#Nick is an absolute treasure

[knickynoo]

07x07 "Heartstrings Pt. 3"

[ilkkawhat]

12.18 Malice in Wonderland

[thewulf]

Top Gun Masterlist

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Jake "Hangman" Seresin

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Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

My Girl✿✦‎

[thegnomelord]

omg yes for the Ghost fic request you can do prompt 3 instead that would be great, thank you. some angst with a happy ending please

Sure thing dude, sorry this took so long, but a happy xmas to you lol My hyperfixation hyperfixated on this so it's a bit long and expositiony but I'm actually really happy with how this turned out :D Play the game HERE

Prompt: "Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me.”

CW: NSFW, subbot Ghost, domtop Mreader, angst, misunderstandings, gentle sex, making up kinda, confessions, fwb turned lovers, idiots in love,

Simon's apartment is a picture of painful domesticity; your muddy boots sit neatly next to his by the door, two mugs set next to the coffee maker, two toothbrushes left on the sink only a foot away from different shower products that have long since mixed together into one giant pile, and a dozen more little things that tell anyone with a cursory glance — 'yeah, two people live here'.

When people wonder why you practically live together when you're just casual, you both just say it's convenient (and ignore how fake your answers sound).

After all; Why leave after he's ridden you to both of your completions when you can just settle on the couch and share a drink over a movie? Why should you waste money on a cab to get back to your own flat when you two can just tumble into bed? Why should Simon wake up to an empty and cold flat when he can do so in your arms, your steady heartbeat remind him you're both alive? Why leave in the morning and miss one of the few times Simon's fully relaxed when you can have a lazy morning, laying in bed and enjoying each other's company until the sun's high in the sky?

Why leave at all?

. . . Simon treasures every moment with you as much as he hates it, every second in your presence like a pretty hummingbird singing sweetly in his ear while it drills holes into his skull. Absolute Hell. Utter bliss.

He knows he doesn't deserve you. Knows you don't deserve to have a living corpse crawl back into your arms every night, nothing but a stranger with Simon's face. But you two have known each other so long it's impossible to let you go.

You met as toddlers when you'd nicked his toy, refusing to give it back until he agreed to play with you, and you've been stuck at the hip since. You two were each other's first kiss, fumbling behind the school bleachers, eager and sloppy like inexperienced lads are. First set of blooming hickeys along his collarbones, Simon's ma giving him a knowing look when she'd noticed it amongst the other bruises her no good husband had left on him. First fuck, quick and rough in a dark janitor closet during basic training, burning with need and heat. First—

. . . Simon doesn't know when the word 'Love' first registered in his brain. Maybe when you tore up heaven and hell looking for him. Maybe when you stuck by him when he did his best to scare you off, all rough words and teeth, unable to form one nice word when violence and revenge was all that was left in his head.

He doesn't know when he registered the word. Only that he looks at you whenever you do something mundane and thinks 'yeah. Love. That fits.'

But love has no place in. . . whatever this is. Hell, he's the one who'd set the ground rule when you two were young and dumb, reaffirming it after he'd come back as Ghost. And you'd never fought against it, agreeing to just be fucking casual, there's no way you want anything more than this. He doesn't want to cock it up, doesn't want to take more from you than he's already done, so he swallows all he feels and ignores how it burns his throat, going day by day like nothing's changed.

He wakes in your arms, deeply ingrained training waking him before dawn but the heat of your body keeps him rooted in place. Distantly he can still feel the cold tight confines of that coffin, of maggots wriggling on his skin, but memories of that nightmare float away before his traitorous mind can latch on to them. He lays in bed, head firmly on your chest so he can hear you, see you breathe. Morning comes too soon and you rouse awake, laying a sweet kiss on his forehead before getting out of bed to set the kettle on.

It's domestic.

It's painful.

. . .

You love how Simon looks. You especially love how he looks in his civies, freed of his armor and no longer needing to be guarded at all times, shoulders relaxed and mindlessly looking around as you talk while you browse the store. He's still gruff, and sarcastic, but you love that about him. You loved him long before he said not to tangle emotions in your meaningless bliss and long after he'd come back as Ghost, each unknown scar on his body taking a chip out of your heart.

And you respect his choice. You'll take what you can get and won't give it up even after your corpse has grown cold, hoping that will be enough to drown out the neediness of your heart. You lost him once and it had nearly killed you, you can't lose him again. . .

God, you're pathetic for him.

You meet miss Betty on your way back from the shop. She's your neighbor a few doors down, a sweet old lady who waters your plants when you and Simon are called back into action. You see her struggling with her bags so you hand your own to Simon so you can help her, "Hold this, please?"

"Only because you asked nicely." Simon huffs, but takes the bag without further complaint, walking behind you as you help miss Betty with her shopping, content to listen to you two talk about who knows what. It still amazes him how you've managed to charm all the neighbors Simon rarely spoke to.

"Oh, thank you deary." Miss Betty says as you put her shopping next to her door, holding onto your arm for support. "It's so nice to have a helpful person around here."

"It's not a problem ma'am." You say with a small smile, and fuck if Simon's heart doesn't beat a bit faster at the sight.

"You know," Miss Betty begins. "My grandson's been eyeing you up. And I can see why, you're such a strapping young man."

You feel Simon's gaze fall on you like a dagger, cold, hard, expectant. You try to think of what to say but your words fail you, because while you and Simon aren't in a relationship you can't picture yourself be with anyone else. "I-"

"Oh don't worry deary, I told him he was barking up the wrong tree." Miss Betty cuts you off by giggling like a school girl, "I wouldn't want to separate you two love birds."

The words burning on your tongue escape you before you can filter them. "Yeah, I doubt I could love anyone other than Simon." You clear your throat after, feeling his eyes on you.

Miss Betty just coos. "Oh, to be young and in love." Then she turns, waving her walking stick at Simon like he's an annoying pigeon that flew into her house. "You better treat him properly you big oaf, he's good for you."

Oh, Simon knows. Knows you're too good for him. But all he lets out is a small grunt, and you can't help the surprised laugh that escapes you.

You don't think of what you say next, so far away from a warzone your defenses are lowered. "No need to worry ma'am, he's the love of my life and I can assure you he treats me very well."

There's that word again, and the way it leaves your lips has Simon's heart skipping a beat. Fuck, Simon wants to hear you say it until he's deaf. Wants to hold your jaw closed so you don't speak again and stop making him feel this. Wants to pull you close and throw you out of the window at the same time. Wants— . . . he doesn't know what he wants.

"Oh, well I won't hold you up any more dears." Miss Betty says, patting you on the arm before shuffling back to her apartment with her shopping.

There's an uncomfortable silence between you two while you get back to Simon's flat, neither one of you sure what to say about the damn elephant in the room. You take the bags you'd given him, your back to him as you put them on the counter.

Acting like nothing's wrong. Nothing's changed.

But it has.

"An' you say my heart's rotten." Simon grunts, gruff and harsh, too many thoughts brewing in his head to properly say what he's thinking.

You turn to him, surprise obvious on your face. "What?"

"Lyin' to old ladies." His jaw is tense behind his face mask, which you note he hadn't taken off when the front door had closed, back to being guarded around you, something between Simon and Ghost. "Granted, it was convincing. What, did you take some creative writing lessons from Laswell?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, then you feel your jaw tense as well. "Christ, Simon, what are you on about?" You growl, stomping over to him.

His shoulders tense as you approach, but the scent of your cologne calms his body without his mind's input. "Can't love anyone but me?" He asks, something cold and slimy settling in your stomach when you realize he's repeating your words. "Love of your life am I?" Simon scoffs, the skin around his eyes moving in a sardonic smirk. "You're full of shite."

He doesn't know who he's trying to convince here.

You know you should brush it off, go along and say it was just a joke. Say anything that won't clue him in to your real feelings. Hell, not even saying a thing would be good.

But you just have to open your mouth.

"I wasn't lying about that Simon." You say suddenly, open, honest, your eyes meeting his.

Silence stretches long enough to have your nerves crackle with static, your body needing something instead of the nothing he gives you. Then Simon lets out a short, dry laugh, like your words are just a joke.

"Quit it." He huffs, doesn't meet your eyes because looking at you and entertaining the idea that he could have something more with you fucking hurts. "'m not up for your focking jokes." He grows, turning to leave,

Something inside you makes you move before your mind can comprehend it, grabbing his hand to stop him, "Simon I love you damn it!"

Your words are like a slap to the face for him. Simon freezes like a cornered deer, thousands of thoughts darkening his eyes, brows furrowed like he doesn't know whether to be angry or not. "But we—'

"—we agreed, I know. I fucking know." You hiss and damn it you can feel tears prickle your eyes like needles, "But I fucking love you, been in love with you for years and I know we agreed not to but—" You're babbling now, each word leaving your chest feeling raw like an open wound, the weight on your shoulders lessening but it only draws the noose tighter. "—just tell me how I'm supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me."

Silence greets you as you stare into his eyes, that same static gnawing on your nerves the longer he just looks at you without a word, searching for something in your eyes he expects not to find.

But he does.

He spares you, pulls you by the clothes so his lips can crash onto yours, holding you close like you'll disappear. The kiss is sloppy and desperate just as it had been when you'd been hiding behind the school bleachers, all teeth and tongue and care.

Eventually the need for air breaks you two apart, but Simon refuses to let you go far. His rough hands hug you close as he rests his forehead against yours, pupils blown wide. ". . .love me, huh?" He says under his breath, as if he can't believe it.

"Yeah." You breathe out and wrap your own arms around him till there's not an inch of space between your chests, hearts beating fast like war drums but in such a rhythm you'd be fooled to think you share one. "Do you?"

Simon swallows, his throat dry, but the words slide smoothly off his tongue. "Yeah." He says, letting you pull him back into a kiss. It's sweeter this time, calmer, no longer rushing to feel the other. He melts against you, a low sound building in his throat as the sensations of you wrap his mind in silk, the taste, the feel, the scent, all of it making his mind fuzzy. All his now.

You lose track of time, stealing gulps of air between kisses as your minds drown in the other, your bodies moving on their own. You don't know how you end up in the bed but you do, your skin prickling with goosebumps as Simon's body presses against your own.

You part to catch your breath, Simon's head falling back on the pillow with your name leaving his lips like a prayer. He's underneath you, eyes hooded and short hair ruffled, and while usually he'd push you back and wrestle for control, this time he just melts into the sheets, lets you do as you want.

"Fuck-" Simon growls as you kiss down his neck, his blunt nails scratching your scalp as reward for the little hickeys you leave on his throat. Your hands roam across his body, leaving lingering trails of burning heat. "Love, please hurry up." He breathes out, cock already rock hard from just a few kisses and heavy touches.

"Right," You say, because that's all your brain can conjure up at the moment. Blindly reaching for the lube you trail kisses down his front, your lips tracing every scar along the way, his legs easily parting so you can settle between them. You can't help but look him over again, all relaxed and eager for you, chest rising and falling like he's a racehorse. "God you're fucking pretty."

A deep flush spreads from Simon's ears down to his hickey marked shoulders, a little smile tugging on the corner of his lip. "Just pretty?"

"Beautiful." You breathe out against his abdomen, rubbing your fingers together to warm the lube. "So handsome." You don't miss how his cock twitches, your lips following his happy trail. "Charming." You hum against the tip of his cock, tongue lolling out to lick at his slit. "Bloody bewitching." His hips buck into your mouth as your fingers slowly circle his puckered rim, putting just a bit of pressure at first. "Irresistible." His body yields, the tense muscles of his rim going lax and letting you slide a finger in.

A low and long groan escapes his chest, eyes fluttering shut as he savors the stretch, tight walls clenching in the rhythm of his breaths. "Read a dictionary, did you?" Simon smirks, heart warm and floaty at the way you wait for him to relax after the intrusion before you move, at the way you look at him when your exploring finger brushes his prostate and makes him moan. "Such a focking charmer."

"Just for you." You chuckle, lightly sucking on his cockhead to make him forget about the lingering pain, your ears pricked to hear every little groan and unabashed moan leaving his lips. "Can you handle two?" You ask, your second finger resting against his rim without trying to push in.

He growls like an animal and pushes his hips down on your hand, "You're sleeping on the couch if you don't hurry up." He warns at your question, his harsh glare softened by the heavy flush across his face and his hooded eyes.

"Not the dog house." You say in mock fear, swallowing his leaking cock a third of the way down in one go as you push your second finger in, your thumb rubbing the space between his balls and ass so his prostate is trapped on both ends.

"Shite-" Simon's hips twitch up, beads of precum painting your tongue as his legs spread open more. "-you wanker." His insult is light, head rolling back as he grounds his hips down in an attempt to chase after that spine numbing pleasure your fingers bring.

Pulling back enough to murmur "Love you too." against his tip you take him into your mouth again. You can't measure how good it feels to say those words honestly instead of sarcastically, your own arousal forgotten as you work him open on your fingers, the constant pressure on his prostate making a small stream of precum bead down your throat.

Simon floats in heaven for, he doesn't know how long, the pleasure making his brain melt through his dick, unable to stop the soft sounds escaping his throat. He cracks an eye open when the tightness in his stomach becomes apparent, barely able to stave off his orgasm when he sees his cock throbbing between your lips.

Your name comes out slurred as he tugs on your hair, "Need you. Now." A little bit of his usual demanding nature comes out, but even then it's born out of desperation to feel you rather than the need to be in control.

You let him pull you off his cock, placing gentle kisses on his thick thighs as you pull your fingers out of his stretched hole. "You have me."

You go to grab a condom but he stops you, too aroused to be embarrassed by his eagerness. "You don't- my physical, I'm clean. If you want, I mean-"

You furrow your brows, your chest tight with how big your heart feels. You could never hide how sick you'd feel at the thought of Simon being intimate with someone else, even when you'd never agreed to be exclusive. "We did physicals nearly three months ago, you haven't. . .?"

He shakes his head, "No," Suddenly he tenses up, his jaw tight like he's expecting bad news. "Have you?" His tone isn't judgmental, but you can hear the edge of hurt.

"No. No. No!" Quick to dispel his thoughts you lean over to kiss him like he's a bout of fresh air and you've been drowning for years. It's not too far from the truth. "You're the only one I've ever. . .done that with." You murmur against his lips, earning yourself another kiss as he pulls down by a hand on the back of your neck.

"Good." Simon tuts, proud, hiking one leg around your waist to pull you closer, your cocks rubbing together. "Fuck me already." He grumbles, his strong arms wrapped around your neck.

"Right, yeah." Despite how many times you've done this suddenly you feel like a fucking virgin, your hands trembling slightly as you lube up your cock. You press the tip against his slick hole, forcing you to bite your lip as you start to push your hips. "Just relax, yeah?"

"Yeah." Simon breathes out, feeling pressure of your cockhead against his hole. You both groan when your cockhead pops inside him, your lips on his making him forget about the lingering sting. "Shite, so good for me." Simon hums, looking at you with hooded eyes. Usually he relishes the sting and burn sex with you brings, but he's so loose and lubed the pain is barely a prickle at the back of his skull and he finds himself getting addicted to the unfiltered pressure and weight of your cock inside him.

"Simon," You say, clenching your teeth as you try to keep still so he can get used to you, holding his hips for dear life. "Can I- please I need."

"Focking move it," He nods his head, his head rolling back from the sensation of you moving inside him, your cock brushing against his walls as you push inside him inch by inch until you're fully inside him.

Your nerves a live wire from how tight and hot his hole is, forcing you to rest your head on the pillow next to his as you try to gather your self-control; you'll be damned if you cum before him.

"I'm good." Simon tugs on your scalp, your lips meeting in a lopsided kiss. You pull away to rest your forehead against his, his eyes blown wide and hooded, something about this position so intimate it melts your heart. "Hurry up, 'm not going to last long." He confesses, his walls clenching down on your length.

Words escape you so you just nod your head, slowly pulling your hips back before pushing back in, Simon meeting you half way so your cock can lay consistent pressure on his prostate. You two move like one, your senses full of sex and heat, your ears ringing with Simon's low moans and groans. Moving your hand down you stroke him in time with your thrusts, earning yourself even more moans. Usually Simon's so quiet in bed, but now he lets it all out so freely, low growls and huffs and small 'ah, ah, ah's breathed into your ear with every small movement of your hips.

Your pace picks up as your orgasm approaches, your cock bashing against his prostate with all the subtlety of a tank. "Shite-" Simon throws his head back to moan, leaving his throat open for your teeth to lay even more hickeys. "-I, fuck, yeah, that's the spot- just- I need-" His voice turns higher pitched and needy, his body moving with the force of your thrusts, powerful arms pulling you even closer so his teeth can clamp down on your shoulder.

Simon cums with a shout that's muffled into the meat of your shoulder, whole body shaking like a leaf in the wind as he paints both of your stomach's white with his cum, his hole clenching down and pulling you along with him. You cum inside him and moan, collapsing on top of him, completely exhausted.

The silence of the bedroom is broken up by your haggard breathing, both of your bodies sweaty and hot. You tilt your head just enough to catch the way Simon looks at you, like a content cat that knows he's safe, and shit if that doesn't melt your heart, nothing will.

"God, that was something else." You say to break the silence, trying to pull out when you feel yourself soften but your attempts are stopped quickly, Simon grumbling something under his breath as he hugs you closer. "What?" You ask.

He throws a light glare your way, but his eyelids droop with exhaustion. "Don't." He says, relaxing when you stop what you're doing. "Want to feel you." He says; it's the most intelligent thing his mind can conjure up right now.

A gentle smile tugs on your lips. "Right." You lean down to share another kiss with him, this one sweet and slow, his tongue gently liking your lips as a way to ask for entrance— why rush when you've got all the time in the world?

The exhaustion weighing on your bones and Simon saccharine kisses lull you to sleep soon enough, your body like a weighted blanket on top of him. "Love you," You mumble just before your eyes close.

Simon fights against his own fatigue for a few more minutes, relishing the feeling of being connected in such a primal way, with you in him and around him. He takes in your sleeping face with blurry eyes.

Yeah. Love. That fits.

[soapcloth]

Fantasy au -> Warrior!Soap x Healer!Reader

CW: 18+ MDNI, light bloodplay, noncon undertones, dacryphilia if you squint

not edited - 800 words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

You’ve had just about enough of that axe-swinging asshole, built like an ox and thrice as stubborn.

You’re absolutely beside yourself asking why you’re sticking it out in his half-baked party. John, as he had practically breathed the name down your neck, couldn’t keep a decent healer and now you know all too well why. He was mean, smelly, loud, and worst of all- overly familiar despite your best efforts to stamp out any flame of acquaintanceship. You could write ballads dedicated to reasons you should leave this party, but truth be told? You were down on your luck. You wondered sometimes if you were cursed with misfortune, a hilariously horrid timeline of events leading you to this very position right now. So you’ve made a few mistakes, hasn’t everyone in the pursuit of dungeon crawling?

Even so, was the state of your freelance healing career really so bad that you had to saddle up with someone like John MacTavish? The man had been naught more than a trail thief brute-forcing his way into other parties’ treasure a few years ago, but because of a few lucky encounters in monster slaying, suddenly he was picking up jobs in adventurer hubs like it was something he was born to do. It pissed you off to no end and he knew it. Loved seeing your indignant scowl while you healed him up knowing better work was near impossible for you to come by.

“Och- that’s it, ‘m sore there.” He’d groaned, humid breath fanning your skin, god, why was he always so close? “Gonna show me that pretty glow, lamb?”

“No.” You bit, rubbing the salve a touch deeper than needed. Your lips twitched seeing his eyebrows draw tight. “It’s not so bad that you need healing, stop being a baby.”

The man snorted in response. “That’s why no other parties’ll take ye on, lamb.” His deep blue eyes searched your own, a wild smirk twisting across his mouth. “Terrible bedside manner.” You flushed slightly, shooting him a sharp glare that caused him to lean back on his makeshift fallen and rotted log seat with a pleased grin as he inspected his wound. Like the ever-expressive man he was, his face suddenly took on a shade of concern. “Ach-!”

“Huh?” Was all you could muster, confused as to what he could be so worried about.

“Think I got nicked by something venomous, lamb, need yer healing.” He seethed out. “Oh for- let me see.” You sighed, grabbing his uselessly huge hand. As expected, his palm was fine, albeit still a bit bloody as the salve worked to stop it.

Wrong move.

Upon inspecting his wound, the adventurer managed to shove his palm into your face with a vicious grin, huffing through his nose a bit as he smeared blood across your mouth. Sputtering only invited the acrid taste of bitter salve, sweat, and copper onto your tastebuds as he laughed and continued to wipe his hand across your face. “See?” He chuckled “M’still hurt.” His eyes seemed to glisten like the northern stormy coast seeing his own blood on your skin. “Suits you.”

You pushed his hand away, misinterpreting his words in a way that scratched at a sore spot of your own. “I didn’t kill them, John! Stop holding that over my head!” You snarled, causing his eyes to widen a fraction. You wiped his blood off your face with your arm, only to smear it around more and get it on the limb. Great. It was then you realized you had a runny nose as well, were you starting to cry? “I fucked up- but my god, they lived, okay?” And now you couldn’t get a gig better than this one because of that fact, a voice in the back of your head snarked. It’s true too, they made sure no party worth its salt would ever take you on. You still have no idea why John did either in all honesty, for all his faults and the high turnover rate, he had a seemingly bottomless fount of healers willing to take a shot at being the one to stick.

John cupped your cheeks. “None of tha’.” He spoke lowly. One of his calloused thumbs swiped at an emerging tear before it could fall and you had to watch, mouth slightly agape as he brought the pad of his thumb to his lips without much thought, tongue darting out to taste. You blinked as he clapped that hand down on your shoulder, leaning closer. “None of tha’…” he repeated, quieter this time. He looked so focused. “Dinnae give a shit about those no-names, lamb, neither should you.”

You swallowed audibly when met with his intensity, his voice a rolling growl. “Fuck- seeing ye all covered in my blood’s got me stiffer than a rock. Palm’s busted and you won’t heal me. Cannae do a thing about it, feel like ah’m gonna-“

“I can heal your hand.” You urged, the oppressive haze he left you with suddenly lifting.

He snorted in response. “Though so, lamb.” His palm connected with your hair, ruffling his blood into your locks before moving down to pat your cheek. “What a dutiful healer ye’ are… So good te’ me. Let me see tha’ gorgeous glow.”

[sosa2imagines]

Broken Hearts. Part 8

Warnings- Fluff, good time with friends, little smut.

As you stepped through the doors of the fortress, your senses were immediately assaulted by the tantalizing aroma of pizzas.

The scent filled the air, and your stomach grumbled in response to the mouth-watering fragrance. Nick and Andy, standing near the dining table, chuckled.

“Finally! We were starting to think you two got lost.” Nick teased, an amused smile on his face.

Andy chimed in, his voice filled with a hint of pride. “This was all Lloyd's idea.” he revealed, gesturing towards the pizzas and decorations laid out. You looked over at Lloyd, noticing the satisfied glint in his eyes. It dawned on you that his insistence on the spa trip had been a clever cover-up for preparing this surprise party.

A warm wave of gratitude and affection washed over you, touched by the thoughtfulness behind Lloyd's actions.

You smiled at him, silently expressing your thanks for his efforts. Lloyd returned your smile, his eyes filled with a mixture of affection and relief that the surprise had been a success.

Nick couldn't help but give Lloyd a playful jab, a smirk on his face. “We did all the hard work...” he said, shooting a sidelong glance at Lloyd.

Lloyd immediately retorted, feigning offense. “Hey, I helped too!” he protested, a mock pout on his face.

“Sure, if barking orders is called helping, then sure you did help.” Andy smirks.

You kiss both Andy's and Nick's cheeks “Thanks you guys, this is amazing, best party ever!” “Let's get started!!!” Lloyd jumps in.

As the hour passed, the banter continued, and the alcohol started to take its toll on Nick and Andy. Nick slowly started to slur his words, stumbling a bit, while Andy let out loud laughs at everything and anything. Unlike you and Lloyd, you two were perfectly sober.

That’s when you realize your drinks are non-alcoholic, Lloyd just gave you a cheeky smile, with mischievous glint in his eyes.

As Nick and Andy's intoxication became more obvious, you and Lloyd stepped in to help.

You assisted Lloyd in guiding the two stumbling men to their rooms, trying your best to keep them upright. “Come on, guys, time for bed.” Lloyd said firmly, his arm wrapped around Andy's shoulders as he helped him towards his room. You did the same with Nick, attempting to keep him from tripping over his own feet.

As you finished settling Nick and Andy in their rooms, Lloyd discreetly took your hand, gently linking your fingers together.

He led you to the terrace, a soft smile on his face.

As you stepped out onto the terrace, you were greeted by a breath-taking sight.

The expansive space was transformed into a magical haven, adorned with twinkling fairy lights, a comfortable couch bed, and an array of snacks and a bottle of wine.

“Lloyd?” “Welcome to our date” “Date? you never asked…” “I don't ask remember?” “I do and I'm glad, Lloyd this is so beautiful!!!” 

You were filled with awe, taking in the enchanting ambiance that Lloyd had carefully prepared.

He led you to the inviting couch bed, motioning for you to sit. As you settled into the comfortable cushions, you looked up at the night sky, dotted with stars. It was serene and intimate, the perfect setting for a romantic moment.

Lloyd handed you a glass of wine, his gaze lingering on yours. “I'm really glad to have you here.” he murmured, his voice husky and filled with genuine affection.

He reached out then, gently brushing his knuckles against your cheek, a gesture both tender and intimate. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into it, savoring the moment. “This view... this moment... it's all the more beautiful with you next to me.”

As Lloyd's lips gently pressed against yours, a wave of euphoria washed over you, enveloping you in an absolute state of bliss. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting to hold onto this moment as if it were a precious treasure.

The world around you faded into the background as you lost yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his kiss. “I’m glad too.”

Lloyd chuckled, breaking the kiss for a moment. He leaned back a little, his eyes glinting with humor. “You know...” he said, his voice filled with a hint of amusement, “I've been planning this date with you since my first jerk off.” He smirked at his own comment, clearly enjoying your reaction. You couldn't help but burst into laughter, the unexpected remark catching you off guard.

“Liar!” you say, shoving him in playfully, “you were in love with Madison, you said and I quote ‘She smells like coconuts.’”

Lloyd laughed heartily, “Hey, hey,” he protested, still chuckling. “I was young and foolish back then. And hey, she did smell like coconuts!” He feigned defensiveness, attempting to justify his past crush on Madison.

You squeak in surprise, as he leans over and pulls you to sit between his legs, his back leaned against the bed couch. Your back leaned against him. He pulls the blanket up over your legs. “I've always liked the way you smelled though.” he whispers against your ear and the tone of his voice showers your skin in goosebumps. “Like what?” you ask quietly.

Lloyd's lips curled into a soft smile as he inhaled your scent once more, his breath warm against your skin. “Like vanilla and fresh laundry,” he replied, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and sincerity. “It's this soothing and intoxicating combination that I can never quite get enough of.” He buried his face into your hair again, nuzzling it gently.

As his hands remained on your waist, nestled underneath the cozy blanket, you could feel his fingers gently squeezing and caressing your skin through the fabric of your clothing. The sensation was soothing and comforting, his grip firm yet affectionate, silently communicating his desire to be closer to you.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you rested back against Lloyd, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you.

“You know...” you began, the words flowing out of you softly, “I had a secret crush on you since school.” You paused, a nostalgic smile playing on your lips. “But I never said anything, because I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship.”

Lloyd's arms tightened around you, his grip becoming a little more possessive at your confession. “You did, huh?” he replied, his voice holding a hint of surprise and amusement. “And here I was, oblivious as ever.” He chuckled again, his fingers tracing circles on your skin. “You could've saved me a lot of heartache if you had told me back then, Sugar.”

You laughed softly, feeling the heat of his breath on your neck. “Well, I always thought you were too busy chasing the popular girls anyway,” you teased, grinning at the memory. “You wouldn't have given me a second glance.”

Lloyd's chest vibrated with a deep, hearty laugh, the sound sending vibrations through your body. “Is that what you think?” he asked, a smirk evident in his voice. “You didn't give me enough credit.” His fingers gently traced up and down your waist, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake. “I definitely would've given you more than a second glance.”

You shivered slightly as you felt his hand slip under your shirt, caressing the bare skin of your waist. His fingers traced feather-like patterns on your skin, igniting a trail of fire in their wake. The sensation of his touch was both soothing and exhilarating, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

While his free hand, continued its exploration, migrating to the waistband of your jeans. He teased the button with his fingertips, gently toying with it.

You hesitated for a moment, gathering your courage before speaking. “You know,” you began, your voice soft, “that night after we kissed, I had the most vivid dream about us.” Your cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink as you continued, the memory still fresh in your mind. “It was so real, like I could feel every touch, every sensation...”

You bite your lip, your breath tripping and coming to a halt, as his left hand is pushing so slowly inside your underwear, his right hand cupping your exposed breast and you are glad for not wearing a bra that day!

Lloyd leaned closer, his lips gently brushing against your ear, causing your heartbeat to quicken.

He took your earlobe between his teeth, softly biting it, before whispering in a low, sultry voice. “Sometimes,” he murmured huskily, his voice low and seductive, “I fantasize about you too.” He nibbled on your earlobe again, his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

He trailed kisses down your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire along your sensitive skin. “I imagine running my hands all over your body,” he continued, his voice thick with desire. “Claiming you as mine...”

You could feel his breath, ragged and uneven, against your skin as he continued to nibble on your earlobe. “The things I want to do to you...” he murmured, his voice rough with need. His fingers traced the contours of your collarbone, the touch light yet possessive, before going back under your shirt, caressing your breast.”

His thumb easy glides over your clit, “how good I bet you'd take me.”

His touch was both gentle and insistent, as if he wanted to claim every inch of you. He moved slowly, his fingers exploring your cunt, causing you to arch your back in response. His touch was like fire against your skin, igniting a blaze of sensation that spread throughout your body.

You circle your hips and feel his cock growing rock hard. You moan breathily as his finger makes a slow circle over you.

He groans, his fingers, already so slick with your wetness, move in deeper. Working three fingers inside of you, the stretch he provides to soothe the ache inside your pussy, makes you so delirious.

The wet pump of his fingers in and out of your cunt, his thumb over your clit, has turned your brain into a mess.

At the beginning he was fingering you to explore you, but now with the confessions out in the open, he has found a purpose. His mouth hot against your neck, one hand cupped around your breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and finger a perfect combination of pleasure and pain.

“I like you, always had, maybe more than like you…” he finally confesses. Lloyd pushes his fingers in roughly, to emphasize his confession and you bite your lip to stifle the moan, threatening to escape.

Abruptly he pulls out his fingers and brings his hand up to his mouth. The depth of his groan, makes you shiver, as he devours your taste.

He removes his right hand from underneath your shirt, but his left goes back to your clit, working over you, all over again. “I know I call you Sugar” he says forehead resting against your shoulder “You taste more sweet than sugar itself.”

He pushes you forward slightly, as he works on his own hardness. The new and steady rhythm of Lloyd's hand working up and down over his length is fast and rough almost desperate.

He's so desperately focused, now that he's touched and tasted you, he couldn't resist the urge to come, even if his life depended on it.

You feel his knuckles as they move, the brush of the plump head of his dick, covered in slippery precum. Secondly, you'll never know whether it's from the way your breathing has changed or if it's the fact that you can't sit still anymore, you're biting your lip to keep from moaning loudly.

Lloyd knows you're close, the same way that you know he is too. “I want to touch you…please” you beg and whine. Each move of his fingers pushes you closer to the edge. “Soon,” he promises, breathing harder, as both of you are so close.

“Come for me, Sugar…” he pants and who are you to deny him? You moan his name, trying and failing to contain the sounds of intense pleasure, that are pushing their way out of your throat. It's strong enough to steal your vision, to pull you under into an abyss of endless pleasure.

He doesn't care about the aftershocks he causes, as he pushes his thick fingers, as deep as he can inside you. And there's no use trying to mask the strangled sob that escapes, your whole body shaking like you've been trying to hold for too long.

“You're...ah fuck, I’m gonna come.” he growls, making sure to keep his fingers buried inside you.

You feel his cum shoot hot against your spine, it's enough to make you nearly blackout. He grinds his dick against your back, pumping cum out of his cock against your skin with each thrust. He works himself through his orgasm, making him hiss with delight.

It was the most incredible feeling you had ever experienced. Lloyd's touch was like electricity, igniting every nerve in your body and bringing you to the brink of ecstasy.

You were lost in the sensations, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch. It was the most glorious, dizzying moment of your life.

After catching his breath, Lloyd leans back a little, and pulls his shirt off, using it to clean you up, before tossing it aside on the floor.

He tilts your face back, to look at him and you can just barely make out his expression from the glow of the lights he doesn't say anything, instead he just looks at you, making sure that you're ok. You move your head slightly, admiring the fairy lights bouncing across his vulnerable face.

Part 7- Part 9

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan @emerald-writes

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@whore-for-chris-evans @caplanreblogsfics

@pono-pura-vida @iwudbutnah @renegadesgirl1991

[skyeslittlecorner]

The little kings scenarios you have are the best! Here's a cute idea: you know how kids think you're the best when you do things they couldn't do? How about a scenario where they think you're the absolute coolest after rescuing them from...idk, something 😅 Like it's hard to imagine them being in grave trouble (maybe except for levi my poor bby) but for the sake of this ask, the little kings ran into trouble and the mc, in all their human capacity, saved them in the nick of time.

These little guys are a thousand times more powerful than their own subjects, let alone humans. Time to give them a problem they can't solve by force (or at least they shouldn't). It's good that in the eyes of children the smallest problems can be the weight of a collapsing world, and it's good that we are here to save them.

A small spoiler for ch5 in Mammon's part.

Satan will do anything to avoid going to the dentist, even as an adult, let alone as a child. But if you go with him, maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe. It's not even about the pain, he just doesn't like it when someone picks at his mouth. It's true that you won't find a magical solution, but you can hold his little hand. And let him squeeze you when he hurts. Also, you can buy him a dog chew. Either way, you will be his most favorite human in all worlds.

Mammon, as a child, had a big problem with too much power in too small a body. When he appeared at the door of your room at night, barely holding back his tears, you didn't think twice and just lifted the covers. He climbs onto the bed with you, and you feel how stiff he is. Help him massage his cramped muscles. The pain will soon pass, and he will hug you like the greatest treasure in the world.

Beelzebub is the easiest one, you just save him from Bael lmao. Not that he's hurting him, but he won't let him sneak out to Paradise Lost, and Beel has such a terrible urge! Take this little king on a trip to Gehenna and you will be a hero. Plus, you'll kill two birds with one stone, because little Satan won't be bored either. In fact, you can try to collect them all like Pokémon and feel like a full-fledged royal nanny. 

Leviathan looks like he's even afraid of his own shadow. At first, he doesn't even trust you, but the more time you spend with him, the better he feels. His comfort zone will become the zone around you. Barbatos thinks he's constantly levitating somewhere close to you, like a planet around the sun. There is no threat in his palace, but in Levi’s eyes, nothing will threaten him only thanks to your presence.

[quiet-desperationn]

okay i finished reading my fourth pink floyd book and i want to share my thoughts on them:

Inside Out by Nick Mason: first one i read, so i didn't know much of the band’s lore or the side characters, will probably reread it in the near future. Nick is funny and he was definitely the best one and the only that could write a book about themselves. He gives a lot of details on how things were recorded, but kind of just glazes over other stuff I wanted more details on. And he makes fun of Roger and I love him for that.

Pigs Might Fly by Mark Blake: i think most people consider this the best one and it is very complete, specially up until dark side, for wywh and animals i needed more. It is very up to date as well, I think the last edition is from 2017 and has extra stuff. Really liked when he would start the chapter with some more recent pink floyd happening and use it to segue back into their history. He also tells Syd story after pf in parallel with the band’s , giving Syd updates at the start of almost every chapter, I liked this approach.

The Making of Pink Floyd The Wall by Gerald Scarfe: i got a great deal on a used copy of this and i absolutely adore it. His art suits Pink Floyd so well and I’ve become obsessed with him while reading this. Really interesting insights on some of the creative processes and the band’s personalities. Probably one of my most treasured pf items.

A Saucerful of Secrets by Nicholas Schaffner: this one was written in the late 80s and early 90s so it is very interesting view of the band up to that point. He didn’t follow the same linear approach as Mark Blake and it kind of bothered me a bit, i.e. he finished all of Syd story before getting to the post Syd floyd. Some new stuff I learned was that peter jenner really hates roger lol and that roger and judy were trying to have a child but it wasn’t happening.

next one will probably be ginger gilmour one

if you know a good one that is not impossible to find (rip in the pink) please let me know :)

[kugelblitzzed]

my small ramble about HABIT as a character :

warnings : spoilers! content warning for csa, sa, nazism, etc. HABIT is not a good person, bear this is mind.

obviously, I don't support HABIT as a person. for those unaware, he's mentioned multiple times to have been an SS soldier, a raper, obviously a serial murderer, etc. he is NOT a good person.

however, his character has got to be one of my most favorite written in existence.

because we know absolutely nothing about him.

and he knows that.

he reveals just enough information about himself to the audience for us to get comfortable enough to think we can predict him, and then proceeds to go in the exact opposite direction. he is the joker, the wild card, after all.

one prime example of this. I watch a lot of emh fan content so I've seen a bunch of these YouTube compilations of "HABIT acting like a human for _ minutes" or "HABIT acting animalistic" and so forth.

we have absolutely no fucking idea what HABIT is. obviously, he is a representation of pure evil, presumably human. he is human in nature, though obviously deranged. yet he is so evil that he becomes a feral kind of animalistic insane. he growls, bites, runs on all fours. whilst obviously taking a human form, we still don't know just exactly what his is.

this next small section (adding on to the former) is a bit of a ramble. I have not finished the series, I'm watching it in real time. this is moreso speculation, so forgive me for any incorrect guesses.

HABIT is obviously the sender of the treasure chest containing the everyman play. you know the one, with extra characters and annotations added in. HABIT adds in firebrand, the guardian and the voyeur. yet, as far as I'm guessing, he isn't any of these characters, and obviously he cannot be one of the characters already in the play (unless he's death himself.)

he knows. he controls the strings everytime. he writes in the characters, he writes in what they will do and how they will act and interact with one another. he's akin to a god. so much so, that he doesn't even take a form in the great play of life. did he insert himself, force his way in?

we have no idea.

additionally, we don't know what his capabilities as an entity are. the point established is that HABIT is trying to find the perfect vessel with little regard to the body he's hurting in the process.

yet, the way he's presented, you'd think he does it spontaneously. you'd think he jumps between bodies whenever he pleases, and if it isn't immediately to his liking he just inflicts some kind of life-threatening damage and leaves. again, we know this not to be the case.

for those unaware, Nick is possessed by HABIT. in the CANYOUSEETHEWORDS blog, once HABIT takes over, he begins to insert diary extracts and exerts from his victims. maybe to mock them, or maybe he has some higher plan.

in one of these, we see Nick. if you hadn't seen the extract, one would've assumed HABIT just stole his body temporarily since the only time we actually see Nick get possessed is when he's choking out Evan, before HABIT kills the guy himself (through Evan's body.) yet, in the entry, Nick expresses that HABIT literally is a higher being.

Nick discovers he was a product of rape. and the perpetrator? HABIT.

HABIT had to have actively had some knowledge of every single event in the timeline just to know "the child of this woman is going to be my vessel." but, if he has such time warping knowledge, why doesn't he just look through time and find the best one?

we don't know either. maybe he hunts for the fun of it.

thanks for reading my small ramble about how well written HABIT is.

[yandere-wishes]

Yandere! Darth Maul Headcanons (Ft. Darth Talon)

Author Note: I'm so sorry this is definitely not my best work😭😭 I just really needed to get this out of my head. Inspired by this video

Warnings: Spicy but absolutely no smut, odd take on poly relationships, Talon and reader have a sisterly bond...sorta.

Thinking about being Maul's little darling. His sweet little princess. But also being Darth Talon's co-darling. The innocent little doll ensnared between two big scary Sith lords. 

Maul constantly has the two of you seated pretty on his lap. As he lounges on the throne of Mandalore. Talon is always embellished in tight black fabrics that do little to cover her impressive physic. She knows they're to Maul's delight. Always so eager to indulge her master. 

Yet when it comes to you Maul insists you wear long ravishing velvet dresses. Adorned with delicate jewels to augment your beauty. It makes you feel fragile, like a porcelain doll fabricated simply for his pleasure. Still, you dare not protest. 

You and Talon trail kisses down Maul's chest. Occasionally biting his lips, begging for a kiss. You feel his emotions in crashing waves, not love, not reverence. Rather something more akin to pride. An all-consuming darkness that floods the soul, overwhelming every other emotion. Maybe it's the closest to an "affectionate" sentiment that Maul can express. 

Maul uses both the force and his fingers to trace the contours of your bodies. Memorizing each dip and curve. Ever so intimately familiar with each scar. You both shiver as he runs his claws up and down your spins. Perfectly dividing his attention across the both of you.

You've come to cherish the feeling of his horns when they nick at the skin of your neck. constantly mesmerized by the small puncture holes that litter your throat amongst a plethora of love bites. 

Talon's older, more experienced. She's like an older sister constantly looking out for you. She's eager to show you how to please Maul. Reminding you of where he likes to be bitten, where he likes to be kissed. He demands submission but loves when you put up a fight. 

You've started to treasure her presence, enjoying having someone who understands almost every fiber of your life. It's almost like having a sister and an anam cara. You love the way her hand fits so perfectly in yours, fingers entangled much like your souls.

She's the one who told you about Maul's insecurities. About how his robotic legs play testament to failures he refuses to relinquish. 

That night you make a show of kissing stars into his cyberntics. tracing your fingers over the prosthetics as you sing his praises. Talon follows your lead, impressed with your acumen. Delighted in how you turn her master's sorrow into a source of his pleasure. 

Maul seldom says he' loves you'. In hindsight, that night may have been the first time you've heard such words escape his perfect lips. 

Maul loves to inflict pain on both of you claiming you in the way of deep cuts and bruises. Your blood between his teeth and your pulse in his palm.

You always leave weak kisses on Maul's arm when he chokes you. Your devotion soothes his rage. Yet he's never given up an opportunity to throw you around like a rag doll. 

You're the only one ever permitted to watch Maul give Talon her sith tattoos. It's a hallowed rite, a secret shared between master and apprentice. Yet they both adore you so much, wanting to incorporate you into their rituals. 

Both Maul and Talon refuse to train you. Neither in the way of the Sith nor in the art of lightsaber. Both master and apprentice fear the harsh ways of the Sith would simply break a fragile doll like you beyond repair. 

Sometimes Maul gets busy, too caught up in ruling Mand'alor, too preoccupied to even remember he has two lovers awaiting him. 

You start to lose your mind on such days, having long since lost your identity. You merely exist to serve him, only ever alive in the presence of your lord. It's hard to know what to do when his ethos is faded, too far for you to reach. When he isn't an inch away from you. Leaving shallow kisses along your skin.

Talon tries to comfort you, her mind may be tattered yet she still regains some sense of self-worth. She hugs you close, rubbing soothing circles on your back. She tells you tales of when she was a child before her apprenticeship began. 

Sometimes she recounts stories of when Maul had been merely a boy, a small child still too scrawny to wield a lightsaber. The tales seem fictitious, bordering on sacrilege. You shudder to think of Maul as anything less than immaculate, anything less than eternal.

Eventually, the two of you just barge into the throne room. Ignoring the officials or higher-ranking aristocrats may be present. You simply curl up in Maul's lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

"Want you, want you" you whine desperately, loud enough for only his ears to hear. You're utterly anguished for comfort, for affection, for him. Talon rubs your shoulder, eyes looking at Maul in yearning. 

Maul rolls his eyes, deducing it best to scold the two of you in private. He simply pats your head and embraces you closer to his chest. Leaving a chaste kiss on your knuckles. 

In the end, the two of you are his and only his. His two precious darlings. There's nothing in this universe Maul wouldn't do for the two of you. 

[artist-issues]

What are the best stories you've seen that have a theme of forgiveness? If not strictly about forgiveness, then any themes along the lines of retribution, redemption arcs, or even "seeing through another's eyes" (I may or may not have rewatched Brother Bear recently lol)

Well, we’ve got all my old standbys. Cinderella, of course, is a story that really has forgiveness in it, because Cinderella wholeheartedly forgives her stepfamily for mistreating her. (Actually, she might be “forbearance,” not forgiveness.) But they’re completely off her hook. I think there’s a really great moment of forgiveness between Nick and Judy in Zootopia that gets overlooked. Frozen, with Anna and Elsa. Brother Bear is a really great example, truly! I love that movie.

I think some of my other favorites include the original A Star is Born, or even the Judy Garland remake. (Those also might be more “forbearance.”) I think one of the best examples I ever saw of forgiveness was in Avatar: the Last Airbender, which everybody knows:

And of course, ‘Til We Have Faces and The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis have some of the best-distilled forgiveness moments in any stories, ever. There are sweet ones in The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald, too, though they’re not as dramatic. In Anne’s House of Dreams, by L.M. Montgomery, Anne’s repeated forgiveness of Leslie’s coldheartedness or rudeness is a really simple but awesome example of day-to-day forgiveness.

I don’t easily think of a lot of good examples of it in stories. Brother Bear definitely has it, because without it, the story doesn’t work—Sitka wouldn’t help Kenai to learn from his wrongs, Kenai would’ve been killed by Denahi, Koda would’ve been left alone—but I don’t think forgiveness is the main focus of the movie. I think it’s a load-bearing component, but not the focus.

You’re making me want to see a movie that really homes in on that!

The thing is, I guess, for forgiveness to be the focus of a movie, there has to be a character that 100% definitely does the complete wrong, inexcusable thing to another character. Something that he deserves to be on the hook for. Then he has to acknowledge that he did the wrong thing and want forgiveness. And then the other character, the one who was wronged, has to willingly acknowledge that wrong and then let the offender off the hook. It’s not just “we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.” It’s both parties acknowledging that wrong was done, and having an exchange that ends in reconciliation. It’s got grace and mercy wrapped up in it.

Not many movies have true moments like this. Usually, one character is super sorry and the other character just seems to brush off whatever they did with like, a callback to an inside joke or something. (I’m thinking if Treasure Planet, to be honest.) Or, the situation necessitates that they put their conflict aside and work together, and then after the day is saved they sort of “get over” all that and swagger off into the sunset together.

As far as “redemption” goes—gee, all the old standbys! All the ones I mentioned above, plus Star Wars, plus East of Eden (the movie, not the book) plus, of course, my all-time favorite movie, Lilo & Stitch.

In Lilo & Stitch, you have the ugly little creature who belongs absolutely nowhere, is by definition a blight on nature and an abomination of existence, who was actively created to ruin everything. And he does it, and he takes delight in it. But there’s this little girl who gets pushed down, gets her doll chewed on, gets rejected when she’s most in need of his companionship—and she just keeps on loving him anyway. Because she’s chosen to, not because he did anything to deserve it. And then that infects him. That idea of family—of someone choosing to love you, no matter how ugly you are inside and out, and by choosing to love you, they create a place where you belong. No matter what. And that changes him. A germ from outside of him changes him from a literal world-destroying, home-shattering selfish monster into something new, something adopted, something loved.

I’d call it a story about committed love and grace, not necessarily redemption—because the focus of the story isn’t really “Stitch does something wrong but then through a process of pain and transformative struggle, redeems that wrong.” That’s not the focus of the story. But it’s still “bad character becomes good.” And I can’t help but talk about Lilo & Stitch once you get me started on it, sorry!

I think the best redemption stories are some of the ones I’ve listed above, plus East of Eden, Beauty & the Beast, and really, truly Sydney Carton from Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities.

And I think Kylo Ren was well on his way to being one of the best redemption stories of all time, if TROS hadn’t fumbled the ending so clumsily—but that’s another post for another time! I don’t know if this satisfactorily answered your question, but it was fun to ramble about and I’ll tag you if I make another post as more come to mind.

[thenukacolachallenge]

some fun facts about Luis and André Peña(his VA)

(from the Nick Apostolides(Leon Kennedy VA) livestreams, because i think Luis is neato and i liked André's performance, especially for a first-time big VA gig!)

UPDATE: NOW WITH TIMESTAMPS bc someone on the part two of this post asked about them lmfao

-André actually auditioned for the Spanish cops that escort Leon to Valdelobos originally, and went through several more auditions before landing the role of Luis Serra. for his first role on a big project like Resident Evil, that's incredibly impressive! (timestamp)

-Both Nick and André did motion capture for multiple enemies, including André calling his "best role" playing a dead body lmao. He and Nick also did mocap for the Verdugos, Salazar's bodyguards! (timestamp)

-Being that it was such a big role, he was very anxious about the game dropping, from the moment he got cast to the day it dropped. He even apparently asked Nick constantly if he had somehow been recast. (poor dude, as someone with anxiety issues and huge imposter syndrome, i feel for him!!!) Nick gives him a very sweet but stern pep talk about how he earned and deserved his role on stream too, it was a cute moment! (timestamp 1: André first mentioning his nerves) (timestamp 2: second mention of anxiety/Nick's pep talk to André)

-André is a big enough fan of the original to remember where all the treasure used to be! i love when people who are fans of a series get to work on it, dude. in addition, he was also very happy with the direction he was given, and felt that he was allowed to explore Luis as a more fleshed out character. (which he absolutely is, and i love it! Luis in the original was so strange and honestly off-putting imo. fucking ballistics lmao) (timestamp 1: first mention of André knowing a lot about RE4) (timestamp 2: more of André knowing the game) (timestamp 3: MORE of André knowing the game lmao) (there are a lot more than just these. dude is a FAN) (timestamp 4: André talking about direction and Luis)

-He refers to the bag Luis is stuffed into as a "Luis burrito", which is hilarious and adorable. (timestamp)

-(Also, not related to Luis, but Nick yells "YEET" when Leon gets tossed into the wall by Mendez, which is fucking hysterical) (timestamp)

-UPDATE: thank you to tumblr user @hamartia-grander for this detail that i completely missed originally! (timestamp)

(transcript: I hope this okay for me to add, but he also said that in the first scene with Leon and Luis, Luis looks away as Mendéz injects Leon with la plaga because he couldn't watch another person be infected by something horrible he had a hand in creating. Which is easy to infer from that scene, but it was nice that it was a conscious decision on André's part, rather than aimless direction.)

-the first scene André and Nick filmed together was Luis and Leon chained up together! and the first line of Luis's that got revealed was when he said to Leon, "I guess you, me... picked the wrong spot to vacation, eh?" Apparently the mocap for this scene was also very awkward for André, which is totally understandable, considering Luis spends 90% of it getting jerked around by Leon or trying to dodge a Ganado without the use of his hands lol. (timestamp)

-André worked very hard to make sure that Luis's accent was as accurate to Spain's Spanish as it could be, which is awesome, especially for someone who doesn't naturally speak that particular dialect. GOOD ACTING, BABEY (timestamp)

-André owns a legitimate Red 9 gun, the weapon that Luis uses in the game. this is a unique gun bc it was manufactured during the first World War, and it's VERY expensive(they can go up to $10k, but André apparently got his for a great deal!). he also has MADE a copy of the RE4 tactical knife Leon uses, and there's a video up on his youtube channel! (timestamp)

-(not related to Luis, but André also mentioned he has adhd! same buddy!!!) (timestamp)

-OKAY NEW STREAM TIME! This begins part four of Nick's playthrough, and André is a guest once more. All the previous facts are from part one, which is the first one André guested on. According to Nick, André learned how to flip a lighter around his fingers just for Luis, which is awesome. (and he shows off by doing so in stream!!!) (timestamp)

-Ashley's VA, Genevieve Buechner, got asked about her reaction to Luis' infamous "ballistics" line and both her and André aren't sad to see it missing from the remake. André himself makes a comment about how this version of Luis is still flirty without coming across as "creepy" about it. (i find the ballistics line from the original annoying, and it was a huge part of why i didn't care for Luis in og re4, so i too am VERY glad it's gone) (timestamp)

-André jokes about Luis breaking the brake on the minecart: "I react so depressed, like.... 'Guess that's it, bro.' 'Hey man, I tried.'" He really does! it feels like a mix of sheepishness at breaking it in the first place, and just very, resigned and depressed lol. (timestamp)

-Sadly, because he hadn't played up to that point yet, he didn't watch Luis' death scene, and therefore didn't have much to say on it :c

-when the cast was asked what kind of pet each of their characters would have, André said Luis would be a cat person, and he'd probably specifically adopt a stray cat, probably one that "adopted" him first. I definitely agree! (timestamp)

i havent watched Nick's last vid in the series yet but this is long enough as it is! im planning on watching some of André's streams up on his personal channel, and some others where he's a guest in, and i may make a part 2 of this :D (update: i did, link at the top of the post lol)

[radioactive-earthshine]

Every now and then I come across Bart in fics where the author writes him as completely disinterested in older media or is contemptuous of black and white film when the comics make it very clear that Bart actually has a pretty wide range of interests across decades.

Impulse #21

During the LoSH vs Bart Allen debacle featuring the Cosmic Treadmill Bart quotes The Jetsons, the classic Hanna-Barbera cartoon from the 1960s. In the 1990s reruns of this show was broadcasted very frequently alongside dozens of other cartoons so he would definitely have had an active choice to watch it or not.

Impulse #53

The Patty Duke Show from the 1960s is a little niche even for teens of the 90s and it is interesting that he watches it. The show was not colorized, and was aired on Nickelodeon during their "Nick-at-Nite" broadcast block in the 1990s.... which Bart should have been asleep for.... because his bedtime is 8:00pm... and that block started at 9:00 iirc.

But that's how it was for our world, for the comic world Pickelodeon may have had a completely different broadcast. Still it is a little charming to imagine Bart sneaking to watch this show, and maybe Helen would permit it and supersede Max's bedtime regime.

The premise of the show in relation to Bart and Thad's relationship is amusing and fitting, identical 'cousins' who are completely different in personality, taste and temperament as they get into shenanigans and fumble around displaced from home.

Impulse #57

On Christmas Eve it has been a long standing tradition for It's a Wonderful Life (in this case X-Mas) to air on American television. It is regarded as a treasure and is enmeshed in pop culture whose core premise of how one man can have a profound change on everything has been reused countless times across multiple other forms of media. The film is from 1946, has been colorized but is more frequently broadcast in black and white.

Bart admitting that he wants to watch it, and furthermore that it is his favorite Christmas movie is a little unusual for teens of the 1990s compared to the monolith of other options. He watched it among many others and decided that this beloved classic was his favorite over the others.

In closing; Bart Allen plays a lot of video games, watches MTV, cartoons, and movies that are rated R but he also watches older classics too and enjoys them.

Bart came to the year 1994 with very little prejudice and does not have any contemptuous opinions regarding older media. So for your next fic instead of having him turn his nose up at the idea of watching something from the far distant decade of... 1980... consider that he would be absolutely 100% all about it.

[meraki-yao]

Hi correct me if I’m wrong but I thought I saw you mention that the same intimacy coordinator who worked on rwrb also worked on m&g, if that’s so, why was the intimacy approached differently, it seems rwrb was really toned down and alex and henry are a very passionate couple in the books and nich and taylor can definitely deliver passion and intimacy and it was rated-r so why do you think rwrb was approached differently and rather toned down, I mean what we got was great I’m still so attached to this movie 3 months later and that doesn’t happen often unless I absolutely love the movie or show but I feel like they were holding back and it becomes the question of why, was it n&t choice or matthew and intimacy coordinator or everything was done in how they wanted to tell the story, idk to me you can’t help but notice after the release of the trailer/teaser for m&g, I know it’s a different story and it’s more a drama based on a true story but very different in how they approached intimacy and affection

Okay so this turned into an essay.

I’m gonna dissect your ask into two parts, feel free to send me another ask if I missed something

Q1: Why was the intimacy in RWRB approached differently and less intense than M&G

Q2: Why was the intimacy in RWRB toned down from the book even with an R rating and with Taylor & Nick clearly capable of delivering passion and intimacy, and who was responsible for that

Firstly, yes, Robbie Taylor Hunt was the intimacy coordinator for both RWRB and M&G

Secondly, a little bit of background for M&G to aid my explanation later: While M&G isn’t out yet, I did read George Villiers’ Wikipedia page (Thanks Henry), listen to Nick talk a bit about him from a podcast episode, and watch the trailer. To summarize quickly, King James I has a list of male lovers, Mary Villiers realized her son had potential, so she more or less moulded him into a figure that the King would immensely like. Sex with the King was all for political power: George has sex with the King, and the King enjoys the pleasure he brings and lavishes him with treasures and political power in return. Historical records seem to indicate that the King really did love George as a partner, as odd (and in our modern times, toxic and maybe even “grooming”, George was 21 and the King was 48 when they met) as their relationship was. But the truth is George gained a lot from the King: he ended up one of the highest-ranking members of the court, and the only duke who wasn’t from the royal family.

So to answer your questions:

A1:

It’s mainly because since these are two different stories, the meaning of intimacy is different in each context.

RWRB is a love story. It is about the growth of the romantic relationship between Alex and Henry. Granted, they started with a friends-with-benefits arrangement but from the moment Henry kissed Alex on New Year's they both held mutual, genuine affection towards each other which later grew into love and devotion. This affection doesn’t have an underlying hidden purpose. Their intimacy is a reflection of their genuine feelings towards each other, which is why Paris is so gentle, quiet and soft. That’s the slow comfort of falling in love. Note that in the Paris scene, while it is clear what they’re physically doing, the focus is on their faces. You don’t see much below their waist. Matthew made that choice deliberately: this was an emotional experience for them as much as it was a physical experience. The sex in RWRB shows growing love.

Sex means something entirely different in M&G. To put it in a crude way, George Villiers, under his mother’s order/guidance/manipulation, fucked his way to power. Is there real affection and love between him and any or all of his partners, the King included? We honestly can’t know, because history only records what Geroge wanted to show, but it is incredibly unlikely that he did. Remember how I said there isn't an underlying hidden purpose in Alex and Henry’s affection? That’s not true for George: the hidden purpose is that he wants political power. Sex isn’t love in M&G, it’s entirely power play. And power play is violent and rough and messy, so the sex, as a reflection of that, is portrayed as such as well. Note that in the trailer, we see a lot of the body, but if you look at their faces, which isn’t the focus, he… kinda looks in pain?

A way I see it is in RWRB, Alex and Henry are both giving each other pleasure, as well as their heart. It’s slow, it’s gentle, and it’s respectful: Henry guides Alex in, Alex pays attention to each change on Henry’s face, and only moves when Henry consents, and even then, he moves slowly and the speed later builds up

Now look at the M&G trailer, it’s more like George’s partners are taking pleasure from him. It, at the very least, looks far less mutual than what Alex and Henry have. Geroge gives others pleasure, and in return, he gets political power.

TLDR: RWRB’s intimacy was less intense than that of M&G because intimacy has a different meaning/ symbolism in each story.

A2:

Part of this is because of the limitations of movie storytelling.

A book doesn’t have time limits, a movie does.

If you look at the book, at the beginning of Alex and Henry’s relationship, a lot of the sex was kind of repetitive in a way. Paris and MET for Alex’s birthday were covered in three pages. And both of those Alex compartmentalized as “friendship with benefits”. Aside from the internal monologue of him observing Henry sleeping which can’t be delivered on screen effectively, it’s mostly reiterating the same sentiment from the polo match: they use their international events as escapades to have sex with each other. But put that in the movie and it would take up the limited movie time, time that needs to be used for effective storytelling. The time used for Alex and Henry’s walk in the Paris garden could be used for a montage of all of their kinky sexual shenanigans instead, but if the polo hook-up can establish the intensity of their hooks up in the same way, then that time is better used exploring Henry’s baggage. TLDR: not enough time in regard to the number of times they have sex compared to the book.

The other part is by Matthew’s design.

I don’t remember where I saw/heard it from, either a podcast or an article, where Matthew half-jokingly said people will get bored if it’s just smut all the time. Yes, Alex and Henry are a very passionate couple, as shown by their first hook-up in the movie and the polo scene, but because gay sex in media is mostly portrayed as this wild, sexy frenzy, Matthew also wanted to show that gay sex can be emotionally vulnerable, which is why Paris was so focused on their faces, ergo, their emotions. Matthew wanted it to be something gentle and emotion-focused, so that was his priority in designing the scene.

Also there’s the fact that they’re older in the movie, thus more mature and a little less… hormonal. I think they get to the emotional connection a little earlier than their book counterparts.

A thing to note is that the movie wasn’t aiming for an R rating. In a really good podcast episode with Matthew and Tommy Didario, he even expressed disappointment in MAP for rating the movie R, saying that if it was a straight couple, it most likely wouldn’t have gotten an R rating, and even if we ignore latent homophobia, there’s are films much more violent than RWRB is sexually explicit, yet those films are PG 13.

I agree that if needed, Nick and Taylor can deliver something more intense. They’re clearly comfortable with each other, as seen from the bloopers of Paris morning and the fact that Robbie wasn’t there when they shot the lake scene, yet they were comfortable enough with touching each other and gentle kisses. They’ve also both done more explicit things: Taylor with Minx, Nick with M&G (granted that came later).

But the thing is, the RWRB movie doesn’t exactly… need more, from the storytelling perspective. I might say putting a sexy montage in between Polo and Paris might clarify the timeline a little, but that would still just be little clips of what we’ve already seen in the previous two scenes. And just from what I’ve seen, people who have read the book (myself included) would think it’s toned down, but some YouTube reaction videos from people who haven’t read the book find it really spicy. We book readers just have a comparison.

TLDR: In the movie's story, we didn't really need more sex scenes

Wow, I didn’t intend this to be so long, but I haven’t written a RWRB essay in a hot minute. This was a lot of fun, so thank you for the ask, and I hope I could answer you!

[deadpresidents]

Can you tell us more about James A Garfield and is there any media of him that you recommend? All I know is the book by Goodyear..

I always say that Garfield was one of the big "What if?" Presidents in American history had he not been assassinated. He was a fascinating character and could have been the transformational leader that propelled the United States through late-Reconstruction and the Gilded Age in ways that the other Presidents between Lincoln and McKinley were unable to do. Garfield was young (just 49 years old when he died), energetic, charismatic, absolutely brilliant, and aggressively progressive. He had ideas and the ability to implement them instead of simply being a steady hand. And, like JFK in a way, he brought his young, attractive family to the White House and that could have helped him lead the country in a different direction than his less engaging contemporaries who immediately preceded and succeeded him like Grant, Hayes, Arthur, Cleveland, and Benjamin Harrison. Garfield also had a somewhat mystical quality to him that I also believe would have captivated many Americans in an entirely new manner than most Presidents. The fact that he was only President for 199 days -- most of which were spent fighting for his life after he was shot -- is one of the great missed opportunities of American history.

For more on Garfield, the C.W. Goodyear biography that you mentioned, President Garfield: From Radical to Unified (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO), is the most recent (published in 2023) and fresh look at his life and career. But there are several others that I'd highly recommend checking out:

•Garfield by Allan Peskin (BOOK | KINDLE), was published in 1978 and, for many years, was the best, most in-depth full-fledged biography on Garfield. It's still a must-read, in my opinion. •Dark Horse: The Surprise Election and Political Murder of President James A. Garfield by Kenneth D. Ackerman (BOOK | KINDLE), was published in 2003, and is an excellent look at Garfield's shocking nomination and election in 1880, brief Presidency, and tragic assassination. •Touched With Fire: Five Presidents and the Civil War That Made Them by James M. Perry (BOOK | KINDLE), was also published in 2003. It's not a full biography of Garfield, but a look at the five Presidents who saw combat during the Civil War -- Grant, Hayes, Garfield, Benjamin Harrison, and McKinley -- and how those experiences shaped them. •Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine, and the Murder of a President by the always-awesome Candice Millard (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO), was published in 2011 and it is the definitive book on Garfield's assassination. It's a detailed illustration of the shooting that wounded Garfield and his brutal, two-and-a-half -month-long battle to attempt to survive his wounds -- a battle that was ultimately lost largely due to the botched medical "care" that the President received after he was shot. Candice's book reads like a novel and it's apparently the basis for the upcoming Netflix series, "Death by Lightning" featuring Michael Shannon, Betty Gilpin, Matthew Macfadyen, and Nick Offerman.

Also, PBS's American Experience released a fantastic, two-hour-long documentary on Garfield's assassination in 2016 called Murder of a President, which was also partially based on Candice Millard's book. I'm pretty biased when it comes to American Experience, which I believe is a national treasure, but Murder of a President is especially good. I don't know if you can watch it directly from the PBS American Experience website right now, but you can find the film on sites like iTunes and Amazon Prime.

[queenvidal]

The Missing Piece

Chapter 2: Strange Feelings

Chapter Summary: Goodneighbor is facing quite some problems but Hancock needs a break. It's hard to concentrate with his mind spiraling back to the woman from the vault.

Wordcount: 2159

Chapter Index:

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9

Masterlist

The last week has been a mess.

The group of green skins that have attacked Nick and Blue settled down not far away from Goodneighbor. In fact, they came far too close for Hancock’s liking. He and Fahrenheit spend the last few days working hard on finding a solution. So hard even that John didn’t have time to take one of his little chem breaks every now and then to take off the edge.

His usually blurred mind sobered up over the time and got almost completely clear and sharp and it just wouldn’t shut up. Though being sober isn't something John is unfamiliar with, the sheer chaos in his head had kept him from concentrating. 

Thoughts were racing through his head, bringing past demons back into focus. His mind zoned out constantly, brought him back to diamond city, to the things he did and didn’t do. But the worst part was the anxiety. Out of the blue he’d feel knots tightening in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He’d find himself clenching onto his sofas or desk, his chest heaving. At first he thought it might be some kind of bad tripping or a response to the never ending flood of pictures in his head. But he knows what that feels like and it doesn’t come close to whatever is going on with him now. It’s something he has no idea how to handle.

His nerve-racking arm was just the cherry on the top. Amari couldn’t find what was causing that unpleasant feeling and ended up just injecting Med-X. It did not help in the slightest, but Hancock didn’t bother to tell her. He thanked her for her help with Blue and his arm and quickly left.

“Hancock, what the fuck?” She asks, looking up from the map on the table. John’s face stays unreadable sternly, if she wouldn’t know him as well as she does, she’d find it quite intimidating. “That’s just bullshit! Are you even listening to what I’m saying? We are low on supplies as it is.” She points onto the map. “We can't go in with two teams, the two blocks are still raider territory, we'd have to -"

Needless to say that John’s mood soured quickly over the past few days and Fatenheit is getting sick of it.

“I’ve said two teams and two teams will get sent.” His voice is uncomfortably calm. The guards around the makeshift warrable share uneasy glances. Hancock has been really on edge like he is right now. To call the atmosphere in the room tense would be an understatement. 

Fahrenheit doesn’t care about what he wants. “I won’t send our men on a suicide mission just because these mutants hurt the robots little girlfriend.”

John's knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the table. “You do as I say.”

“Nope. Know what,  I’m out.” Fahrenheit rounds the table to go for the door. She snips into the air, getting her men moving out of the room. “I am fucking tired of your irrational and stubborn orders. We'll adjourn this whole revenge trip of yours until you get your shit together. Go get your ass to The Third Rail and get wasted or something. It is absolutely impossible to work with you right now!" And with that the woman steps out of the office, leaving Hancock alone in the dim light of a few candles. 

He's furious. How dare she talk to him like that? As much as he treasures their friendship, this woman is crossing lines. At the end of the day, he's the mayor and she's just his right hand. He's in charge and that's something she needs to keep in mind. it's one thing to yell at him when they are private and talking eye to eye, no problem with that. But she has to fucking stay in line when it is business related. Especially with their men around.

Her current disobedience is maddening. And the damn migraine isn't helping either. Or his shaking hands. Or the cold sweet. For fuck sake, withdrawals already? The absolute last thing he wants to do is admitting that Fahrenheit was right. Maybe he really should take a break and drown himself in cheap whisky that  would make humans go blind. Maybe combined with jet, slowing his spinning mind that won't shut up about things he'd rather not think about.

Well, If they are still having jet and whisky, or alcohol in general that is. Their supply line is still cut. Another problem Hancock still has to solve. Maybe the mutants will kill the raiders or the other way around. That would be the easiest way but that again, nothing in the Commonwealth is easy.

Whatever. There is still an untouched 'survival kit' of all kinds of chems in the drawer of the mayor's desk. It definitely won't save his life when his town of criminals and junkies revolt against him for letting them dry down but at least he would be far away in mindless bliss when they paint his office with his guts.

Damn, since when did his thoughts go down such dark roads? John shakes his head, he really needs a break before his thoughts drive him crazy. With a sigh he takes his pack of smokes and leaves for The Third Rail.

When he passes Ham with a nod in greeting and enters the bar, he gets hit by the smell of cheap perfume, booze, smoke and vomit. Home.

The ghouls face cracks a smile when he sees his favorite detective sitting right at the bar, downing a longdrink, that smells exactly like coolant. Hancock takes the chair next to him. "Look who's here. Mind some company, Nicky?"

The synth huffs a laugh and takes a sip from his drink before he answers. "Not at all. And who am I to reject the mayor of Goodneighbor?"

Hancock orders two whiskeys and downs them both in one needy gulp. The liquid slowly burns its way down John's throat. Damn, he really needed that. While savoring the slow burn, he puts the glasses down with a loud clink.

Nick eyes Hancock with a questioning frown. "Ehm. A bit eager, are we?" Charlie refills the glasses without a comment and hovers away to the other guests. 

John pulls out a pack of smokes from his pocket, taking one out and offers Nick one as well. The detective doesn't say no but the frown doesn't leave his face when he takes one.

"Long day in the office." John sighs as he lights up his cigarette before taking a long drag. "How are you doing, Nicky, everyone treating you alright?"

Nick simply nods before he takes another sip. "Yeah, yeah."

John notices the tiredness in the synth's voice. Something is the matter. "So." The ghoul starts. "And what is your excuse for being here? Despite the girls and drinks?" Hancock lets his gaze wander through the bar. All familiar faces are sitting on crates, listening to Magnolia, drinking, fainting. Nothing out of the ordinary. A black haired woman meets his eyes, she smiles at him from under her bangs. Hancock acknowledges her by tipping his hat down a bit before he returns his attention back to his friend who still didn't answer his question.

Nick's eyes are glued at the almost empty glass in his hand while he takes long drags of his cigarette. He looks lost in thought, like he is pouting for whatever reason. "C'mon Nicky, what's bothering you? Everything alright with your vaultie?"

The synth just shakes his head. Eventually he sighs, "No, not really." John feels his stomach drop at that. Were her injuries more severe than they thought, did she catch an infection? All kinds of scenarios are floating around in his head. Nick takes another drag, "But I guess the Doc already told you." 

Actually she didn't. John hasn’t talked to her since Nick and Blue came into town. His arm did really go on his nerves, but he didn’t want to bother Amari with it again. He figured it might be part of his ghoulification. Losing some parts other than the nose and ears is normal, usually a toe or two. To lose whole limbs is possible but it's  very, very rare. Definitely not something John would be looking forward to but in the end he knew what he got himself into when he made his decision to become one. 

Also the last days were very stressful.  He was so occupied with his arm and the super mutants, he simply forgot to ask the doc about the woman from a vault. 

Which is a total lie.

John found his mind taking him back to the night where Nick and Blue stumbled through the gates ever so often. But lying to himself is easier than facing his worries for a person he barely met. Or the strange clenching of his guts whenever he memorized Blue’s wound and the sheer amount of blood all over her suit and Nick.

John tears his mind away from the memory, "Haven't spoken to her since you two came here. What's wrong?"

The vague answer only adds to the uneasy feeling in Hancock guts. "Care to be a bit more precise?"

Nick just sighs. “A lot.”

"She… well, let's say she's been through a lot and it shows - mentally."

Now that just piques John's curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"You know I don't talk about running investigations, Hancock."

So Blue is an actual client of his. Why the hell would somebody from a vault leave one of the safetes places in the Commonwealth behind to ask a synth detective for help? John hits the synth on his shoulder lightly. "Come on now, Nick. Don't leave me hanging here like that."

Nick puts out his cigarette in an ashtray before looking up to answer. "She's in the Rexford. Talk to her if you want to know more about her story, it's not my place to tell."

Hancock just rolls with his eyes. Of course he could just do that but if he’s honest to himself, her private matters are none of his business. Sure, he could defend himself by playing the 'I'm the mayor of the town and saved your life' card but that's not his style. And technically did Amari save her life - He just stabbed Finn out of the way.

John cringes internally at that. Damn, shes a fucking vaultie after all, her people are not used to the harsh reality outside their giant metal doors. Hell, she even most likely never saw a ghoul before. What  must she be thinking of him-

"Good evening, mayor Hancock."

The soft voice behind the men makes them turn their heads towards the source of it. It’s the black haired girl from the table on the other side of the bar.

"Good evening yourself-" John knows her, he is certain of it but what's her name again? Mindy? Suzi? "Pretty." Or just go with harmless, flattering pet names. A method that proved to be very sufficient over the years. The woman gives him a bright smile in response. "What can I do for you?" John asks even though he already knows what she's up to.

She bites her lower lip playfully, all of the sudden acting shy. "Well, I wondered if you'd like to have some company later, you know?”

Yeah, just like John thought. Nick looks at him with a knowing smile on his face but doesn't say anything. The ghoul considers her invention for a moment. The main dilemma for the last few years, ever since he became mayor of Goodneighbor - Sex or drugs. 

Both at the same time can be fun, too. But the possibility of passing out during a one night stand, being that vulnerable around a person who is just interested in his caps or chems, or just has a weird ghoul fetish, that's stuff nightmares are made of. At least his. So no, both are not an option.

"You can have him." Nick says nonchalantly as he stands up from his chair. "I've finished my drink anyway and I have a client to take care of." 

Jealousy hits John like a bolt of lightning. A feeling he didn't have in a very long time. It's so sudden and without warning, it takes him off guard. He tries not to read too much into that and turns his attention back to Trudy. Or Ruby? The woman takes Nick's seat immediately even though John hasn't answered yet. With a sigh on the remaining of his lips he just gives in. No drugs tonight then. But before Nick is out of earshot, John calls after him. There is one burning question he needs an answer for. "Nick! Blue ain't her real name, is it?"

The synth waves at him as he makes his way to the exit. "It's not."

Chapter Index:

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9

Masterlist

Taglist: @loverofclones / @squeakythedragon / @martinys-world / @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth