#and i like putting him in those situations

[ultraericthered]

#i got to screen Wish before it released during a school trip and let me tell you something #even though we noticed the glaring problems with that movie immediately #i also noticed something i dont think many others did at that time #there was so much talent and potential being held back. if you read closely you can pick up on a cry for help from the creatives behind it #i want to elaborate but i think if you know. you know #and if you don't.. this post does a good job of shining a light on a small part of that cry for you #despite its many issues i think i still liked Wish. Not because i think it was a good movie but bc i think it could have been a great one had circumstances been different. #my heart goes out to those who put their souls and everything they had into that movie and others in similar situations #some of the creators had given a small talk before the screening and to me they seemed very emotional about it #i think what many people forget is that nobody can see a project's flaws better than the people who worked on it #but what they also see and you can't is everything more it was meant to be #please remember that the core of many issues in any project is that the people with the talent often do not have power to call the shots

Yes, all of that. And I find it ironic that the gifed scene is the one that got people saying "Hey, King Magnifico's not really much of a villain, he's got a good point! He's just upholding his part of a social contract with his citizenry and doing what he, as king, needs to do to protect their wishes but also protect Rosas by ruling out granting any wishes that might backfire and have dangerous repercussions for the kingdom and the lives of the people! Asha's just an ignorant spoiled brat for demanding anything more of him! Magnifico Did Nothing Wrong!" So when you take that position on what you're being shown by the story and not scratching the surface to look at what Magnifico is doing in-universe by not giving back the wishes he knows he will not grant and knows the people who gave them to him cannot remember and what the out-of-universe subtext of this is, you're siding with the Disney Corporate Executive Overlords. You're siding with Bob Iger's "they're not being realistic with their expectations" argument. You're siding with Chapek and Iger's practices done under excuses like "It doesn't fit the Disney brand", "mass appeal stories over personal ones", "people don't want to go and pay to see movies with girly princess titles", etc. You're siding with their practices of dumping content straight to streaming (or onto Disney+ not too long after they've hit theaters or TV) even when that actually limits profits that the actual creative teams can make from their own work, of tampering with the artists visions and how the finished product turns out and then punishing those artists if it doesn't turn out well, and of ignoring ideas for original creations in favor of contiunally milking their popular (and profitable) existing IPs. You're siding with people who make up an entire entity that say loudly to the faces of all those who put in the work, the skills, the talent, the passion and dedication to create art and content they feel people deserve to enjoy, in the forms they deserve to enjoy them "I decide what everyone deserves!"

Capitalism errodes into a force for human evil when the people at the top prove susceptible to three things in excess beyond mere greed and self-interest: unchecked power, irresponsibility, and indecency. King Magnifico is allegorical for that evil, with a bit of a communist dictator angle to him too since that's the end point of those exact same excesses and extremes for socialism. He's a major problematic fave for all kinds of reasons, but anyone who wants to tell me he's a good guy can kindly GTFO.

Wish (2023) dir. Fawn Veerasunthorn, Chris Buck

hey do you think the overworked creatives about to go on strike are trying to tell us something

article sources under the cut

Mattson, Kelcie. "How Disney Almost Killed 'Nimona.'" Collider, January 2 2024.

Earl, William. "Shelving Batgirl Was the Right Decision, Says New DC Studios Head Peter Safran: 'It Would Have Hurt DC.'" Variety, January 31 2023

Couch, Aaron. "Warner Bros. Reverses Course on 'Coyote vs. Acme' After Filmmakers Rebel." The Hollywood Reporter, November 13 2023.

Ridgely, Charlie. "Scoob! Sequel Director Revealed Film Was 'Very Close' to Completion Before HBO Max Cancellation." comicbook.com, August 2 2022.

Clark, Travis. "Staffers at the animation studio Blue Sky say it's 'heartbreaking' that Disney canceled its final movie, 'Nimona.'" Business Insider, February 18, 2021.

Harrison, Mark. "Why was the Batgirl movie cancelled?" Yahoo! Entertainment, January 31 2024.

Amidi, Amid. "Warner Bros. Shelves Fully-Completed 'Coyote Vs. Acme' For Tax Write-Off." Cartoon Brew, November 9 2023.

Lee, Alex. "Why Netflix keeps cancelling your favourite shows after two seasons." Wired UK, September 28 2020.

Tyrrell, Gary. "We All Knew It Was Coming." fleen.com, February 10 2021.

"Warner Bros. Reverses Course on ‘Coyote vs. Acme’ After Filmmakers Rebel." see: 3.

Bergeson, Samantha. "Warner Bros. Will Let 'Coyote Vs. Acme' Filmmakers Shop Movie to Other Distributors." IndieWire, November 13 2023.

Strapagiel, Lauren. "Disney's First Feature Animated Movie With Queer Leads May Never Be Released." BuzzfeedNews, February 24 2021.

"We All Knew It Was Coming." see: 9

@/scottderrickson. "I think it’s absolute bullshit that a studio can and does shelve the creative work of hundreds of people for a fucking tax break." Twitter, 10 Nov. 2023, 4:52 p.m..

[glamourscat]

Could you please write Bruce and batboys getting jealous when they meet their crush's ex boyfriend? Her ex is as rich as Bruce, handsome and a total green flag. But they broke up in a friendly term. Upon meeting him they got jealous seeing reader and her ex are still super close. Thank you ❤️

Batboys + Bruce and their jealousy while meeting your ex

Author's Note: I decided to do a mix of a headcanon and a drabble for this one, I think it fits the vibes of the request. i hope you like it :) This is also so damn long but i am a yapper at heart

DICK GRAYSON

I see Dick as a very confident individual. I mean, he is self aware, he is beautiful, rich and overall a good guy. A catch right? (let's ignore the cheating for a moment...)

Though, Dick grew up in a rather unstable situation, to say the least. I see him as a person who craves his s/o attention on him, not necessarely 24/7, but enough to remind him "hey, I am here and I love you"

Still, when he does get jealous ━━ for example in this scenario where you're his crush and he is meeting your ex, who's as equally as handsome as him, not that he would admit to it. Rich as Bruce and a green flag on top of that?━━ damn, he is cooked lol.

His jealousy will probably stem from insecurity. Because, if this guy is rich, beautiful and a green flag too, what does Dick have to offer now? If they are on the same level, or worse, your ex is slightly higher than him ━━ truly, what cards are left for him to play?

And so, I think he would feel insecure for a moment and thats where being overly into PDA comes into place. MORE UNDER THE CUT

"You’re awfully close today. I mean, it’s not like I’m complaining, but… are you sure you're alright, Dick?" you say with a small, soft chuckle as you look at the black-haired guy who just linked his arm with yours.

"Yeah… yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be?" he says, offering a smile that’s a bit too tight, a bit too forced for your liking. It’s not like you're a fool; you know exactly what the problem is. You saw the way he reacted when, walking casually through Gotham, you two happened to run into your ex by pure coincidence.

His eye twitched slightly, and his gaze was darting back and forth between you and your ex. You noticed the way his arm tightened around your waist, as if to say, Back off. If you had any doubts about whether he liked you before, now you have your answer.

JASON TODD

When I think of Jay, I imagine a healed version of him. I know people like to imagine him as this broken soul, and I’m not saying he isn’t; he has his fair share of trauma. But I like to think that from coming back as Red Hood to now, the present Jason Todd, he is a changed man.

He’s no longer the insecure, abrasive teen who swore nothing but vengeance and payback for what happened to him. He has accepted what happened; that doesn’t mean he forgot, nor does this mean he forgives Bruce. It just means he has the emotional capacity to be more confident in his own being.

So, how would he react upon meeting his crush’s ex? Well, chances are, if you’re Jason’s crush, you two are friends. He’s good at many things, but flirting, romance, and putting himself out there are not some of those. By being close friends, he is probably already aware of some aspects of your past, including your ex.

Thus, when he meets your ex, he is probably as nonchalant as ever. Does he feel a bit jealous? Maybe. Will those insecurities that have haunted and stained his past try to resurface, making him second-guess himself? Also yes. But he has grown enough to know he’s better than that.

"Jay?" Your voice is soft as feathers as you look at him. His green-blue eyes are focused on browsing the books on the shelves in front of you two, as silence fills the air in the small bookshop where you two had, by chance, met your ex just moments prior.

"Hm?" he hums, not taking his eyes off the books, but keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.

"Are you okay? You're awfully quiet. Did I say something wrong, or…?" You trail off, but he cuts you off.

"Nope, nothing's wrong. I'm just looking for a book," he says, moving to the romance section. "You like this?" His voice is quiet, yet it holds a softness to it as he shows you a book he damn well knows is your favorite.

"I mean, yeah. It’s my favorite. Why?" Your tone is slightly confused, just as quiet as his.

He shrugs as he places the book in the small hand basket he’s holding. "Nothing. Just thought I’d buy it. I trust you and your opinion. If you say it’s good, then it is."

He knows that in that moment, not giving in, not allowing those negative emotions to resurface as they did in the past, was the best choice he could’ve made if it meant seeing your smile—so timid yet flustered—with those rosy cheeks of yours, as you try to hide your giddiness from his words.

TIM DRAKE

Ah, my favorite little gremlin. The issue I have with Tim is not with Tim himself, but with the fandom that constantly mischaracterizes him.

I’m not even going to get into the coffee addict recurring joke, but I want to focus on one thing. "Precious bean Tim". This guy is absolutely unhinged. Dick, Jason, and Damian all had their moments, but Tim? His whole being is centered around being a sarcastic, witty little shit who does the most unhinged things, and somehow, people always give him a pass. (I mean... do we need to talk about his red robin run? Or when he was dating two people at once? Or when it's canon that at first impression people feel judged by him?)

My point is, Tim is literally out of his mind lol. He struggles a lot with his emotions, we see this in his Red Robin run, how obsessive he became over the idea of finding Bruce, someone he cares for. He was spiraling bad.

His jealousy manifests in possessiveness. Mine, mine, mine. Let's not forget that Tim lost his mother, watched his father die too. He is messed up emotionally, because everything that was his has always been taken from him one way or another. First his parents, then robin mantle by Damian and even his best friend (or lover) Kon at somepoint.

"You're pouting."

"No, I am not." He says, while comically enough, pouting more. It had been about 30 minutes, give or take, since you two came back from the movie theatre. Where you and Tim had to sit through an almost 2 hours long movie with your ex as the main lead.

Was he pissed? no, no, no... why would he be? Absolutely no. Him? Tim Drake? Jealous? Pff. Definitely wasn't. And yet, he kept pressing each key of his keyboard so hard, as he typed, that you feared it might come flying at his face very soon.

"If you're jealous you can just say so you know." You say with a half amused grin. If he wanted to act like a brat, might as well enjoy it. "I mean, who wouldn't be right? My ex is after all, rich, handsome, a great ac-" your words are cut off as his face he is pretty much pressed against yours.

When the hell did he come on the bed? He was sitting at his desk just a moment ago...

"Shut up" he scoffs as his cold nose nudges yours, his hand goes to the back of your head pulling you in for a kiss. and what a kiss. His lips, slightly chapped and cold, meet yours with such ferocity you're left stunned. His body has yours pressed on his bed, as he straddles your lap. Your tongues meet as he lets out a quiet little moan as your hands go in his soft raven hair.

"fuck- i am sorry" he pants gulping, cheeks red and eyes wide, as he pulls back after a few moments in a panic. what the fuck had he just done?

"You shut up now." you say with a little grin, equally as breathless as him, as you bring back your lips against his. Losing each other in a kiss that would be just the beginning of a beautiful imperfect thing.

BRUCE WAYNE

Now, Bruce was hard to crack, for me at least. Because, I think depending on the person, the situation and how he is feeling at the current moment, he can be like any of his sons.

His jealousy is not driven by insecurity or possessiveness in the conventional sense, like Dick’s or Tim's would. Not necesseraily.

I mean, we are talking about a man with his fair share of lovers

I think his jealousy would stem from his deep emotional connections and the high stakes involved in his relationships. Sure, Tim, Dick and Jason are all vigilantes too, but Bruce is the Batman. he cannot afford, he does not have the luxury, of dating who he wants just because. It's either flings or a deep emotional connection with him.

We see him getting jealous with Selina, for example, when he feels his emotional connection getting threatened by other men she is flirting with. His jealousy is so damn complex and subtle and sometimes it shows up as in actions and decision making rather than extensive show off of jealousy.

That's why I think if he has a crush on a woman (or man), his attidute will depend on the situation they find themselves in. He might become overall more vigilant, assertive or distant base on how the event will play out.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[retrosabers]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬.

FICMAS DAY ONE- MISTLETOE

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: marie is determined to get logan to kiss you under the mistletoe

contains: cute holiday fluff, marie and bobby being little shits, established relationship, swearing, teasing

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this was not supposed to be almost 2k words but i have a very bad habit of getting carried away when it comes to logan so…let’s hope i can actually commit to writing all these holiday blurbs! in the meantime, enjoy some wolvie sweetness <3

!! divider by @strangergraphics !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

holidays at the x-mansion meant a few things.

helping put up the largest christmas tree you’ve ever seen, and decorating it from head to toe. each student and professor responsible for placing their favorite ornament on a branch.

spending your weekends cozying up by the fireplace with hot cocoa and your colleagues. basking in the warmth that had nothing to do with the glowing embers, but the company seated around you.

and last, but most importantly, less kids. since a fair amount of them returned home to spend time with their families, that meant fewer heads to keep track off, and less stress on your plate.

but of course, things could never be that easy.

the ones who remained, usually the older students, always tried their luck to see just how much they could get away with, under the guise of “being in the christmas spirit.”

last year it was the snowball fight that somehow made its way into the foyer. the year before that there was a wrapping paper prank that covered all four walls of the professor’s office with obnoxiously printed gift wrap.

both of which were unnecessary messes that irked logan big time. and yet, this year’s ordeal got under his skin in a way that was unparalleled to those prior.

and it’s all your fault, really. well, sort of.

somehow an innocent comment made in passing about always wanting to be kissed under mistletoe turned into a personal mission for marie. she was determined to help make your dream come true, and while the kindness of it all is incredibly sweet and heartwarming, she’s starting to get a little carried away.

logan liked the young girl. he really, truly did.

but if her and bobby didn’t stop this little charade, he was going to lose his mind.

all damn day the pair of teens were following him around every corner. whispering and giggling under their breath, forgetting that he could hear them from a distance away. he knows exactly what they’re up to, judging by the faux leaf decoration marie is doing a very poor job of hiding behind her back.

they’re trying to play matchmaker.

it’s something that would be the slightest bit endearing if he wasn’t already involved.

that’s what made the situation ironic. funny even. watching them scramble around to place the mistletoe whenever you and logan were in the same room. thinking they were single handedly going to be responsible for a love match that was already underway and had been for months.

you weren’t purposely keeping your relationship a secret. you just didn’t feel like it needed to be divulged to the team just yet. anyone with eyes however, could clearly see there was something going on between you and the wolverine.

hence the two young mutants trying their hand at playing cupid.

“you can’t keep barking at them all day,” you scold logan, who was shooting the iceman a warning glare over his shoulder. the blonde looks like a deer caught in headlights as he darts down the hall. “they’re just being kids.”

“gettin’ on my goddamn nerves is what they’re doing,” your boyfriend grumbles. his hard expression melts a bit when you affectionately card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“i think it’s sweet.”

logan scoffs with a roll of his eyes, but it's clear he’s mostly messing around. he’s got a soft spot for the kids whether he wants to admit it or not, and he most definitely has a soft spot for you, which he’ll scream loud and proud. his eyelids flutter shut at the soothing scrape of your nails against his scalp.

“i’m waiting for you to starting purring one of these days,” you tease him in a low whisper. logan opens one eye, unimpressed. still, there’s a faint tug on the corner of his lips.

“whatever,” he retorts weakly, relishing in the peaceful moment. knowing you don’t get many of those around here, his hand stays snug against the small of your back, hoping he can keep you anchored for just a little while longer.

as much as you want to stay like this all day, both of you have things that need to be taken care of. logan deflates slightly when you pull away, hands ghosting around your torso before limply falling at his sides.

“duty calls,” you groan, as you look down at your watch to check the time. your next class started in five minutes, and you’d be setting a bad example as the teacher if you were late. “i’ll find you after?”

logan nods, debating on whether or not he should do what he’s thinking. you’ve shown affection around the mansion before, but with bobby and marie sneaking around, he didn’t want to give them a front row seat, especially considering no one really knew you were together yet. the last thing he needs is those two running amuck telling everyone his business.

although logan would be a liar if he said he could go without your kisses. because he couldn’t. not by a long shot, regardless of the circumstance.

just as he’s about to lean in, a loud noise sounds from the hallway. you exchange glances for a split second, protective instincts kicking in before you rush out of the room in a panic.

in a flash, you’re standing in the mansion’s entryway, logan with his claws out and you with your fists up ready to face danger. except there wasn’t anything alarming to be found. not a knocked over vase. not so much as a fly in the wall.

“what the hell was that?” you breathe, surveying the hall for any sign of what could’ve caused a ruckus.

“probably those damn kids again,” logan huffs exasperated, giving the room another once over before his claws retract.

you can’t stop the bark of laughter that makes its way out of you. logan looks back at you confused, but with a hint of a smile on his face.

“i’m sorry,” you snort, covering your mouth at the sound. “it’s just, you sound like such an old man right now.”

unamused, logan offers a blank stare, though you know there’s no real irritation behind it.

“i’m not sure who’s worse,” your boyfriend groans as he makes his way back toward the living room. “you, or the kids.”

“you know you love me,” you joke, following close behind. logan hums sarcastically, but deep down he knows it’s the complete and utter truth. he doesn’t have to say it out loud for you to know, and somehow his coyness about the subject manages to make you even more smitten.

your heart flutters from that notion, in addition to catching a glimpse of the mistletoe that’s now mysteriously pinned above the corridor.

it definitely wasn’t there two seconds ago.

a quick flick of your head back and forth to double check and make sure there wasn’t any prying eyes. bobby and marie weren’t very good at hiding, so when you’re not met with a chorus of stifled giggles, you know you’re in the clear.

a smug grin accompanies the airy call of logan’s name.

the man gives a sideways peek over his shoulder before spinning around completely, eyeing you with tender curiosity.

you stand in the doorway, teetering back and forth on your heels, and nod your head up in the direction of the ever dreaded mistletoe. an innocent flush on your cheeks that signals to him just how giddy you are over something so small.

and as much as logan can’t stand the cliche-ness of it all, he has no choice but to oblige.

because who would he be, if he didn’t do everything in his power to keep you this happy?

with faux annoyance, he stomps over to you, dragging his feet across the floor for dramatic effect. it only adds to your amusement, the sound of your laughter the most delightful noise he wishes he could bottle up and keep forever. when his large hands find their familiar place wrapped around you, any facade of indifference crumbles.

“m’gonna get those little shits if they’re lurking,” logan mutters playfully, your lips mere inches apart with how closely he leans in.

“just shut up and kiss me already howlett,” you whisper in protest, and that little hint of bossiness is all logan needs to surge forward and close the gap.

it felt exactly like something out of those cheesy christmas romance movies, but in the best way possible. the scent of vanilla and pine occupies your senses as logan’s lips move in tandem against yours. delicate and slowly, an always dizzying contrast to the brooding and rugged exterior of the wolverine. you melt like putty into his touch, arms encircling the back of his neck naturally.

there’s something sweet and syrupy that logan feels between his ribs when you shuffle around onto the tips of your toes to deepen the kiss even more. to find a way to get even closer, an impossible feat that physics won’t ever allow but you try anyway.

the only thing that could ever pull you away from this bliss, was the need to come back for air.

the sight of you, blushed and breathless, was always sure to make him swell with pride. in true hallmark fashion, a piece of hair falls in front of your face, and logan tucks it behind your ear without second thought.

“that live up to the hype?” logan teases, raising a brow up towards the ceiling, that sly smirk of his making you flush even more.

“maybe,” you quip back, pretending to mull things over in your mind before ultimately nodding your head enthusiastically.

and even when logan can sense the presence of bobby and marie looming nearby, he doesn’t fly off the handle with a string of swear words like he wants to. he can’t bring himself to rain on your parade just yet. though he should’ve known you’d beat him to the punch.

“they’re standing in the hall aren’t they?” you grumble against his lips, a hint of annoyance lacing your otherwise cheery tone.

“yup,” logan pops the last letter, shifting to give the pair a look that screams “i’m giving you a five minute head start before you get an earful.” they cartoonishly scamper off, the sound of bounding footsteps up the staircase filling the room.

you pinch the bridge of your nose, the bubble of this perfect moment popping at the thought of what the rest of your day was going to entail now that the mansion’s biggest blabbermouths caught you kissing.

“we’ve got about 10 minutes before the entire state of new york knows our business.”

logan’s laugh rumbles against you, sending delightful vibrations throughout your body. even with the irritation that pricks at the both of you, there’s an underlying sense of content that can’t be ignored.

“i say it was worth it.”

“yeah?” you whisper, eyes searching logan’s for some sign of jest or sarcasm. surprisingly, they’re full of sincerity, and it only adds to the warm and fuzzy feeling spreading across your skin.

“yeah,” he hums, gingerly cradling your face as he presses your lips together once more.

later, after you scold marie for being a meddler, you’ll be sure to thank her for helping give you one of the most memorable kisses in your entire life.

thanks for reading! <3

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

[megalony]

Watch Your Back

This is a new Dark! Evan Buckley imagine, requested by anon. I hope you will all like this one, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs

Dark! Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: Being type one diabetic, (Y/n) relies on Evan for a lot of things, and it makes him very protective over her. Especially when they visit her family, and her sister tries to cause chaos and friction.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A sigh tumbled past Evan's lips when they exited the building. He was pretty sure that Bobby and Eddie had the fire under control by now, the building was almost completely put-out and everyone had been evacuated.

It hadn't been a huge fire, the first two floors, to be exact, but they had to evacuate everyone and keep them out until the building was declared safe again.

At least they didn't have many injured to take care of, they only needed a small medical area set up to the left of the building. There were less than ten people that needed medical assistance.

Tilting his head back, Evan pushed his helmet further back on his head and did a quick sweep of his surroundings. He wasn't too sure what Bobby wanted him to do now. He had evacuated the building, everyone was safe. Did he go and help at the medical tent? Did he do a second check of the building? Did he start packing the equipment up?

He took the time to remove his gloves and stuff them into his jacket pocket. Now the fire was out, Evan wasn't in danger of getting burns and the gloves were restrictive, he hated wearing them.

When he glanced around, his head tilted at an angle and he couldn't prevent his eyes from locking onto a certain figure.

She was stood on the pavement, as close to the building as she could get without risking her safety.

There was a certain look in those deep pooling eyes that made Evan shake to his core. There was something about her that was drawing him in. Maybe she had an aura that was reaching out to him. Maybe it was just her presence and the tender expression on her face that made her look sweet compared to this dull, dark situation.

Evan wasn't sure what it was, but something was edging him towards her. He found himself removing the oxygen tank from his back and setting it on the floor by the truck so he wasn't being weighed down anymore and he was free to move.

His boots clunked against the pavement, harsh enough that it should have left indents in the concrete as he trudged towards her.

She looked like she needed something.

The girl was watching the scene with interest, her eyes were constantly flitting from the truck to the building and back around to everyone coming in and out of the building. But it didn't look like she was searching or waiting for someone in particular. Evan had seen plenty of people desperate to find friends and loved ones and make sure they were safe, and this girl didn't have that desperation about her.

But she was dithering from foot to foot with both arms deadlocked around her chest and a nervousness about her that was endearing. There was something about that nervousness that drew Evan closer. Something about her panic that he thought he could possibly help with. He could reassure her. He could calm her down and find out what was wrong. Evan was a fixer; he longed to help people. It was one of the many things that made him good at his job.

"Are you okay? Can I help you?" Evan found himself rubbing his hands together in front of him and he tried to smile and dip his head down to catch her attention.

But the longer he looked at her, the more he realised she didn't look too well. When he got closer, he noticed she was trembling and her breathing was rather shallow, but she didn't look injured. He couldn't see any injury or blood on her and she wasn't cradling any part of her body or crying out in pain.

"Is- is the office clear now?" Her head ticked in the direction of the building and Evan took a moment to glance over his shoulder before he stepped closer to her.

"The fire's out, but the buildings not been cleared to re-enter yet."

(Y/n) unravelled one arm from her waist so she could tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and she tensed her arm to try and stop the shaking from becoming visible. Her teeth sank down into her lower lip and she closed her eyes for a moment to try and gather her senses.

It was past dinner time. No one in the office had managed to get anything to eat before the fire alarm went off and they were suddenly being evacuated. (Y/n) had missed lunch, and her meds were up in her office. This didn't bode well.

She didn't realise she was swaying on her feet until she felt the fireman's hands suddenly clamping down on her upper arms. His grip was strong and his body was firm when he stood so close in front of her that she could smell the burnt wood smell that clung to his uniform and the smoke that made it seem like he had been grilled on a barbeque.

"C- can you help me?" Her voice sounded so quiet, so feeble and delicate and (Y/n) hated it.

But her voice was like music to Evan's ears. Something about her was drawing him in. He would help her. He would do whatever she asked him to try and help her. She looked like she needed protecting, like she needed looking after, and that was Evan's speciality.

He grinned down at her with a soft look in his eyes and murmured a quiet "Of course," while he squeezed her arm reassuringly.

She unhooked her arms from her waist and reached out for his arms and it felt strange to grab a fistful of his overall jacket rather than his actual arms.

(Y/n) couldn't help the way she winced when she wobbled and set off balance which caused the man in front of her to reel her into his chest. Her head flopped forward and back like she couldn't hold her neck straight and when she dared to try and open her blurring eyes, she was consumed when she stared up into those dark blue eyes.

"I think we should sit you down."

Evan let go of one of her arms so he could hold onto her waist to prevent her from falling to the floor. But when his hand brushed against something on her waist, his brows furrowed and he tilted his head down. He carefully flicked the hem of her shirt up just enough to see what was stuck to her waist.

Oh. She was a diabetic.

"Okay, miss, I need to check your sugar levels. Can I check your phone please?" The device attached to the right side of her waist was a Dexcom, Evan had seen a few of these before.

It monitored her blood sugar levels and he guessed that right now, she was starting to get low on sugar. That might be why she wanted to get back into the office building.

"I-it's inside," (Y/n) chuckled quietly but the motion set her off balance and she wobbled into the fireman's chest, not that he seemed to mind at all.

He tightened his arms around her and slowly eased her down with him until she was sat on the edge of the pavement and he was knelt behind her like a leaning post, preventing her from lying out on the ground. His hand began to run up and down her arm while he waved over towards Hen.

"Then we'll do this the old fashioned way with a needle, hm?" They carried a range of medical equipment in the ambulance and Evan knew they had the monitoring kit with them to check blood sugar levels. He could get Hen to check her levels and give her some glucose to boost her system.

Shivers coursed up and down Evan's spine when he felt the girl lean her head on his shoulder and when she smiled up at him, it was as if his heart was a firework that exploded in his chest.

"I got you, you're alright."

"Evan?"

(Y/n) managed a smile when she watched him head out the bathroom, about to turn and aim for the living room until her voice caught his ears. The smile on Evan's face made (Y/n)'s heart skip a beat and she almost felt bad for what she was about to ask. He probably knew what she was asking because she saw his eyes flit down to his watch.

Her gaze stayed on him as he sauntered into the kitchen and scanned his eyes around the counter. She had her insulin prepped and ready on the counter.

"Need a little help?"

(Y/n) wordlessly nodded and turned to lean her hips back against the counter when Evan headed over to her. She reached behind her to hold onto the counter, steadying herself while Evan washed his hands before he faced her.

The way he smiled down at her had her heart doing summersaults and her head tilted back to keep his gaze when he towered over her. The end of his nose nudged hers, silently tipping her head back a little more so he could capture her mouth in a kiss.

He knew what she was asking. (Y/n) didn't like injecting herself. She could do it, she had to learn since she had been having insulin all her life and she couldn't of lived alone if she couldn't administer her own meds. But it still didn't help that she hated having to do it. Whereas Evan didn't mind.

He seemed to love giving her the daily injections she needed. He had her Dexcom app on his phone so he could help monitor her levels, he was a great cook and could automatically calculate the carbohydrates in the food so (Y/n) didn't get too much or have an inbalance in sugar intake.

When Evan was around, (Y/n) barely had to worry at all.

She inclined her head to the left, allowing Evan access to trail his kisses down the side of her neck and she shivered when she felt his hand slipping beneath her shirt and tickling across her stomach. He smirked into her skin when she squirmed against his touch and she tilted her head down to watch as Evan rolled up her shirt and reached out for the needle.

He didn't seem to bat an eyelid as he bent at the knees to be level with her waist. (Y/n) did her best not to flinch or make a move when the needle pierced into her abdomen, but she knew Evan was being as gentle as possible. He kissed the tiny mark on her skin once he'd finished and set the needle down behind her so his hands could hold her hips and pull her close.

"All done." Evan stole another kiss while his fingers slid beneath the waistband of her jeans and he squeezed her sides and pulled her off the counter so she was pressed up against him.

He felt her murmur 'thank you' against his lips and he inhaled her words like they were the air he needed to breathe.

Evan liked that she relied on him- no, he loved it. Being useful was something he prided himself in and he wanted to look after (Y/n). Evan wanted to be the only one to look after (Y/n). He loved how she trusted him to do things for her.

She trusted him to give her the insulin injections she needed. She trusted him when he said her levels were low and they needed boosting or she should stay home if she was liable to have a hypo. Evan loved that (Y/n) didn't like going out without him. Her anxiety meant she didn't feel comfortable or safe going out alone, and with how heavily she relied on Evan, she didn't feel safe going out with anyone but him.

He accompanied her everywhere, and it let Evan have the control he needed to look after her. He knew where she was each day and what she was up to because she ran her schedules past him. She planned going out with friends around Evan's days off, he took her to appointments. If she went out alone she checked in with Evan and told him before she did it, she didn't make plans on a whim.

He always knew where she would be and what she would be doing and that meant if she wasn't well or something happened, Evan would know about it and know where she was.

Her depending on Evan made him feel useful, it made him feel loved and like her protector, and that was what he craved.

He smiled against her lips when he felt her hands slide up to cup either side of his neck and he loved the way she brushed her thumbs across his jaw and seemed to pull him closer as if they weren't already close enough.

With a growl, Evan leaned down and pulled his hands from within her jeans so he could scratch his nails down the back of her legs until he was cupping her thighs. He lifted her up with little effort and hoisted her up until her legs hooked around his waist and he could sit her down on the kitchen counter.

(Y/n) could barely breathe when Evan's hungry lips stole each ounce of air she tried to gasp for when their lips parted just enough to scrape a breath before Evan consumed her mouth again.

She felt the way his hands left her thighs once he had her sitting on the counter and he slid them right back into the hem of her jeans. He worked his fingers past her waistband until he was cupping her bum and he pulled her closer so she was sat on the edge of the counter.

Her arms rested on his shoulders and her hands continued to graze along his neck but they broke apart when (Y/n)'s phone buzzed on the counter.

She leaned her temple against Evan's and turned her head to the left, trying to locate her phone while she gasped to regain her breath.

Evan's hands stayed firmly tucked into her jeans and he ducked his head down to attach his lips to the side of her neck while she leaned across to grab her one, keeping one arm hooked around his neck. (Y/n) squirmed against him and smiled when she felt Evan's lips part enough so he could graze his teeth down her neck.

"Don't mark me up." She murmured quietly while she unlocked her phone, but she was met with a chuckle vibrating through her neck. She gasped, squeezing her thighs into his hips tightly when he bit down on her neck harsh enough that (Y/n) knew there would be a mark there later. She might even have a blood wheel, it felt like he had sank fangs down into her skin to prove a point.

"Why? Who's gonna notice but me?"

(Y/n) rolled her eyes but a smile flickered on her lips when Evan swatted his hand down on her hip in retaliation.

It wasn't as if (Y/n) would be going into an office to work tomorrow and people were going to see.

She worked from home.

(Y/n) had moved in with Evan a few months ago, despite them only just reaching their one year anniversary last month. When she moved in, he suggested it would be easier if she worked from home. After all, she was always crippled with anxiety and Evan couldn't go with her to work, whereas if she worked from home, on his days off, he would be here with her.

Added with the fact that she was diabetic and prone to feeling ill and having bad days, it was safer for her to be at home where Evan could keep an eye on her.

"Who's gonna be able to look after you better than me?"

Evan was the only one who looked after (Y/n); at least, that was the way he saw it and that was how he convinced (Y/n). He was the only one who looked after her properly, who loved her and cared for her and always had her best interests at heart.

If Evan was going to look after her, she needed to be around him. She worked from home so she didn't have to deal with people at the office like she used to. It stopped her getting anxious. Evan went out with her whenever she had to go to the shops or an appointment or just to see people because he calmed her down with her social anxiety, and he looked after her with her diabetes.

With his face still tucked into the crook of her neck, Evan continued his administrations, peppering kisses up and down her neck like he was adding paint to a canvas. He scraped his teeth along her neck, biting down and sucking bruises every now and then while he waited for her to check her phone.

He absentmindedly leaned into her, pressing his chest up against hers until he was almost laying (Y/n) down on her back on the counter with his efforts.

"Who is it?" His nose nudged against the underside of (Y/n)'s chin and he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the centre of her neck, feeling the exact way (Y/n) took in a sharp breath against him.

The way he travelled his lips down the expanse of her throat, leaving wet, breathless kisses in his wake made (Y/n)'s mind cloud over. She had to blink three times just to get her vision back in focus.

Her right arm tightened around the back of his neck and she leaned her cheek on top of his head while she tried to read the text she'd been sent.

"Mum," The way she sighed made Evan stop and finally unlatch from her throat so he could pull back.

He looked down at her with furrowed brows and wide, blown pupils bubbling over with lust. His cheeks were flushed red and his lips were plump and a very dark shade of rouge.

"Yeah, what's she say?"

Evan was quite pleased that (Y/n)'s parents were somewhat distant. They were loving, sure, and they were a lot more involved and kinder than his own parents. But they didn't crowd (Y/n). If his daughter was as anxious as (Y/n) and had a condition like diabetes, Evan would be checking in with her every day to make sure she was alright. He would always want to be around her and look after her.

Her parents weren't like that. They checked in every now and then, they took an interest in (Y/n)'s life. But they weren't as involved as Evan thought a parent should be. It allowed Evan to be the main, prominent person in (Y/n)'s life, the person she went to first and who she relied on. It allowed him to look after her in his own way without someone commenting or trying hustle in.

Plus, it meant that they didn't make a fuss when (Y/n) moved in with Evan only a few months after they started dating. And when he proposed last month, her parents were happy. They didn't complain or worry that it was too soon because they weren't that involved in (Y/n)'s life.

With a groan, (Y/n) dropped her phone beside her on the counter and slumped her head forward onto Evan's shoulder. She laid her cheek on his shoulder and draped both arms back around his neck, pulling him closer so their chests were merged together again.

"What'd she say?" He asked again while he pecked the top of her head and started to glide his thumbs up and down her lower back while his fingers squeezed into her skin.

"Cathy's got a promotion at work, mum's throwing a celebration dinner next week." (Y/n) couldn't help the way she grumbled as she spoke.

Cathy was her older sister. The one her parents paid the most attention to. It was another reason why she and Evan bonded so well; where Evan got along amazing with Maddie, (Y/n) was distant from her big sister. But both she and Evan were the younger siblings, they were the ones who were often left out and forgotten and not as involved with their parents.

When (Y/n) told her parents she and Evan got engaged they were happy, they congratulated them, but they didn't throw a celebration dinner. All Cathy had done was gained a promotion at a job that she only got because her boyfriend was one of the executives.

"You wanna go?"

"I don't know… will you come?"

Evan rolled his lips together to supress a smile and he wriggled one hand out of her jeans so he could reach across for her phone. He looked over the message and checked the date. It was his day off.

"Sure, I'll go with you, baby." Evan could tell by her expression that she wouldn't last long at that dinner if he didn't go with her.

She barely walked out the house unless Evan went with her. She wouldn't go to her parent's house and watch them celebrate her sister if Evan wasn't there to calm her down and look out for her. He would keep her calm, he would be there if she didn't feel well or if she felt too uncomfortable to stay or if she ended up arguing with Cathy.

(Y/n) barely managed to mumble a quiet 'thank you' before Evan's lips were bruisingly attached to hers and he shuffled her off the counter so she was sat on his hips instead.

He was more than happy to take her to a family meal; after all, Evan was only one who looked out for her properly.

He had to keep an eye on her.

***

A look of annoyance plastered across Evan's face for what felt like the fifth time since they arrived. His lips pursed, his chin tilted up almost in a look of defiance and his lips rolled together until they were barely visible.

In the year that Evan and (Y/n) had been together, he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting Cathy before.

From what he had seen tonight, he didn't like her.

He tried to hide the displeasure from his face when he felt Cathy's hand on his arm as she walked past him. The way she squeezed his bicep and looked up at him with that sickly sweet smile made Evan's stomach churn.

She was trying her best, he would admit that. She was trying her luck with getting as close to Evan as possible without making it seem too obvious. She had grabbed his arm enough times in the last hour as she passed him or weaved around him. She was grinning at him, tilting her head at that angle and leaned closer whenever he talked.

He had seen it all before, and none of it impressed him. The only girl who captured Evan's attention was the younger sister on his left who had been burrowing into his side since they got here like she wanted to disappear.

(Y/n) was the only girl on his mind and Evan would make that crystal clear, as many times as he had to until Cathy got the message. He wasn't interested. She wasn't his type. (Y/n) was his girl; she was the one he was engaged to and nothing was going to change that or change Evan's mind.

He was glad (Y/n) hadn't noticed. If she knew what her sister was up to then she would become insecure and want to leave. Evan didn't want her getting upset, although he wasn't opposed to spending the rest of the night showing her every way in which he loved her.

When Cathy leaned into him, Evan leaned to the side and took a step back, acting as if he were moving out of the doorway when really, he was moving from her touch.

(Y/n) moved to sit down on the sofa next to her mum and when she kept her hands wrapped around Evan's arm, he took the hint. He followed with her and perched down on the arm rest so (Y/n) could lean into his side and curve herself around his thigh like she was trying to mould them both together.

He carefully slid his arm from her grasp so he could loop his arm around her shoulders. His fingers began to feather up and down her arm as Cathy came back into the room with a tray of drinks.

She dished out the drinks, handing Evan and her dad a bottle of beer each before she held out glasses to (Y/n) and their mum and took one for herself.

"Oh, I haven't eaten yet, I-"

"Relax, it's non-alcoholic." The grin on Cathy's face made (Y/n) swallow down any protest she was going to try and give.

She knew Cathy had been making a few cocktails in the kitchen when they arrived and (Y/n) had asked earlier for a non-alcoholic one. But she wasn't sure if Cathy would of remembered or bothered to make one without the vodka and the peach schnapps.

It didn't seem to matter that they had both lived under the same roof for the first fifteen years of (Y/n)'s life, her big sister never seemed to pay much attention when it came to (Y/n)'s diabetes. She was forever reminding Cathy whenever they went out to eat with their parents that (Y/n) wasn't on a diet, she just had to watch what carbohydrates and saturates she ate because of how they would boost or lower her sugar levels.

It was the same with drinking. (Y/n) wasn't much of a drinker, it was an acquired taste she didn't have, but she liked a drink on the odd occasion. Whenever she had alcohol, (Y/n) had to measure what she drank and make sure she ate too and adjusted her insulin levels. Alcohol messed with her sugar levels very badly. It seemed easier not to bother drinking than to take all the precautions.

Cathy grinned when (Y/n) accepted the glass and they both watched their mum grin and gasp a little when she realised how much vodka Cathy had added to her drink.

(Y/n) took a few sips and scrunched her nose up. Cathy had added a lot of cranberry juice which made it rather bitter, but it was okay. (Y/n) liked the fruity mixture.

She leaned into Evan's thigh and after finishing another glass when Cathy held out another round, their mum headed to the kitchen saying dinner would just about be ready.

"You good?" Evan murmured into the top of her hair while (Y/n) set her empty glass down on the coffee table.

She nodded and leaned over to look at his watch. This was around the usual time they would have something to eat, (Y/n) tried to keep to regular eating patterns to stop her levels from becoming unbalanced. She wouldn't be much good in Evan's line of work since he told her they were often skipping meals or delaying meals for call outs.

They weren't exactly late for eating dinner today, but (Y/n) felt oddly hungry and when she started to flex her fingers on her lap, she noticed she was subtly shaking. She clenched both hands together and pressed them down into her thighs so Evan wouldn't notice. She didn't want him to worry. She was probably just extra hungry due to her nerves about coming here tonight.

"Food's ready."

(Y/n) felt herself go lightheaded for a moment when she got to her feet, but it was comforting to feel Evan's arm swoop in and deadlock around her waist. She let her head fall into the centre of his chest and she bound both her arms around her chest as they walked through into the dining room.

Her mum's cooking was no match for what Evan would cook, but it was still enticing. (Y/n) had gotten Evan quite a few cook books recently because on his days off he was starting to do lots of cooking and testing out the recipes Bobby showed him at work.

Evan tried not to sigh when they sat around the table; of course Cathy would sit close to him.

He had (Y/n) on his left, both her parents sat opposite them and then Cathy had taken the seat at the right end of the table. Close enough that she could lean over and be in Evan's personal space. If she moved her elbow an inch too far she would knock into his arm. And she was near enough that simply crossing her leg over the other would jolt her foot into Evan's thigh.

He looked to his left when (Y/n) reached out for the glass in front of her; Cathy had taken the liberty of bringing all their drinks through to the dining room and refilled them.

(Y/n) was thirsty tonight; drinking too much fruit juice would give her too much sugar, but being thirsty was also a sign that her levels might not be right. Maybe they were starting to drop and she needed to eat to level out again.

He felt the way (Y/n) leaned into him as they began to eat. He loved how she nuzzled her cheek into his arm and pressed up into his side like she was trying to tuck herself under his arm.

Like she was seeking his protection.

Evan loved it; it drove him mad. He slid his left hand beneath the table and started to trace his fingers across (Y/n)'s inner thigh and he felt the way it made her take a sharp breath. When he trailed his hand up higher and pinched the top of her thigh, he felt the way she straightened in her chair and tried her best not to react.

He kept his hand there for a while and tilted his head to the right when Cathy began to speak.

"So Buck, tell us, how does it feel to be the hero?"

Cathy perched her chin on the back of her left hand and leaned closer in Evan's direction while she prodded her fork at her food. The way she grinned at him didn't impress him and he kept his hand on (Y/n)'s thigh while he tried to muster a passive smile.

"I'm not a hero, I just do my job." He didn't see himself as a hero, he hadn't done anything special on the job to warrant that name.

"Oh please, I've read the news. A tsunami and helping that biker trapped in the car windshield at Halloween, both when you were off shift. Either you're always on duty or you are a hero." Cathy waved her fork in his direction before she continued to eat.

He felt the way (Y/n) twisted her head to perch her chin on his shoulder and the feeling of her breath tickling his neck made him shiver.

"You can take a little credit, you know." (Y/n) murmured softly before she tried to keep eating, even though she felt Evan's hand retract from her thigh so he could pick up his knife again.

She knew Evan didn't value himself highly on the job when he should, and she knew he didn't always see the things he did as something special. But he was great at what he did and to the people he helped, Evan was visioned as a hero. He could take credit for that, it wouldn't make him big-headed or give him an ego.

He nodded and made a show of leaning over to peck (Y/n)'s temple before he finished eating.

He knew what Cathy was doing, and he wouldn't let her get a rise out of him or think that he was even the tiniest bit interested.

He wasn't.

The girl he loved was sat to his left. (Y/n) was the one who had his heart. She was the one Evan looked after, the one who needed him and relied on him and who Evan was fiercely protective over. Evan loved how much (Y/n) needed him and how she relied on him; he loved that she didn't go out unless he went with her, how she only felt safe when Evan went somewhere with her. He loved how she ran everything past him before she went somewhere or even thought about doing something.

He loved that she seemed to revolve herself around him because it meant Evan could make her the centre of his world. He didn't have to worry about not knowing where she was or who she was with or if she was okay because she told him these things. Almost as if it was conditioned into her to tell Evan all of these things.

Evan had the control he needed and he didn't have to ask for it.

The conversation shift again and Evan was a little annoyed that whatever they talked about seemed to constantly revolve back around to Cathy. It was like she was the sun and things were orbiting around her, their conversations, their attention, the mood in general, everything was guided from and back to her.

When the attention shifted to (Y/n), Evan could feel himself riling up when the spotlight once again shone on Cathy. She couldn't let (Y/n) have one moment in the light.

(Y/n) closed her eyes for a moment and moved her hand to cradle her temple. Eating hadn't made her feel much better. She knew she had to give it time for her body to straighten itself out and get her levels back to normal, but it usually happened faster than this. She didn't like feeling like this, especially not when she was with her family or in public.

"So, have you set a date yet?"

(Y/n) managed to open her eyes and she leaned to the right to lay her head on Evan's arm when she felt his hand move back down beneath the table to cup her thigh.

"We were thinking, p-probably April." She smiled and kept her head on Evan's arm, but it was hard to concentrate on her parents sitting opposite when her head felt like it was going to explode. Although she did see her mum nod approvingly and her dad grinned.

"That soon? Is there something you need to tell us?" The way Cathy rose a brow and inclined her head made (Y/n) shudder and shake her head.

It wasn't as if they were planning the wedding next month. It was next year, granted it would only be roughly five or six months away, but even that felt like too long to be waiting. They wanted to get married; (Y/n) had a hard enough time as it was stopping Evan from wanting to elope and get married tomorrow. He was always giving her good reasons. The only reason she kept saying no was because she wanted their friends to be there with them.

They weren't planning an elaborate wedding, it would be a small ceremony with the team, their parents and one or two other close family members. That would be it. (Y/n) knew as long as Maddie and Jee were there, Evan didn't care about anyone else in his family. He wanted them and the team, that was it and (Y/n) felt the same. She wanted her parents there, but she would be just as happy if for some reason they couldn't make it. Evan's family was her family now.

"No, nothing like that." (Y/n) tried to grin and make light of her sister's joke, she knew it was only meant in jest. And if (Y/n) were pregnant like Cathy implied, their wedding would be much sooner than six months away.

She nuzzled her cheek into Evan's arm when she heard him mutter "Not yet, anyway," around the rim of his glass.

Evan felt her smiling against his arm as she pushed into him a little more, but when he tilted his head to look down at her, he couldn't help but frown. His lips attached to the top of her head and his hand tightened around her thigh.

"Are you okay?"

"Headache."

Somehow, Evan wasn't so sure a headache was the only problem. He could feel (Y/n) trembling against him like she was sat out in the freezing cold rather than in a warm, heated dining room.

With pursed lips, Evan moved his free hand and pressed the back of his hand against her temple. She was flushed and he could feel a layer of sweat coating her skin. None of these were good implicators. Especially not when (Y/n) looped both her hands around his bicep and leaned into him as she trembled and juttered back and forth on her seat.

Evan didn't care what topic of conversation Cathy tried to steer the atmosphere towards. He leaned his cheek on top of (Y/n)'s head and fished his phone out of his pocket so he could scroll onto her Dexcom app. He had the app on his phone too, for safety reasons. It meant if Evan was at work, he could keep an eye on (Y/n) and make sure she was okay and her levels weren't drastically rising or falling while he was out and she was home alone.

"Baby you're having a hypo." Evan rolled his lips together as he looked down at (Y/n).

He hated the way her eyes blew wide but the way she stared up at him like a lost puppy needing guidance made his stomach tighten.

Her hands tightened around his arm and she tilted her head back so she could look up at him, but it seemed to set her off balance and her head lolled back a little too far. Evan reached his right hand around and cupped the back of her neck to stop her head from tilting too far back and hurting her neck.

" But I hav- I've had my insulin." The way she stared up at him and the panic in her voice made Evan go soft and turned his insides to mush.

They both knew she'd had her insulin. Evan had done the injection himself, as he always did, and he gave her the right amount. Usually having too much insulin would cause (Y/n) to have a hypo and Evan was always careful, he knew what he was doing.

It wouldn't play to his advantage now for (Y/n) to go into a hypo, it would only serve to panic her in front of her family and make her feel worse. It wasn't like a few months ago when (Y/n) had suffered with hypos during the night. That stopped her from leaving the house without Evan and made her even more anxious than before and therefore, she clung to Evan. That had played to his advantage.

Evan glanced over at (Y/n)'s plate, as if somehow the contents would change and show that she'd had too much carbohydrates. But the food was the same as he'd eaten. Her mum always knew how to portion food correctly to go with (Y/n)'s diet.

"I know, but you need some sugar now." Evan stroked his thumb up and down the back of her neck while he looked down at his phone to see how badly this hypo was becoming. As long as he got some sugar into (Y/n)'s system quick, her levels should start to creep back up and they could avoid a hospital visit.

"Oh, why don't you sit in the kitchen, the sweets and stuff are in there." The way Cathy waved her hand was rather dismissive, as if this was nothing at all.

She motioned her hand towards the kitchen behind her and reached out for her drink like this wasn't a big deal. Sure, Cathy had seen (Y/n) have hypos and hyperglacemia before, she had seen (Y/n) collapse and need an ambulance one or two times when she used to live at home. But that didn't mean that this situation was okay and it rubbed Evan up the wrong way how dismissive she was being.

"Evan," Panic lit up (Y/n)'s voice as she held her breath and looked up at him with worry in her eyes.

She didn't want to be alone. Evan always looked after her, especially when she was going through a hypo like this. Being on her own in this situation always made her nervous, she had been through these situations enough to know how bad they made her feel. She felt sick, she shook, her limbs felt heavy and her head ached. Sometimes she fainted.

(Y/n) wanted Evan to stay with her, she didn't want to go and sit in the kitchen on her own and suffer through this.

"It's okay sweetheart, I'm coming with you."

Evan pushed up from his seat and held his hands out towards her to help her up. But once she was on her feet, he watched how (Y/n) coiled in on herself and how her whole body was reduced to shaking. Her breaths started to run away without her and the way she nibbled on her lower lip showed she was really starting to feel unwell.

He grabbed his phone and hooked both their drinks in his right hand while his left arm secured around (Y/n)'s waist and pulled her into his side. His lips merged with the top of her head when she burrowed under his arm like she was taking refuge under his wing.

When they got to the kitchen, (Y/n) flopped down into one of the chairs very ungracefully and she flopped both her arms forward onto the kitchen table so her temple could press down into her arms and her eyes fell closed.

Evan set the drinks down on the table and turned to look in the cupboard above the kettle. He knew (Y/n)'s parents had a treats cupboard with biscuits and snacks and sweets. He looked through the basket and found a pack of fizzy, sour sweets before he moved to the fridge and found a can of pop.

He wasn't sure why the fruit juice (Y/n) had been drinking hadn't managed to keep her levels up though. It was supposed to be good for hypos. What kind of fruit juice did Cathy buy?

"No, no baby, sit up for me." Evan laid everything on the table and sat down in the chair beside her.

He was gentle when he twisted her chair so she was facing him and their knees were brushing together. His hands carefully reached out for her and he slowly reeled her up so she was no longer laid across the table. She was rather floppy and unbalanced and it made Evan's lips curl in panic.

"Come on, drink some of this for me."

(Y/n) tried to smother her groan when Evan held out a can of Fanta for her and she tried to drink a few sips but she was starting to feel sick.

Her nerves tingled and her blood fizzled and crackled in her veins when Evan peppered a few kisses against her temple. And when his thumb pushed between her lips and pulled down her lower lip, (Y/n) felt like her brain was short-circuiting.

Each breath she took fanned against Evan's fingers as he gently pulled on her lip and opened her mouth so he could push a sweet past her lips.

The sugar tingled the inside of (Y/n)'s lips and it made her mouth feel dry and thirsty, but she figured that had something to do with the hypo. They usually made her feel thirsty and dehydrated as well as groggy and shaky.

She leaned her cheek against Evan's palm and closed her eyes for a few moments while he pecked her temple and fed her another sweet.

After a few more sips of Fanta and another two sweets, (Y/n) felt like she wasn't being shaken back and forth anymore. She could feel her limbs coming back under her control and her head was calming down rather than feeling like someone was bashing her skull with a hammer.

"That's better," Evan murmured quietly before he inched forward and stole her lips in a kiss. His tongue darted across her lower lip, stealing the tiny flecks of sugar from her mouth and pushing past her lips like she was intoxicating him and he couldn't get enough.

(Y/n) reached her hands out to cup either side of Evan's neck, mostly to keep herself from falling off her chair and slumping across his lap. But she felt the way he shivered when she feathered her fingers up and down his neck.

"How are we doing in here?"

(Y/n) shifted her hands down to hold Evan's shoulders and she angled her head to the left when her mum walked into the kitchen.

She set the plates down in the sink before turning to face the pair of them with a tender, slightly worried look on her face. It was a change for (Y/n) to have someone like Evan taking care of her rather than have her mum usher her into the living room to try and sit her down and help her through it. When she wasn't well seemed to be the only time (Y/n) got her parent's full attention, which was a reason why her and Evan had bonded so well.

"Panic over." Evan smiled before he pecked the top of (Y/n)'s head and started to glide his hand up and down her arm.

"Good, why don't you both come through to the lounge now, come and have a rest."

(Y/n) could feel her knees tensing when she stood up and her legs felt hollow yet heavy at the same time. She didn't feel like moving, but it wasn't as if they were out and about on the streets or walking for miles. She cradled her can of Fanta close to her chest, pinning her elbows into her waist like she was trying to coil in on herself.

She went to follow after her mum but she glanced back over her shoulder to check Evan was behind her. "I'm coming," He nodded while he reached out for his drink and grabbed the pack of sweets from the table. They might need some more sugar, just to be safe and make sure (Y/n)'s levels stayed up.

He tucked his phone back into his pocket after reassuring himself that (Y/n) was actually coming out of her hypo. But he still wasn't sure why the juice hadn't worked.

Curiosity got the better of Evan and he wasn't sure why, but he reached out for (Y/n)'s glass that was almost empty. He took a small sip. Fruit was full of sugar and fruit juice was high in sugar and great for diabetics.

Evan grimaced and his nose crinkled when he took a gulp. That wasn't juice, that was a cocktail.

It was faint, but Evan could taste vodka and the slightest hint of peach schnapps. Evan had been on enough nights out and had enough bad times in his life to resort to drinking to make himself feel better. He knew what a cocktail tasted like. He also knew that Cathy wasn't stupid, she knew (Y/n) couldn't have alcohol unless she adjusted her insulin and especially not on an empty stomach.

(Y/n) had told her she didn't want alcohol when they came in tonight and Cathy had blatantly ignored and lied to her.

She could have sent (Y/n) into a worse hypoglycaemic state. She could have put her in the hospital, she had risked (Y/n)'s health tonight like she thought this was some kind of game.

Well it wasn't. This wasn't a game and Evan wasn't going to stand for what Cathy had done to his girl.

Evan tossed the glass into the sink with a bit more abandon than he intended and he was sure he heard the glass crack. His fingers began to drum around the neck of his beer bottle and he dumped the sweets back on the table as his arms started to tremble with rage.

"Need another drink?" The sultry tone to Cathy's voice had shivers coursing up and down Evan's spine.

He snapped his head to look behind him over his right shoulder and he took a deep breath as his lips rolled into a thin line until they were almost invisible. The way she walked towards him with her hips swaying infuriated him and when her hand reached out and squeezed his bicep, Evan felt like his vision had been tinted red.

He hummed quietly, twisting his body to follow her movements as she walked past him to aim for the fridge, and Evan found himself stalking after her. He moved slow, feet barely lifting from the floor as not to make a sound like a predator stalking its prey.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides after he set his bottle down on the counter and his shoulders hunched up to be level with his jaw. His biceps seemed like they were bulging out of his shirt and Evan glowered when he realised how he towered over Cathy the same as he did (Y/n).

But this was was different. This wasn't Evan towering over (Y/n), trying to pin her to his chest and consume her whole. This wasn't him wrapping around her like a security blanket or using his height and build to his advantage to subdue (Y/n) and turn her to putty in his hands.

This was Evan towering over the person he was getting ready to destroy. The person who had threatened the girl Evan loved, the girl who was Evan's whole world and who he made it his mission to look after and make her his.

Cathy had tried to hurt her, and she had to pay for that.

When Cathy reached the fridge, she sensed just how close Evan was standing behind her and instead of opening the fridge, she turned around. Her grin broadened until her smile was reaching her seductive eyes and her head angled to the right while she leaned her back against the fridge.

"Oh, so-"

Whatever she had been prepared to say faded into a gasp as her painted rouge lips splintered into a gasp and her teeth flashed when Evan's hand curled around her throat.

Tears welled up in her eyes and both her hands scratched into Evan's wrist, but he didn't feel her touch. He could barely feel his hands from the amount of adrenaline coursing through his veins so her nails trying to scratch at his skin wasn't going to make a dent on him.

He leaned down until Cathy was well and truly a caged animal and he moved his free hand to press his finger against her sickly red lips that were so bright the colour was offending. She seemed to get the silent message he was conveying and she held her breath, even though she could barely breathe as it was. Her head started to nod and her chin pressed down into his hand to try reassure him that she wasn't about to scream or make a single sound to alert her family what he was doing.

"Now you're not going to cause another scene, you're going to listen." His voice was quiet but the authoritiative tone was crystal clear.

He waited patiently for Cathy's terrified, wide eyes to blink and focus on him and for her to stop breathing in so much it felt like she was a balloon about to burst. When she finally started to exhale and take shallow little breaths, Evan's lips formed a crooked grin that made her shudder back against the fridge.

She let a tiny hum gurgle at the back of her throat and she rapidly blinked to try and convey that she was listening. She was waiting for him to tell her what on Earth he was doing and why.

"I don't think I need to ask why I tasted vodka in (Y/n)'s glass, do I?" Cathy shook her head and a tiny croak left her lips. She had been caught out and they both knew it. "That's what I thought. And do I take it you caused that hypo on purpose, somehow to gain my attention?"

Evan wasn't quite sure why Cathy thought that giving (Y/n) a hypo would get her to have his attention rather than (Y/n). This little stunt had made Evan worried about (Y/n), it made him want to take her home to keep her safe, especially now he knew that this had happened on purpose and was by no means a coincidence.

Doing that to (Y/n) was only going to raise Evan's concerns about her and drive him wild. It wasn't going to make him suddenly fawn over Cathy or want to be closer to her. He would of given her any attention even if he hadn't of found out what she'd done.

When she nodded again, Evan watched as tears began to well up in her eyes and one or two tears trickled down her face. She looked feeble and timid which wasn't her usual personality and the way her lower lip was wobbling made Evan want to laugh crudely at her.

It was clear she was feeling silly about what she'd done. Evan hoped she realised how stupid she had been rather than feeling bad that she had been caught out.

"So you've just threatened my girl. And I don't care if you're family, I don't let people get away with that."

His fingers punctured into her throat and he gave a rather forceful squeeze until Cathy's eyes were bulging in their sockets and her jaw started to wriggle. Her hands slapped his wrist and she pushed back into the fridge, desperately trying to make him relent. Her chin dropped down onto his hand as fresh tears began to trickle down her face as she couldn't catch a single breath.

He revelled in the utter panic in Cathy's eyes and the desperation shrouding her face as her feet started to skid against the tiled floor and her mouth wriggled, but no sound or air left her paling lips.

The terror on her face made Evan's grin widen and his eyes narrowed. He could of stood there and choked the life out of her. He could of carried on until she passed out and crumpled to the floor like a used tissue. But when she really started to struggle, Evan suddenly relaxed his hand until the base of his fingertips were just barely pressing down on her throat.

He felt the way her pulse throbbed against his fingers and the veins started to protrude against her throat as she gasped and choked, gagging on the air she needed to inhale.

"Please, I won't- I swear, I-" Cathy gasped for air, trying to find the right words but she couldn't talk. Her throat burned like she had swallowed acid and her skin was pulsing and throbbing.

She wouldn't tell. If he didn't do that again and stayed away from her, she wouldn't tell her parents or (Y/n) what he'd just done. She would stay away from both of them if Evan left her alone, she would promise him that. He was unhinged and Cathy wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

"Pleading with me isn't going to work." His grin seemed to widen when Cathy whimpered and shrunk back against the fridge.

"I'm sorry." The word bubbled past her lips as a few more tears of anguish and fear trickled down her face.

She didn't know Evan; if she knew him better and knew he had these kind of tendencies, she wouldn't of given (Y/n) those cocktails. She wouldn't of made those passes at Evan and ignored her little sister. She would of stayed as far away from the couple as possible if she knew he was like this.

Surprise pooled in her blown pupils when Evan took a step back and allowed an air of space to grow between them.

She was expecting him to grab her again, to hit her or break her wrist or maybe even clutch her hair and drag her around like a ragdoll. She was expecting Evan to do something manic, maybe even drag her out the back door and hurt her some more. But Cathy wasn't expecting Evan to let her go and step back.

Was he going to stop? Was this just a warning and he would let her off as long as she didn't do anything else?

Her hands moved to cup her neck and she began tracing her fingers along her throat, rubbing up and down the tender spots where she would have fingerprints and bruises come the morning. She tried to smother her cough into her arm, she didn't want to attract her family's attention. Not when Evan had already warned her to stay quiet.

"Watch your back. I haven't decided yet how you're going to pay for this mistake."

The warning tone in Evan's voice made Cathy whimper and she cowered down, smothering a shriek when Evan's hand latched into her hair. Her eyes fell closed and she coiled her arms to her chest, holding her hands out like she was trying to show she wasn't dangerous or begging for mercy.

She stumbled on her feet as Evan gave her a shove towards the other end of the kitchen where they had a downstairs bathroom right at the back of the house. And she was sure she heard him utter "Disappear." through a grunt before he aimed in the opposite direction towards the living room.

He shook his arms at his sides, ridding the excess adrenaline from his system as he walked into the living room and eased down onto the sofa beside (Y/n). His lips formed into a smile when (Y/n) immediately tucked herself beneath his arm that looped around her shoulders and his lips attached to the top of her head.

"Where's Cathy got to?"

"Bathroom, she didn't look too well." Evan scuffed his free hand across his jaw before he made a slight hint, pointing towards the drinks on the coffee table. Everyone had seen Cathy drink quite a lot tonight and now that her hair had fallen out of its fancy get-up and she had been crying, it would add to the implication that she was drunk.

He was quite surprised (Y/n)'s parents believed the implication, for her dad shook his head with a sigh and her mum made a little dissatisfied noise and shook her hands like she was dismissing the subject. Clearly Cathy wasn't as high and mighty as she liked to make out.

(Y/n) felt like smiling at the notion that Cathy was drunk, it was just like her sister to be boastful and get ahead of herself like this.

Both her parents mused themselves with a quiet conversation about going to check on Cathy as the pair of them flitted about the living room. (Y/n) watched them for a moment before she turned to look at Evan when he leaned over her.

She could feel her nerves igniting and restarting the trembling she'd had earlier when Evan ducked his head down and attached his lips to the junction of her neck just below her jaw. Her hand reached over to grip his arm, silently trying to see what he was up to because although her parents weren't watching them, they were still in the same room.

"Wanna go home, baby?" The way Evan glided his hand over (Y/n)'s thigh made her jump and he grinned against her neck at the reaction.

His teeth grazed over her skin, just starting to create a sting and (Y/n) knew she would have another bruise to add to her collection soon. But she felt his hand crawl across her thigh until his fingers were tracing the inside of her leg, inching higher and higher towards a dangerous area.

"Evan…" She muttered against his temple and pressed a few kisses there to try and ward him to stop. But she was inclined to agree and go home soon. They had been here for long enough and the hypo had made her feel tired and shaky. (Y/n) would rather be at home where she felt safe and comfortable, where it would be just the two of them and it was clear Evan felt the same.

"I wanna take care of you, baby." His words were peppered along her neck like a quiet promise spoken into her skin and (Y/n) found herself nodding into his hair.

It was time to leave.

[howtofightwrite]

Hey! I'm writing a series with a character who is a sniper. She is a private hire and ends up meeting someone who works with shorter ranged guns and weapons.

I'm just wondering how they would differ when killing someone and what are the tells of each weapon. I want to make it clear that the weapons are different but I'm not sure what those differences are

So, something that stuck out to me originally, when reading this is, most snipers are going to have a close range PDW. Whether that's just their sidearm or something more substantial, they'd need to be proficient with something in close quarters if it comes to that.

Now, the hard part about answering this question in the abstract is that, almost everything associated with firearms is extremely date sensitive.

For example, if your CQB/CQC character was originally trained sometime in the late 90s to late 2000s (in a Western country), they'd have likely encountered Center Axis Re-lock. Outside of those 20 years, then that style hadn't seen widespread adoption, or had fallen out of favor.

For some specific film examples, Vincent (Tom Cruise) from Collateral (2004) would have been working as an assassin for at least a decade by the time we see him in the film. We can make this assessment based on the way he handles the USP, and then compare to CQC training. His one-handed disarm and execute he uses in the alley puts his training sometime in the 80s to 90s at the earliest, while his lack of CAR in close quarters tells you he didn't have Western military or law enforcement training after the mid-90s.

Another film example that might surprise you is John Wick (Keanu Reeves). In those films he exhibits CQC training that suggests he still in the military less than 15 years before the events of the first film. Except his CAR stances are actually a little sloppy (which is unusual for Reeves), which suggests that Wick may have observed others using the stance, and then improvised a version of it for his own use. Meaning you can't really estimate when his combat training occurred. (This might also might explain why he's a bit sloppy about when he switches between Weaver and CAR.) By the way, it is quite difficult to pick this out. It took a few experts dinging on the first Wick film before I really started picking up on the issues with Reeves' technique. And I haven't seen anyone else draw the conclusion that Wick is probably self-taught in CAR. (This was corrected for the later films, as Reeves did get proper training in CAR in preparation for the second film.)

In particular, this is a singular example, but there are a lot of things someone can do that will inform you about their background and training. This starts with weapon selection. Things like their preferred sidearm and primary can be very insightful. People tend to go in one of two directions with firearms. Either, they're very willing to adapt and experiment, or they'll find something they're comfortable with and hone in with that specific firearm.

For example, is your sniper carrying around a Remington 700, or something like an MSR or AWM? Both are legitimate answers, but they say very different things about how your character approaches their area of expertise. Similarly, are they carrying a 1911 pattern pistol, or something more modern, like an HK USP or FN P45?

If your sniper is carrying around an AMT Hardballer, and your CQC specialist is carrying around a P45t, your CQC specialist has twice the magazine capacity. They can afford to dump rounds into someone until they stop twitching. Where as a Hardballer is “just” an extremely well made 1911. Their kills are going to look different, but it's a function of the weapon they chose.

Without knowing what they're carrying, it's very hard to answer definitively how their kills will look.

If it was me, kitting out for CQC in a situation where I'd need to hide the weapon under a jacket, I'd seriously consider an AAC Honey Badger hidden under a sport coat. (I know, I trash talked the Honey Badger a few years ago, before getting a good look at one and seeing just how tiny they are. Mea Culpa. I should know better than to shit on a gun I'm unfamiliar with by now. That's a toxic element of gun culture I've been trying to get away from. It still clings a bit sometimes.) Similarly, the Mk18 and Colt 733 are also pretty good options. That's a little bit of an M4a1 bias, but it's a decent platform. There are other valid options, those are just the first that come to mind for me.

If your character was kitting for CQC, and wanted Warsaw pact weapons, the Groza is a bit exotic, but that's what it was designed for. The SR-3M Vikhr is an update of the Val, and a pretty legitimate choice. They're both 9x39mm rifles, so long range accuracy isn't happening, but in close quarters they still hit stupidly hard. Granted, any Krinkov would work in that role. (So, mostly AKS-74Us.) (I think there were some 7.62x39mm Krinkovs, but I can't remember the name.)

So, ultimately, identifying the differences between the weapons, starts with knowing what the weapons are. Having a basic idea of how they handle (even if that's not first hand), and then being able to see how they differ from one another. This is made even harder in the sense that modern firearms have become extremely modular. Given the option to fully kit out the same gun for you CQC specialist, it's a pretty good bet you and I would walk away with distinctly different end results. Even if the base model was the same. (For the record, I'm not saying my configuration would be better. I have biases and preferences that aren't necessarily the best option available.)

The best place to start, is looking at the kinds of weapons your character would use. Your sniper's going to want a long range precision rifle and a sidearm. She might also go for a small machine pistol/SMG. Your CQC specialist would probably prioritize an actual primary. That might be an SMG, a carbine, or even a shotgun (because nothing says hello quite like three or four 12 gauge shells pumped out of a fully automatic Saiga. (And before someone corrects me, yes, I know, there are no production full-auto Saigas, however they can be illegally modified for full-auto.)

Once you know how different the weapons are, you can start digging into how the characters themselves approach combat, and how their respective styles differ.

-Starke

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[melliemell]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT.. POCKY GAME WITH THE BSD CAST (preferably Ranpo and Dazai, feel free to add whoever u want!!) MAKE IT ROMANTIC TOO PLZ I CANT GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD🙏🙏🙏

LOTS OF LOVE - an anon who lost their glasses

👀👀this... this was too fun to write ohmygod you have no idea

Now you've managed to get me stuck on thoughts of silly little moments with those losers too aaAAAAAA I gotchu nonnie, you ask and I deliver😌

BSD Cast ft. Pocky Game

(Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Chuuya; high-key suggestive, blame them not me)

Dazai

“It’s a very delicate procedure.”

“Mmm, big boy business, I see.”

“Shush. Good students listen to their sensei first and give smartass remarks later. Now…” 

 It would be Dazai’s idea, not surprising in the slightest. The thing is, he’d be very convincing about this, all sweet smiles and an offhand remark how cute it’d be ‘cause couples are supposed to do sappy things, duh. An innocent enough suggestion, one you found amusing but nothing to bat an eye about. 

Until you add Dazai’s complete disregard for social norms and he’d be pulling those things out in the most embarrassing, inconvenient places he could think of. Mostly to annoy you, secondly to see how red in the face you’d get if he put you in a compromising situation. And oh boy do those happen often. 

One moment you’d be in the middle of discussing important work matters with Atsushi, the next Dazai’s sliding up in your personal space, pocky already hanging at his lips. Worst is he’d act as though this is your average activity, batting his lashes all sweetly at you as he waited. If you snap the pocky with your hand instead he’d react as though it was his heart you just crushed, you cruel beauty of his.

It’s all fine though, things considered. So long as he does get his kiss in the end. Behind some privacy this time.

Ranpo

No. Do not engage with this man in a pocky game, he will be an absolute menace about it.

Unlikely to suggest it himself as it means he’d have to share his snacks with you. Could be convinced if informed of the chance of getting free smooches though. But he’d whine about it, probably already munching on the pack you bought as you were explaining the rules to him.

In the case of you managing to save some for the actual thing…

“Yeah, yeah, can you get on with it? I wanna play already.”

Ranpo does not, in fact, play. The moment you get in place, both of you biting onto your respective side, Ranpo all but throws away any and all rule-information you gave. Who needs those? Only losers, that’s who.

He’s already bitten off almost the entirety of the pocky, lips finding yours a second later as his he pulls you in, hands smashing up your cheeks on both sides. You can practinally hear him munching on the chocolate which makes this all the more hilarious. Talk about mixed priorities. 

Second try goes just as the first one; any illusions of a game forgotten as you were pretty sure Ranpo’s impatience wasn’t quite something you were equipt for…

The third and final chance (last pocky, unfortunately he ate the rest) wasn’t really a chance, honestly. Not when you could just push him back on the couch and kiss him stupid as you climbed atop. 

He might get the remaining pocky later. Maybe.

Fyodor

“How charming.”

Would be amused by the whole thing. Unexpectedly easy to convince, and it gets even weirder as he calmly complies with the rules, nodding patiently. Before you know it you’re staring down at each other, one pocky distance between you two.

Not the type to rush into things, letting you get closer to him instead. Expect a lot of raised eyebrows and chaste kisses as you get through the whole pack. Did you think this was a one go thing? Silly you. A happy, satisfied partner is a compliant one, after all. Little things like this cost him nothing, but could bring a smile on your face. Why would he waste an opportunity like that?

Unlikely to push things further… but just as unlikely to stop you from leaving a few more kisses on him. One or two at the edge of his lips. One accidentally finding its way on his jaw. A trail of feathery brushes down his throat and soon he’d be getting the memo pretty well. 

You can’t help it. There’s something about Fyodor’s damned calmness that always leads to this. Maybe it’s the presence of character; something solid and secure before you that always manages to crawl under your skin. You’d be pulling at his shirt and trousers before you know it, pocky game entirely forgotten.

Chuuya

This one’s a trickie.

Chuuya’d be split between wanting to give in to your sillies, but also… why? Why this? Why not go to that nice and fancy restaurant he talked to you about? The one with the molten chocolate cakes; he’d treat you to all the sweets in the world if you’d ask him. 

Embarrassed at first, and trying his best to sneakily pull himself out of the situation. Until you finally manage to corner him, pocky box in hand and a roguish glint in your eyes.

Maybe it was his dignity, or maybe he was playing too much into the tough guy persona. But the moment you sat him down, a winner’s determination written all over your face– oh, no. Hell no, this was on.

Forget about any cute couple moments. Oh nono, it was all narrowed eyes and prolonged stares of intense analysis, each trying to predict the others’ move. One wrong decision, just the slightest distraction and–

Before Chuuya had you round the waist, rolling you suddenly on the bed as a panicked yelp flew from your lips. The absolute ass. And he’d be laughing about it too, looking down at your sprawled form with the goofiest smile, trying to bite into his lower lip to stifle yet another fit. 

“You all good, sweets? Guess ya lost this round.”

And you’d pull him down, your breath ghosting over his widening grin.

“We’ll see about that.”

[stacygetsit]

Just some thoughts

I wanted to share some of what's been on my mind. Some of you may have come across my ask before I am Calm theory anon. And I have always voiced my opinions on anon ask on others blogs. It was where I was the most comfortable. Well I decided today that I was going to put some of the calm and realistic thoughts out there on my own blog. See I am a Lukola shipper for those that don't know me. Now I am a recent shipper. I have never shipped anyone in my life. Never watched Bridgerton at all. Yet here I am devoting hours to them. One of my thoughts recently was I truly believe that Luke and Nic are in a relationship. I understand that people need more hard-core proof of a relationship between them before they believe. But what mind boggles me is that they believe that Nic is dating JD just because they held some hands and visited places together. And funny how we have the same situation with Luke and the girl (i won't ever name her) all we have seen was them going places and a weak hand hold. None of this is actual concrete proof that they are more than friends. I find it really funny that all of the photos beside Lukes new year eve kiss in January we don't actually have any recent proof of any of these couples kissing or having any type of PDA. How can that be when fans and paps have caught them out? Why haven't we seen any PDA? Another thing that's been on my mind is Nicola. I read that she was on a podcast during Covid and stated that she lived with her last boyfriend. How is it that she was able to fully live with a human and no one knew about him? Yes, she wasn't as worldly popular but she still had a following from Derry girls. How is it that she kept even now to this day the guy from being found out? She makes it clear who her friends are. We also know who her family is. Yet we didn't know who she was dating. Y'all she lived with him and we knew nothing. So if her natural habit is to keep her relationships private would she post her man all over the place? I know the other side argues that she's more widely known now and she can't keep her private life secret. Yet she still has kept who her last boyfriend was a secret. yet the masses would like us to believe that she's with JD. I'm sorry I just feel like that's too far away from what she's comfortable with which is keeping her relationship on the low. That's just taking just Nic past habits into account. That's too far away from her natural habits. We know that during the world tour we found out some key things. We know that Nic and Luke hang out outside of work. They said it in an interview. We also know that he gave her something that she cherishes. Because they said it in an interview. My point is that we wouldn't know any of that if they didn't say it an in interviews. So it blows my mind that people think that they have this couple all figured out and they're so dead set that they're with other people. You're basing your opinions on assumptions and calling them a fact. It would be different if they officially launched to the world I think a lot of people to respect Nick and Luke and whomever they wanted but we haven't gotten that. So it's really possible that those of us that people call delusional are correct. We don't know these people. We can only go based on what we know. I want to preface by saying that I will always say I think not I know Or act like what I think is a fact I'm not like those creators. Part of me understands why Luke and Nick are so secretive. I understand that they want to keep their private life private. And I can respect that but the reality is they're celebrities now. Every career comes with a sacrifice and that's their sacrifice. But are they really keeping it a secret? If you Look hard enough you see they leave hints they are together.

[writingadvicesavingcometcon]

I've recently learned that I can't write smutt unless I focus 100% on the characters, their dynamic and the thematic purpose of the sex scene. I'm currently writing Tucker/Felix from Red vs Blue and the moment I figured out why Felix was doing any of this was the moment I got ideas for scenes. Because while the story is from Tucker's perspective (Felix is too rancid for me to try to write in the headspace of and since my stories always need to have the abuse victim being empowered and breaking free after a period of time in the story under the shitty treatment of the abuser, I find everything just flows better if the focus is on them and how it affects them rather than the perpetrator and what their mental process for doing it is), Felix is the driving force of the story because his goal is to break Tucker because he's bored and Tucker is the shiny new plaything (I still have to understand WHY Felix does what he does and how he sees things, I just don't put the focus on him by putting us directly in his head because it's unnecessary and Tucker's feelings are far more important as the person he's mistreating).

Their entire dynamic is so interesting to me and I found once I focused entirely on how Felix would carefully, delicately escalate - constantly testing Tucker's lines and then casually nudging them a few centimetres further until he gets used to accepting that - I knew exactly what to do because I just had to follow Felix's reasoning, thought patterns and long-game plan to reel Tucker in and make him do what he wants.

The prose itself only comes with practice unfortunately, but I cannot stress enough - especially as a gray-ace person who really struggles with finding sex scenes interesting when it's just a sequence of physical sex acts with no rhyme or reason for those specific characters with that specific dynamic to be doing the same cookie cutter barbie doll bumping bullshit they do in filmed real person porn - how important it is for you to focus on your characters and dynamics and existing themes if you're stuck on what to do, exactly as OP said.

Also one quick addition from me: don't be afraid to toss in some unusual factor into the scene.

Felix draws Tucker in with a card game he turns into basically strip poker and uses that plus the sexual interest he built in Tucker from other scenes previously plus pushing on Tucker's natural competitive nature/wanting Felix to respect and like him and uses all of that as the springboard to pressure Tucker into more and more things until Tucker falls into sunk cost fallacy combined with arousal (as well as being drunk because of course Felix included drinking into his slow reel-in methods) combined with the conditioning Felix has already been building in him to do as he's told via how he runs the card game, with a consistent focus on making it easy to pass off to Tucker and others as his own ideas/he was consenting the whole time because he chose to do things himself etc (and we just 'ignore' the fact Felix outright pressured and manipulated him into every single escalation throughout the scene in some way; of course we don't actually ignore it as I do my best to make it subtly clear to attentive readers what Felix is doing, I just also have Tucker be the unreliable narrator who is lying REALLY hard to himself/falling hook, line and sinker for Felix's bullshit).

All of that ended up giving me something new and interesting to build the scene around, which helped influence some of the physical act choices, which then consistently aligned with the themes of making Tucker 'choose' to do things, consistently handing Felix all of the power in the scene (and him doing things/manipulating Tucker and the situation to take it back again any time he loses it for even a second) and steadily moving those boundaries in Tucker's mind at a snail's pace I think he would reliably accept under Felix's careful pace and fine adjustments as necessary to keep him on course.

I'll be posting it hopefully some time within the next year. I have another story I want to finish and post first which focuses on the fascinatingly similar vibes between BDSM and military culture (the latter being a toxic non-sexual version of the former with a complete lack of self-awareness) and therefore has to involve choices which reflect the characters' start in military behaviours then a shifted interest/focus on consensual and caring dominance/submission between them (instead of the highly dubious consent of the malicious-intent long-game manipulative power imbalance between Felix and Tucker).

Once Tucker escapes Felix, I want him to have a recovery fic where he tries to process what happened and take back his control through exploring with Washington, someone who actually cares about him and will do his absolute best not to cause more harm while trying to figure out where the actual lines are with a man who wants to take back control over things a shitty person traumatised him with but may or may not actually be ready for each thing he wants to do. So everything I write for them MUST revolve around that and resolving it and Tucker taking back his autonomy and healing in whatever ways he needs, and Washington trying to help facilitate that while being concerned over making sure he doesn't just retraumatise the poor guy.

But yeah. Everything became actually possible even as a gray-ace when I stopped trying to force myself to focus on SexActsTM and instead put ALL of the focus on the characters themselves and how they interact with each other generally and what they would do within a smutt scene in a way that stay consistent with the entire point of their story.

(Do what you want forever of course, but if you can't write smutt because you don't know what to have the characters do and it's always boring to you and others, a lack of what OP mentions is why.)

Advice for writing smut???

gonna do bullet-points of things i tend to live by when it comes to smut (this is just my opinion):

don't switch styles: the way you write the smut has to be consistent with the way you write the rest of the story, so if your story is more comedic or romcom-y in nature, the way you write the smut should have those stylings. i personally find it very jarring when authors decide to break the format for the smut, almost like the story has to stop for the sex intermission; if you're writing a horror story, the smut must be informed and influenced by that genre, and if you are breaking genre for the smut portion, tell us why you're suddenly switching gears (it has to be an aesthetic choice you're making on purpose). likewise, if your style in that story is more lyrical, the smut has to be somewhat lyrical too, or if your story is more cormac mccarthy-esque-cut-and-dry, the smut can't suddenly involve an effluvia of purple, sappy prose. integrating the smut in the story and treating it like any other part of the story is key to me. too often i've seen ppl switch to this anonymous pornified style when they get to the smut

which brings me to specificity. i'll talk about het sex, since that's what i tend to write most: not all men are going to be fingering or eating pussy the same way, not all dicks are big and they shouldn't be, not all women immediately get excited by fingering, not everyone moans the same way or makes the same sounds. you're writing about particular characters so it has to be particular to them. i know this is very old advice, but i think it bears repeating

there isn't an exact formula or sequence you have to follow, there aren't precise steps, you don't have to go "well, first he has to kiss down her neck, then reach the boob area, then play with the nipples, then put the nipple in his mouth, then slowly go down on her, then prepare her for entering her etc. etc. etc." this can get boring and repetitive and you start thinking of your characters as these mechanical dolls who have to fuck for your audience. and that can be a vibe too, if you do it on purpose. but sometimes you can get stuck in a porn routine (and ofc, having only the guy show initiative can also get boring)

in order to break that, insert some character moments. what are the characters thinking during this? sometimes they might be thinking of something completely unrelated on the surface, but which has a thematic relevance that can make the scene hotter. likewise, maybe they're doing smth that seems unsexy on the surface, but which, within the context of the story might be really hot. sex doesn't just involve, well, sex, but so much weirdness and humanity and creativity. two bodies (usually) are trying to do this really awkward thing together and they might have a lot of baggage and history to inform it. there's a lot you can do with that.

don't make it glossy and clean, where everyone smells of strawberry shampoo and there is never anything out of sync. the most boring smut tends to be the kind where no one makes any mistakes and everything is super efficient. i imagine it feels like using an industrial pump to milk various farm animals.

and you know what? you can make that hot too. you CAN write a kind of robotic efficient smut and make it really interesting based on the context. let's say you're writing a 1984 AU fic where ppl are forced into intimacy only to procreate and their sex drive is diminished. you can play with that premise and lean into the dehumanizing industrialization of sex, but you have to mean it, aka your narratorial voice must be conscious of these factors.

if you're writing dubcon, make the dubious part present, make sure you draw out the ambivalence and ambiguity. if you're writing noncon, the character whose consent is being violated has to be transformed by this in some way. it can be forced pleasure, for instance, but not only. it has to be a journey for them too, some kind of spiritual pit, or a form of access to terrible knowledge. i know this is a personal thing, but noncon doesn't work for me if the character being noncon'd is just sort of *there*, suffering passively. i think that sort of dead passivity can be done very well too, but the narratorial voice has to persuade me.

that being said, don't be afraid of fear in consensual sex. terror and vulnerability are a part of consensual sex too, imo, and again, depending on the story and the characters, there's a lot you can explore there

i personally find it really hot when the narratorial voice starts discussing some of the ideas that the story wants to convey during the smut. so like, you can characterize person A and outline their worldview and their plans while they're ramming person B, and the thinking & fucking are thus entwined. idk, i dig that

speaking of which, smut can convey world-building details and social/philosophical ideas, not just emotions and character beats

not all smut has to end with mutual orgasm or even one-sided orgasm, it depends what you want to do or where you want to go. again, you don't have to follow a sequence. plus, it's fun (and hot) to write about frustration and failure too.

if you want to mix up the descriptions, resort to the story & characters. you'll find it's easier to describe someone fondling a boob in a new or at least interesting way if you're thinking about that particular character in that particular story, and not just Man X from planet porn (sorry to be snarky, but mainstream erotica is soooo guilty of this)

screaming & really intense reactions are cool but they have to match the characters and the situations

sometimes, it's hotter if an effect is mild or negated, if the usual outcome doesn't happen; mix up the order of events, toy with the usual reactions. it's not about being original, it's about finding out what works for your characters. writing about sex is, in a way, a performance of it, an attempt to go through the sexual motions, to find out what works and doesn't, to engage with the erotics of text (roland barthes entered the chat)

if you are bored by your own smut, that's a problem. i know we all talk about how hard we find writing smut, and IT IS hard, and sometimes it's not enjoyable, because writing itself is often not enjoyable, but even when it's painful and annoying, it gives you that little intellectual kick like "huh, i'm creating this and making these people do this, and ohh look, i can maybe put this unnamable thing into words". but if you become bored, that's a sign you have to look at the language & characters and figure out what's not working for you

last thing i'll underline: pay attention to your narratorial voice. in this ordeal, you are the seducer. not the characters. you have to seduce us with words and context. your voice matters. you have to be confident in your weirdness and particularity. this is your bedroom (so to speak), so invite us in.

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: JJ does something stupid

I tried to pretend like nothing had happened, that everything was fine. We were going to look for the Royal Merchant hoping to find the gold. When we got to the bottom and found the shipwreck, that happiness soon turned into utter disappointment. It wasn't there. Who knows if it had ever been there honestly.

We were headed back to the Chateau and everybody was upset, everything has led up to this and now we don't know where to go from here. Hopefully, someone has a major breakthrough on what to do. We tied the boat up to the dock and headed our separate ways. John B went home, Kie went to the Wreck, Pope went to the library, JJ went home, and I went for a walk. We all just needed our space for a little bit to think about what to do next.

I was walking along the beach, enjoying the weather. It was cloudy and a little windy, which almost messed up our finding the Royal Merchant earlier, but my favorite weather. The dreary weather has always been comforting to me. I wasn't on my walk for long before I heard my name being called. I turned around and saw Rafe and his goons. I rolled my eyes and turned to face him. "Rafe," I said back to him in a drawn-out voice, "Who are you mad at now?"

"Who the hell do your friends think they are?" He yells back at me, causing me to flinch at the sudden change in tone. I take a step back and find my back hitting Topper's chest. "Really, Rafe? I know you hate me, but three to one is a little unfair, dontcha think?" I look behind me at Topper and then over to Kelce who is standing next to Rafe. I cross my arms, annoyed that my walk was being interrupted. Rafe got close to me and took hold of my wrist which caught me off guard. "What the hell, Rafe," I curse at him trying to pull my arm away. That's for sure to leave a bruise.

Rafe gets close to my face causing my heart to beat faster. "Tell those boyfriends of yours that we know," he whispers into my ear. He backs away, still holding my wrist in his hands, and looks at me. I give him a confused look before ripping my wrist away from his grip. He pats the side of my face and smirks before walking away. He glances back at me one last time before I turn and walk away. It didn't take me long before I got to JJ's house. Luke was gone, probably getting drunk.

"JJ, what the hell did you do?" I ask him walking into the backyard where he was sitting. He stands up to look at me. "Why did Rafe, Top, and Kelce just stop me on the beach?" As soon as I mentioned the three, I could see the anger flash through his face. He walks over to me and runs a hand through his hair.

"What did they say?" he asks with guilt lacing his voice. I roll my eyes at him, "They didn't say shit to me J," I say louder this time, getting frustrated over the entire situation. "He said to tell those boyfriends of mine that we know," I repeated what I was told. JJ lets out a sigh before turning around and sitting down.

"So, uh," he starts explaining looking up to me, "you know how Pope had that cut on his forehead?" I nod my head, still not understanding. "Rafe and Topper jumped him, beat him up with a damn golf club. I couldn't just stand by and let them get away with it." JJ looks down and plays with the rings on his fingers, "We sunk Topper's boat."

I look at him with wide eyes, not able to think of what to say to him. He stands up and walks over to me, grabbing my hands. He looks down and I feel his grip loosen, "What is this?" He points to the forming bruise on my wrist. He looks up at me with pleading eyes, "How do you think Rafe stopped me?" I said with anger laced in my voice. I try to storm away from him, but he runs in front of me and puts his hands on my shoulders. "Rafe did that?" I nod my head at him and continue walking, "Will you please just talk to me?"

"J, please just," I look him in the eyes and can see the worry in them, "leave me alone." He is taken aback and steps aside, letting me walk away. I turn around and look at him, "I just need a second."

It was more than a second by a few hours. I just needed a second to think about what they did before I responded out of anger. I walk to the Chateau and see JJ by the dock. He's looking over the edge of the railing. I start walking up to him and he turns around and just looks at me. He raises his eyebrow at me, wondering what I was doing. "I'm sorry J," I tell him walking up to him and resting my elbows on the railing. He hasn't taken his eyes off me, "I didn't mean to just leave." I apologize.

"It's just, what you did was extreme and then on top of that, involving Pope? He's got the most going for him out of all of us, he can't get caught up in something like this." JJ looks out to the open water before looking back at me.

"You know why I didn't tell you?" I look up at him and mumble a small no. "I didn't tell you, not because you'd be mad, but because I know you would try to help," he tells me as he looks down at me. "I couldn't bear the thought of you getting in trouble. Pope agreed to this, but we both agreed you couldn't know."

"JJ, I don't understand why though," I tell him and turn around to lean my back against the railing. "Why would it matter if I tried to help?"

JJ takes my hand and places his hand on the bruise that was left by Rafe earlier. "This," he looked down at my wrist, "this is why we didn't tell you. You didn't know shit and this happened. I love you, but you have a mouth on you," JJ chuckles at the last part, but I can't stop thinking about what he said. "Rafe is a douchebag of the finest order and if you knew more, this might've been worse." He holds my hand in his and is tracing the bruise on my wrist.

"JJ," I look up at him to find him staring into my eyes, "Did you just say you love me?" I could see the red tint on his face immediately. He quickly looked away. He let go of my hand and I felt all the cold I felt before return. "You've just never said that to me before."

I look down at my feet, trying to ignore the heartbreaking feeling. I went to walk away before I heard him say, "I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner." I look up and turn around to face him. He's still looking out at the open water. "I couldn't bear to see you hurt because I love you. Not like how I love the rest of the Pogues." He turns around to face me, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier about Topper's boat, but I knew if you knew, you'd be in more danger."

I went and grabbed JJ's hand, "I can take care of myself you know." I tell him which causes him to chuckle. "I know you can," he leans down and places a kiss on my lips. He places his hand on my back and pulls me closer, deepening the kiss.

Kie yells at us from the house that we were going to be late for the movies. We back away from each other, hoping she didn't see. "I could get used to that," JJ whispers in my ear before walking back to the house, leaving me speechless to what just happened. Maybe I needed to get mad at him earlier for this to happen. I chuckle at the thought before following after him. Once I see Kie isn't outside anymore, I place my hand in his and he places a small kiss to my temple.

We headed to the movies and, let's just say, all shit broke loose by the end of the night.

[lily-claw]

Tbh if my main ship would be izuocha, I'd be so disappointed.

I mean, Horikoshi didn't even drew Izuku catching Ochako when she was literally falling right into his arms. He could've said "It would be a bit of an unlucky situation if you fell, wouldn't it?" (I dont remember word to word in eng those words but you get it.) just like when Ochako talked to her for the first time he saw him and catching him before falling. One of them might have confess their feelings and then they would fall in love literally and that would be actually something meaningful.

I don't know how you guys feel but if izuocha is really going to be canon, I think it shouldve been like this, not with dabbing lmao.

We all know Horikoshi cares how he draws hands. Horikoshi thinks hands are one of the most characteristic things in the human body, thats why him choosing izuku and ochako dabbing makes everything funny to me. Everything about izuku in this chapter was so blank to me idk.

Also when Izuku was leaving katsuki, the way katsuki put one of his hand in his pocket and probably holding that All Might card firmly... I felt a lot of things while seeing him only in that panel.

Their dream was opening an agency together and being heroes together and compete with each other... How did it come to this? Izuku still could've join Bakugo's agency and do part time teacher job, why did he reject him and did that so coldly? What changed? Im sure even Shoto wanted to be in their agency, my baby boy will be frustrated when he hears all of this😭

I wanna talk too much but I don't know where to start...

Note: its just my thoughts, I tried to not add my thoughts about my ship and I respect what you think, if you wanna share your thoughts please do it but in a respectful way :3

Edit: pls look at the reblogged version of my comment about this too, someone pointed something about izuocha hand holding too :3

[calware]

also something i didn't mention because i forgor about it until just now (and i'm not going to edit it in because it's so minor) but i disagree with the whole "jake had a whole thing about not wanting to be sexualized, so don't ship him bc that's putting him into romantic/sexual situations" and i feel like those 2 things are not inherent to one another. 1) he's a fictional character he's not going to be sad that a tumblrina drew him in a bikini for their own personal amusement 2) i think there's a difference between a character being maliciously sexualized by other characters (or even the narrative itself) and a character being written as being part of a relationship 3) idk maybe some of us want to use shipping as a means to further explore those themes of sexualization that he faces. shipping doesn't just have to be "i want dirk and jake to date because they would have 0 problems 👍" i kind of like the problems. i'm thinking about the problems. and the sexualization could very well be one of those potential problems

[kyeomszone]

fast times ○ lee dokyeom

tags. engineer!reader. driver!dk. f1 au. angry!dk. rough sex. oral (m receiving).

synopsis. a bad call has Seokmin losing a race that was a guaranteed win and so, you make it up to him in the best way you can.

“Seok━”

He pushes past you, lips set into a hard line and broad shoulders tense under the suit. Despite the situation, despite the palpable anger, you can’t help but eye the way the suit hugs his body. Tight lines of muscles are visible under the dark material, made even more prominent by his tense body.

“Seokmin!” You call after him, taking off your headset and rushing towards where the driver had walked off to. You had never seen the man this━ this angry. One thing about Seokmin Lee that you had come to hold as a fact is that anger was not an emotion he knew. Despite the high-stakes situation, he is put in every race, despite the way reporters and paparazzi tried to get under his skin━ dissect each of the words he says to twist them into something it isn’t, you had never seen him lose his hold on anger.

And yet, when you enter his driver’s room, there is an expression on his face that just sits wrong.

His jaw is clenched, body heaving with rough breaths, the rich tan of his skin glistening with sweat and his lips twisted into a snarl. His eyes were clenched shut, snapping open at the sound of your steps and you felt your breath hitch at the way they were devoid of any warmth that you and the rest of the world were used to.

You take cautious steps towards him until you are in front of him, kneeling to meet his eyes. “Seokmin, I’m sorr━”

“And what would that do?” Seokmin interrupts, his voice tight and dripping with venom. A part of you flinches at the tone but the other? You can feel your body heat up, arousal pooling in your stomach at the sight of him like this.

“Nothing,” You answer truthfully, regret curled into each syllable of your words, “I know, it will not do anything but I really am sorry.”

Seokmin lets out a sharp bark of laughter, the usually bright sound twisted into something mocking, head falling back and hitting the wall. He drags his palm down his face before looking down at you, his words sharp as a knife. “Why are you here?”

You were worried.

You stare at him for a beat, biting your tongue. Instead, you set your hand down on his knees, looking up at him through your lashes, “Let me make it up to you?”

Seokmin looks down at you for a second, his hand coming to cradle your jaw as he parts his legs. “At least that’s one thing you’re good at,” he says, words harsh but it only sends a shiver down your spine.

You don’t reply, instead leaning forward to trace the shape of his length through the fireproofs with your lips. The faintest touch has Seokmin groaning, hands moving to curl into your hair, the adrenaline from the race and your touches having an immediate effect.

You mouth at him, kissing at the shape of him as you feel him filling up in his underwear until he tugs harshly at your roots, demanding more. You bite back a wince at the action, ignoring the heat pooling in your guts in favour of Seokmin. Your hands move to his waistband, pulling it down the fabric pooled at his feet, leaving him in just his boxers.

You take out his length, swallowing the saliva gathered in your mouth as you move to lick at the long and girthy cock. Despite how many times you’ve been in this each situation, you can’t help but feel a sliver of this overwhelming feeling each time you have to take his cock.

You focus on the pulsating red of his cockhead, licking at it and tasting the salt of his precum and sweat on your mouth, each little kitten lick had Seokmin giving you a stuttered groan in return, his grip on your hair tightening. 

Your mouth slowly travels down, tracing the veins and ridges and the skin of his cock, fingers thumbing at his slit, making him let out those pretty little noises that have your head spinning. 

“I thought you were here to make up,” Seokmin groans out, voice tight and tugging at your hair that has you biting back a moan. “Stop.”

You do as he said, stopping all movements as you watch him move one of his hands from your hair to his cock, aligning it with your mouth. “Now, you’re going to take this like a good little toy, okay?”

You nod and open your mouth. The moan that falls from your lips is muffled by his girth, a choked little noise falling from you as his cock hits the back of your throat. Seokmin lets out a low, drawn-out moan when he bottoms out, breaths falling in harsh pants as he tightens his grip on your hair, pushing your head closer and you can feel the trimmed pubic hair against your skin.

And a beat later, he starts moving, pulling out of you before pushing back in, positioning pistoning in and out with little care for you, as if you are nothing but a fleshlight for him to use. It has your core throbbing, slick gathering in your panties and tears streaking down your cheeks as he keeps fucking your mouth.

“Fuck,” Seokmin mumbles, his movement getting sloppier by the minute, voice sounding tighter and tighter the longer he goes. You can feel the way his thighs tense underneath your palms and you were sure that if you opened your eyes, you would see the way his stomach started to cave in━ all impending signs of his upcoming orgasm. “Should’ve realised you were a better fucktoy than a race engineer.”

His words have you moaning, the sound vibrating through him making him let out stuttered noises in return. Finally, after a few more thrusts, you feel Seokmin grip your hair the tightest he’s done so through the whole ordeal, pushing his cock further into your mouth━

A salty taste overtakes your senses, thick and warm and spilling in your mouth and you swallow as much as you can. He pulls away when you tap against his thigh, some of his cum spilling from your lips inturn.

You take in a much-needed breath, pulling yourself up from the floor and onto the sofa, watching as Seokmin walks away.

━━

“An order given by your race engineer had you losing the Brazillian GP and it has majorly impacted your chances for winning the WDC” the reporter starts, his tone regretful, “Will it affect how much you listen to them in the future?”

Seokmin pursed his lips for a second before answering, “It is extremely important to trust your race engineer━ not just trust, but trust blindly to what they say. So no, we have all made mistakes sometimes and they have consequences that we have to live by. But, I trust and will follow through with anything my engineer has to say, now and in the future.”

note. my way of coping after the shit race. do NOT be a mercedes stan, it's nothing but pain. also, pep the edit, made it myself 😁

[theoddest1]

Leave Joel Perez alone. All of you online warriors think you’re doing something but you’re not. Focus on the REAL life victims and not some cartoon. Put your energy into something MEANINGFUL and stop sending death threats to some voice actor DOING HIS JOB.

Damn, anyway, you are aware that we can do both things, right? Why are you acting as if doing one task absolves the other? I am not on his case for playing a fictional character or sharing art of said fictional character, I'm on his case for knowingly or unknowingly promoting a tag that has many rape fetishers/SA romanticizers using it. He did NOT need to use a ship name in the post since any fan of the show ALREADY KNOWS Angel's situation. So why tf does he need the ship name there? Most people do not use a fucking ship name for anything other than romance or cause they like the ship.

Then Joel proceeds to double down and act like an idiot online and be fucking petty towards someone who made good points to him, who also was APPARENTLY an SA survivor, telling them that they're putting words in his mouth and to "go watch bluey" which was not necessary of a comment to make.

And AFTER THAT he proceeds to mock those who find his behavior unprofessional and tone deaf all cause he thinks he is completely right in his assessments yet doesn't have the fucking balls to leave his Insta comments open.

He, Viv, and any other person who doesn't take this topic seriously is not immune to proper feedback and conversations made about them and especially not clapback if they proceed to act like brainless drones. 🙂‍↕️

[aza-writes]

Right Where You Left Me

Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested: no

Summary: Bucky found his fiance from the 1940s, but she isn't his fiance anymore. 

Warnings: ANGST, use of y/n (ONLY TWICE AND IN PASSING), talks of dementia and religion. 

Inspiration: Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift 

A/N: Combining my two favorite things, Bucky Barnes and Taylor Swift. Religion is vague in this btw

Bucky's POV:

She looks so beautiful. So, so beautiful. I imagined her like this so often. 

But I imagined the situation differently. I imagined myself either six feet under or in a bed right next to hers. Our hands touching, or if we could, hop into each other’s beds for the night. 

But that’s all just a fantasy. 

Right now, she’s there, across the hallway. I can barely see into her room, curtains blocking me from her face. All I can see is her hands, her quilted blanket, and her grandson. 

Her grandson.

Her’s

That’s not even the worst part; he’s technically older than me. Or, he looks older than me, aged more than I have. He even has kids of his own, a boy and a girl. 

She has a great-grandson and a great-granddaughter. 

I want to walk in and see her face, speak to her, but I’m terrified. There are two possible outcomes if I walk in there, and both are paired with an unimaginable heartbreak that hurts to just think about. She could either recognize me or not. If she sees my face and knows who I am, she might hate me. And if she doesn’t, it’ll break me. 

If she recognizes me, I don’t know if she’ll see the good times or the bad. The last time I saw her broke both of us, her more than me. That’s what scares me the most. 

• • • • • •

“Tomorrow?” Her voice cracks. Slow tears fall down her cheeks as she quickly wipes them off. 

It feels like the whole diner is looking at us, but the truth is no one cares. Everyone is so wrapped up in their own shit they don’t care about the couple in the back corner being torn apart by the war; they’re probably worried they’ll have to do the same soon. We’re the future to them. 

I nod and rub my thumb on the back of her free hand. It’s taking every ounce of strength I have to not start tearing up with her. I need to be strong for her. I need to be hopeful for both of us. “I’m so sorry, doll. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.” 

Drafted. Enlisting is one thing, but being drafted is something different. Steve begged me to join him, but I said no. Claiming I would after y/n and I got married at city hall. Even if we were able to follow through with those plans, I wouldn’t be able to leave her. She would’ve kept me here just by waking up next to me. But none of that mattered now. Our future plans would have to be put on hold for a while. 

Her tears pick up the pace, causing a bit of mascara to chase after the tear. She wipes it off then looks at her finger, the black clumping next to her nail. 

“Please don’t cry, darling.” My voice starts to shake, but I push it back. “I’ll be back. I promise I’ll be back.” 

She shakes her and pulls her hands away. “No, no don’t do that.” She wipes her tears again; this time, there weren’t any that followed. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She looks me in the eyes and brings her hands back to mine. “I have two friends already who are widows, and both of their husbands made promises. Promises are bad luck.” 

I nod at her now. I know exactly what she’s talking about. There’s been a lot of letters recently, not from the soldiers but from the government, all starting with, “We regret to inform you” and ending with “Our deepest condolences.” 

“When tomorrow do you leave?” Her voice was quiet but less sad. It was more of a matter-of-fact tone. 

“Early morning.” Early, very early. It's too early to get to the courthouse tomorrow before I have to leave. Too early to get a marriage license. Too early in every aspect of the word. It’s too early to leave her. Too early for anything. 

“Does Steve know?” 

I shake my head again. “No, I’m telling him after this, though.” 

“Are we still going to the Stark Expo tonight?” A small smile creeps up on her face. She’s trying to lighten the mood, and it’s working. I can’t feel anything but pure joy looking at her face. 

“Of course, doll.” 

• • • • • •

The other option is that she doesn’t remember me at all. How would I approach her then? I haven’t gotten the courage to go into her room yet, but her family has to reintroduce themselves every time they go to visit. Their voices stay sad, and every conversation they have is the same. Pleasantries and them updating her on their lives. She doesn’t say much besides a few “oh” and “Is that right?” She never uses their names or asks more questions. I don’t think she would be able to. 

The word “dementia” is thrown around a lot by her nurses. Recently “Lewy body” has been added to it. They also say Alzheimer’s a lot when looking at her charts. That cluster of words is enough to fill me with dread. I want to take all of this away from her. I want her mind to be perfectly sound, I want to be in a hospital bed with her, and I want to be the man who has to keep reintroducing himself as her husband. But I can’t. All I can do is listen to the nurses from a distance. My time for seeing her is running out, it won’t be long before I’ve missed my opportunity. She won’t be around for much longer. 

Her grandson leaves the room while holding his son’s hand, the baby back in the car seat on his arm. Tears are in his eyes, but he’s trying to hide them in front of his kids, not wanting to upset them. 

Through the window, I can still see her hands. She fiddles with the quilt a bit, but they don’t move much. They don’t look like the hands I held years and years ago, but mine don’t look the same either. Scars outline mine just like age does to her’s. 

Is it crazy to think someone’s hands look beautiful? 

A small chime goes off the speakers, indicating that there are ten minutes left in visiting hours. The halls will be cleared soon, medicine will be passed out, and lights will be turned off. 

Ever since I’ve come to visit her in the hospice facility, “soon” has been another word that is thrown around when they mention her. 

She’ll be out of pain soon.

She’ll be reunited with her loved ones soon. 

She’ll be leaving us soon. 

I don’t have any more time to just sit here; “soon” will run out eventually. 

The hallways are almost clear, and the nurses move to their stations and the medicine cabinet to prepare for bedtime. 

This is my chance. My brain doesn’t comprehend what my body is doing when I stalk down the hallway and into the doorway. It wasn’t more than a second before our eyes lock.

Her eyes. Her eyes are still so perfect. They haven’t changed at all. Still soft, bright, and expressive. They have always been so beautiful, so why, at this very moment I’m speechless? I’m sure I’ve seen them over a million times in my life, but they are even better than I remember. Her eyes bring back more memories, ones I was sure were lost forever when Hydra took them. I remember remembering them during my time as the Winter Soldier. They brought me peace then. They’re bringing me peace now, too. They even give me courage. At least enough to look at the rest of her face. 

Her face. The face I was so scared I wasn’t going to recognize was in front of me. Why was I so scared? I couldn’t forget it even if I tried. It’s been decades. Smile, frown, and laugh lines sculpted in, but I feel like they were always supposed to be there. They were mapped out years ago but finally took their rightful place. 

She looks so beautiful. So perfect. 

Her eyes change when she sees me, but there isn’t confusion behind her eyes. There’s relief. 

“We’ll look who it is.” She smiles softly. “I thought you were going to be at work all day.” She removes her blanket and swivels her torso, trying to get out of the bed. She hasn’t been able to move like this in a long time; why is it happening now? 

“You know who I am?” My voice is so quiet, so stuck in the back of my throat that I’m scared I might lose it. 

“James, I know who you are. Not quit messing around and come here.” She giggles and tries to swing her legs to the side of the bed. Her wrist shakingly grabs the railing next to her, the deteriorated muscles using everything they can to pull her out of that bed. Her arms outstretched gently, hands reaching towards me. “Could you help me, Buck?”

I feel like I’m outside my body. Is this even real life? She knows me. Not recognize, knows. I place my hands in hers, too wrapped up in the moment to worry about my arm. Would she notice? Do I care if she notices? No, not really. 

She rubs her thumbs over my hands, something she does to provide comfort. Comfort for what? Does she know what day it is?

“Can you help me out of this bed, Buck? I’m tired of sitting here.” She moves uncomfortably and sighs when she realizes she can’t get up by herself. 

I pull away only for a moment to pull up a chair next to her bed. “I’m sorry, doll, but you need to stay here a bit longer.” I keep my voice quiet, wanting to keep her here at this moment. 

She just nods, her mind too tired to fight with the logic.

“I don’t have to go anymore.” Her eyes go wide; tears fill them and threaten to spill out. “The war is done, and I get to stay here with you.” Her hands go to cover her mouth, a few rouge tears fall from her eyes. 

“Really? Please tell me you’re telling the truth, James. This has to be true.” She moves her hand back down to grasp mine, revealing her hopeful smile. 

“It’s all true. I’m not going anywhere.”  I bring her hand to my lips and softly kiss it. A small, relieved laugh leaves her, and a few more tears come out. 

“C-can we still go to city hall? I want to marry you, Bucky. I don’t want a wedding I want to be married tomorrow.” 

“Of course, darling, of course.” 

• • • • • •

Two days later, I didn’t even have to read the paper. I was met with her eyes one final time…

Sadly, right above it was the title of the column: Obituaries

A/n: Request are open! Look at guidelines and taglist info😚

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

reblogging to keep my edits properly visible but

no, you are not mistaken, those last few selections are even MORE harlequin romance within the full context of the scene.

a scene in which Jim, nude, begs for Spock to mind meld him surrounded by flowers and lit candles (hey dont look at me, the 70s-era-appropriately-queer-coded villain that brought this whole situation to bear selected the place settings. there's replicator cloning and that one romulan commander spock was seducing in TOS involved, it's a mess) in order to ascertain that he is in fact, the 'real' jim. A meld in which a certain first officer is called 'my vulcan' and in which an unreplicable mark is put on jim's soul (to avoid more transporter clone nonsense) in the most BJ-coded scene I've read in my entire fucking life.

all this takes place within like. 3 pages

I feel like I've lived my life on a steady diet of wine cooler fanfic and this shit feels like an author reaching across nearly fifty years to pour undiluted moonshine straight into my mouth kegstand style

(also i went looking down the TPOTP tags and theres a lot of discussion but i havent seen a single fanart. which. bonkers to me)

jesus christ

okay so i've finally dug my way into the price of the phoenix on the reading list and

WOW

wow

they uh. they weren't kidding about the nature of THIS novel huh

i may update this post with the selections that caused the worst internal screaming, if any of yall would be inclined?

[scribescrawls]

"How much longer must we suffer now? (Reconsider) How much longer must we push through doubt? (We can get home) How much longer must we go about (Eurylochus) Our lives like this when people die like this?"

(The quotes in the sketch and above are from the song "Mutiny" from EPIC: The Musical by Jorge Rivera-Herrans)

I heard Starscream had another friend in a different continuity, what if TFOne Starscream also had his own Genvo too, but he died during those 50 cycles when they were being hunted down. I like to headcanon TFOne Starscream used to be a scientist before but decided to join the High Guard when the war with the Quintessons got more serious. Imagine Starscream decided to join the High Guard first and his friend decided to follow him when he heard Star was enlisting, but only one of them makes it back alive.

I think about how hopeless and desperate the High Guard's situation was throughout the 50 cycles with no end in sight as energon stopped flowing probably going hungry, they were being hunted down by Quintessons/Sentinel, their strongest leaders/comrades in arms were killed in front of them, betrayed, and trying to survive on the surface's dangerous landscape. I think as time passed many gave up hope or resigned themselves that they would never see home again giving into despair after cycles of suffering. Starscream probably feels the same way and feels pretty hopeless about their situation too. But as the leader Starscream probably knows he does not get the luxury of expressing those doubts without sending everyone else spiraling so even if he feels hopelessness about their situation he has to pretend he is okay and put on a front that he knows what he is doing and that they will succeed in taking down Sentinel one day to get them to survive another day.

There's a line in one of my favorite book series (Animorphs) where one of the characters reflects that "A leader has to give people hope. Even when he doesn't have much himself" and I think Starscream knew this. But it is a very lonely way of living being leader in such a hopeless situation as others can at least potentially express doubts about things or commiserate with each other, but as leader you cannot do that without affecting those under your command. I think some part of him subconsciously adopts the mindset that to an extent, on an emotional level, to be a leader is to be alone. And every decision you make holds the burden of potentially getting your troops/friends killed, but someone has to make the hard decisions even if some decisions are ruthless as you weigh the lives of those you may consider friends to keep as many people alive.

I was inspired to sketch this when I was listening to the song lol, I linked it down below in case anyone wants to hear it :D