”

“Benrey, you- you told me that half of your energy to use your abilities comes from sleep.” Tommy says slowly.

“Yeah, and the other half is food. What of it?”

Gordon joins in. “We’ve gotten the bare scraps of food down here. You- you have to be running on empty.”

“Don’t worry about it, Bro-”

“No!” Both Tommy and Gordon shout simultaneously.

Benrey jumps, eyes darting between the two of them and rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, this isn’t fair, you’re tag teaming me, I deserve someone on my team.”

Dr. Coomer pokes his head from around the corner, Bubby following. “Is something wrong? We heard some shouting!”

“Hey, Coomer, Bubs, you uh, you gotta back me up, they’re bullying me.” Benrey points accusingly at Tommy and Gordon respectively.

Bubby shrugs. “Just do what I did whenever someone bullied me.”

“Somehow I feel like this is going to be bad advice...” Gordon mumbles.

“Set them on fire.”

“Andddd I was right.”

Benrey pretends to consider it for a moment. Gordon rolls his eyes at him, earning a smile from Benrey. “But uh, these two keep yelling at me because I haven’t slept. Tell them to stop.”

Dr. Coomer frowns and Bubby narrows his eyes. Tommy snickers to himself, knowing Benrey isn’t winning this battle.

“You haven’t slept? What the hell do you think you’re doing? Fucking dumbass.”

“Benrey, sleep is an important function we all need to live!”

Benrey groans into his hands. Gordon grins cockily. “Hey, Bubby, Dr. Coomer, mind taking watch tonight while Tommy and I get Benrey to sleep?”

Bubby snorts like it’s obvious. Coomer smiles brightly and nods. “Of course! If anyone tries to come after you in your sleep, we’ll take care of them, if you know what I mean.” Coomer winks, then makes a punching gesture.

Gordon laughs at that. Tommy rather likes when Gordon laughs, his whole body moves with him. It’s wholehearted and genuine and if it were possible, Tommy would love to bottle it and keep it with him.

Tommy’s fully aware that he’s rather smitten with Gordon and Benrey. Benrey’s his best friend and Tommy is fine if it stayed that way, but he’s also felt a certain romantic fondness for him too. Benrey’s not easy to decipher but Tommy has learned he shows he cares in the subtle ways. How Benrey learns to read people and distracts them when they feel down. He’s done it to Tommy himself, and recently, he’s seen a very similar sentiment towards Gordon.

And Gordon wears his heart on his sleeve, which is endearing on its own. Tommy sees the way he acts around Benrey and around himself, and he can’t help but wonder if Gordon might feel the same way he does.

They find a place to camp out and before he knows it, Tommy has Gordon on one side and Benrey on the other. Despite lying on the concrete ground, Tommy doesn’t think he’s ever felt more comfortable in his life. Benrey’s curled up next to him and Gordon is lying on his side with an arm over him and Tommy feels himself get lulled to sleep. He doesn’t want to ever move again.

His dreams are not as kind as his situation. Because Tommy Sees all possible timelines, and one too many of them involve two of the people he cares about most in the world.

Benrey betrays Gordon and gets his hand get cut off. Gordon betrays Benrey and Benrey comes back not looking quite right. Gordon lets Benrey die, Benrey lets Gordon die, Benrey stands on an alien planet and attempts to kill everyone- does kill everyone. Gordon stands on an alien planet and sees Benrey being the thing they have to kill and he doesn’t hesitate.

They tear each other apart, no matter what Tommy says or does. And in a few timelines, their rage is directed towards him, and Tommy’s heart breaks into two.

“Tommy? Tommy, bro, c’mon, you gotta wake up.”

Benrey’s voice pulls him out of it. Tommy sits up, trembling and reaching out blindly. His vision is blurred and all attempts to speak come out as quiet sobs. A pair of hands grab onto his while a second gently touches his shoulder, grounding him to reality.

“Benrey?” It’s deathly quiet but it’s unmistakably Gordon’s. “Benrey- his eyes- is he okay? They’re- they’re gold-!”

“I know, dude, this happens sometimes, he’ll be okay.” Benrey responds, shockingly calm. “Tommy sees bad things sometimes when he goes to sleep and sometimes they’re overwhelming and this happens. Just... Trust me and follow my lead on this?”

A beat. Tommy tries to wipe his eyes but tears keep streaming down his face.

“Okay. I trust you.”

Tommy can’t see but he has a feeling Benrey is smiling a little at that.

Benrey and Gordon both begin to whisper reassurances and ask him what he can feel around him. They talk and talk and talk until eventually, Tommy can finally see them again and the anxiety in his chest is manageable.

“Thank you...” Tommy gives them a weak smile.

“Bad visions?” Benrey guesses. Gordon looks mildly confused but doesn’t ask questions. Tommy nods in response. “You... Wanna share or nah?”

Tommy’s gaze lowers. He sucks in a small breath. “It- it was a lot of bad timelines with you two. And I-...” He hesitated for just a minute but thinking of the timelines again made him push through it. “And I really care about both of you. A lot. In- in a platonic as well as a... A romantic way.”

Silence. Tommy swallowed thickly, not wanting to look at either of them and unsure if he made the wrong choice to tell them or not.

“Oh thank god, I’m not the only one.” Gordon blurted out. He let out a long breath, laughing softly. “I was- fuck, I was really struggling there.”

Benrey cracked a smile. “Cringe Gordon can’t deal with gay feelings? How embarrassing for you. Can’t believe I have gay thoughts for such a loser.” His eyes turn to Tommy and his smile grew. “I guess having gay thoughts for a really cool guy balances it out so it’s chill.”

Tommy couldn’t stop smiling. Was this really happening? Were they really all just on the same page? “R-really?”

Benrey shrugs. “‘M kinda surprised, thought I was obvious.”

“You’re not obvious with anything.” Gordon tells him, rolling his eyes but relaxing his shoulders.

“I...” Tommy let out a laugh. “I- I really care about you both! And- and after we get out of Black Mesa... I want us to stay this close.”

Benrey nodded. “‘Course we will. You’re some of my best bros and how else would I kiss you both goodnight like all bros should?”

Gordon snickered, then cleared his throat. “Hey uh... Have we all just been holding this in the entire time even though we all felt the same-!”

“YES.” Bubby screaming from across the room made all three jump in surprise. Bubby and Coomer were both sitting by the door, Bubby wrapped in Coomer’s arms but he still scowled at the three of them. “You’ve all been pining like a bunch of fucking idiots. Just ask a guy out by setting half a building on fire like a regular person!”

Tommy looked back at the other two and laughed to himself. Soon enough, the three of them were laying down again but this time, Tommy wrapped his arms around one each and held them close to him. In the morning, they could talk more about the three of them and their newly forming relationship, but for now, they deserved to rest.

Gordon’s head rested against Tommy’s shoulder while Benrey clung to him. Tommy felt his eyes get heavier and heavier but he wasn’t as afraid of getting a bad vision. Partly because he had two of the most important people in his life in his arms and he knew that those futures wouldn’t be his, but also partly because even if the visions did get to him, he had support when he woke up.

His own personal paradise. There was a light at the end of the tunnel and Tommy knew that by the end of this, he wanted both of them by his side and in his life for a long time.

—

I don’t know why this turned into a Tommy Lore/Angst Fest BUT hopefully it turned out alright! I hope you liked it! These three are veryyyy soft and it was sure fun to write! Feel free to send in another request if you want!

#hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #benrey #hlvrai gordon freeman #tommy coolatta #frenmy #frenreylatta #SB Writes #My Fic #My Drabble #Ask Meme #Ask Game

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, my thoughts on that last reblog, and the TYPE of protectiveness showcased on Bruce’s part.....and to be 100% clear, this is not meant as a call-out to the OP of that post whom I don’t know and have nothing against, its simply about the fact that this kind of view of Bruce and certain forms of his parenting are not at ALL uncommon in fandom, and I’m just kinda like hi, yeah, I have some issues I would like to raise here plz and thank you:

So the issue I have with so many headcanons that pair massive invasions of privacy and disregard for personal boundaries with the idea that this is Good Dad Bruce Wayne....is that no matter what one feels this says about Bruce’s concern for his children, it simultaneously also says or implies that for such extreme measures to be deemed good and not invasive, and as such NECESSARY.....then his children are not just headstrong....but UNREASONABLE.

Because families fight. The Batfam moreso than a lot, sure, but even still, I think anyone trying to pitch the existence of Good Dad Bruce Wayne is still ultimately trying to build a case for a Batfam who even when they fight, still love each other.

But with a family like that, no matter HOW much they fight....they’re still ultimately all going to understand and be ABLE to keep an awareness that even while FURIOUS with each other....this doesn’t mean they don’t care about each other’s well-being and want to know and be reassured that they’re alright.

And this is what’s not on display on the side of Bruce’s kids, anytime a fic or headcanon or meta defaults to justifying Bruce going to extreme lengths to look out for or even just check up on his kids....because intentionally or not, it paints his kids as total assholes if they’re not even willing to accommodate basic requests about checking in or being checked up on, so at least their dad who loves them knows that they’re alive and well.

Only if and when his kids just flat out stonewall and block any and all LEGITIMATE attempts by Bruce to check up on them, do his more invasive attempts at doing so become necessary and thus ‘justified’ to any degree whatsoever....

With the biggest issue here being that so many fics and headcanons just hop, skip and jump straight over and past any attempt at Bruce giving his kids the OPPORTUNITY to meet him halfway and at least check in or reassure him they’re safe despite being pissed for other reasons....

And go straight to Bruce keeping them under surveillance in manners that wouldn’t be out of place with the CIA’s protocols for watching enemies of the state or what-the-fuck-ever.

And all the while, treating it as though its just a GIVEN that Bruce HAS to resort to such measures....because just....calling them on the fucking phone isn’t going to get him anywhere.

Like yeah, if you want to write a story where he tries that and they block him at every turn, and so Bruce ‘has’ to resort to less than stellar measures to gain any peace of mind, go ahead. Just don’t be surprised if when you write it all out in such a manner, showing each step of the way rather than just skipping straight to the endpoint there as though its a foregone conclusion, you run into people commenting with judgmental opinions of the kids and what assholes they’re being, that Bruce feels he has to go to such lengths at all.

Because I think the reason we so rarely see people ‘showing their work’ here and just jumping straight to Bruce asking forgiveness rather than permission (while umm, usually still not ever asking forgiveness which is sorta kinda still a necessary ingredient of that axiom but I fuckin’ digress).....is because I think deep down most people know that it isn’t really in character for all of the Batkids to just refuse any and all legitimate attempts at checking up on them purely out of spite, just being all “well I’m mad at you so I want you to SUFFER, OLD MAN, yeah, go ahead and wonder if I’m dead or not! Suck it!”

Like, even Jason or Dick at their ‘pettiest’ - I think most people would agree that its more that they’re characterized as WANTING to hear Bruce express actual concern for them....and only getting as pissed as they do because Bruce just flat out refuses to do so and defaults to taking measures that don’t treat them as having any kind of competence, maturity or autonomy of their own....and thus are virtually indistinguishable from actions taken purely out of a desire to control everything around him, rather than a father just being concerned for his kids. 

Even when they’re at their most spiteful in regards to not wanting Bruce to know what’s going on with them, its born of an undercurrent of hurt, I maintain, as they’re really mostly just pissed off that there’s even a question of whether Bruce actually cares or Bruce is just being controlling. Because kids shouldn’t HAVE to read between the lines and interpret surveillance tactics as parental concern just to even FEEL like their dad gives a damn, because their dad just flat out refuses to come out and SAY it.

Like, that’s not a big ask, at all, and thus its not something any of the kids are at all unreasonable in wanting and yes, even expecting from their father. Which makes it really obnoxious and one-sided when they’re implicitly painted as being unreasonable for wanting this, because a narrative or headcanon has just zoomed past “calling them on the phone and asking them how their day was like a normal person” as if it was never even an option for Bruce in the first place. Like it was just a given that he had to go full Operation: Periscope In the Plumbing to scout out their current state of health. And there was no sense in wasting time with like, an in person drop-in visit to say hey, haven’t seen you in awhile and I miss you and just want to make sure you’re doing alright and don’t need anything.

(Ever notice how many fics treat it as a given that Bruce always makes the kids come to him and this is normal and reasonable and fine, for him to never venture forth from his manor in search of them.....except in rare cases where its often almost framed as though a visit from Bruce is codenamed “I Can’t Believe I’m Having To Resort To Coming To Your Place Because You Won’t Just Come To Mine Like A Good Son Would?” Just saying).

But yeah.....the problem is never, and has never been, Bruce caring about his kids and being concerned and willing to go to any length to make sure they’re okay or be reassured of this.

The problem is when its implicitly treated as though Bruce launching operation SPY ON MY KIDS LIKE A GOOD DAD DOES as his step one is like, more reasonable and understandable and just BETTER...as opposed to......just being like “Alexa, call my kids” first instead.

Like....no. That is backwards. That is not Good-Dadding. That is Creeper-Dadding. Bruce’s kids are one hundred thousand million bajillion times valid for being like WOW COULD YOU JUST NOT in response to this, because aside from the whole issue of how “is this totalitarianism or just good parenting” should not be something that’s actually in question and needs distinguishing, like.....there is a very real, very understandable (and for some of us) very relatable element of “I am also feeling all the hurt and resentment that you’d rather bug my apartment or hack my phone than just fucking TALK TO ME LIKE A HUMAN BEING and treat me like you place a modicum of trust and respect on any answers I give from my place of Being an Adult Who Is Actually More Than A Little Bit Competent and Responsible, Not That You’ve Noticed Apparently.

Also, a good exercise here would be like, before deciding on a course of action for Bruce in regards to one of his kids, first imagining another character you aren’t as predisposed towards, like, deciding on that exact same course of action in regards to that exact same kid.

For an example, look at the time Tim left Gotham in Red Robin and wasn’t speaking to Dick, and how Dick still very much was concerned about him and wanted to check up on him.

Look at how even just Dick asking Tim’s friends like Steph and Cassie to check in on him for Dick was characterized by a lot of people.

Now imagine if Dick had been like “well, Tim’s not speaking to me no matter how much I try to apologize to him, but I’m still really worried and concerned about his safety and well-being, and also I am his big brother and I know what’s best for him....so I am going to bug his phone and ask Raven to spy on him magically and also maybe ask Superman to occasionally lurk in the bushes outside his hotel room and peep in on him and report back on his breathing patterns like a creeper BUT ONLY BECAUSE I TOTALLY CARE AND THUS NONE OF THIS IS UNREASONABLE.”

Like......hmm. Does that fly with most people? Would that go over at all well, or do you think that maybe Tim might have pitched the mother of all unholy temper tantrums upon hearing that Dick had done any of this let alone all of this....AND BEEN COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED IN PITCHING SAID FIT ABOUT DICK’S CHOICES HERE?

Would this be at all defensible on Dick’s side of things, even with it being 100% true and even taken for granted that he only did this because he genuinely loves his brother and was genuinely worried about how he was doing and hell, even IF it was genuinely a given that Tim was not going to give him the time of day no matter how he went about asking Tim to just check back in occasionally to let Dick know he was still alive and alright?

Or would it - even in light of all that - still be seen and construed as invasive, infantilizing and disrespectful of Tim’s rights to privacy and self-determination, not to mention his capabilities in looking out for himself?

Now......swap a few characters in and out of the key slots here.

Imagine Bruce in Dick’s place here, enacting any or all of the above or even actions slightly less hyperbolic but no less intrusive or boundary-crossing.

Would any of those actions be any LESS invasive, infantilizing or disrespectful of Tim’s rights to privacy and self-determination, as well as his capabilities....just because Bruce is his father and not his brother?

See what I mean?

Its never at all an issue that Bruce loves his kids and is concerned about their safety, nor is it actually untrue that his kids aren’t stubborn and headstrong.

The only actual issue is when its framed as though all of this means that Bruce skipping to “launch drones from Batcave” before he even TRIES “hit speed-dial on phone”....

Is both valid and necessary, and thus a sign of a Good Dad....rather than just Bruce’s own fears of being rejected or turned away by his kids. Or an example of his own flaws with interpersonal communication rather than evidence of his kids being completely unreasonable little assholes with a lifelong commitment to Suck It Dad, Yes Even IF You’re Legitimately Worried I Might Be Dead Right Now.

Et cetera, et cetera.

[spaceskam]

Draft #4 and #41? Are they too different to combine? Maybe a 5+1 fic.... 5 times Michael explores his queerness and 1 time he and Alex go all out to a queer club (in ABQ or LV or LA)? 😉😃😘

freedom has no price

here it be! I’m super proud of this (with the exception of the last part but we can’t all be winners) and a special thanks to @draculaspetbee for helping me out with the 4th part! hope you enjoy! 

ao3

.1.

Wind combed through Alex’s hair, but it only slightly made his bottle of nail polish wobble in its place in the bed of Michael’s truck.  The two had been laying there for hours in the presence of each other. Regardless of how hot New Mexico summers could get, the desert was the best place for them to be.  No one could spot them out there. The last thing they needed was someone telling Alex’s dad that they were still seeing each other, even when they knew he’d be leaving for God knows where in less than a month specifically so he wouldn’t be around Michael.

But Alex enjoyed being around Michael even though he was risking some dangerous consequences.  Even if being around Michael consisted of watching him read a tattered up textbook he borrowed from the library on quantum mechanics.  Alex was growing to love that stupid book though. Every 10 minutes or so, he would sit up dramatically and announce something Alex hardly understood, excitement radiating off his body like a teenage girl who’d just gotten a text from her crush.  Alex then got to watch him collapse into his sleeping bags and read some more with big, engaged eyes. Michael didn’t seem to mind the fact that he couldn’t move his left hand whenever he had Alex and a book in proximity. It gave Alex a fuzzy feeling in his stomach.

“Y’know, Alex,” Michael suddenly said, taking Alex’s eyes away from his nails.  They were dry for the most part since he’d only been touching them up. “I think you’re the only guy in the world who can pull makeup off that well.” Alex cracked a smile, gently using his socked foot to nudge his thigh.

“That’s just not true,” he laughed.  Michael pursed his lips, resting his head on the book as he stared up at Alex.

“Okay, maybe not, but you definitely pull it off the best,” Michael decided.  Alex shook his head, unable to take his eyes off the boy he felt ungodly blessed for knowing.  Michael made him feel like he was safe and wanted and Alex was drunk on it every time he looked his way.

“I don’t know, I think you’d look sexy in makeup.” Michael’s cheeks flared up a bright red and he turned his nose towards the book, trying to hide the sheepishly smile.

“Shut up,” he whispered.  Alex was sure his heart skipped a beat and he was overcome with the urge to make sure that smile didn’t go anywhere.  He leaned closer, placing his hand on the back of Michael’s thigh.

“Nah, seriously.  I mean, you’re already sexy as hell, but… some eyeliner?  Mascara? Maybe even paint your nails? Fuck, Guerin, you’d be…” Alex tried to find the right word to make him squirm as he cautiously inched his hand further up.  Michael was chewing on his lip, staring at Alex with daring eyes.  

Michael was always unpredictable.  Sometimes he seemed to be the nerdiest and most innocent boy in the world.  He’d blush, he’d giggle at neck kisses, he’d occasionally prefer to ramble about physics in lieu of making out if not at the same time.  However, other times, he’d basically be possessed by a trained seducer. He’d smirk and flash the most challenging eyes in the world, he’d tease in a way that made Alex forget his own name, he’d lure a side of him out he didn’t know existed.  He dreaded the idea of leaving it all behind.

“You know, you can… you can do my makeup whenever you want,” Michael said.  Alex moved his hand to the small of Michael’s back.

“Well, I have a few things in my bag if you’re tired of psychics,” Alex suggested.  Michael sat up.

“Okay,” he said, letting his physics book fall to the wayside.

Alex was a little shocked that he was actually willing to let him put makeup on him, but he sorted through his bag anyway. The idea of making his manly, psychics-loving mechanic boyfriend all pretty with eye shadow and lipstick had him feeling giddy. He never thought Michael would let him.

After screwing the top back on his nail polish, he scooted closer to Michael with his makeup bag in his lap. It wasn’t a big collection and he definitely planned to have more one day, but this would do for now. Michael grabbed his knees and pulled him basically into his lap, smiling as Alex made himself comfortable.

“First of all, we need to get this out of the way,” Alex said, using his fingers to try and push Michael’s curls away from his face. However, it didn’t work very well as they just bounced right back into place. So, he fished in his bag and pulled out a bobby pin, securing the thick curls out of his face as best he could. “You’re so cute.”

“You’re cuter.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I’m not arguing with you about this, accept that I’m right and close those pretty eyes,” Alex instructed. Michael licked his bottom lip before listening. Alex dried it with his thumb which earned a content sigh from his boyfriend.

They fell silent as Alex pulled out the small eye shadow palette Maria had gotten him for his birthday. He used his middle finger to put the gold color on his eyelids. Michael was a calm participant, hardly flinching even when Alex lined his eyes with black eyeliner.

“The first time I put on makeup, I flinched like fifty times,” Alex commented.

“I was Isobel’s test dummy the summer before freshman year. Those were never good looks,” Michael said. Alex huffed a laugh.

“Well, I’m doing my best to make you look decent,” he insisted.

“I trust your skills more than I trust 14-year-old Isobel’s,” Michael admitted. Alex just hummed in response and chose not to focus on that compliment, pulling out his mascara.

“Blink for me,” Alex instructed softly. Michael did as he said until his eyelashes were evenly coated. He couldn’t help but smile at his work. He was right, add a little something and he would look fucking gorgeous. He couldn’t help but kiss him.

“Mmm,” Michael hummed, trying to follow when he pulled away. Alex held him in place.

“One more thing, open your mouth.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Alex rolled his eyes and searched for his gold-colored lipstick that he admittedly spent his first paycheck on. It was so pretty that he just couldn’t help himself even though he knew he’d never have an excuse to use it. Now felt like the perfect excuse.

Alex held Michael’s jaw and carefully coated Michael’s bottom lip with it.

“Now rub your lips together like this,” Alex said, showing him what he meant and watching him messily copy. Alex spent a few seconds touching it up and then leaned back, taking in his full face. “That’s a really good color on you.”

“Thank you,” Michael answered even though he didn’t even know what it was. Alex sort of wished he knew more about makeup if only to do his face even more justice.

“Wanna see?”

“Yeah.”

Alex pulled out a compact mirror and gave it to him, watching him open it to look at himself. Michael stared at himself and blinked a few times as if he didn’t know how to react.

“Do you like it?” Alex asked softly.

“Yeah,” Michael answered.

He kept sneaking peeks at his reflection for the rest of the evening. Alex didn’t say anything.

.2.

“I think you would look good in a dress.”

“Mmm, I don’t know about that.”

Cassie Anderson had met Michael Guerin the way she met most boys that were too pretty to make sense: at a bar that was so run down that he seemed to glow in comparison. She’d seen him shooting pool and had bought him a drink. She didn’t realize that would lead to her spending seven nights in a row with him in her bed, trying anything she asked with the utmost respect.

It was strange to have a twenty-year-old boy be simultaneously really good in bed, really gorgeous, and respectful as hell. It made her much more comfortable asking for things than she usually was with men she’d only known for a week. She liked that.

“Why not, have you ever worn a dress?” she asked, rolling onto her stomach to look at him. He was still laid out on the bed with limbs splayed in every direction, face entirely blissed out. As masculine as he was, he took a strap like a champ.

“No,” he said, tilting his head in her direction with that sweet little smile he wore whenever he was willing to entertain whatever she wanted, “But I’m not really built to fit in one.”

“I bet I could find one in my closet that would fit you,” Cassie suggested. He blinked slowly and then started to turn his body toward her.

“Oh yeah?” he said. She smiled at him, wide and confident. She reached over and placed her hand on his slightly hairy stomach, rubbing just enough to get that content little sigh from him.

“I know you like being macho, but you’re pretty too,” she said. Michael rubbed his eyes and nodded.

“Okay, I’ll entertain your vision,” Michael said, “On one condition.”

“What?” Cassie asked, already smiling as she sat up.

“It stays between me and you. No making fun of me to your next boy toy, alright?” he said, voice playful as he sat up.

“Of course,” she agreed easily. He grinned and leaned in for a kiss that she accepted. In her 26 years of living, she’d never met a man so down for whatever. She would be sad to see him go whenever this eventually had to end. However, she liked the idea that he’d stay a fun memory.

Cassie climbed out of bed and headed to her closet, searching for something that had some type of lace-up to cinch to his waist. She was a little bit bigger than he was and a little bit taller, so that felt like a necessity. She found one that was floral against black and a string lacing up the back. Perfect.

She brought it to him as he laid all posed on her bed. She rolled her eyes before grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet, relishing in his light-hearted laughter. He was so cute it was hard to manage sometimes. How the hell had she gotten him to come back so many nights in a row, again?

“Raise your arms,” she instructed. Michael smirked.

“You gonna dress me up, Mama?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she laughed. He obeyed though that shit-eating grin never left his face, letting her pull the dress over his head. It was a little tight over his broad shoulders, but not so tight he couldn’t lift his arms so it felt like a win. “Turn around.”

Cassie tightened it to his waist, creating a faux hour-glass figure that his shitty jeans could never. When she spun him back around to face her, she took a step back to admire him. As expected, he was fucking gorgeous.

“You look hot,” she said. He smiled helplessly. “No, seriously, you’re so pretty.”

“I’m not.”

“Look, come see,” she urged, pulling him towards the body length mirror. She continued to admire him and felt a familiar heat pool in her stomach as she watched him admire himself. He twisted a bit in the mirror, a different shade of confidence on his face. Suddenly it wasn’t just confidence about his behavior, but about how he looked. “See, you’re gorgeous.”

“Maybe,” Michael agreed, biting on his bottom lip. She grabbed his hips gently and he leaned into her. “Okay, so maybe I’m pretty.”

Cassie laughed and moved her hand to tilt his chin for a kiss. He folded into it, turning around to press himself into her and deepen the kiss. She smiled through it, her hands wandering and pushing up the skirt of the dress to feel the skin of his thigh.

“You’re so pretty,” she breathed.

“I feel pretty,” he agreed.

If they played dress-up for a few more nights before going back to being strangers, no one needed to know.

.3.

“Your skin is smooth.”

“Yeah because I shave and use moisturizer, take the lesson.”

Benny Giuliani had been pretty entranced with Michael Guerin the moment he saw him. He may or may not have gone to get his car fixed for dumb things five times before ever asking if he might be interested. He found it hard to guess those kinds of things and, eventually, Michael had to do the actual asking. Benny had simply sat there fumbling over ‘well, you see, is there any way you might be, like, I don’t know’. He accepted the teasing Michael gave him for it with ease.

“I didn’t know guys could shave,” Michael breathed, hands still roaming over his arms and his chest as he kissed his neck. Benny tried not to get too distracted by it, but it was admittedly difficult. He liked him so much.

“I used to be a bodybuilder,” Benny told him, “It was sort of a requirement. I like how it feels, though, so I kept it up.”

“Mmm,” Michael hummed, biting gently on his shoulder and soothing it with a wet kiss. Why had he waited so long to come out? He could’ve had cute boys kissing on him way earlier. How had he gone 30 years without men and then three more years without this one in particular? “I’ve thought about it.”

“I-I could teach you,” Benny offered, gulping softly as Michael pressed hard into back and kissed his neck. God, how did anyone focus?

“That sounds like the least sexy thing you could teach me,” he said in a low voice, pushing into his back harder. Benny laughed, catching him before he basically toppled them both off the bed. He pulled Michael around him to where he was sitting on his lap. He instantly went in for a kiss.

“Does everything I teach you need to be sexy?” Benny asked against his lips. Michael hummed and rubbed Benny’s bearded cheek, grinding his hips down just enough to be distracting. “I can teach you how to shave, one gay guy to another.”

Michael broke the kiss and leaned back.

“I’m not gay,” Michael said. Benny’s eyebrows met in the middle in confusion.

“Then what are you?”

“I’m...” Michael started, pausing for a moment as the gears turned in his head. Benny waited patiently. How could a man who so confidently hit on him in public not be gay? “I’m Michael. I don’t do labels. I like what I like.”

“But you like men,” Benny pointed out.

“You’re only the second guy I’ve been with, I usually hook up with women,” Michael said. Benny’s stomach dropped and insecurity he hadn’t felt in awhile built in his stomach. “But I do like you, I like hooking up with you. I just… I’m not gay.”

Instead of dwelling on the topic that made him want to throw up in confusion, he chose to backpedal in favor of a different, lighter conversation.

“I can still teach you how to shave,” Benny said, reaching up to touch his face. He was so… small. He couldn’t be upset about how he chose to label himself when he was still so young. Twenty-three was too young to know anything, right? “I bet you’d like the way it feels.”

Michael breathed in deep and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his mouth.

“Okay,” Michael agreed, “Teach me.”

Benny lifted him off the bed and carried him towards the bathroom which earned him nothing but sweet giggles. It melted most of his worries about Michael’s intentions with him, but he still tried not to get too attached at the way he was holding onto him.

He sat Michael onto the counter and tried to let go, but was pulled in for a kiss that lasted a little longer than he expected. He didn’t complain, completely entranced by the way he kissed and the way he existed. Michael was a closed book who refused to tell him really anything about his personal life. Benny didn’t know where he lived or what he did for fun. He didn’t know who his family was or about his childhood or about his sexual history. He didn’t share. He was just kind and willing to do whatever and it was hard not to be attracted to that.

Eventually, Benny separated from him and pulled out a pack of disposable razors and grabbed a fresh one. Michael was leaned back against the mirror, watching him with a smile and half-lidded eyes. He always looked at him like that, like every move he made was something worth watching. It made it even harder to understand how he didn’t consider himself gay.

“You wanna take off your pants? It’ll make it easier,” Benny suggested. Michael smirked that filthy fucking smirk.

“Sounds like you have an ulterior motive,” he said. Benny smiled and shook his head, hoping his beard covered up the fact that his face was turning red. “Don’t worry, Daddy, I listen well.”

Yeah, the beard definitely didn’t hide the blush well enough.

It took a few minutes, but soon he was showing Michael just how to shave his legs. Then it led to his arms and his chest, basically leaving his entire body so smooth that even he couldn’t help but touch. He was in nothing but his tight black boxer briefs, his tan skin glistening with water. The only hair left on his body was basically covered, only showing with a line coming from those boxers and the wrecked mass of curls on his head. He looked like a fucking god.

“I think I look pretty,” Michael acknowledged. Benny watched him drag his hand over his own chest, watched him look at himself in the mirror with nothing but intrigue. He stared at himself and his hand gradually got lower, his briefs so tight that Benny thought it had to hurt. He swallowed hard and took a grounding breath.

Benny pulled out his favorite lotion and gave it to him.

“Seriously, it’ll change your life,” Benny told him. Michael just tilted his head, pouting slightly as he laid against the mirror again.

“Why can’t you do it for me?” he asked softly.

So he did.

Their time together only lasted a few days, but Michael stayed on Benny’s mind for years.

.4.

“Incoming.”

Riley looked over their shoulder at the warning the bartender, Maria, gave, trying not to roll their eyes at the man coming their way. He walked with an all too confident swagger and leaned against the bar, eyes not even trying to pretend they had another destination aside from Riley.

“Never seen you before,” he said, tilting his head to the side. Maria laughed at him and slid him a drink that he didn’t even have to ask for.

“Don’t fall for his shit, Riley,” she said before walking away. The guy just smiled and Riley decided to entertain him at the very least. There was nothing better to do in this shit town.

“Riley, huh?” he asked. They nodded and took a sip of their drink. “I’m Michael.”

“And you also apparently have a reputation.”

Michael simply grinned, baring his teeth in a way that said he knew exactly what the hell he was doing. “Maybe.”

Riley finished off their drink, wondering just how many people had boosted his confidence for him to think he was charming through a simple smile. Granted, he was charming through a simple smile, but he didn’t need to know that. Riley shifted to face him completely.

“So, you new around here?” he asked. Riley smiled easily, tilting their head to the side to match Michael’s.

“Is that the best pick-up line you have? That’s kinda sad,” they said. Michael’s smile broke out into something wider, rubbing his hand over his chin.

“You got me there,” he said. Riley sat patiently as his eyes looked them up and down as slow as humanly possible. They had to admit it, they liked that. Confidence truly was key. Michael moved just a little closer, not even paying any mind to his drink. “But it still doesn’t answer why I haven’t seen you before. I’m pretty sure I’d notice.”

Riley reached out and grabbed the drink that was meant for him, enjoying the amusement in his eyes when they took a sip. It was fun to make him wait.

“I moved here for work,” they answered eventually.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a mechanical engineer in the army,” they said. Something flashed behind his eyes that they couldn’t quite catch before it was hidden away again.

“You must make a lot of money then,” Michael said. Riley huffed a laugh, shaking their head at him.

“That’s not something I share with strangers.”

“Let’s not be strangers then.”

“Okay,” Riley agreed, “Let’s not.”

Michael licked his lips and moved closer, fully entering Riley’s personal space. Honestly, they didn’t mind. In fact, they liked it. He was cute and he was interested. Maybe he wasn’t the best idea, but no one around could convince them that it was the worst either. What else could one ask for in a one-night stand?

“So, what’s this for?” Michael asked, reaching out to touch the flag patch on the right sleeve of their jacket. He made eye contact to clear that it was okay to touch which was more than Riley could say about most people that hit on them.

“It’s a pride flag,” Riley told him, “It means I’m non-binary.”

Michael nodded slowly, eyes only a little confused. “Which means…”

“It means I don’t really fit into the whole gender binary thing,” they said. He nodded a little more confidently and smiled, his hand still on their arm as he seemed to fit the pieces together in his mind.

“Cool,” he said, his hand sliding a little further down to a different patch, “So then what’s this one?”

“I’m also bisexual,” they told him. Michael’s eyebrows pulled together and he continued to stare and, honestly, it was weird that that was the one that caused his brain to short-circuit. “It means I like all genders, by the way.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, tilting his head up to look at them with an actual serious look on his face. “So, like, how did you know?”

“That I’m non-binary?”

“No, that you’re bisexual,” he said, not moving out of their close proximity despite the fact that the tone had completely changed. Riley just tilted their head in confusion, waiting for him to add more of a question. In the grand scheme of things, their sexuality had seemed to be the most obvious thing. They liked boys, girls, etc. Simple as that. “Like, when did you realize that’s what it was? And not that it was something else.”

“Well, labels are pretty subjective, so it depends. Why?” Riley asked. Michael looked at them in the eyes, still confused and curious all at once.

“Okay, so, say I’ve slept with women and men. Does that make me bisexual?” he wondered. Riley held back a sigh. So much for a one-night stand.

“I don’t know, do you think it makes you bisexual?” they said. Michael just stared blankly at them. “I can’t tell you what you feel. Did you like being with both men and women?”

“Yeah.”

“So, maybe you are,” Riley said, which was the first thing to make Michael take a sobering step away. This time they actually did sigh. “Or maybe you’re pansexual. It’s really up to you on what fits the best to the way you feel.”

“That’s stupid, I want someone to just tell me,” he grumbled. Riley rolled their eyes and laughed. It seemed to bring a little bit of ease back into the conversation. “Say I was bisexual. That means…”

“That you’re not alone in the way you feel and whoever you’re attracted to is completely valid, you just have a word for it now,” Riley finished. Michael smiled at them and, again, moved in closer. Maybe the door for a one-night stand wasn’t closed.

“You’re pretty cool,” he acknowledged.

“I knew that, but thanks,” they said. Michael snorted a laugh.

“No, but seriously. Thanks. I’ll have to look into it a little more,” he said. Riley nodded.

“You should.”

“But, for now,” Michael said, leaning just a little bit closer, “What do you say we get out of here?”

“I want you to know that was the worst build-up I’ve ever seen,” Riley told him. Michael smiled, big and unashamed. “But I’m not in the mood to say no, so let’s go.”

The two of them made it all the way to Riley’s truck before Michael moved in all the way, kissing them finally. They knotted their hands in his shirt and pulled him in closer for a biting kiss. He seemed to fold into that, willingly being pushed into the side of the truck.

“I know I didn’t give much of a build-up, but I can give you one now,” Michael said in a breathy tone between kisses, “You’re really fucking hot.”

Riley grinned and kissed him harder. “I know.”

Michael laughed, “It’s okay. I already know I’m hot.”

“I’m sure you do.”

It took awhile, but they eventually made it back to Riley’s place. They spent the night talking and fucking until the sun rose before agreeing to see each other again. That one-night stand turned into a four-night stand before tapering off into just nodding to each other in public.

Yeah, Michael Guerin absolutely wasn’t a bad idea.

.5.

Alex pulled Michael into a damn near suffocating hug when he saw him again.

It was Alex’s twenty-sixth birthday and he’d just signed his life away for another four years, but that didn’t even matter if he got to be home with Michael again for a few days. He missed him like life itself. How the hell had he gone so long without him?

“I missed you,” he whispered against his neck, pressing a kiss there for extra measure. Michael squeezed him tight right back. They stayed there for a while in that goddamn airport just hugging the life out of each other because they could.

“Let’s go,” Michael murmured, “I wanna go home.”

Alex agreed without hesitation.

The drive home was agonizingly long and quiet, but Alex stayed tucked as close to Michael’s side as he could. He knew if anyone around here saw him, a man in uniform, cuddled up to a man that looked like Michael, they’d both get the dirtiest looks. So he closed his eyes.

“Hey, you know you mean the world to me, right?” Michael asked, so soft that Alex barely heard it. But he did and he smiled, pressing in closer.

“Yeah.”

“So, can I tell you something I figured out while you were gone?” Michael continued, voice still hesitant and soft.

“Yeah, anything,” Alex agreed, reaching for the hand he didn’t have on the steering wheel. He cradled it between both of his encouragingly. He wasn’t quite sure what Michael was preparing to say, but he was open to whatever he had to say. Honestly, he just liked hearing him talk. He missed him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Okay, so you know how we agreed we could hook up with whoever while we’re apart?” Michael said. Alex opened his eyes and tried to ignore the sick feeling he felt because of that. He tried to school his features as best he could and pushed away the urge to think of the worst case scenario.

Instead of asking what he did, Alex said, “Yeah.”

Michael took a deep breath and pulled over into the desert, putting the truck in park and turning to face Alex completely. Alex had no idea what to expect and was beginning to get nervous. He played the last thirty minutes over in his mind. Michael hadn’t kissed him hello, but they never did, but did that mean something bad this time? Were they over? Had he found someone new?

“I don’t know how to preface this, so I’m just going to come right out and say it,” Michael said, letting out another heavy breath, “I’m bisexual.”

Alex felt his entire body deflate and he put his hand over his racing heart with a laugh, trying to calm himself down over that frankly miniscule reveal.

“You scared the shit out of me framing it like that, you know?” Alex said. He realized that was probably the wrong reaction when he noticed that Michael hadn’t moved, staring at him with nervousness written all over his face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You’re not mad at me?” he asked softly. Alex felt like he had whiplash from that statement, sitting up straight and turning to face him completely.

“What? Why would I be mad at you, baby?” Alex said, softening his voice as he reached up to caress his cheek. Michael still seemed reluctant to buy it. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“I said I’m bisexual,” he repeated, “I’m not joking.”

“I don’t think you’re joking,” Alex assured him, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. It wasn’t that hard to figure out. He moved closer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. I just thought it was something serious.”

“I am serious.”

Alex stared at him for a moment, took in his face and the almost fear in his eyes. For a moment he hadn’t even considered that he might be feeling the way Alex did when he came out to someone new. Bisexuality just didn’t seem like as much of a problem, especially when you were talking to someone you were already sleeping with and, for the most part, people wouldn’t think anything of it. He could pass as straight or gay with no problem depending on the occasion.

And that was the problem. He was beginning a never-ending cycle of coming out over and over and over to whoever he spoke to.

“Why would I be mad at you for that?” Alex asked again, shaking his head. Michael shrugged.

“Some people don’t like that.”

“Well fuck them. Thank you so much for telling me,” Alex said, scooting even closer to the point he was almost in his lap, “I’m sorry I laughed. You didn’t laugh when you found out I was gay, I’m sorry. I just really thought you were going to say something bad so it was sort of a relief.”

Michael took a deep breath, closing his eyes and resting his head against his. Alex cradled his head in his hands.

“It’s okay.”

“I don’t want you feeling like you can’t tell me things. Seriously, thank you for telling me,” Alex told him, “Have you told anyone else?”

Michael shrugged. “The person who taught me the word, but that’s it. I wanted to tell you first because I figured you’d be a safe person to tell.”

“Well, yeah, I don’t care what you are as long as you’re happy,” Alex told him, weaving his fingers into his hair, “I’m sorry I laughed.”

Instead of talking more about that, Michael moved in for a kiss. Alex accepted happily, pulling him in closer. He missed kissing him more than he could even put words to. He missed him. He dreaded the fact that he had to leave him again. One day, he wouldn’t have to. One day, they could be together.

“You sure you’re okay with it?” Michael asked one more time. Alex smiled.

“I’m more than okay with it,” he told him, pulling him back in for a kiss, “How does it feel, though? Coming out of a closet you were never really in?”

Michael laughed, a genuine sound that was so, so much better than the nervousness of before. Alex kissed him again through it. He never wanted to let go.

“Good,” he said, “It feels good. Really good. A weight off my shoulders, honestly.”

“I love that for you,” Alex told him, giving him one last kiss, “Now let’s get home and celebrate for real.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

It was all fun and games until Alex admitted that he’d re-enlisted. He left a few weeks later, more unsure than ever about his and Michael’s relationship. But, hey, they’d gotten through shit before.

What was one more bump in the road?

+1

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?"

Michael couldn’t help but admire Alex as he leaned in the doorway of the bathroom. He looked good as fuck, dressed head to toe in black with a leather jacket and tight jeans. His hair was growing out nice and perfect and Michael just adored him. But he had to take his eyes away to focus back on not cutting the area around his ankle.

"Why are you shaving your legs?" Alex asked, stepping in further and sitting down on the chair that was in front of the sink. Michael stole another glance. That was his boyfriend. His for-real-this-time boyfriend. Wasn’t that wild?

“Because we’re going out tonight,” Michael said like it was obvious. Which it was. Michael didn’t really try to keep it a secret anymore about what he did and didn’t like to do. After some trial and error in life, he’d realized that the best way to exist was to do exactly what he liked. So he shaved his legs and he wore a skirt and did his make-up when they went out to a club. He was out and proud and it felt good.

“Mhm, we are,” Alex confirmed, “We’re supposed to leave in ten minutes though and you’ve got a lot of getting ready left to do.”

Michael gave him an innocent smile before just pursing his lips for a kiss. Alex rolled his eyes and dragged the chair closer to the bathtub, leaning to give him a kiss before sitting back down.

“Isobel’s gonna be pissed that we’re late,” he pointed out.

“She’ll get over it,” Michael insisted. Alex huffed a laugh and shook his head.

“How about this, I’ll do your face while you finish up that? It’ll speed it up,” Alex suggested. Michael flashed a wide smile. He liked when Alex did his make-up. It made him feel like a teenager, confused and in love. Honestly, that’s how he felt around Alex most of the time anyway.

With a little bit of telekinetic energy, Michael brought his make-up collection to Alex’s lap. It was a bit of a team effort to do, but it did indeed pass the time. Granted, it also made Michael want to just pull him into the tub with him and kiss him until his lips were numb, but that could wait.

Eventually, they both finished and Michael dried off as carefully as possible. Alex just sat and watched which, honestly, Michael understood. He could watch Alex get dressed and undressed over and over for the rest of his life. Sometimes, he even liked watching himself get dressed and undressed. Alex didn’t seem to have a problem with that either.

Instead of wasting more time thinking about that or the fact that Isobel was already honking her horn outside, he got dressed in a short white skirt and a relatively loose, white button-up that was only about one step away from completely see-through. He tucked it into the skirt before double checking that his hair and face looked alright.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Alex told him, coming up behind him and pressing a kiss to his neck.

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true.”

Michael turned around to kiss him, honestly wanting to just stay home at this point. He liked getting dressed up and he liked looking like a fucking wreck and Alex liked him regardless. It made him feel loved in a way that he couldn’t quite find the words for most of the time.

“Isobel is going to piss off my neighbors if we don’t go out there soon,” Alex murmured.

“Okay, okay,” Michael sighed, “Let’s go.”

It was strange to think that it had taken him so long to find exactly where his place in life was, especially since he’d honestly had right in the beginning. No matter what, Alex was a safe place to call home and explore and love. No judgement, just him. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t seen that immediately. Or maybe he had. But, honestly, those what if’s it didn’t matter anymore.

He was happy .

Simple as that.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #roswell new mexico #my fic