#am i going to blame this on a short episode count and also short episodes. yeah maybe. plague upon the earth

[hauntingblue]

Castlevania is interesting but tell my why we get three episodes of internal conflict in the dracula castle (good) while the main characters are on a library and do fuck all. Well they have three scenes of relationship building that are supposed to mean something when they come out but they are so little and superficial imo

[ashonheavenscloud]

five more minutes || h. jisung

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: han jisung x reader, college au, established relationship, fluff, slightly suggestive, intense make out sesh, disgusting amounts of mutual simping

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 1.8K

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: tinyyy bit suggestive (this whole fic is just one really long kiss scene LMAO), one (1) hickey is given to reader

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: repost from my old instagram under starryy.chan. this is like 2 and a half years old so i’m not sure how great the writing still is but i hope you enjoy regardless! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

now playing : whisper - park jiwoo

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

If a more perfect end of your day existed, you didn’t think you wanted it.

It had been meeting under that giant oak tree on campus, just to sneak a few kisses after your last classes of the day ended. Then Jisung had dragged you to a nearly secret bakery, hidden along the outskirts of the university campus, where the store owner had offered you a small box of macarons with the chocolate cheesecake you’d shared. You’d taken them snugly in their container back to Jisung’s apartment, where the treats had been devoured over a heated and exhilarating few rounds of uno. 

You’d decided on a simple dinner: a pizza (or maybe it was two) to share over loud discussion and banter, where he relentlessly teased you and you argued playfully back. With him, the rhythm of conversation flowed effortlessly- and over every possible topic you could explore. Because it was just that easy with him, just that natural. 

And Jisung had the unique ability to make you laugh with hardly any effort. What was even better was how much you knew he attempted to bring out your smile and loud giggles simply because he loved them. He never failed to tell you that, and it always left you a flustered mess. Which, of course, he also adored.

And after way too much teasing and silly banter and lame puns just to crack a smile, Jisung pulled you onto his lap. He hugged you close, sighing in content when you let your head fall onto his chest. His heartbeat in your ear, paired with the sound of his breathing, was so calming as you binged several episodes of a favourite show. Occasionally, the boy pressed a kiss to your forehead or around the crown of your head. You, in turn, laced your fingers through his and played with his various silver rings and admired the black polish on his nails.

Yes. Yes, you barely paid any attention to the TV. And could you be blamed, when every time you peeked at Jisung, you could see the pure love shining from his eyes as he looked back at you with that beautiful smile of his?

And after what had been nearly six hours together, it became apparent that the day would have to end at some point. You had early classes, and Jisung worked at 9 am, which meant the two of you needed to momentarily part ways. Jisung drove the short fifteen minutes to your place, before pausing in front of the building. Looking out the car window into the night, you felt a sad little pang to your heart.

“You have everything?” Jisung inquired, offering you your bag. You took the thin straps in one hand, nodding slowly before looking up at him.

Describing what Jisung meant to you was always hard. You knew you loved him, but it was more than that. You felt safe with him, and when you were around him all your worries seemed to melt away. Especially late at night, you hated to leave.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” You confessed, feeling a little silly. It wasn’t like you weren’t going to see him soon. After all, you went to the same university together and texted pretty much constantly. But for some reason, tonight it was even harder to step out of the car.

Jisung must have noticed, because he gently pulled the backpack from your grasp and replaced it with his hand. He slid his fingers to fit between yours, making your heart do all sorts of acrobatics in your chest. He slowly smiled at you, allowing his other hand to rest lightly on your thigh as he leaned closer to murmur,

“Let’s make it a long one then.”

He moved in to press his lips to yours, softly taking your lips in his. You responded instantly, inhaling as you moved your mouth to the rhythm Jisung set- a leisurely pace that sent your mind spiraling at his touch. His free hand found a stray piece of your hair to tuck behind your ear as he kissed the corner of your lips, then your cheek and jawline with several more slow pecks. You sighed in absolute content, eyes closing to focus on what you were feeling- the tickle of his breath on your skin before each press of his warm lips, the occasional touch of his tongue that made you shiver, the brush of his fingers as they wound around your neck to tangle into your hair.

Here you could sense the embers sparking to life in your veins as you pulled him in for another kiss. This one was firmer, more needy than before; you sucked on his bottom lip, hearing a low hum from his throat as he tugged lightly at your hair, bringing your face as close as possible to him. “I love you,” he whispered, and then again and again with every added press. Butterflies flew up your throat; his air was your only air- and the only air you felt you’d ever need or want again. 

Kissing Jisung was exhilarating. Like a drop on a rollercoaster played over and over; a stutter of your heart felt in the best kind of way.

Your fingertips landed lightly on his shoulder, before slowly bunching the fabric of his blue sweater. His kisses remained heated but came along slower; they savoured yours, each methodical roll of his tongue purposeful. He knew the best ways to rile you up- and luckily you knew his weaknesses, too. You allowed your hand to drop and brush along his forearm, dragging your fingers up his arm and around his neck. You felt him shiver at the same time you did, as his hand released yours to grasp your waist. In one swift motion Jisung pulled you over the seat to tumble onto his lap as his lips continued their abuse on your own. You responded with equal enthusiasm as you found a tight grasp on his dark locks and pulled harshly. He grunted and urged you closer, kissing you ravenously- you heard him pant out, “Y/n-”

You became acutely aware of the warmth of his thighs underneath you, the firm muscles of his chest pressed to yours, and every touch of his skin on yours. His teeth nibbling your bottom lip was more than enough to drive you near insanity, and his firm grip sliding over your hips did nothing to help that. You wanted absolutely no space between the two of you, nothing but him and you stuck together like glue. And it seemed Jisung had the same idea, as he wriggled his arms out of the sleeves of his sweater, the sleeveless white tee underneath already precarious over his shoulders. Your fingertips traced over his arms again- this time, you could feel the burning heat of his skin, the flexing of his biceps as his hold on your waist tightened, his breathing coming out unsteady. 

Through the fuzziness of your mind, you felt words you didn’t mean come from your parted lips. “Shouldn’t- shouldn’t we go?”

“No-” Jisung managed, kissing you like he might never have the chance again. His kisses trailed south, making you gasp as he found your throat and quickened his pace over your skin. And between each peck: “Five- more- minutes.”

As if you hadn’t been hoping he’d say that.

And any last whisper of a thought to go was buried once his lips found its place right under the curve of your jawline, a sensitive spot only Jisung knew about. You gasped as his teeth nipped at your skin, shooting fire through your veins as it left a mark. His hands gently rocked your hips over his, and you stuttered out a whine. Jisung’s murmurs- words completely  lost in your hazy state- were breathy and low, making you shiver as the warmth of his breath tickled your skin before his lips made contact along your neck again. Feather kisses fluttered across your collarbone, accompanied by his hands winding around your neck, thumb absentmindedly brushing your jawline. 

His words were whispered louder this time, and you finally heard them clearly. “ Let’s lose time, Princess.” He breathed as his lips touched your ear, and goosebumps erupted over your skin. They trailed along your jaw, before your mouths were locked again, and his words disappeared in favour of sloppy kisses.

Your mouth was captive to his, and content to remain so. His hands ran up and down your sides, fingers teasing the hem of your hoodie to skim his fingertips over your burning skin. It sent shivers across your body, and a soft breathy whine left your lips as your fingers found purchase in his locks again. Your brain was a jumbled mess, just every cell of your existence intent on Jisung, whose mouth worked wonders as he slid his tongue along your bottom lip, before diving in again.

You swore you could have spent hours just kissing him, bodies pressed together, air a distant and seemingly inessential thing at the moment. His hands teased you under your sweatshirt, while his lips continued their breathtaking work with yours. You felt on fire, heat simmering over every inch of your skin and burning where his lips touched you. At last, some sense seemed to come back to the both of you, and Jisung’s kisses slowed to softer, slower movements.

“Princess?” He murmured against your lips at last, and you knew that it really was time for the two of you to go.

You pulled away, breathing heavily as your eyes refocused onto Jisung in front of you. He was also panting, eyes looking back at you. For a minute you were both still; then Jisung’s hands dropped to find yours, fingers tangling between your own.

“Did you know I love you?” He whispered- like it was a promise, a secret  just for the two of you. And it only mattered that you knew it.

You ducked your head to plant a soft kiss to his swollen lips, feeling him grin into the kiss when you did. You lingered close when you leaned back, noses nearly touching, his breath tickling your face. “I think you’ve told me.”

His eyes flickered to yours, and the adoration in them made your breath catch. 

“I love you, Ji.” You whispered, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. You watched him slowly smile- the kind of smile that had you feeling something far beyond happy- before resting your head on his shoulder.

His arms wound around your waist, fingertips gently drawing circles over your back. It was silent and peaceful for a moment before Jisung spoke again.

“We really should go-”

You shushed him with a quick kiss before collapsing against his chest again. “Five more minutes.”

Jisung laughed softly, and when his grip on you tightened and his head fell against yours, you knew you’d won him over.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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[vivalas-vega]

Oooh my, your requests are freaking open???? I've got an idea in my head for a long time and now I give it a try and send it to you. I'm obsessed with Jake (and Bradley) x Roomie (fem reader or oc) trope, so apologies in advance for this one (also a sucker for hurt and comfort 😬). I try to keep it as short as possible: Rooster's and Hangman's new roomie has a sad past. She has sleeping issues and bad nightmares. They hear her whimpering and crying in her sleep. The guys are worried but she plays it down, feeling bad for waking them up with her shit. Maybe she starts to sleep walking and unfortunately hurts herself during this episode. The guys find her in the middle if the night hurt. And she opens up to them telling them about her dreams and her past.

ahhhh !!! I'm so glad to finally get this one posted, I'm so sorry it took so long ! I am such a sucker for the roommate trope, and I love writing stories that are strictly platonic, just focusing on lovely friendship vibes bc those are just as important as the romantic ones !!! I hope you enjoy!

(this doesn't have a title yet bc it's admittedly the thing I'm the worst at when it comes to writing fics)

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, some suggestive humor, language, brief and vague mentions of death, lmk if I missed any

“Are you going to eat these leftovers?” you asked Bradley, who was sitting at the kitchen island keeping you company as you cleaned out the fridge and he stared at the tupperware container for an infuriatingly long time, contemplating his options before you let out an exasperated sigh. “Bradshaw, it’s pasta. Yes or no?”

“No,” he finally answered. “You’re in a mood.” 

“No mood, it would just be nice if you could be snappier in your responses while you just watch me clean the kitchen.”

“Yeah, definitely not in a mood,” he muttered under his breath but you heard it anyway. “Do you know where Hangman is?”

“You two share a bathroom and you still can’t call him by his name?” you asked with a chuckle. “He’s at the gym, should be back soon.”

“We only share a bathroom because you got the master,” he protested and you laughed again.

“I needed the bigger closet,” you shrugged. “I told you you’re welcome to use mine anytime.”

“After you reamed me for using your face wash? Thank you, but no thank you, I haven’t been yelled at like that since I borrowed my moms car to take Cindy Daniels on a date.”

“I only yelled because you used a forty dollar cleanser as body wash and somehow managed to use half the bottle. Besides, your mom was right to yell at you too, you stole her car and you were thirteen.”

“I was covered in grease! And my date with Cindy is none of your business.” 

“Are we having the face wash fight again?” Jake asked as he came in through the garage, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he reached around you to grab a bottle of water, but you only pushed him away, muttering something about keeping his sweat away from you. “Take the blame, Chicken, you wasted half a bottle of Drunk Elephant, you’re lucky she didn’t put you on the porch for the night.”

“See, the craziest thing about this whole situation is you were just as outraged as she was.”

“Good skincare is not just for women, you might want to invest in a routine of your own.” he smirked before disappearing down the hallway and you heard the sound of the shower turning on.

“You working tomorrow?” Bradley asked, getting up to wash the containers you’d placed near the sink.

You shook your head, “a Friday and Saturday off, Penny was feeling extra generous.” You’d met the two of them, along with the rest of the team, when they’d first gotten to town for the infamous and secretive mission that almost claimed the life of the man currently donning cherry-printed cleaning gloves and scrubbing pasta sauce out of tupperware. You’d all become fast friends, they’d coax you out from behind the bar on your breaks or when your shift was over for darts or pool, and when your lease was up just as they received word of a permanent assignment it seemed to make sense for the three of you to find a place together. It was a godsend for you, it got you out of your cramped apartment with dismal lighting and into a beautiful craftsman only a few blocks away from the beach. Even with arguments with Bradley about face wash and a sweaty Jake, it was a no-brainer.

“Could we convince you into coming to your place of work on a night off? These new recruits are testing our patience, Phoenix wants a fun night out to blow off steam.”

“I could potentially be persuaded,” you replied, shutting the fridge after deeming it was as cleared out as it was going to get. 

“Which translates to as long as I’m not mixing them, I’ll always show up for drinks,” Jake said, walking back into the kitchen with freshly washed hair. “Do I get any kind of welcome home now that I’m not sweaty?” 

“No, because now you’re wet, did you even dry off?” you asked, snapping him with a dish towel before he rounded the island and wrapped his arms around you.

“Enough,” he answered, squeezing you tight as you pretended to hate it. Really, you loved living with these two. Being on your own before was starting to take its toll on you, and they reminded you of a different time in your life, one that felt like it was ancient history. “Not to dampen the mood, but… we did want to talk to you about something.”

“Sounds serious, should I break out the house meeting wine?” you asked, eyeing them skeptically as they shared a look with each other that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“We just wanted to… check in,” Bradley started and you raised your eyebrows. “The past few weeks we’ve heard certain sounds coming from your room and-”

“Okay, first of all,-” you started to cut him off, eyes wide at what you thought he was insinuating.

“Not like that, sweetheart,” Jake interjected. “But feel free to get louder when you do,” he half-joked and you hit him with the towel again. “What bird boy is trying to say is sometimes we hear what sounds like nightmares coming from your room and it’s happened enough that we just want to check in and see if everything is okay.” You suddenly felt nauseous. 

“If there’s something going on, or you need someone to talk to, you know we’re here, right?” Bradley asked and you nodded softly.

“I know, everything is fine, I’m sorry if I woke you.” you said, trying to dismiss their concerns altogether as you occupied yourself with looking over the mail.

“It’s just… it doesn’t sound fine, if you don’t want to talk to us we can help you find someone else to talk to, we just want to make sure you’re okay.” Jake tried and you gave him a forced smile.

“And I am, but I’m glad the two of you finally found something to agree on.” You tossed some junk mail in the garbage before turning to face them again, “I have some errands I want to run early tomorrow morning… text me if you need anything from the store but I’m going to turn in. Goodnight,” you said with another forced smile before heading down the hall and letting out a sigh as your back pressed against your closed bedroom door. You thought that things had gotten better… that enough time had passed. They seemed to be happening less and less, but maybe that wasn’t as true as you once thought. 

Your footsteps down the hallway were an unusual sound for this time of night… nightmares or not, once you went to bed you weren’t seen until the following morning and it was enough to stir Jake from his slumber. You on the other hand, were completely unaware of what was going on, still stuck in a dream, stuck in a fluorescent lit hallway with tears streaming down your face only you weren’t… you were in your living room, walking straight into the console table and falling onto the broken glass of the picture frames and vases you’d knocked over which was enough to jolt both of them out of bed. 

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Bradley asked, crouching down beside you as you came to.

“Mav- Maverick?” you asked, voice hoarse as you struggled to place where you were, the images from your dream still fresh in your mind. He looked at Jake confused who was on the other side of you and carefully pushing glass aside.

“No, it’s Bradley… Honey, what happened?” You blinked a few times, finally recognizing you were on the floor of your living room and the searing pain of broken glass in your palms and knees.

“I don’t- oh my god. I’m so sorry,” you winced as you tried to stand but Jake was quick to scoop you up, holding you tight as he walked to the kitchen and carefully placed you next to the sink while Bradley grabbed the first aid kit. “I- I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m okay, you can go back to bed.” He just frowned at you and when Bradley returned he started pulling the shards from your palms while Jake worked on your knees. Silent tears were still streaming down your face and they were both trying to figure out how to ask you what was wrong, but one thing they knew for certain was no one was going back to bed until they got to the bottom of what was going on with you.

“Sweetheart, do you want to tell us what’s going on?” Jake asked softly, looking up briefly to meet your eyes before gently running his thumb along your cuts, making sure there weren’t any pieces he missed. 

You shook your head as you wiped your cheeks, “nothing, I just… I don’t know, I guess I was half-asleep? I’m really sorry I woke you,” you said and they both looked at you like they didn’t believe a word of it.

“Alright, I was willing to maybe let it go before but you could have been seriously hurt tonight. Something is going on with you,” Jake said, voice firm as he stopped what he was doing to wipe a few of your tears.

“Whatever it is, you can tell us. Why did you say Maverick’s name when you woke up?” Bradley asked and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath before letting it all out. 

“I uh… there’s something I never told you about me.” you started, taking a moment to breathe as you felt your throat tighten. They stayed quiet, both carefully dabbing at your cuts with a damp cloth or rubbing aquaphor over them before bandaging them. “I wasn’t a teacher before realizing I liked bartending more, I was a pilot.”

“Wait, what?” Bradley asked, shock evident in his tone and Jake elbowed him, eyes silently pleading for you to continue. 

“My callsign is- or was Flash… like the superhero,” you chuckled but there wasn’t much humor in it and both of their eyes widened. “I was on a mission that went south really fast,  we were outnumbered and outgunned, we ran out of resources quickly. I was hit, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t save it, I couldn’t save him.” you choked out.

“Who?” Bradley whispered, you were all cleaned up now and they were both focused solely on you. Jake was rubbing reassuring circles on your thigh as Bradley held one of your hands in his own.

“My wizzo, we called him Genie… we both got to our squad at the same time, and on our first night out his icebreaker was if you had three wishes, what would you wish for?” You laughed again, but this time it was genuine.

“I’ve heard of him,” Jake said, noticing your breathing quicken just at the mention of him. “Both of you, actually, from what I’ve heard you were a hell of a pilot.”

“He couldn’t eject, something went wrong with the handles… I’d already pulled mine when I heard him say they were stuck and the next thing I know the jet is crashing into a hillside below me. I thought the dreams were getting better, and that I was maybe starting to move past it… I don’t think I really registered that it was happening again, or maybe that it never stopped.” 

“Honey, why didn’t you tell us this sooner?” Bradley asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear and you focused your gaze on your hands.

“I just… I didn’t want you to know that I failed my wizzo,” you choked out. “Or that the last time I was in a cockpit I nearly crashed again and Mav had to talk me through landing a plane I’ve landed thousands of times before because I panicked. I didn’t want you guys to censor yourselves when it came to work stuff out of pity for me being a failed pilot, and I guess… I just didn’t want you guys to look at me differently.”

“Hey, what happened wasn’t your fault,” Jake said, squeezing your thigh gently and prompting you to look up at him. “And we would never look at you differently for that, we understand.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that… and just know that we don’t think of you as a failure. We’ve both heard about that mission, there was nothing you could have done. Faulty equipment and being outgunned is not your burden to bear.” Bradley added, running a hand along your back.

“What is it that you say sometimes? It’s not the plane, it’s the pilot?” you asked, sadness seeping into your tone and he just pulled you into his side and pressed a kiss to your head.

“There’s not much the pilot can do if the plane fails them.”

“You went through a trauma, we would never fault you for not flying again after that.” Jake said and you smiled softly.

“Mav could… god, he tried so hard, he was really there for me after it happened, but… when I finally got back into a plane I just couldn’t shake it. It was like I could still hear him in my backseat even though he wasn’t there.”

“Just because Mav could, that doesn’t mean you’re a lesser pilot or a lesser person for not being able to, if anything I think it makes you stronger. You knew your limits, and instead of pushing through it when you couldn’t trust flying again you took a step back. I know a lot of people who wouldn’t make that same choice.” Bradley said, nudging Jake and you let out a laugh as you wiped your face again.

“Yeah, I thank my lucky stars I never crossed this one’s path when I was still flying,” you said and Jake’s face twisted up in shock.

“Hey, why are we ganging up on me now?” he asked and you laughed again. 

“You make it so easy,” you teased and they both smiled, happy to see you coming back into yourself a little.

“We’re here for you, okay? So is everyone else,” Bradley said, pulling you into him again and you let yourself wrap your arms around him as you laid your head on his chest and Jake kept rubbing circles into your skin.

“No matter what, you can always come wake us up if you need someone.”

“I love you guys, you know that?” 

You could hear the smirk in Jake’s voice as he said, “oh, we know.” He wrapped himself around the other side of you as the two of them squished you between them. “We love you too.”

taglist: @callsignspirit @thegodessc @failuretothrivestuff @olliepig @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @grxcieluvr @amatswimming @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @pinkpantheris @aviatorobsessed @tiredqueen73 @pono-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @waklman @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @djs8891 @Genius2050 @stargazer-88 @chloeforde @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi (if your name is struck through, it means I couldn't tag you - sorry!)

[loganlostitall]

Better Off Dead

Rating: ehh… I’ll go with 13+

Word count: 2k

Characters: Rick Grimes x Gender neutral reader

Setting: Alexandria, after TOWL ep 1 (SPOILERS!!!)

Content warnings: HUGE SPOILER WARNING FOR THE NEW EPISODE!!!!!!!! YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN READING!!! That’s two warnings don’t blame me. Self harm and suicidal ideation, this is an almost entirely mental health related drabble. Heavy talk of cutting and scars. Typical TWD themes.

Summary: FINAL SPOILER WARNING! Rick hasn’t even been back for a full day. He is also not the only one who suffered a psychiatric decline over the years you spent apart. Both you and him are unaware that the other was in a similar spot. Hurt/comfort ensues.

Author’s note: Did NOT expect to be writing a Rick x reader in the middle of the goddamn night but my theory about Rick’s hand got proven right within not even five minutes and I was losing my shit. I started trying to think of plot immediately and once I saw more on mental health I was gone. Me and my love for mentally ill men <3

I wanted to post this the same night as release it fought me hard 😭 never expected to be doing Rick x reader and wanted to be perfect. Once again, the title is linked to the songspo so you can listen along.

Unbeta’d again, hope this is decent for u guys :3

The very moment you woke up, the first thing you became aware of was the fact that you found yourself in bed alone. Not unlike all the other nights. It was routine by now. The occasional, unique circumstance of this particular morning though, was the urge. Unshakable. All encompassing. It crashed through your brain and down into your body, pulsing through your veins, begging to be drawn out and released. Trapped under your skin. Grief.

It was almost completely overwhelming, tears flooding your lower eyelids and venturing down to your lips just as a strangled sob ripped from between them, the sound a little hoarse from your voice being unused during sleep.

You reached out blindly to the nightstand, your fingers grasping for the knife you always kept at your bedside in case of waking up to a walker breach or anything similar. Even through blurred vision, you found the handle, and brought the blade to the criss-crossed skin of your arm.

What a way to start off the morning with a bang.

Inflicting harm over previously healed scars always made you flinch harder. But you didn’t care that it hurt more. If anything, you appreciated it. It was more effective, faster. You never felt the need to leave quite as many.

Hissing through your teeth, you sat the knife down on your knee and brought your pointer and middle fingers to either side of the new wound and spread it open, luring more blood to flow out. It tickled as the thick crimson rolled down your wrist and came to a stop right where the skin curves to the heel of your palm, and you grabbed the handle once more to start the process over again.

Halfway through the next was when the door creaked.

You practically jumped out of your skin, throwing the reddened blade to clatter on the floor and snatching the covers to pull back over yourself, press them to your arm. Your free hand wiped the tears from your face as you sniffled, clearing up your sight well enough to see….

Rick. Blue eyes darkened by confusion and worry.

He stepped in cautiously, taking care to slowly and quietly shut the door behind himself and return his attention back to you. “Hey, what are you doing that for?”

“Wh— what the fuck?”

It left you as no more than a whisper, and you knew that same confusion was reflected on your own face. Rick wasn’t supposed to be here. ‘Am I hallucinating?’

“No, you’re not hallucinating. I’m right here.” Rick had nearly asked if you were okay, but stopped himself short. He’d just walked in on you cutting yourself, there was only one answer that you would, or could, give him.

You were apparently not fully awake yet, or you were still reeling from the self harm, because you’d seemingly asked the question out loud and not in your head.

His manufactured arm piece remained immobile at his side while his real hand patted himself absently in various locations, the pockets of his shirt as well as on each side of his jeans, searching for something although knowing that it wasn’t there. Rather than stand there idiotically, Rick held up a finger to signal ‘one second’ and made his way further into the room, dropping to one knee to pick up the knife you’d flung down carelessly and wiping the blood onto his shirt. And then, while he was down there, he pulled open each drawer of your nightstand until he actually found what he was looking for. Bandages. Or, more specifically, a small med kit with bandages in it. Packed full of random, useful supplies.

He remained kneeling at your bedside and spoke as he opened it. “Already forgot that you have me back?” His smile had an odd edge to it, like he was happy to see you but simultaneously disheartened by the state you were in, and concerned about the fact you’d forgotten. There was so much emotion on his face your eyes filled again.

“Yeah, I guess, I-”

You jumped when Rick pulled the blanket away from your arm and instinctively drew it back toward your chest, shielding the mess of dried blood from his worried gaze, but he simply reached for it again and coaxed it back to himself. Tentatively, not one sign of upset visible on him.

As he assessed the damage, you ashamedly looked elsewhere and returned to what you had previously been saying. “When Siddiq was still around, he diagnosed me with C-PTSD. Honestly, I think we all have something like that by now.” Laughing weakly, you bit the inside of your cheek for a few moments as Rick took care to clean the area with a small, square cloth soaked with witch hazel. It wasn’t the medication that burned, just the contact. You carried on. “He told me one of the side-effects would be my memory. Short-term, long-term, or even both… so, probably that and the fact I dreamed about finding you as a walker and having to put that knife between your eyes.”

A flare of insecurity sparked in your chest when that last statement had Rick’s eyes flitting to yours. Suddenly you found yourself critically self-conscious that he’d decide you were too much work now and leave to find better. Memory problems? Who would bother dealing with that?

“Okay,” he said surely, his voice steady. “That’s okay.” You were overwhelmed with the urge to hug him, but it would have to wait until you had your arm back. After a moment of eye contact for a second time, Rick patted the skin dry with a square of gauze and shook a small bottle of bactine before spraying a thin layer on top of the area.

The tingle of numbness was immediate. You sighed in relief as he rolled a Q-tip covered in Vaseline over each laceration and used that same last piece of gauze to delicately wipe up the excess surrounding them. And then to preserve resources, Rick opted not to open another and instead flipped that pad over to lay the dry side on your wrist; wrapped a length of blue self adherent cohesive bandage around it a few times to keep the wound dressing in place. Brought the heel of your palm to his lips, only to pause when his eyes wandered to find the array of scars littering your inner forearm. There was one in particular that he couldn’t take his attention off of.

Trailing the pad of his thumb down the length of your arm, you glanced down to see what he was looking at.

And felt nauseous.

“This one?” he asked faintly, voice barely discernible. Jagged, raised skin followed your radial artery vertically. Perpetrated on yourself while you’d searched for him.

You shrugged in an attempt to play it off as a lot calmer than you actually were. “Didn’t go deep enough.” Shame, once again, enveloped you. You felt fucking pathetic.

“Me either.”

The words felt like a bucket of ice water being dumped right over your head. Freezing your entire body, soaking your flesh and seeping beneath it to chill your bones. Your eyes found his natural fingers to discover that they were pulling his shirt collar away from his neck to reveal a slash that scabbed very recently going about a fourth of the way across his throat. Your vision swam again.

“You’re here now,” you tried. It was a lousy consolation, but you still weren’t… entirely grounded yet. Pushing yourself up to sit on your knees, Rick muttering ‘careful’ under his breath as you put weight on the hand connected to your injured arm to lean the upper half of your body off the edge of the bed, you nestled your lips just above the new scar and kissed his thrumming pulse. “We’re both here.” The two of you were equally as anxious; the way his heart was racing proved that fact. Perhaps even for the same reasons. Feeling exposed.

It was hardly a long journey from Philadelphia to Virginia. You made it back with Rick before the day was over. Subsequently, he had barely been here for twelve hours. Perhaps you hadn’t spent enough time together yet for the fact that Rick was home to truly register with you.

It seemed he may have had the same idea.

He offered you a tired half-smile and stood, closing up the med kit and returning it to its previous location only to round to the other side of the bed, make quick work of kicking off his boots, and climb in beneath the blanket. Rolling to face him, you sidled up to rest your forehead on his chest immediately, and his genuine arm fell over your side whilst the sculpted metal one lie idle beneath the pillows. The numbing from bactine was still a thing to revel over because it meant you could throw your arm over his bicep and card your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. You did not miss Rick’s short hair. His fingers soothed up and down your back in a comforting manner and you both laid utterly still, breathing the same air, sharing the same body heat.

“I’m grateful I didn’t go deep enough,” he whispered once the silence stretched uncomfortably. “You found me.”

For what was probably not the last time today, your eyes stung again. And yet, you opted to lift the spirits of him and yourself with a joke. It was the first thing that came to mind. “Well, you do seem to fail at slitting throats, Rick.”

You grinned up at him when he scoffed; giggled when he started to chuckle himself. The pair of you sounded as exhausted as you both looked, and when the laughter died out, you absorbed each other again. His presence was so consoling to your brain that had successfully convinced itself he was still gone, that after a length of time you realized you’d fall back asleep soon. And Rick would probably ensure you didn’t wake up alone again.

You hadn’t gotten a chance to do something, though.

Propping yourself up on your right elbow, you blinked sleep out of your heavy eyes while pulling weakly at his new arm attachment; more as a question rather than an unpermitted attempt to uncover it. “Can… can I look?”

Unease cast a shadow over his blue eyes, despite the trust in them, and he nodded. Which you’d only half expected him to do. You’d braced yourself for a no.

You would see it eventually, so he figured it was best to do it now and get it out of the way rather than prolong it.

Sitting your pillow off to lean it against the headboard, Rick adjusted and repositioned to lay on his back instead, which gave you a better opportunity to look at his hand. It was strapped on in two different places; one at the elbow, and one at the shoulder. The fingers were hyper-realistic, yet closed into a fist with no opening for a weapon to be gripped. It was almost as if he could read your mind, because Rick drew his arm away from you to demonstrate the release of a blade triggered in the wrist.

You lifted a finger to trail it along the sharp edge of the custom weaponized extension and hissed through grit teeth when it left a thin, shallow cut on your fingertip.

“I’m not getting the med kit back out.” He finished saying it with a playfully chastising call of your name.

No need to bother. You sucked the blood from the pad of your finger and threw him a drowsy smirk. “This is hot.”

That definitely caught him off guard.

“Yeah?” Rick shook his head with a dampened smile. “Well, I’m glad you see my suffering as an upgrade.”

The greatest salve for your pain was his lips on yours. Maybe it would do the same for his wounded pride.

Quite the valid reason to try it.

“Shut up.”

Your smile met his, and they stayed there even after you fell asleep again. This time, dreaming of the future.

National suicide and crisis hotline: call or text 988

Help with self harm: text CONNECT to 741741

LGBTQ+ inclusive resource: https://www.thetrevorproject.org/resources/article/support-for-self-harm-recovery/

Numbers for different parts of the world: https://blog.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines/

[chocolate-apple7]

Young Royals s3 spoilers for all 6 episodes

Alright, let's try to make this short because it's already almost midnight and I need to go to bed. (Edit: Of course it's not short, I apologize in advance)

I can't believe it's over. This has truly been a great ride and I am so thankful that we got a completed ending. I know I said I would write a fuller review when finished but now that it's over, I don't think this has to be an essay. Here are just some quick thoughts

The fandom has been pointing out that Wilhelm abdicating and August becoming king is so fitting. Because while it was the one thing he thought he wanted for the longest time, he actually realizes that losing Sara is worse. Now he has this ever ending punishment and will have to be owned by the monarchy forever while losing the love of his life. I didn't love that August became king at first but after seeing that analysis it is truly so fitting and I am fine with it!

Another brief note with August is that he actually cried so many times in this last episode (I counted 3 in the first 30 minutes alone). I am glad he was finally able to open up a little even if he did not get his ideal ending. (which I am ok with because he deserves it!) Also glad he and Wilhelm made semi peace with one another.

While I loved that Stella and Fredrika finally got together, I wish we got to see it a little more! Just because it was a bigger storyline in season 2 and I feel like those kind of stories always get tossed to the side in the end. I'm still happy they're together, I just wish it was a little more developed. I know they were short on time though and I blame Netflix for that. (This finale totally could have been an hour and a half long)

I love how the show opens with Wilhelm starting at Hillerska against his will in order to be a better crown prince and ends with the school closing and him leaving a free man. It's so fitting and I love that.

Love that Felice and Sara actually talked and rekindled their friendship. Their relationship and the friendship between Felice and Wilhelm are the ones I truly valued on this show and I am glad I got to see them end properly.

I do wish that we got a little more closure with Felice and her other friends. Like she kind of just ditched them when they went to New York. I know that they may not have fully understood her in the end but they were still her friends and they could have wrapped that up a little better.

I loved that scene at the end and all the flashbacks! I love how it is clear that Wilhelm gave up the throne for HIMSELF instead of just for Simon. You could tell that he never wanted it, even before he met Simon so that decision did not feel spontaneous and I loved it (and I was team Wilhelm stay king before this episode but of course Young Royals worked their magic in the last episode again 💜)!

I don't know where to put this but I also loved that we got to hear both of Simon's songs for Wilhelm. The one he made for his birthday and the one from last season with the improved school song. That made me so happy and Omar Rudberg's voice is so angelic!

Also side note but the Erikson's were so wishy washy in this episode. Like they both kept saying goodbye to their respective lovers then kissing them later and acting like everything was still semi normal. Like if I was Wilhelm or August during any of those scenes in the middle of the episode I would have been so confused.

I still have so many questions. Will Simon and Sara move? Where is Wilhelm going to go to school after this? Will he be able to officially abdicate this young or will he have to wait until he is 18 (I have no idea how abdicating a throne works)? Will Simon and Sara try to see their dad again? What will happen with Rosh and Ayub as I feel like their story was kind of abruptly over? Will the Queen get better or will having to train August to be king just make her even more stressed and sick? Still so many questions, but I feel like that happens with any series I finish. I have to remember that this series is just a pocket of time for these characters and they will live on past this series. I feel at peace with them and confident that their futures will be ok and to me that is all that matters.

I still have to watch the documentary and cry all over again with that. I am so glad this series exists and I promise I will stop gushing about it soon. Thank you Netflix for not letting me down for once! I hope everyone had a great time with the end of this series and all feel at peace with this story!

As always, I'm happy to have some conversations in the comments!

💜👑💜

[starwalkertales]

Fic Tag Game

Thanks for tagging me, @veloursdor!!! That is an interesting one! 😘

So, let's see...

How many works do you have on ao3?

9 at the moment, with one idea in a draft folder -- no idea, if and when I will post it.

2. What's your ao3 word count?

oh gosh, I need a calculator... 246.827, holy shit...

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star Wars -- Obikin, definitely my OTP 😍😍😍 When I was younger, I wrote for Harry Potter (years ago!) and Sherlock

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1 Heal with 590 kudos... definitely my most popular work so far. Thank again to everyone reading it and leving kudos/comments. I love you guys. Oh, in this story, Obi-Wan can't leave Anakin behind after their duel in Episode 6 of Kenobi and gets to helping him out of that suit!

2 Missing with 397 kudos in which Anakin got amnesia and flirty heavily with Obi-Wan after Rako Hardeen incident.

3 What you wish for with 334 kudos in which Obi-Wan touches a Sith holocron and develops some (for Anakin, sexy) Sith-qualities 😉

4 There is passion with 306 kudos, some sex-spice makes Obi-Wan hot for Ani...

5 Krayt's son with 253 kudos, in which Anakin is raised a Sith and meets Jedi Obi-Wan

5. Do you respond to comments?

yes, yes, I always do! I love your comments and the chats that sometimes come with them!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

My fics tend to have a happy ending... I want fluff and happy in my imagination. Life is shitty and hard enough some times...

7. What's the fic your write with the happiest ending?

Mh, all have a happy ending actually. But I think Building Dreams was really fluffy!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Just for one fic; There is passion. One person once bitched about it being Obikin, accusing it of being incest.

Luckily, nearly all other replies are very nice. I love you all fic readers and comment-writers! 😍😍😍

9. Do you write smut? What kind?

I do, not in all fics, though. It's Obikin smut. Mostly not too kinky, but I feel I should venture into that field more often...

10. Do you write cross-overs?

No.🤗

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also no. I could translate them on my own, though, but English is more common among readers than my mother tongue.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Not with Star Wars. I've done that once, years ago with a Harry Potter fic.

14. What's your all time favourite ship?

Obikin 😍😍😍

15. What's your WIP you like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Well, my longest WIP (and also oldest) is What you wish for, but I do hope I will finish it eventually!

16. What are your writing strength?

Oh, I don't know... maybe the readers could tell me, what they like the most? For me it's hard to find time to write, so whenever I am in the mood, I can write pretty much in one sitting, but often, it's hard and it takes hours to finish a page.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Write short sentences. I tend to make them too long and too complicated -- my mother tongue is to blame!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Oh, difficult question. It makes it hard to follow and I find it not very elegant to have translations in the notes below. I find it cool though, if you have one part of the dialogue in, say, Huttese, and the other part in basic (English). That way, you can guess the meaning. So, yeah, for Huttese or Mando'a, I like that for half a dialogue. I don't like it much, when I have to scroll down all the way to see translation to know what's going on.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter -- many, many years ago

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Mh, I do love Heal, because I find it fascinating to explore Vader and the suit. But I also loved Tempestas -- in which Anakin (19) traveled back in time to meet Padawan Obi-Wan (25), lots of trouble!

21. What fic would you love to rewrite some day?

Thank you @wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart for making up this great question and letting me use it, too ❤

Definetely There is Passion. I love the concept, the whole fic was born from the idea "if you ever had sex with a force sensitive, you simply cannot settle for any non sensitive person", which is really problematic for Ani to enjoy his time with Padmé after Obi... It was only my second fic and I got intimidated by criticism of it containing non-con elements. Now, I would be more confident with the whole topic and hope, I will come back to it some time and rewrite it.

Thank you so much for tagging me, I loved that!!!!

So, no idea: everyone who wants to do this and hasn't already, please be free. You are hereby tagged!

Aaaaaaaaand I am tagging people who liked this 😁 @grapenehifics @underacalicosky @wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart @mischievouschan4

[skye-huntress]

The Witch from Mercury Season 2 Reaction

Episode 20: “The End of Hope”

Ominous title

Let’s see. Norea is ready to explode, Miorine is freaking out, Guel seems hellbent on taking down Shaddiq, and Grassley Squad is making their move. Shaddiq again seems to be laying much of the blame on Guel, even though this tragedy happened as he was leaving.

Who knew Rouji of all people had mastered the art of interrogation? Or is Martin just that much of a wuss?

Who knew Lilique could get mad?!

So Suletta has finally gone back to class, but now she’s being harassed as well. Now that she is no longer the Holder and no longer Aerial’s pilot, she’s naturally an easier target.

Now Petra is being nice to Suletta. Guess saving her boyfriend scored her some points.

Guel may be learning to be a better person, but he should learn to be smarter.

Shaddiq seems out for blood now

They’ve released a pissed off witch from the basement and she’s fixing to go on a rampage. The ball is in your court, Number 5.

Looks like Chuchu’s Demi-Trainer is out for the count. They don’t have any mobile suits left.

Petra, stop talking! You’re waving so many death flags right now with the things you’re saying! She’s going to die right after I found a reason to like her, isn’t she?

If Shaddiq is openly admitting his crimes on their comms, I doubt he plans on leaving Guel or anyone else alive.

Look, Guel, you need to understand your father was a grade-A a-hole. You could have a lengthy debate over who is a worse person between him and Shaddiq.

Now Lauda knows Guel killed their father. Will either of them live long enough for that to matter?

Not the Greenhouse! Oh, that bitch done it, now!

Now Felsi is in the firing line! What am I saying? Of course, she is. Any pilots with working mobile suits with the guts to be out there is gonna be. Too bad that even if they didn’t have the school’s limiter, they’d still be hopelessly outmatched.

When Secelia decides its time to move the plot along, she delivers. A brand new mobile suit for Chuchu and the timely return of her traitorous mechanic.

Since when did Pompom Head become a thing? That’s the second person to call her that

It’s not like I don’t get Shaddiq. He is a demon of the Benerit Group’s making. I can’t even say with confidence that in his position I wouldn’t have made similar choices. He’s still crossed a line, and got innocents among both Spacians and Earthians killed. He’s also not as clever as he thinks he is, ready to blame Guel for interfering in his plans when he is the one committing crimes.

Did Guel just outsmart Shaddiq and Sabina? And he disabled their suits without killing them. Not only was that impressive, this might be his first real win in the entire show. Unfortunately it came at the cost of Norea going on a rampage but there was a solid chance it could have happened, anyway.

I begrudgingly give points to Number 5 for talking Norea down. Unfortunately, that win is short lived. Serious though, who was the dumbass who thought it was a good idea to fire on them after they stopped rampaging? And if you were going to do that, why only take out one of them when the other as far as they know is equally dangerous?

Back to Suletta, finally. Aaaaaand, yep. About what I expect. Oh , and there’s the title card!

That is such a Suletta thing to do, honestly. She used to do this kind of thing back on Mercury, too, so really, she’s falling back on what she knows. I’m also genuinely surprised that Earth House hasn’t suffered any casualties, though they’re probably going to get blamed for this, too.

[stankycowboy]

WRITER BASICS. meet the author.

ALIAS / NAME. Dhoome

BIRTHDAY. August 31st

ZODIAC. Virgo

HEIGHT. 5'6"

HOBBIES. Writing, drawing, very hobbyist film shorts, video games, board gaming, deep diving my obsessions

FAV. COLOUR. Purple? Black?

FAV. BOOK. The Gunslinger (or The Mist? I listen to it constantly.)

LAST SONG. Sick — VRSTY (blame Wilds)

LAST MOVIE / SHOW. Technically Changeling, but I was scrolling episode 7 of The Sandman, The Doll’s House ( go figure :) )

RECENT READ: The Ritual, Holly, The Sandman Universe: Nightmare Country (1-7), Nightmare Country: The Glass House (1-4), The Sandman: The Doll’s House, The Sandman: The Kindly Ones, The Sandman: Episode 7, The Doll’s House (script), Near Dark (script, assume I’m always reading it), I fairly regularly am reading my Old West Dictionary (but not cover to cover). If audiobooks count: The Sandman Audio Drama vol 1, The Luminous Dead, The Child Thief, The Gunslinger, The Drawing of the Three, The Wastelands, Doctor Sleep, Cyberpunk 2077: No_Coincidence

INSPIRATION. Well, there just happens to be this movie… Ever since @ulfhrafnx showed me Near Dark I have been obsessed. I used to be a fairly active writer, both on Tumblr and on my own, but had a long hiatus. Something about the movie clicked with me and after some encouragement I just started writing again. I get most of my general inspiration just from “supposing”. Kind of how Stephen King describes it. A scenario pops into my head and I find the first sentence, then the scene sort of unravels. Writers like King, Shirley Jackson, Clive Barker, Joe Hill, who also write with vivid imagery really spark my imagination. When someone can change my mood with a turn of phrase I find that very powerful. It may just be silly exposition on a website, but if I can make people see/feel/hear the things I describe (sorry about some of them), that is everything I want. My base inspiration for writing is projecting the scene in my mind into other people’s. I want them to get to the end, sit back and be able to have gone to that same place with me. If/when that happens, I know I can keep writing.

STORY BEHIND URL. Lady said “I’m surprised it wasn’t taken”. Honestly, they are just very key Severen words. He is The Savage One, he is a cowboy. There you have it.

tagged: @ohsunshine

tagging: I feel like everyone I know was tagged, how’sabout you just steal it if you want to do it. You have my exclusive permission.

[not-so-anonymous-scotch]

Fandom(s): Life SMP & Mindcrack SMP (flashback related) Relationship(s): Bdoubleo100 & Kurtjmac (general) Rating: G Word count: 1.2k

Bdubs has had a variety of skins. But what about the red headband? Ten years and he couldn't let go of what was now an iconic look.

A/N: this is me getting sappy nostalgia for mindcrack again and i need people to know who made Bdubs' skin. bc bdubs continued to use it and build off it forever. okay im emo. also note that as far as all old videos show me, this was bdubs' first ever alternate skin as well.

===

Bdubs parts his hair out of the way, pushing it out and over the headband pressed against his forehead. He glances to the side at the chatter of Etho and Cleo some way off, as he makes his way around the stone hill they've claimed.

“Oh Bdubs!” Scar's voice comes in, joining Bdubs near center, the place where all their materials sat. “You ready for today?”

Bdubs looked up to see Scar had changed his skin again, stifling a laugh. Not a new outfit as he was lacking half of it. The shirt, of course. “Uh, yes Scar. Yes I am.”

“What? What's funny?” Scar knew, his sentence broke with a short giggle. “Do you not like what I changed into?”

“You didn't change into anything. You just took your shirt off!” Bdubs laughed, looking to the side. He was always amused by Scar's insistence to find ways to not have a shirt in this series. Not that Bdubs couldn't do that too- it just wasn't his kind of lookthese days.

“Okay, okay true.” Scar nodded as he walked past Bdubs. “But at least I'm not using the same skin over and over!”

“Wh- what're you getting at?” Bdubs looked back over at Scar with his arms crossed. “My skin is different! Look- Look- I got more clocks, I added one last season!”

Scar squinted as he looked at Bdubs' variety of clocks. “Hmm. Okay, sure. But what about- what about the... you know like, you've had this look for a long time still. Why don't you change it up?” Bdubs looked down at himself. A different shirt, different pants, different hair. But the other parts were the same. The sling across his torso, the red--

“How long have you even had that?”

“Hm?” Bdubs glanced back up, seeing Scar pointing to his head. “Oh, the- the headband?”

“Yeah- has that- is that like, the same one every time? How old is that thing?” Scar asked, sounding suddenly more curious than accusatory about his lack of skins for the series.

“It's uh... Yeah, I guess its just the same one.” He never thought too hard about it. “I mean, as much as it can be. Thing's been stitched back together, of course. No piece of fabric can last uh- last over ten years.”

“Ten years?” Scar was sounded in awe over the simple piece of fabric. “Wow, thats- that's a long time. A very long time.”

Bdubs couldn't help but smile for a moment, just at the thought. Ten years is a long time to keep the same look. “Yeah, well. It kind of just became the look after a while. Guess it's hard to change after that long.”

“Okay-” Scar gave a short laugh, “Okay well, I guess I can't blame you for keeping it the same still. It does suit you!”

“Oh, you're too nice..” Bdubs said with a chuckle. “But you should still get a shirt for next episode, alright?”

“Okay, fine. I'll find something.”

The moment Scar pulled his attention elsewhere, Bdubs' mind went back to Scar's question. Hardly did anyone ever comment on his choice of skin. Which was a shame only in that he did have reasons for not changing his since last life. Maybe he'd talk about that at some point. Outside of that though, he just hadn't thought about it. The look- the whole look in general had been the same ever since.... forever, basically. He ran his hand over the red band, feeling the material as it had always been. Stitched, stained, sometimes barely holding itself together. It was still the same one though.

“You haven't changed yet?”

It took a moment before Bdubs turned around, but when he did he was greeted by the familiar face of Kurt. It was almost hard to notice him under the shadow of the Arena's overhang, no matter how many torches had been spammed across the walls. Bdubs was atop a makeshift tower of dirt scaffolding, fixing some misaligned stone on the walls of the Arena. He started to shimmy his way down carefully, as Kurt watched patiently.

“What's that?” Bdubs said as himself off.

Kurt's eyes ran from Bdubs' feet to his head, giving a small smile. “The, uh... you're still wearing your UHC get-up.”

“Oh.” Bdubs gave a short laugh. “Yeah I- I guess I forgot. Not a bad thing though, suits me I think!”

“Well I- I'm glad you like it at least.” Kurt glanced away shyly as he walked over. “Or I assume you like it.”

“Of course I like it!” Bdubs said it like it was obvious, giving Kurt a nudge once he was closer. “You made it and- it looks good, man! How could I not like it?”

The moment Bdubs started going off, Kurt was quickly flustered by the compliments. “Um, I.. Thank you.”

Bdubs held his gaze for a few minutes without saying anything- perhaps just giving a moment for Kurt to cool down from the nice words. But how could Bdubs not say it? He didn't have any other skins, and out of all people to make one for him, he couldn't be more happy that Kurt decided to come up with something. The striking red headband stood out. And sure, he hadn't considered going shirtless for a UHC but it made sense. Definitely. At the very least it looked cool- that's what mattered.

Eventually he moved to the nearby bleachers, sitting down and patting the spot beside him. He'd been build all day, it felt better to relax for a light conversation.

“What made you made you pick the red?”

Kurt was slightly distracted, blinking to look back at Bdubs when he spoke again. “The red headband?”

“Yeah, yeah- you 'n Doc were blue, looked good- I was just wonderin'.” Bdubs paused as he too thought about it for a moment. “Not complaining, of course.”

“Ah well.” Kurt started, pursing his lips as he too went to think. He wasn't sure he actually had a deeper reason for it. “It uh, you know.. I just think it... stands out more? I think its... It's recognizable.”

“It does...! It does stand out.” Bdubs chuckled, leaning with his hand on his chin as he looked at Kurt.

Kurt wasn't good at making conversation really, and especially when it focused on his work. Talking up about himself wasn't easy, more so when Bdubs was all the more happy to throw compliments back at him all the time. It was much appreciated still.

“I love it though. I think I'll use it next season too.” Bdubs glanced away briefly in thought.

Kurt blinked at him. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah! Maybe again after that.” He grinned as he continued, “Maybe for every season? I don't think I'll need a new one.”

Kurt couldn't help but blush at the gesture. “O.. oh, well. I wouldn't be upset if you got a different one at some point...”

“No, no I couldn't..!” Bdubs waved, dismissing the idea. “Like I said, it suits me well!”

Kurt was silent for a moment, unable to find a response to Bdubs' thoughtful words. “Yes, I.. I think it does suit you well.”

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #304: "... Yearning to Breathe Free!"

June, 1989

Vs. the U-Foes! Special guest appearance by the pouncing PUMA!

Look at the roster box trying to pretend Reed and Sue are still around. You can't fool me.

And, hey, the U-Foes! They're a quirky miniboss squad that hasn't fought the Avengers so far, at least not in the Avengers book. Which feels weird!

The Avengers should fight all the quirky miniboss squads. They're practically made to fight all the quirky miniboss squads.

Well, now they get to fight this one.

And Puma is a guy. I don't really know the guy. He's a mid-80s Spider-Man book guy.

Also also, this is very clearly a fill-in issue. I mean, so was the Super-Nova arc. But that had the goal of writing Reed and Sue out of the Avengers, which it couldn't even manage.

This one seems to be more in the style of one and done, spin the wheels until John Byrne takes over.

... That's happening a lot lately.

Last times in Avengers: long story short, the team broke apart but a new team formed during the X-Event Inferno. And then after fighting a big guy from space, 2/5ths of the new team fucked off.

This is a fill-in, you don't gotta know a lot.

Huh. The opening splash waxes poetic about Ellis Island and the title is a line from the New Colossus poem that was written for the Statue of Liberty.

Will this be a Very Special Episode about immigration? I'm sorta not confident in this era of Avengers to do a Very Special Episode.

Least surprisingly of all, the terrific trio of Avengers are at Ellis Island because it's being renovated and a Department of the Interior pal got Captain America permission for a special preview visit.

Steve Rogers is, of course, a huge fan of Ellis Island and immigration and just all the good America stuff. He loves America so much.

And being a huge nerd, he invited Thor and Gilgamesh along as a kind of casual relaxing activity after all that Super-Nova biz.

Thor: "I, myself, Steve, am an immigrant of sorts -- from eternal Asgard. I share much in spirit with those who passed through here."

Dammit, Thor. I don't think your situation is really the same since you retain whatever counts as citizenship in Asgard and freely go back and forth whenever you want to live in a giant castle.

Also, you have a fake identity set up by the American intelligence community which most immigrants don't get.

Gilgamesh calls Ellis Island meager compared to the cool architecture that the Eternals are used to. But adds "there is an aura of greatness all about" which may or may not have just been to cushion the insult.

While the heroes in civilian duds wander around and look at construction, they overhear one of the workmen muttering anti-immigrant sentiments to himself.

Charles Little Sky: "'Noble immigrants.' Hah! Nobody wants to admit the real truth."

Oh, no, we are in for a Very Special Episode.

Captain America being Captain America even when he's being Steve Rogers, decides this is an invitation to a conversation and asks the guy to elaborate on his thoughts.

Charles Little Sky: "Yeah, I've got a beef, mister, why shouldn't I? I'm an American Indian!" Thor, in glasses: "And...?" Charles Little Sky: "And my people were here long before anybody. These 'immigrants' who came through here were just another group to come and take my people's land... Just like foreigners, starting with the Mayflower, have always done! This place should be called the Museum of Theft!" Captain Steve: "I understand your bitterness, son. Injustice was done to your people. But those who came through here certainly weren't to blame. They were just looking for a refuge from poverty and oppression themselves."

Captain America makes bold stand: pilgrims bad, immigrants good.

I hope the Avengers don't just bother this dude all day.

Thor, in glasses, asks why Charles works here if he hates it so much but, c'mon, everybody needs to eat and not everyone has a palace in a magical sky realm or gets paid $1000 smackeroos a week by Tony Stark.

Charles also mentions that he can't afford to be choosy about jobs that don't ask a lot of questions. Then realizes he's oversharing with strangers and just teal deers it as he needs the job and he's gone once he has enough money saved up.

Then he spots HIM! He's been found by HIM!

And runs off, to the Avengers' confusion.

Then a sharp-dressed man in a bolo tie tells them its none of their business, stay out of it, and yells for Charles to stop running away because he means him no harm.

Then the man transforms into some kind of furry and chases after Charles.

Pretty much guaranteeing the Avengers are going to get involved after all. Because a dude turned into a furry right there in Ellis Island and chased after a terrified young adult.

Also, the dude is Thomas Fireheart, aka Puma.

But do the Avengers know that?

Yes. And they don't know if Puma is a hero or a threat or a menace. So definitely decide to get involved.

Thor slams his hammer to put on his working duds while Cap duck behind something to change his clothes.

He shouts at Puma to hey maybe explain what he's up to. And since Puma ignores him, Thor throws his mighty hammer. And when Thor throws his mighty hammer, its because he's done with the yammer. Or something.

Since Thor wasn't throwing at 'turn Puma into salsa' force, the cat man is able to jump over the hammer and yell that Thor better not delay him!

That's not an explaining himself though so Captain America throws his mighty shield. But instead of yield, Puma catches the shield and throws it back.

What a jerk!

Gilgamesh, who I guess hasn't decided whether he's going to get involved or not because he's just standing around, jumps in front of the shield so nobody else less tough gets hit by it. And Cap catches it when it bounces off Gilgamesh's gilgapecs.

With this exchange of violence exchanged, Cap asks Puma again to explain things.

Since Thor and Captain America are standing in his way, he actually does.

Puma: "The youth and I are both of the same tribe. He possesses great power -- power that could unleash itself at any time! My uncle -- our tribal shaman -- realized this. He sent me to retrieve Charles, so that he could be trained in the power's use... for his own -- and for the world's -- good."

See, was that so hard?

The two Avengers happened to catch Puma right when he was like five feet from catching Charles Little Sky because the young adult is just right there. In the scene.

He insists that he doesn't have powers, that the elders are just making shit up to prevent him from leaving the tribe.

And sure, he has headaches sometimes and they make him act weird sometimes but that doesn't mean he has powers!

Thor and Cap pause to ponder this. Charles Little Sky is clearly hiding something. And Puma is a dubious source because while he very heroically fought the Beyonder once, he's also a mercenary who has worked for some shady customers.

But while Thor and Cap ponder what to do, Puma makes the decision, in his mind a tough decision but for the greater good, to escalate the conflict and endanger by-standers. Rather than risk the Avengers deciding against him.

So he rushes off (while Thor and Cap just watch) and topples one of the tall scaffolding towards a crowd.

Sure that the Avengers will jump to deal with that and backburner him. Which they do. Good job saving lives, the heroes!

Thor wind-blasts the scaffolding toward Gilgamesh, who catches it. Cap ushers civilians towards the exit.

Leaving Puma free to pounce on Charles Little Sky.

Puma again states that he's just here to be a helpful helper man but Charles says crock to that. He tries to punch Puma but only hurts his own hand.

Apparently, breaking a knuckle punching a cat man is one of the triggers for Charles' great world-threatening power.

Light and kirby crackle burst out of Charles and he feels as if he's being torn apart.

Then, he's blasted back as a rift in space opens.

And out of the rift in space-time strolls the U-Foes!

Not a surprise, since they were on the cover, but hey! The plot is here!

Real quick: The U-Foes. They're like an evil Fantastic Four. In that there's four of them and they got their powers from cosmic rays. By explicitly copying the Fantastic Four's space trip. Two of them are even siblings. Do these guys fight the FF a lot because they're a better evil opposites than the Frightful Four.

Vector: the one with all the lines and suns on his design. He has telekinesis, which often manifests as repulsing lasers.

Vapor: she's a gas lady, made of gas. She can turn into any kind of gas.

X-Ray: he's pink and looks like a really weird bunch of perspective lines. A guy made out of energy. Can blast various kinds of heavy radiation.

Ironclad: big tough guy made of mineral. He's a pretty blatant the Thing or a Colossus but he can increase or decrease his weight so he's at least got that going on.

So, why did the U-Foes pop out of a portal?

Why, the power of retcons and a shared universe!

Sometimes, a book writes out a character. Has them die or depowers them or just puts them in a situation where they're not available.

And then another book will go "and here's how they got out of that one."

It can be interesting to trace a character through various books, trying to figure out what the hell has been going on with them.

In the U-Foes' case, the Hulk trapped them in different dimensions that counteracted their powers. And possibly killed them.

But they all survived and managed to assemble in the dimensional crossroads to luckily get brought back to Earth by one random portal.

Nothing like a classic contrived comic coincidence.

Anyway, having just gotten back from tailor-made space exile/death, Vector is quite enraged when the Avengers propose to just capture the U-Foes and send them to jail, for being dicks.

Vector blasts Thor, Gilgamesh (still just in his civvies) Captain America, Puma, and Charles Little Sky outside through a window.

Puma is worried because he heard from TV news that the U-Foes were powerful enough to knock around the Hulk. They might kill the Avengers and any civilian in their way!

Buuuuut... he is only here for Charles Little Sky. Opening a random portal that random supervillains fell out of proved to Puma that portal kid is the biggest threat.

Maybe he should just let the U-Foes kill the Avengers!

Is his thought process.

Dammit, Puma.

Anyway, Thor tells the U-Foes that they brought the inevitable beat-down on themselves by blasting him through a window.

So X-Ray blasts Thor. Ironclad slugs Gilgamesh, figuring that if he's hanging out with the Avengers, he's probably one. And Vector blasts Captain America.

Puma goes wow sucks for them that they're getting their asses kicked but at least now nobody will get in my way.

Except Vector and Vapor notice him running away and decide, nah.

The U-Foes have deduced that Charles Little Sky could portal them back to the dimensional crossroads so they need to do something about him. And that means getting him before Puma can.

Vapor turns into carbon monoxide and gives Puma carbon monoxide poisoning.

Vector tells Vapor to turn to chlorine gas and just murderify Charles Little Sky.

Puma belatedly realizes that the better idea would have been to team up with the Avengers to beat the U-Foes. Womp womp.

He decides he needs to buy time for the Avengers to recover from their asses getting beat by getting his own ass beat for a while.

Puma tries to jump between Charles and Vapor.

... But she's gas. How does that work? I mean, it doesn't, in this case. But that's because Ironclad shows up and starts trying to bear-hug him to death.

Then Ironclad get's KLONG! by Mjolnir slightly before Puma gets crushed to death.

It's Thor! Turns out one blast of radiation isn't enough to put him down, obviously.

And he whirls Mjolnir really fast to blow Vapor away from the unconscious Charles Little Sky.

Charles regains consciousness to see X-Ray try to french fry him, only to be stopped by Captain America tackling him.

Even through (or around?) Captain America's mighty shield, he can feel the burn from the radiation X-Ray is putting off.

Vector decides he'll kill the kid himself but Puma jump kicks him towards Thor who clobbers him.

Charles is so freaked out by all of this that his powers start going off again, opening portals to random dimensions, some filled with aaaaaah, real monsters!

Gilgamesh deduces from earlier that Charles' powers don't work if he's unconscious so he eye beams Charles Little Sky unconscious.

Cool contribution, Gilgamesh.

Wait, you have eye beams?

Ironclad tries to throw a Big Rock on the again unconscious Charles Little Sky but Gilgamesh uses his eye beams again to blow up the Big Rock.

Ironclad decides fuck this actually and runs away off-panel.

Vector and X-Ray try to double-team Thor and they have him stalemated by blasting him full power. He can't advance but he's not retreating either.

But in secret, Thor is just face-tanking Vector's telekinesis blasts and using Mjolnir to absorb X-Ray's radiation. Not just the radiation X-Ray is blasting but all the radiation in his body. And when X-Ray passes out from too drained, Thor blasts the radiation at Vector who also falls down.

Possibly with turbo cancer now.

Puma's puma senses detect an invisible lethal gas floating towards Charles so Thor blasts the spot with lightning until Vapor passes out.

Ironclad is still running away

So Captain America trips him with his mighty shield and Gilgamesh decks him in the face BWOM!

With the U-Foes kicked firmly in the butt, Puma rerails the plot to him definitely taking Charles Little Sky back to the tribe.

Captain America says that Charles might be a mutant and there's just a bunch of mutant teams that could train him to control his powers. The tribe isn't the only place he could learn control.

Rather than drag him back against his will, Charles should be given the choice where he will go.

Puma: "And if he chooses no training? If he chooses to continue on the run? It is a danger to the world I cannot allow. Nor can I risk strangers training him incorrectly. Allow me to take him... or I will fight you to the death."

Gilgamesh points out that the death would be Puma's death. There's two god-tier dudes here. And Thor says that Charles will decide for himself.

Charles wakes up and he decides for himself to flee.

Puma tries to leap at Charles but Captain America tackles him.

Thor instead jumps in front of Charles to cut him off but Charles shouts that he's not anyone's property and he wants to be free.

IN A RANDOM DIMENSION IF HE CAN'T BE FREE ON EARTH.

Yeah, he fucks off through a portal.

Despite being a character created for a fill-in story, Charles Little Sky has a small pile of appearances.

Danny Fingeroth brings him back for a bunch of Darkhawk issues but he gets roles beyond that.

Puma: "Thor -- you fool! You've let a being of untold power get away! He could be anywhere now, hurting or being hurt, frightened, alone. Most probably, though, he'll soon be dead!"

Thor points a finger right back. Saying this all happened because Puma decided he was in far too much a rush to explain the situation to the random superhero bystanders.

That relentlessly chasing the kid is obviously what triggered his portal powers going off and letting the U-Foes come through and cause trouble.

Puma retorts that, hey, hindsight is 20-20 but he still thinks he did zero things wrong and that it's all the Avengers' fault.

Captain America says they only have Puma's word that his intentions were good and Puma has a really mixed reputation so it's really hard to take him at his word.

Thor suggests they beat up Puma and Puma fucks off through the broken window, yelling they'll have to catch him first.

Except, the Avengers don't even bother.

There's no charges against him and he eventually helped them against the supervillains.

Left behind to deal with sending the U-Foes to super jail, the Vault, Captain America muses how Charles Little Sky "who was so bitter about immigrants... ended up being, himself, an immigrant in a new dimension. And he entered it through Ellis Island."

That's really deep, Cap. Really makes you think, probably.

Thus ends a Very Special Episode of the Avengers.

Follow @essential-avengers because next East Coast Avengers issue, its Byrne time. Like, reblog, comment, maybe.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Can we get another shy reader x Deacon fic? Like they're really good friends and he's super protective of her (yeees it's the good old friends to lovers trope). Because he's so super cute with her their colleagues always teasing Deacon because of his big soft spot for reader. One day during a case she gets poisoned and it's touch and go (like in 1x19 when Chris nearly dies of the poison). And can we see reader's recovery from the attack, like she can only be discharged when there's someone helping her and she's super sad because she has no family who can care for her but than Deacon gets her discharged because he takes her to his home to help her recover. It breaks his heart to see her this weak, the poison is taking a toll on her. She suffers from severe headaches and dizziness and that the reason why she was not allowed to be alone at home cause it's to dangerous. And she's nauseous and suffers from shortness of breath for days. Deacon does everything to help her but he also blames himself for not protecting her.

You're my favorite writer. My love for your swat fics is endless. Wish you a fantastic day💋

Oh my gosh!!!!! So, one, this idea is absolutely amazing and I had a ton of fun writing it!! I don't know if you've seen some of my past posts where I mentioned that 1x19 was my favorite episode, but it's still one of my top 3 favorites, and I really enjoyed using that episode as inspiration! Thank you for the great request!!🤍

However, what really caught my attention was your kind words at the end! Thank you!!!!!! I am glad you enjoy my stories and the idea that I'm your favorite writer is insane, but I can't even tell you how happy this made me, so thank you! I hope you have a fantastic day, too, and enjoy this story!!🫶🏼

Here it is: Every Day After

(If you need additional proof that I enjoyed writing this, check the word count🤭 It was just such a good idea that I couldn't resist!)

[starflake-burning]

I saw @antimony-medusa doing ao3 stats, and since I have not made very many og posts on this blog after making a new multifandom blog, I'm using this as a opportunity to update everyone here on what I posted this year to ao3 :)

I'm going to be blatantly ripping off Medusa's format for this.

Overall stats for 2023

--User Subscriptions: 119

--Kudos: 5,606

--Comment Threads: 306

--Bookmarks: 1,618

--Subscriptions: 846

--Word Count: 174,435

--Hits: 64,821

Everything is almost the same, except for a decrease in kudos. That makes perfect sense since I wrote a couple of rarepairs in fandoms that are less hyped about multishipping.

My user subscriptions have basically stayed the same since I started posting, likely because I organize fics down into different series so that people can sub to those instead.

Fun Stats:

Total number of fics published: 40

This was my most prolific year of fic writing! For reference, my total number of fics posted EVER is 53. I wrote a lot of short fics as treats for two different extreme timed challenge exchanges. I also got into several new fandoms this year.

Number of One-shots: 24

There's the exchange fics coming in clutch! And also the bushel of smutshots (oneshots that are pwp) that I wrote for new fandoms I got into and got very excited about writing smut for.

Number of Multichapters (Including WIPs): 14

Some oneshots become twoshots. Some multichapters had planned chapter counts and many did not.

Number of WIPs (aka unfinished works): 4

Of these, one is the most recent fic I have posted, which is being actively written and updated. One is being co-written with someone else. And the others are one hiatus.

Number of Inspired Works: 1

My total number of inspired works ever is 2. Fortunately or unfortunately, I have plenty of ideas to work with on my own.

Longest Fic: Stealing Candelabras (10,797).

Most of my works this year were under 10k, and a lot of them were even under 1k. I started the year short and ended it long. And I anticipate writing much more longfic this year. This one was long because I love vampires and making up vampire lore.

Shortest Fic: shifting eyes and vacancy, vanished when i saw your face (476). A very cute prompt that I had to fill. Title courtesy of my partner's suggestion, since they love the song so much :)

Most Kudosed fic: On the Twelfth Day of Christmas My Twin Sons Gave to Me: The Child Spy of My Enemy (586).

:/ Ah yes the last vesitges of my Dark SBI era. Not my favorite thing I've written, but it has it's audience.

The second most kudosed is The Care and Keeping of Your Vash (406). I love you trigun fandom <3

Most Viewed Fic: Same as most kudosed! But those stats do build up over time so I'm gonna highlight my fifth most view fic that was only posted a couple months ago as opposed to almost a year ago: When I'm On the Throne it's a Total Freak Zone (3,366). My second foray into exploring a character being a soft dom.

Most Subscribed Fic: Same as the most kudosed and most viewed. To be fair it had the format of the twelve day countdown to Christmas, so it hooked people into sticking around.

Most Bookmarked Fic: Same one again. My second most bookmarked was Shot Through the Heart, and You're to Blame (110). Arguably my best trigun fic, I love writing monsterfucker porn, especially as part of a larger canon divergent au. Double points for also getting to write a trans headcanon.

Most Used Fandom: Dream SMP, at 13. But if you combine all the fics for books by the same author (MXTX), it comes out to 12, which is pretty close!

Least Used Fandom: There's a couple I've only written one work for so...

1. Big Dragon the Series. This is a tiny fandom for a BL drama that I am co-writing a fic for. If you go searching for this show MIND THE WARNINGS. It is very intense from episode one so proceed with caution.

2. SMP Earth. I wish I got into this fandom when it was more popular, Now I don't know where to find the stream archives to get into the lore :(

3. Supernatural. I came back to this fandom this year only to post a trans character study of Dean and then leave it again lol.

Most Used Rating: E, 15 fics.

Like I said, I wrote a lot of smutshots lol. Second place is Teen, at 11 fics.

Least Used Rating: Mature, 0. Alternatively, Gen, at 9.

None of my fics are rated Mature this year because I discovered the wonders of smut and I can no longer do things by halves.

Most Written Relationship: Still SBI, but Quackbur is a close second.

Most Used Additional tag: I can't be bothered to look through all of this year's fics right now, but for the E rated ones I'm 90% sure it's Biting. As I've been quoted saying "biting is sexy!"

Most Frequently Used Characters: Again, SBI wins out. Though I think of all of them I have more fics with Techno than the others. (Again, too lazy to look through 40 fics right now lol).

Hopefully this was fun for someone else, because it certainly was illuminating for me. I'm much more active on my @cosmic-starfall blog nowadays but I'm still doing mcyt stuff occasionally here as well :)

[destielshippingnews]

Edvard's Supernatural Guide: 2x07 The Usual Suspects

This analysis is short because I have very little to say about this episode. It is not a bad one, but neither does it especially interest me nor give me much to talk about. It does nothing to advance the overall plot of the series and is not connected to the mythos in any way. My main take-away is wondering what a filler episode of The X-Files is doing in the middle of my Supernatural. I still do not care for a police presence or trouble-with-the-law storylines in my supernatural dramas (Charmed was terrible for that), and I honestly considered skipping this one because it simply does not do much for me. That said, I am glad I chose to watch it because there are some positive aspects to it.

To give a brief summary of the plot, Dean and Sam are arrested in Baltimore after Dean is found with a murdered woman while investigating her husband’s murder. The ghost of a dead woman keeps appearing to people who are soon murdered. One of the policemen leading the case is determined to pin the murder on Dean, while the policewoman has her doubts. Eventually, the policewoman and Sam find out that the real killer is the policeman who was involved with drug and murdered people to cover his tracks. Sam and the policewoman manage to save Dean from becoming the policeman’s scapegoat at the last minute, and the truth finally lets Dean go free.

One of the things I liked most about this episode was the fact that Dean and Sam were both shown as intelligent and competent, and managed to work together as a team to get themselves out of a predicament even though they were separated and had extremely limited means of communication. Furthermore, there was no snarking, bitching, or poisonous behaviour from Sam, and Dean’s jokes about Sam being the ‘red-headed woman’ did not seem like the abused partner in the brotherhood lashing out (although I am not quite sure what the relevance of Scully being a red-haired woman is, but it was probably an American writer’s attempt at a lame ginger joke. By which I mean the joke was lame AND ginger jokes are lame).

If this were the first and only episode of the show I ever watched, I could easily buy into the idea that Dean and Sam are a reasonably healthy, functioning duo who care about each other equally and have each other’s back. Sam’s sole motivation in finding the truth was to exonerate his brother, and in spite of the opportunities given to him, point-blank refused to even consider the notion of betraying Dean to the police. I actually liked Sam in this episode, and I have decided that 2x07!Sam is the only valid Sam.

Add to that the fact that Dean is not once demeaned, embarrassed, or misunderstood by the writer, and I am happy with this episode’s portrayal of the brothers. It gets no complaints from me whatsoever. Little things which some might have missed are the fact that Dean and Sam apparently discuss their alibis together before breaking into buildings, if Diana’s comment that ‘both their stories match’ is to be believed. They also have codes for communicating which take others a while to get if at all, such as Dean’s note to Sam referring to The Great Escape as a cue to escape.

Well done on those counts, Cathryn Humphries. It is just a shame I do not think this episode belongs in Supernatural.

Something worth remembering is that Dean’s rights have been taken away from him through no fault of his own. He was innocent of the killings he was blamed for in 1x06 Skin, being made into the fall-guy partially through a combination of Sam’s stupidity, Sam’s privileged upper-middle class university friend, and of course the shapeshifter. ...whom the police found dead whilst morphed into Dean. How could ‘Dean’ have faked his death when the police had his body? Anyway, because of this, Dean is cut off from participation in normal society due to being held accountable for other people’s actions (which Sam smirked at, remember), and he is at the policeman’s mercy. He is ‘just another scumbag’, another victim rendered powerless to save himself at the end. Being the sacrifice for other people is always Dean’s role, but at least this once he was saved before things got bad, and there was no Bad Ass snark from Sam after rescuing Dean, either. Well done, writer. Well done.

Some of the less good aspects of the episode were a few plot conveniences which stretched my suspension of disbelief. One of these is that Inspector Shady would give the same necklace to the woman he murdered as he did to Diana, especially since the necklace was a rare custom make. It was also strange that Dean did not hear the police enter the house and catch him with the woman’s dead body. The house was silent and Dean is trained to keep his wits about him, so this felt a bit too convenient, especially considering how well he managed to keep himself calm and collected at the sight of the body. He had clearly been in that situation before, so what was different that time?

Also worth pondering is why Claire (the death omen) did not appear to Dean in the van before Inspector Shady tried to kill him. She appeared to everybody Shady killed in advance to try warning them, but not to Dean. Is this a plot hole? I am not sure. Is there any way Claire could have known Dean would not die, and so did not need to warn him? Or was there iron in the van which she could not get through? That did not stop the Woman in White in 1x01 Pilot and it will not stop Tricia Helfer in 2x16 Roadkill, so why would it stop Claire?

That almost finishes things for this analysis (my shortest to date), but before then, there were two moments in this episode which set ADHD bells ringing in my head. The first was Dean making silly noises whilst sitting waiting for Sam to do his research on the computer...

and the second was his attempts at conversation with Inspector Shady in the van at the end. The way the writer intended it was likely Dean trying to be cocky or snarky in the face of death, perhaps to cover up his fear, but the way Jensen delivered his lines did not portray that. I got the nervousness and fear, but no sense of cockiness.

His comment ‘Another pee-break? You might want to get your prostate examined’ sounded like a little ADHD boy (or an autistic boy) who has so many thoughts in his head and is trying to have a conversation with somebody who just is not listening and does not care. The lack of ‘natural’ intonation in his voice while saying it also sounds like a person with ADHD or autism trying to make a joke and failing spectacularly.

As for the confession tape, it was better than any profile I have ever seen on Tinder, Grindr, Gaydar, or Planet Romeo. To be honest, that is a low bar, but praise where praise is due.

One final note before I finish: many have noted that Dean is frequently put in situations usually (or ‘traditionally’) reserved for female characters, i.e. helplessness, disarmed, and in need of being saved. Most of this is due to the fact that the show’s two leads are both male and one of them needs to be in danger sometimes for dramatic purposes, but it is Dean more frequently than Sam, e.g. being a sacrificial offering in 1x11 Scarecrow, being Max’s hostage in 1x14 Nightmare, being ‘bait’ for the vampires in 1x20 Dead Man’s Blood etc. Whilst I am sure more than one person has written several thousand words on ‘deconstructing concepts of masculinity’ or something else which talks about men as if we are animals to be observed in a zoo, I do not think it is much deeper than this: Sam has to be shown to be The HeroTM because he is The Protagonist, and the corollary is that Dean has to be the damsel.

Paula R. Stiles commented on this in her analysis of this same episode, and I quote:

We see again here the show’s tendency to place the macho, hypermasculine male lead in a role normally reserved for a female lead

The reason I raised this is because ‘hypermasculinity’ does not mean what some people seem to think it means, i.e. masculine. Hypermasculinity is an actual term used in sociology and psychology to refer to a certain set of traits in a certain kind of man. Think, for example, of gangsters. The Encyclopaedia Britannica gives the following definition:

hypermasculinity, sociological term denoting exaggerated forms of masculinity, virility, and physicality. Scholars have suggested that there are three distinct characteristics associated with the hypermasculine personality: (1) the view of violence as manly, (2) the perception of danger as exciting and sensational, and (3) callous behavior toward women and a regard toward emotional displays as feminine.

None of those criteria applies to Dean. Dean is not ‘hypermasculine’: he is adept at enacting violence, but he does not view it as ‘manly’; he does not find danger exciting, it is simply a necessary part of his life (except during his self-destructive episodes); he is not ‘callous’ towards women, and he does show emotions other than ‘anger’. ‘Hypermasculine’ is a bad descriptor of Dean: he is masculine. Using words which mean things to refer to things they do not mean. Hypermasculine is gangsters and thugs, it’s not a man acting like a masculine man. They are very different things and I wish people would stop conflating the two.

(For further discussion of Dean and masculinity, you can read my essay entitled Deancrits, don't @ me

Thus concludeth my analyis of 2x07 The Usual Suspects.

One final final thing:

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 180

Freaks and Geeks/Asylum of the Daleks

“Freaks and Geeks”

Plot Description: Sam and Dean investigate some recent vampire kills and are surprised to learn that teenage hunter Krissy Chambers is involved

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: No non-supernatural-beings died, so thankfully I’m not a vampire

Dean’s so protective of everyone he adopts as a younger sibling. Bet this will IN NO WAY tie in to the trials Sam’s going through at the end of the episode

Ugh, I don’t like this guy in Krissy’s hunting team

It’s very funny to watch the differences between these teens way of hunting and the Winchesters’ way…and what resources each group has and can make use of. Yeah, the kids have the technology, but…….not saying the boys are rich by any stretch of the imagination, but they have access to money in ways these kids don’t

I’m fascinated by the two sides in this Krissy v Dean argument…they’re so alike.

This house is absolutely dreamy…

Ok so I was wrong about the resources thing. This dude Victor is providing them with all they could need to be hunters but also…almost normal teens, hunting aside

You shut up about Garth, Victor

Wait. Does Dean think that Victor see all this up? That…somehow the vampires aren’t to blame for all this?? I wouldn’t be super surprised

Is the blue van hoodie guy working with Victor?? Creating vampires for these kids to hunt? Fuck. Looks like it

What the fuuuuuuuuuuuuck. No. Victor had all these kids’ families killed by a vampire to get the kids to start hunting, then recruited the kids, had the vampire turn others INTO vampires as easy kills for the kids as part training, part manipulation (telling them these newly made vamps were responsible for their families’ deaths even though they couldn’t be). That’s fucked up.

Well, I suppose that’s ONE way to resolve how to deal with Victor

Krissy just told Dean he wasn’t so bad for an old guy…Now, I’ve kind of lost track of how old Dean is supposed to be, what with “do his four months in hell and full year in purgatory count as time being ALIVE??”, but Jensen at this point is a year younger than I am now. And so that feels like a bit of a gut punch, but also Krissy’s like 16. I’m glad she sees someone twenty years her senior as old. That’s fine

Oh no. Oh actually ok. I ALSO thought Dean was gonna give that guy the “I’ll kill you if you ever hurt her” speech…jokes on both of us, Krissy will kill that kid if he ever hurts her

“Asylum of the Daleks”

Plot Description: when the Doctor is kidnapped by his oldest foe, he is forced on an impossible mission

That IS the way to kidnap the Doctor though…make him believe there is someone in need of help

Karen I’m so sorry I paused at this second. You’re still so pretty

I’m not ready to see Amy and Rory separated…now divorced, as long as the paperwork gets turned in

But, uh, the Daleks took them too

That’s…a LOT of Daleks…

But truly……..yeah, I’d be confused too, were I the last Time Lord and being asked to save the Daleks

CLARA!! (I know she’s Oswin or whatever in this episode but 😝)

The Daleks have such absolutely CUTTING lines. Nothing the Doctor says to them even COMPARES. He just told them his disgust in them has somehow deepened because they won’t kill Daleks they can’t control because of their exquisite hatred. And how terrible it is they find hatred beautiful. And the Prime Minister of the Daleks goes “maybe that’s why we’ve never been able to kill you” like…I am KICKING MY FEET

Rory, I love you. He can somehow find it in himself to be fair to the Daleks’ plan to fire the Doctor at a planet and expect him to fix it. Yes. That’s exactly his M.O. but should you say that?? Questionable

This guy’s a Dalek too, right??

The way it’s so obvious NOW that Oswin/Clara is a Dalek, but it was such a good twist back then

The way Rory always gets the short end of the stick…gets fired onto a planet and blasted to the core of it, it seems, and into a room of Daleks

It took you scanning them with your screwdriver to be able to see that they’re dead??

Amy lost her get out of being a dalek free bracelet…..doesn’t Rory end up giving his to her??

Ahhhhhh Rory…no. Why/how’d you wake them all up???

God…literally all the signs are there. Amy seeing the Daleks the way they’re seeing themselves instead of as Daleks

I know I should be grateful for a bigger budget for this show but…I miss the low quality version

Omggggggggggggg. You say cold and logical but you’re talking about how much love you have for Amy, Rory.

Why was this time period the big era of “I can’t have kids so I’m not good enough/not enough of a woman/etc etc etc” in media? Maybe I can only think of two instances (this and the MCU) but damn, those were and still are big properties

How bad did she get that she had to be put into a room past the intensive care Daleks and then also chained down???

Omg she erased ALL the memories the Daleks have of the Doctor

I really thought the Amy and Rory drama lasted at least one more episode but I’m not mad

[les-maisons-toutes-pareilles]

04/12/2022 - it's been a while

Last entry was 30th of November. No really consistency. I bring it up again, I guess it must bother me, or maybe just the fact that I wanted to write everyday and in the end didn't? Then again considering myself it's more or less an impossible task for me, I'm doing better than I did before. Though I shouldn't abandon, I'm doing good with this diary.

So what happened ? On Friday I had a long day after a short night and then I went out to run with my mum for an charity event. I have not run in a loong time, only bicycle and just to go and get from my school and some errands. I did pretty good though, 8,5 km. I was so exhausted though. Then I spent the whole of Saturday studying and writing down my notes and then again on Sunday with a little more lax and also I slept in late. I have quite a few exams this week, idk how I feel about them. Tomorrow is...well I could say in the hands of god but i don't believe in it.

Things is I spend so much time studying that I have little time to do much else. I have not really been able to continue the comics I was reading, or start the book I've had for months now, or even catch a little bit of an episode from a show. I mainly just listen to music because I can do that and keep working on school stuff. It feels a little alienating, though I know I have to because it's school, I still try to find some time to do things.

The cat I was hoping to meet got adopted which yay for her ! It's a good thing I made clear in my mind that as long as I don't have a real liking for any of them on the picture then I wouldn't mind who gets adopted before I get to meet them. What counts is how they'll react to me when I meet them and the ones that are there then. Of course I'm a little sad because she was gorgeous and I would have loved to have her home, I daydreamed a little but I'm allowed to be sad, as long as I don't drown in it. Saying that I'm sad already does a lot.

And finally, I had a little...weak moment ? I was thinking about my ex friends and how long we've been apart. Thing is I've not talked to one of them for a month and the other the last message I sent (not one they answered) was about 2.5 weeks ago. I don't think it's a good idea to talk again right now, or at least not for December (too much happening with the exams, the new job, the holidays etc), but I was thinking maybe January ? It'll be about 2 months after I last really talked to anyone of them. I know people are not forgotten that easily (well...talking for myself really haha) but you can move on pretty quickly if you have 0 interaction with them, and I have no interaction with them. So I've been thinking and a few thoughts got out :

They might have moved on, the 3 of them. We are barely acquaintances at this point I guess, and I wouldn't blame them (as I said, 0 interaction). So is it a good idea to contact them again ? As much as I had fun times with them I have a hard time believing we were actually friends ? Not in a bad way, but in a I-never-felt-like-their-friend way. It's a weird situation where I have strong memories of feelings I'd associate with good friends but at the same time they feel like sort of strangers to me. So it would be like building it all up again but from the ground, with better foundations.

Do I really want to be their friends ? I am mostly motivated by memories and sparce moments, but do I want to be their friends ? I know I interacted with them a lot because they were friends with my one friend there (the same way you interact with the friends of your friend at a stranger's party). Thing is I try to be a generous and kind person as much as I can. I try to treat everyone well so I don't have that many bad interactions but then everyone I talk to is pretty much nice so...where does the line about being friend is ? I have trouble with that one. There are people at school I'm on good terms with, I even work with them etc but I wouldn't call them for anything too personal, or to talk about the randoms of my life. If this is what I go with then I guess we only really talked in the genral group. From what I understand they all had private conversations between them, I didn't, not really. So was it friendship then ? Or was I just being socially correct and nice? And then, do I want to be friends with them ? Before I try anything or ask them, I should have some sort of understanding on that matter myself.

And there's always the problem of that person. I don't know how to deal with that still. Do I want them as my friend or is it some weird attachment or memories of good feelings I'm trying to get back like a junkie ?

I'm weirdly concerned with doing the right and good thing, I don't know if all of this is really healthy but no one reads this and it does take a little off my back to write these interrogations I have.

Listening to : Second star to the right by Jon Sarta

[marvel-trash-bin]

Taking Risks.

(Not my Gif.)

Summary: Zemo gives you what he thinks you deserve. *Some TFATWS Ep. 3 Spoilers.*

Pairing: Zemo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Smut for days baby. Dirty Talking, Possession, marking, Soft!Dom Zemo. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 4.2K

Tags: @greeneyedblondie44

A/N: Look we all know we're walking dangerous territory, simping for a war criminal. But Sugar Daddy Zemo got me feeling some type of way and also, Daniel Brüle is hot asf. Also, I don't actually know german so pls if it's off just blame google translate, I just have an insatiable language kink and I needed the pet names more than air itself. I thought about making this a chaptered fic, but I barely had the time to write this, never mind chapters of it before he likely fucks over Sam and Bucky next episode. Anyways, enjoy!

Here’s the thing.

You knew he was dangerous. You knew his past, the EKO Scorpion kill squad and everything with the Avengers, manipulating them and breaking them up from the inside. He was smart, unpredictable. You knew there was a very real potential that you could be hurt - or worse - if you went down the road.

And maybe, in a past life that would’ve been enough to stop you. But you weren’t who you used to be. You liked playing with fire now, inviting danger and chaos rather than straying from it. You had lived in - hid in, was more accurate - Madripoor for a handful of years now. You laid low, kept yourself under the radar of the Power Broker and those who worked for him. This way, no one bothered you and you could live fragments of a normal life, Trading and bartering to make a living. But living this way, like forgotten trash on a sidewalk, got old.

Maybe that’s why when you caught his attention, you didn’t shy away from it.

It had happened so fast. You were dancing, just intoxicated enough that the rubbing of strangers' bodies against yours was not just welcomed, but encouraged. So encouraged that when a new body, tall and firm behind you, took the place of another, you didn’t hesitate to back up into the warmth. His hands gripped your hips tightly, not stopping or guiding you, just resting. Turning your head slightly to see what your new dance partner looked like, you startled a little seeing the Baron.

Helmut chuckled, a low sound you felt rather than heard, and ducked his head down to speak into your ear, “You know who I am.”

You let your body relax back into his, feeling reckless enough to bless the menacing man with your flirtations, your head falling back onto his, “I’ve heard a thing or two.”

“And yet you trust me to hold you like this,” his hands flex on your hips, just hard enough to show the strength they hold, “Like a lover.”

You grab one of his hands, leading it down to your upper thigh where your knife holster sits, never once letting his hand leave your body.

“If I didn’t want you touching me, you’d know it, Baron.”

The gust of breath you felt against the side of your neck and the large hand gripping your thigh had shivers rolling pleasantly down your spine.

“You are far too beautiful to reside in these undergrounds,” he spun you around in his grasp, allowing you to get a good look at his face, “A woman like yourself should be treated with the most expensive riches, the finest wines. She should drain a man of his earnings.”

You laughed, not expecting the words that came from his mouth nor how handsome he was, even this close, “Point me to the man who’s willing.”

He smirked at you, but there was a smugness to it. A glimmer in his eye that suggested he had the riches and the desire to give you anything you wanted. You felt like you were drowning in his gaze, lost as you were under the heat of it. He looked somewhere behind you, pulling his eyes from you to nod once at whatever, or whoever, had stolen his attention from you. When they returned to you, the heat and desire were replaced with determination.

“It is with great regret that I must leave you, for now,” He captured your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the softness of them brushing lightly against your knuckles, “I can get you out of Madripoor, give you a life you deserve. If you meet me tomorrow morning, the airstrip.”

The world felt like it froze around you. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you. You couldn’t trust him. You Shouldn’t trust him. But as you stared into his eyes you saw nothing but honesty.

“And if I don’t?” You ask, just to buy yourself some time.

His hand travels up your arm, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger securely, “I will not pressure you. I’d leave you be, but the ghost of you would haunt me, schatzi.”

And with that, he was gone. Leaving you with nothing more than your thoughts, mentally preparing how quickly you could pack your things and leaving Madripoor behind. After all, you’ve always loved taking risks.

~

The next few weeks were a blur. Zemo was laying low, but his form of laying low was still luxury to you. It was private jets and upscale accommodations, not to mention that he was a man of his word. He spoiled you. Within three days of being in his presence, you had acquired a whole new wardrobe. Your suitcases - also new - were filled to the brim with the fanciest and latest fashion. You had rare jewels on nearly every piece of jewelry you owned. Maybe spoiled was an understatement. You’ve only dreamed of owning riches like these.

He had picked something particular for you to wear tonight, both of you making an appearance at some sort of party with some higher-ups. It was all laid out on the king-sized bed, a little black dress of sorts. It was short and sheer in its long sleeves, the sparkles in the fabric ensured that you would shimmer under any lighting. With a simple clutch, matching jewelry and a cropped, white fur jacket to keep you warm until you got to your destination. You looked good. You felt good.

He looked just as good. Sporting an outfit similar to the one you had met him in, instead choosing a dark red turtleneck to create a stunning relation between both your outfits. Nothing had happened between the two of you yet. Aside from lingering glances and innocent touches, he had been a gentleman. The chemistry was there, for sure. You were able to joke and talk with the man, matching his wit and charm every step of the way. And he loved it.

“Best behaviour tonight, schatzi.” He had said, low in your ear as you walked towards the venue.

You had smiled back at him, the perfect picture of innocence, “Always, Baron.”

And at the time, you had fully meant it. But you found yourself craving him. He looked too good, it honestly wasn’t fair. The way that ridiculous fur jacket draped over his shoulders, fostering a powerful ambience. And you knew he was faring no better himself if by the way his eyes were glued to your curves was anything to go by.

So, you decided, maybe you shouldn’t be on your best behaviour tonight. It’s not like you were making a scene or anything that would call too much attention. You were simply letting the alcohol take over your body. Whether that meant a hand on his thigh as you listened to the conversations around you, your fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck or dancing a little too scandalously when you knew he was watching. You felt confident. And when you felt confident, you felt dangerous.

By the end of the night, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were him. You were pushing your luck, hands trailing a little too close to the bulge in his slacks, enjoying the way his facial features changed briefly in shock before settling back into that infuriating unmovable stoic impression. The last straw was you bending in front of him, having ‘dropped’ something from your purse. You only had to bend so much before the dress, as short as it was, had ridden up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties.

In an instant, he had you standing upright, thanking whoever he had been talking to for a wonderful night, tugging your dress back down to a respectable length and steering you towards the door by the back of your neck.

“That was not best behaviour,” he growled into your ear.

You giggled, despite the tight grip on your neck, “I was just having fun.”

He had done nothing but stare at you, eyes hard with a warning that had you rethinking your actions. You had forgotten, for a moment, that this man was not just someone to give you all the pretty trinkets you wore. He was a mastermind, a criminal mastermind at that. A man most deemed dangerous enough to be locked away.

“You have been bad tonight, kleine Schlampe.” He said once he had gotten you back to his car, away from the prying eyes and ears of the party guests, “You will spend the trip back thinking of ways to make it up to me.”

The words sent heat through your core, and you did exactly as he said.

~

By the time he had gotten you up to your accommodations, you had thought of thousands of different scenarios that could earn you forgiveness for your recklessness. You were uncertain if his words earlier had implied sexual favours, or if a simple, genuine apology was all he was looking for. However, once he had turned to you, the room door closing behind him and his eyebrows raised expectantly, you fell to your knees in front of him like it was second nature.

He chuckles darkly at you as he peels his gloves off, tossing them gently onto a side table nearby before letting one hand brush away the hair that had fallen in your face.

“Seems you are meine kleine schlampe indeed,” You had no idea what it meant, but fuck it sounded good coming from him. His eyes were hard and dark as he stared down at you, “If this is the path you’ve chosen to apologize, so be it. But not here, you are meine schlampe not a common whore. Get up. Go to the bedroom.”

You did as he said, quickly pulling yourself up to a standing position and walking to the designated room. The bed, so far, had only been used by you. He hadn’t wanted to push or pressure you into sharing a space with him. He understood that just because you decided to join him, didn’t mean you wanted to be with him. But tonight, you had decided, you wanted to give him your everything. You wanted to show him how grateful you were for all the gifts he’d given you so far. And if you couldn’t give him luxuries, you would give him your desire.

“So,” he began, nodding in approval at the way you resume your position on the floor in front of him, “Let’s begin with the basics.” As he talked, he rolled up his sleeves, doing so with precision, “Tell me, what exactly are you apologizing for?”

He commands every drop of your attention. There’s an aura to him that you had only previously caught a glimpse of. His eyes dark and locked onto yours, never once wavering. Waiting. Calculating.

“For teasing you.”

“And?”

You take a breath, shame flooding your core at the answer that sits on your tongue.

“For embarrassing you.”

There’s a pause. He cocks his head, gaze softening just a tad. He's quiet for several moments, analyzing your words. Your heart starts to beat a little faster at the extended silence, thinking you’ve done something wrong and you can’t keep up the eye contact. You duck your head, averting your gaze to his feet.

“Look at me, schatzi.” His voice is soft, but still with enough edge to make you listen.

Only once your eyes meet his again does he continue.

“That’s very sweet of you, to be concerned about my image. But make no mistake,” He steps closer to you, letting one hand cup your jaw, tilting it upwards. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, “You could never embarrass me,”

You dip your head, nipping softly at his thumb. He smiles softly at you, something glimmering in his eye, “I simply just don’t like to share what’s mine.”

Your breath leaves your body at his words and suddenly the need for him to claim you had you nearly vibrating in your skin. You watch, every muscle in your body clenched tightly, as he walks slowly over to the armchair in the corner, never once taking his eyes off you. He sits, legs parted, one arm draped off the side, the other rested so he could prop his head up.

“Proceed.”

Instantly, you make your way over to him. Once in front of him, you stand up on your knees, placing your hands on his knees and slowly sliding them up his thighs. They continue its upward motion, skimming lighting over the hardness in his pants and reaching to start on his belt. You make quick work of his belt and buttons, eagerly working his pants and briefs down. He chuckles above you.

“Mein Schatz, so eager to apologize.” He purrs, almost mockingly, hand coming down to brush the fallen hair away from your face.

Once you had him free, you took a second to admire him. Your legs clenched at the size of him. Not terribly big, but big enough to anticipate the stretch, the fullness. Your eyes flicked back up, looking up at his through your lashes, leaning in but stopping just before you could actually get your mouth on him. The hand that was previously fixing your hair was now clenched in it, messing it up again and forcing your head back suddenly to look at him properly.

“It would not be wise to tease me more than you have,” he warned.

A smirk spread across your features and you quickly realized how much you liked him like this.

Powerful.

Strict.

However, you knew you were on thin ice already. With that in mind, as soon as his grip loosened you licked a wide stripe up his length, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him fully into your mouth. The tension his body held melted the second your tongue touched him. His mouth dropping on a soft groan. His hand stroked your hair as you sucked, encouraging the bobs of your head, not forcing but guiding. You keep your eyes trained on his face, not wanting to miss a second of experiencing him like this.

He glows in the low lamplight of the room, the shadows playing across his features delicately. You like him like this too. Reduced to a heap of gasps and moans beneath the heat of your mouth. As you suck, your hands wander, up under the fabric of his shirt, nails dragging down his sides. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t tell you to stop.

After a few minutes of your slow torture, he decides he’s had enough. His hand tightens in your hair, his movements becoming less gentle and more demanding.

“That’s a good girl, take it all for me.”

You do as he asks, taking a breath before taking him as deep as you can. He groans at the feeling, hips shifting a few times to test you before beginning to thrust in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches, but his eyes are on you and his thumb is tracing your bottom lip that’s stretched wide around his cock and you think for a second that you could spend eternity like this.

It’s not much longer before he pulls you off his cock, hand wrapping around his base tightly, “Apologies, schatzi. I am out of practice, and I fear I'm not quite finished with you yet.”

You laugh softly, voice rough due to your previous activity, “That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You insist, more than happy to let him finish like this. Whatever he wants.

He stops you before you can dip down again, standing up and taking you with him. For the first time, his lips are on yours. He overwhelms all your senses. His breath loud in your ears, his hands on your waist, his scent. His tongue slides against yours as he walks you forward, shedding his lower clothing as he goes. He only parts to give you an order.

“Turn around.”

As you do, he finishes undressing and it kills you that can’t see him. Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as you feel his hands at the top of your dress. He slides the zipper down, letting the fabric fall off your shoulders. You take the liberty of helping the sleeves the rest of the way down, the fabric falling down around your heels once you’ve done so. He hums behind you.

“Such beauty,” he whispers against your shoulder. His hands begin to wander, around your waist, up underneath the fabric of your bra, down to your thighs and ass. He chuckles, dragging your panties down enough that they too fall, forgotten at your feet, “I can hardly stay mad at you, liebling.”

Your head falls back onto his shoulders as he works your bra off next. You shiver, feeling bare and exposed before him. You want him more than you can express and you let your whole body fall back into his embrace, whimpering at the feeling of him, hard against the swell of your ass.

“Helmut,” you moan, one of your hands finding purchase in his hair as the other rests on one of his forearms.

“Tell me you’re mine, Schatzi. And I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I’m yours,” you say without hesitation, breathless as his hand dips between your legs, finding your clit. He hums, pleased at the arousal he finds there, “I’m yours. Only yours.”

He growls pulling his hand away from, “Lay back on the bed. I’ll be right back.”

You do as he says, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed. While you wait, you let your mind wander, listening to his rummaging somewhere in another room while your mind runs through everything you want him to do to you. At some point, your eyes must close because when you feel the bed dip, they open to see him crawling between your legs.

He’s done messing around, wasting no time before his face is buried between your thighs, hands maneuvering your legs so that they’re thrown over his shoulders, your heels crossing sweetly behind his head, no doubt scratching at his shoulders. Your breath leaves your body at the feeling of his tongue, warm and wet and fan-fucking-tastic. He alternates between dipping it in and out of your heat and flicking it against your clit. Your hand finds his hair, gripping it between your fingers and guiding his movements ever so slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours, spare for the few times he closes them to moan against you.

One of his hands move, leaving its place at your hip to sink two fingers into you. Your head falls back on a moan, back arching up when he crooks his fingers and finds your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand gripping the pillow behind your head as you feel your orgasm rush towards you, “Fuck- Wait, I-”

You can’t even feel embarrassed about how easily your body has reacted to him. Before you can warn him much more, you're falling over the edge. Your thighs tensing around his head, back arching in pleasure as you ride out your high. In this moment you belong completely to him, unable to think of anything else.

“So sweet for me, liebling.” He comments, hands rubbing up and down your calves as you come down, taking a moment to unfasten your heels, letting the shoes drop to the floor before leaning back in. His lips brush against your inner thigh.

Then a bite.

“Such pretty sounds you make for me.”

And then he’s sucking harshly at the skin there, watching the shudder that rips through your sensitive body at the sensation. He doesn’t pull away until the mark is dark and flush against your skin. He continues this on the other thigh, on your ribs, your breasts and finally your neck, marking you thoroughly.

“Mine.” He growls, hot against your ear, “Mein schatz, will you let me have you?” he asks, and it’s literally all you can think about so you don’t even bother hiding the truth, the confession tumbling from your lips breathlessly.

“I’d let you do anything to me.”

He groans, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he does so. He pulls away to grab the condom that he had put next to him on the bed and leaning back on his haunches to roll it on. You’re so impatient, nails digging into his thighs and arms, whining as you watch his hands work.

“So needy,” He comments, swallowing your moan as he finally, finally, sinks into you.

The stretch as he enters you has your head rolling back on a moan, your legs wrapping around his waist the bring him the rest of the way in. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, growling against the skin there.

“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, his resolve quickly slipping at the feeling of you around his cock. And to his credit, he really tries to wait, to be good. But not seconds later he’s adjusting his grip on your hips and he’s thrusting into you with a force that makes the whole bed shake.

It’s barely been 30 seconds, but the build-up that had occurred throughout the entirety of the night had you right back on the edge, your nails clawing at his shoulders, his back, his thighs. Any purchase you could get on him, you were begging for more. You’d take anything he gave you without so much as batting an eyelash. His grip on your hips is tight and bruising, but the pain twists into a delicious pleasure that only spurs you on.

You must be speaking, babbling something back to him about how good it feels, how much you love being fucked by him because he’s laughing through a moan against your neck. He pauses for just a second, straightening up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before continuing to fuck you.

“That’s it Kätzchen.” He purrs, eyes moving down your body to where he enters your body, “Taking my cock so well.”

You mewl at the praise, your body arching in response to his words. Your second orgasm takes you both by surprise, having hit you like a fucking freight train when he thrusts particularly deep, hitting one of your sweet spots. You scramble for purchase on him, mouth dropped open in a near-pornographic moan that you’ll surely be embarrassed about later. But for now, all you know is pleasure.

His hips falter, stuttering as your walls tighten around him. His head falls back on a low moan, fucking you hard and slow through your release.

“Such a sweet cunt,” he gasps, “Mein Gott..”

And then he’s tangling your hands together, holding it high above your head as he pushes your thighs back, flush against your chest. He’s the one babbling now, words from God only knows what language, whispered against your skin as he chases his own release. He gives one last hard thrust and he’s done, his teeth dragging against the skin on your shoulder, moaning against you as he rides out his orgasm.

As you both come down, you stroke the back of his neck, playing with the hairs there, trying to catch your breath. After a few moments, he pulls away just enough to kiss you. There’s a lingering heat and it’s a little messy due to your shared exhaustion but it’s good.

Once you’ve both caught your breath, he removes himself from your body, taking the necessary time to deal with the condom. You watch him lazily, unable to do much other than that. You’re so tired. But there’s that ache between your legs that you love so much and you think briefly that you could go another round, if he wanted to.

He must see something in your eyes when he returns because he laughs softly, “I feel I may have my hands full with you, schatzi.” he says as he crawls back into the bed with you, covering the both of you with a blanket, the cold now biting at your skin. You know you have to get up soon enough to sort yourself out before bed, but for a moment you stay with him.

His fingers brush over your face softly, following the slope of your nose and the angle of your cheeks. There’s no real purpose to his movements, just... touching. As if convincing himself that you’re real.

“You are special, schatzi.” he says softly, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I can only hope that you choose to continue to bless me with your presence.”

This man is such an enigma to you. He carries such confidence in every aspect of his life and yet he still doubts your loyalties. There’s anxiety and pain hidden within him, you can see it in his eyes as he continues to look at you. You wonder, how much of his past weighs on his shoulders. How long before he deems himself worthy of your affection? You lean in to kiss him softly, your lips dragging slowly against him. When you pull away you keep him close, brushing your noses together.

“I’m not going anywhere.”