#dave totally knew what he was doing with that dude

[latenightreadingpdf]

Hidden in Plain Sight - Dave Lizewski

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ Part 2 ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ Part 3 ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: When Y/S/N saves Kick-Ass from a dangerous situation, he becomes obsessed with trying to uncover her true identity. Little does he know, Y/S/N is a girl from his school who secretly has a crush on him as well. As they patrol together, their worlds collide in ways neither expected, leading to a surprising revelation about who's really behind the mask.

Y/S/N - Your superhero name

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The night sky over New York had a strange way of making a person feel invincible. Dave Lizewski, aka Kick-Ass, was just starting out his amateur superhero career and was already way in over his head. Sure, he'd gotten a few decent hits in on some petty thugs before, but most of the time, he spent more energy trying not to die than actually fighting crime.

Tonight was one of those nights.

He sprinted down an alley, panting, adrenaline surging through his veins. Behind him, two guys—huge, brawny types who clearly had nothing better to do than terrorize the innocent—chased him with knives. His green suit felt like a second skin, clinging to him with every move, though it wasn’t exactly made for high-intensity situations like this. His lungs burned, and a stitch formed in his side. Not good.

“I swear,” he gasped to himself, “I’m gonna die.”

The alley came to an abrupt dead end. He cursed, turning just in time to see the guys closing in, grinning like they'd won the lottery. He raised his fists, trying to look braver than he felt.

"This... is not going to end well," Dave muttered.

Before either of them could lunge, something fast and powerful blurred from the shadows, hitting one of the thugs with such force that he flew backward, crashing into a stack of crates. The second guy barely had time to react before the figure was on him too, taking him down with an expert kick to the stomach.

Dave blinked in disbelief. The figure straightened, revealing a young woman in a sleek, black suit. It wasn’t flashy, but it looked way more professional than his own green and yellow DIY get-up. She had an aura of confidence and strength that radiated even in the dim light.

And, yeah, Dave noticed, she had a killer figure.

"You... you just saved my life!" Dave stammered.

The girl rolled her eyes behind her mask. “Yeah, and I’m guessing it won’t be the last time, Kick-Ass.”

Kick-Ass. She knew his name.

“Wait, who are you?” he asked, his voice still shaky from the adrenaline.

“Call me Y/S/N,” she said casually, as if saving people from imminent death was just another Friday night. “You really should be more prepared for situations like this.”

“I... I thought I was.”

Y/S/N snorted, crossing her arms. "Really? No backup, no weapons? Just... that?" She gestured to his suit. "You're gonna get yourself killed."

Dave flushed, partly from embarrassment and partly from the rush of adrenaline still coursing through him. “I’ll... I’ll do better,” he promised lamely, watching as she walked away, her silhouette disappearing into the night.

And just like that, she was gone.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

At Atomic Comics the next day, Dave was still riding the adrenaline high from his encounter with the mysterious heroine. His friends, Todd and Marty, sat across from him, distracted by the latest issue of X-Men, while Dave rambled on about her.

“I swear, you guys, she was like something out of The Avengers. She totally saved my ass last night. And she was hot. I mean, like, really hot. Her suit—it was super tight. I could barely focus.”

Todd raised an eyebrow, putting his comic down. “Dude, you’re such a nerd. A hot superhero saves you, and that’s what you focus on?”

Dave shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “I mean, yeah? You didn’t see her. She’s got this whole thing going on—great moves, great...uh...form. Her ass is—”

"Wow. Really going full perv, aren't we?" Marty quipped, rolling his eyes.

Unbeknownst to Dave, someone had been listening. On the other side of a nearby shelf, Y/N, the kind and somewhat popular girl from school, had been browsing comics too. She knew who Dave was—after all, they had a few classes together—but they had never really talked.

Y/N smiled to herself as she overheard Dave’s rant about his superhero crush. Little did he know that she was Y/S/N, the very girl who had saved his life last night. Hearing him talk about her alter-ego like that—saying she was cool, hot, and all that—was...well, flattering in a weird way. And the fact that he was so obviously into her made things a lot more interesting.

Still smiling, Y/N grabbed a random comic, paid for it, and headed out, a plan forming in her head.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Later that week, Dave suited up as Kick-Ass once again, hoping to catch a glimpse of Y/S/N during his patrol. After their first encounter, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She had this presence that he couldn’t shake off, and it didn’t help that his crush was amplified by the fact that she’d saved him. She was the real deal—a hero, like he wanted to be.

“Kick-Ass.”

Dave turned at the sound of her voice, heart skipping a beat. She was there, perched casually on a rooftop ledge, looking down at him with that same cool confidence.

“Y/S/N!” He tried to sound smooth, but his voice cracked just a little.

“You’re not going to need saving again, are you?” she teased, dropping down to the street in front of him.

“I’ve got it covered this time,” he said, puffing out his chest just a little. “Totally prepared.”

Y/S/N gave him a once-over, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Sure you are.”

The two of them walked together, patrolling the empty streets, though it was a quiet night—too quiet, really.

“So, Kick-Ass,” Y/S/N started, her voice casual. “There’s this guy I go to school with. He’s in a few of my classes.”

Dave’s heart gave a little lurch. Was she... opening up to him? Maybe this was his chance to learn more about her.

“Yeah? What about him?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

“He’s super nerdy, kind of awkward. But he’s... well, he’s hot. Like, really hot.”

Dave blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I bet he’s got... you know, a lot going on,” she continued, her voice dropping slightly. “In more ways than one.”

Dave felt his face flush. “Oh.”

“I can’t focus in class because I’m too busy thinking about him,” she added. “It’s a problem, I don’t know what to do.”

“Wow, okay. Um... who’s the guy?” he asked, not really wanting to know but needing to at the same time.

“Dave Lizewski,” Y/S/N said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dave stopped dead in his tracks. His brain short-circuited for a second. “Wait... what? Did you just... did you just say Dave Lizewski?”

She turned to face him, her expression unreadable behind her mask. “Yeah, why? You know him?”

“I—uh—” Dave’s thoughts tumbled over each other in a chaotic mess. She knows me. She actually knows me. And she thinks I’m hot?!

Y/S/N didn’t give him any time to process. “Anyway, I gotta run. Crime won’t stop itself.” She gave him a little wave before disappearing into the night once more, leaving Dave standing there, still in shock.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

That night, Dave immediately FaceTimed Todd and Marty, pacing his room in a frenzy.

“Guys! You are not going to believe what just happened!” he blurted out as soon as they answered.

“What is it now, man?” Marty asked, exasperated.

“I think Y/S/N goes to our school.”

Both of them stared at him blankly through the screen.

“No, seriously! She was talking about a guy she likes in her classes. And then she said my name! My actual name!”

Todd snorted. “Okay, but how do you know she’s not just messing with you?”

“I... don’t know. But it seemed real,” Dave insisted. “I think she really goes to school with me. And now I have to figure out who she is.”

He grabbed his old yearbook off the shelf and flipped it open. “There’s gotta be some kind of clue.”

Todd and Marty exchanged skeptical glances but eventually joined in, helping him comb through the yearbook. They scanned faces, trying to match anyone they knew with the mystery of Y/S/N.

“Alright, so we need a plan,” Dave said, leaning over the pages. “Monday, we’re going to do some recon. Check out anyone who might be her. We’ll figure this out.”

Todd and Marty, albeit reluctantly, nodded in agreement.

“Sure, dude. Recon mission on Monday.”

Dave closed the yearbook with a snap, his mind racing. Somewhere in the sea of students, Y/S/N was hiding in plain sight. And now, he was more determined than ever to find out who she was—both in and out of her suit.

Little did he know, Monday would bring him more answers than he could’ve ever expected.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ there’s not enough Kick-Ass fanfics on here and I’m sick of it :( lmk if you want a part 2

[madockisser]

cardan/nicasia: why they’ll never happen again analysis/speculation

a while back i saw someone (or rather, a thread of ppl saying that they hope cardan and nicasia don’t get it on in the next book which is supposed to be nicasias book (supposedly) and i even saw someone say they WISH THEY DO ?!

so here’s your fun reminder of what nicasia put cardan through!

I’ve gathered together all the shit nicasia did to cardan: being the first girl he loved then breaking his heart w his friend, allowing cardan to catch them ON HIS BEDROOM FLOOR. (not entirely her fault but she totally had shits and giggles abt it when cardan confronted her) then when Locke screwed her over, she got CARDAN and his power as prince, to harass the girl(s) locke chose over her, one of which cardan liked, then later on was trying to manipulate him to marry her (which i think is when cardan realized they weren’t rly even friends anymore), THEN kidnapping and torturing the girl she knew cardan loved, AND befriending his abusive neglectful mother!

like damn. how u even fumble that bad, not just romantically but as a friend.

also I’d like to add her consistent entitlement, not just the whole “i bully girls bc I’m a princess and i can!” but the “cardan take me back even after i emotionally ruined you multiple times!” 😐

poor cardan

anyway, I’ve read lots of holly black books, and she is VERY mindful w abusive sort of relationships. and cheating relationships. she writes about them a LOT and each time they are pretty irredeemable.

note(the only exceptions):Taryn and hazel (darkest part of the forest) who sorta cheated on accident/ it wasn’t their fault-> but didn’t end well

add on note sorry: “but nicasia cheated on cardan on accident bc Locke was a gancanagh!” false! nicasia admitted that what her and Locke were doing was prolonged, the scene that cardan finds them is not their first time screwing around. nicasia KNOWINGLY cheated on cardan. then she was like “ok but i still care abt u! take me back” ?

now you can say that it could sorta be classified as an accident due to lockes natures (which are actually really disturbing if u think abt it) and that’s true, i never blamed nicasia for that relationship, but i do blame her for all the utter dogshit she not only put cardan thru, but Jude.

and this is cardan we are talking about. he who killed half an army for Jude when madoc tried taking his daughter back (sounds funny out of context).

we must remember that cardan does not want Jude hurt and humiliated and that’s exactly what nicasia went and did to Jude. through all the books bro. nicasia literally kidnapped and tortured Jude in the undersea so there’s 0 chance of cardan touching nicasia unless maybe to turn her into a tree again (but he can always just do that at a distance 😛)

anyway back to the cheating:

which is why i know that holly would never pull any sort of bull w cardan and nicasia, and you may be thinking (well that’s bullshit what do u know?) 3 separate books w cheating tropes, and 5+ diff relationships that involve cheating w no redemption. LOL

anyway black and i certainly agree on that front, and the way she uses the trope so consistently, and makes it so the cheaters are never endgame, or have a horrible death (Locke AND his mom, also Eva Duarte 😭the dude Ben dated from dpotf, and Kaye and that guy Janet was dating, Val and Tom and dave and lolli (modern faerie tales)) is pretty telling!

holly is great at writing healthy relationships, and she knows that tcp is her biggest hit w the media, so she won’t go and fuck that, not just bc she would never and it’s out of her writing style and character and literally moral compass when it comes to writing relationships, but also bc her publishers/editors would NEVER let that slide.

but i can’t wait for her book! i love knowing that nicasia will never have a chance w cardan again, it’s no less than what she deserves 😋

anyway sorry for ranting! I just feel so strongly abt this topic, cardan would never cheat on Jude, since he’s been cheated on before, and it was heart wrenching, and bc of his upbringing, he would never. if you haven’t, go thru my masterlist in my pinned and find the cardan /nicasia thing where i explain why he wouldn’t cheat far better there!

But feel free to add on, i probably missed a few things so lmk!! 🫶

[nonotnolan]

Rookie Mistake

“Yeah, I realized the other day that, like... I’ve spent the last five Sunday afternoons, like, completely blacked out,” he said, rubbing his hands as he spoke.  Dave, our next door neighbor, was telling my mother why he didn’t host his normal Saturday night party yesterday.  I had to admit I was not expecting that answer.  “I didn’t even think I had been drinking that much, but like... why else would that happen, y’know?"

Well, I knew exactly why he had been blacked out the past five Sundays-- I’d been using the spellbook I found in the attic to slip into his smoking hot body.  Look at his chest, can you blame me?  Dude has shoulders for days.  I’d hop into his body when my mom and her husband went out on their date night, and then I would download Grindr to score a few casual hookups with some eager twinks.  Being home from college over the summer sucked, and Dave’s body helped make it suck less.  It was a victimless crime-- or so I had thought.  

Honestly, I hadn’t even thought about what Dave would remember whenever I hopped into his body.  Total rookie mistake, but it could have been a lot worse.  As long as I stayed out of his body, his blackouts would stop, and no one would be any the wiser.  Dave excused himself and went back inside his house, while Mom and I finished up bringing the groceries inside.  Hopefully I didn’t look too guilty.

I took the spellbook down off my shelf, and pulled up Google translate again-- the damn thing was written in Latin.  The good news is that all of the spells were illustrated, so it was usually pretty clear what each spell would do.  The bad news is that a lot of the rules were written in small, cursive handwriting that the computer couldn’t read when photographed.  I was making decent headway translating word by word, but it was... tedious, to say the least.  Can you blame me for getting impatient?

The astral form spell I’d been using to possess Dave hadn’t said anything about memory loss, but I had also stopped translating after three paragraphs.  I’d already learned the important pieces, or so I had thought.  You can’t travel more than a quarter mile away from your body without risking permanent separation, your astral form could be blocked by wards or captured by soul snares, whatever the hell those were... and then the spell started talking about how it was really good for spying on your enemies.  Wouldn’t something like target memory loss be important enough to mention earlier?  I was livid, but it was ultimately my mistake for using a spell that I hadn’t fully translated.

I’d only made it through another half-paragraph before I got interrupted by a knock on my door.  “Sweetie, I just wanted to let you know that it’s just me going out tonight,” Mom said.  “Henry isn’t feeling well, so he’s going to stay behind and rest up, okay?  I know I don’t have to worry about you staying quiet for him while he sleeps.  See you tonight!”

I could scarcely maintain my excitement as I waited for the sound of my mother locking the front door.  Henry, my step-father, was a delicious otter of a man.  I hadn’t even considered the thought of taking over his body, but how could I resist an opportunity handed to me on such a silver platter?  And if he was planning on sleeping anyway, the memory loss issue didn’t matter!  Translating the rest of the spell could wait, I needed to seize this opportunity before it slipped away.  I made sure to clear off my bed, and position myself in a neutral posture before casting the spell-- the first time I used the spell and returned to my body, the crick in my neck took three days to fully heal.  Once my astral form had separated itself from my body, I flew as fast as I could to Henry’s sleeping form.

After all... just look at this man.  Henry is... he’s like gay candy.  Any time the three of us go out together, I don’t think he realizes how many skinny dudes can’t look away from him.  And for the next few hours, that would be me.  God, it was such a rush to think about that.  Can you blame me for getting excited?  Aside from the occasional dress pant, Henry never really wore anything that would display his bulge, so I wasn’t sure what sort of equipment I would be working with, but... now that it was in my hands, I was not disappointed.  So that was a ten minute detour.  I’m only human, after all.

My next order of business was to take some raunchy selfies and send them to my phone for some, uhh... future me time.  The problem was that the only rooms in the house with good lighting were also the rooms where Mom had already redecorated Henry’s house with floral wallpaper.  Seeing that in the background was just a total boner kill.  I’d have to use my room for photos.  I try to avoid seeing my lifeless body whenever I can-- it’s kind of unsettling-- but in this case, it was worth the discomfort.

I figured Henry’s strength would be more than enough to carry my body down to the living room couch, only... when I opened my door, the bed was empty.  The pit of my stomach sank to the floor as I stared at the impression in my bed sheets, the only remaining sign that my body had previously been resting there.  I started taking deep breaths, running my hands across my new chest fur as I tried to calm down.  If the astral form spell was going to cause my body to disappear, it would have happened before today.  The first step was probably to search the rest of the house, just in case anything else had been displaced.

I found my body outside, shirtless, smoking a cigarette on the patio.  He had to have heard me-- I certainly wasn’t quiet as I flung upon the back door-- but he didn’t even bother to look up at me.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my body?” I said, trying to puff out Henry’s chest for maximum intimidation.

My body responded by blowing a cloud of smoke into my face.  “Get over yourself,” he said, taking another long drag.  “You grabbed my spellbook out of my attic, turned the next door neighbor into a meat suit, and now you have the gall to pretend that you’re the victim here?”

I tried to think of some sort of witty comeback, but my brain had completely frozen up.  “I... Henry?  Is that you in there?  What are you doing?”

“Watching you fall for the world’s most obvious trap,” he said, lording over me with a smug grin on his face.  He had me dead to rights, and we both knew it.  “Your mother hadn’t even finished pulling out of the driveway, and your horny ass was already trying to take over my body.  Good thing I had already started my own astral form before she left.  Mind you, I have ways of keeping unwanted spirits out of my body... but then we wouldn’t be having this delightful conversation, would we?

“Consider yourself busted,” he said, snuffing out the cigarette on the patio table.  “You’re going to spend the night here, pretending to be me while keeping to yourself under the guise of feeling sick.  I’m going to take your body out for a joyride tonight, same as you did to Dave.  We’ll switch back in the morning.  No funny business, or you’ll learn first hand why I no longer need to use a spellbook to cast magic.”

“Y-yes, sir,” I said, nodding my head.  Seeing Henry inside of my lanky body with his arms crossed, it looked catty rather than intimidating.  All the same, I was not about to try and mess with him any further.  Better to take the L here.  “Hey, uhh... after tonight’s punishment... do you... do you think you could teach me how to use that spellbook?”

Henry paused, sizing me up and down with his eyes before speaking.  “Me, teaching you?  After a rookie mistake like this?  Not on your life.”

[drpeppertummy]

ok this one sucks but it was for a prompt Ok

[mutual stuffing, tummyache]

"Hey Gray," said Dave, his words muffled by a mouthful of pizza. "You ever eat a whole pizza? You look like the kind of guy who could eat a whole pizza. I mean, I don't mean, like, uh--I mean, because you're, like, a big dude. I mean--not like that, I mean--I mean you're, y'know, robust. Like, in a general way. You know what I mean?"

Gray listened, stone-faced, as Dave struggled to piece together his thoughts, all with his mouth full. Finally, he nodded.

"Once," he said. "On a dare." Dave pumped a fist in the air.

"I knew it," he grinned. "On a dare? You don't seem like a dare kind of guy."

"It was a long time ago," said Gray, picking up another slice of pizza. "I don't know if I could do it again."

"Sure you could," said Dave. "I can do it, if I can do it, you totally can."

"You can?" Gray raised an eyebrow, glancing down at Dave's scrawny physique.

"Course I can." Dave stuffed another big bite into his mouth. "Easy."

"I can't say you give me the same impression that I give you," said Gray.

"I have a fast metabolism," he said, finishing off his piece. Dave hadn't been counting, but Gray thought it might've been his third.

"I suppose so." Gray took a bite of his pizza. He was on his second.

The two were supposed to have been joined by the rest of their friends that night, but the other four had all been called away by more important obligations, leaving Gray and Dave with the three pizzas they'd ordered for the get-together. They sat together on Dave's old worn-out couch with an open box between them and the other two on the table. It wasn't long before the first box was empty, and Dave opened up a second one.

"It's not gonna be as good tomorrow," he said, picking up his sixth piece. He leaned back into the couch. His belly bulged under the fabric of his loose t-shirt, but he didn't seem to care. Gray considered his logic for a moment, then joined him. He was on his fourth piece now, and the feeling of fullness was beginning to creep up on him, but he wasn't really concerned. He was happy to be spending time with his friend, even if the others couldn't make it. He'd asked Dave about one of his favorite movies earlier that day--something to do with vicious alien clowns--and Dave was glad to show him. Slowly, the light of day faded, leaving the room dark save for the flickering light of the TV, and they happily sat together enjoying the hot pizza as much as the movie.

With the distraction of the movie, the pizza went quickly, and before long, their hands met blindly in the empty box. They looked down, surprised. Gray brought a hand to his belly. He'd lost track of how much either of them had eaten, but his belly felt very round under his hand, and he was suddenly aware of a tremendous weight in his stomach.

"Jeez," said Dave. His voice was quiet. "How the hell did that happen?" Gray shrugged. He looked at Dave, whose stomach looked very uncomfortably distended. Gray had always known Dave to have a disproportionately big appetite, but he'd almost certainly eaten more than Gray did, and the thought of more than an entire pizza stuffed into that skinny belly made Gray's own stomach ache even more.

"I guess you weren't lying," Gray said, closing the empty box and moving it to the table. Even the act of leaning forward was uncomfortable.

"Huh?"

"About eating an entire pizza. I didn't think you could."

"Oh. Yeah. Well, I guess we both did," said Dave with a chuckle. He leaned back and rested a hand on his belly.

"How do you feel?"

"Pretty bad. You?"

"Pretty bad," Gray agreed, nodding. He let his head fall back against the couch cushion. With a soft grunt, Dave shifted himself over beside Gray, half-laying against his shoulder, and placed a hand on Gray's soft belly. The touch was comforting. Gray, already growing drowsy, wrapped an arm around Dave and gave his bloated stomach a gentle rub in return. His belly was astonishingly tight, and Gray wondered as he began to drift off how Dave wasn't in more pain. Maybe he was, and he was just good at hiding it. Either way, the two of them slowly fell asleep, their overstuffed bellies gurgling softly as they tried to digest.

[1mmortal-x]

just smth that's been on my mind

It's the early 70s, you're the new kid in high school and you've figured out all the cliques in said school already. Just keeping to yourself and not really participating much. You knew who David was. He was the kid that sat in the back of the class, talking in class with his buddies, always cracking a joke, being disrespectful and disruptive to the teachers. It was clear he didn't care for authority. Often admiring him from a far, seeing his little schemes. He did get in trouble a fair bit but he had gotten away with many other things, he was good. One day in PE class you line up always, with David messing around his friends, not even 5 minutes into the class and the teacher has to keep a quick eye on him. As your teacher calls out from his list of randomly selected pairs of 2 from his clipboard, he yells that you and David would be together. David's reaction being to fall back onto one of his friends, saying with an annoyed and slightly funny tone.

"Ugh!..- I can't go with that chick, she's a total space cadet.." His tone in a half sigh as he pushes himself off the friend. The teacher snapping at him to quiet down, before going back to explaining your activities for the day. Stating that you'll be moving into fitness section and will be focusing on doing small work outs.

The teacher tells you to go with your partners and start doing the warms ups written on the chalkboard. You start with sits ups.(one person getting into position and the other holding down the others feet to help them.)

Dave with a sigh, decides to join you. His facial expression stuck in that classic slightly sour face, Dave seemed to be annoyed as always. He sighed roughly asked.

"You wanna go first?.." He arched an eyebrow, starring daggers into you. You shrugged and then nodded, getting into position with Dave following your actions. He held your shoes down to the ground with a gentle but firm grip, looking away and looking more annoyed. You didn't look at him much, not wanting to make things more awkward then they've already become. Seeing how much he towered over you, the more sit ups you did, the more you realized how close your face gets to him. Holding your breathe slightly so he doesn't feel it, something that his very difficult to do when your goal is 20 sit ups. Nearing the end of your set, you feel your body getting tired and you start to huff. David hears your noises as you push, and he narrows his brows. This catches your eye and you look at him, his head turned and attention seemingly elsewhere, you continue. Letting out more small huffs, feeling a little embarrassed because of them. You get signal to him you're done and are ready to switch so he gets up, along with you. You make eye contact and you notice a slight pink tint on his cheeks likes he's hut, but that doesn't make sense. He didn't work out so is he blushing? You shrug the thought off and switch. Holding his shoes down, sort of trying to mirror his gentle but firm grip as before. Looking at him and realizing why he had his head turned slightly, after all it was a rather close angle. You could feel slightly heat on your cheeks as you looked away. He clearly worked out a lot, flying though the sit ups. As you waited for it to end, you start to hear Dave huff, the slightly heat returning to your cheeks.

You move on in the course, now doing push ups. You get on the ground and begin. Dave rolls his eyes and comments.

"Your form is terrible.."

He sees you don't do anything to fix it and sighs again, growing more annoyed as he neils down.

"Could at least do it right?..-"

"come on, lemme help you-.." He snaps at you slightly. Overcome with annoyance as he tries to help you. He forcefully but yet gently fixes your form, straightening your back by placing his hands under your stomach and over your back for a brief moment. His hands cold and a little rough, feeling them startled you. Making you gasp.

"Dude, what the fuck? I got it.." You say, sounding slightly defensive as you put your head down. Now starting to blush slightly. Dave stands up fully again and raises his eyebrows, realizing what he did.

"Okay, I'm sorry-..."

He feels embarrassed for a second, also starting to blush.

"Jeez-..." He mumbles, getting down beside you in preparation for his set of push ups. Just like sit ups before, he fly's through them while you can't keep up. Letting out huffs once again, Dave shortly follows after. This makes you less embarrassed as before. You hear Dave start to push harder, his breath sounding almost aggressive. As that blush intensifies you feel your stomach get slightly butterflies. Dave looks over to see you in a state, he chuckles slightly.

"Holy shit, you're face is red.." He silently blurts out, his tone sounding almost as if hes making fun of you.

"Shut up.." You snap, defensively. He finds it adorable and smirks slightly. You feel his eyes still on you and try ignore his gaze once more (a rather easy task).

(THIS FEELS SO UNFINISHED I'M SRRY") this is an old draft that was sitting in my notes for a while. Idk if writings really for me or not lol.

Ps; Happy holidays!

[strider-rambles]

holy shit the first motherfucking ramble is an emo one this shit crayz

anyway. uhm. man. as a kin(?) <- dubious but thats how ill be referring to myself for now ive always like. had such a tough time finding not only canonmates, but just.. sourcemates. in general. that i vibe with. i think perhaps my vibes are occasionally mad atrocious, but it's also like. OTHER PEOPLE are half of the issue too you know

takes two to motherfuckin tango, and bro, i'm stepping on these bitches' feet like it's dance dance revolution and like as a dave kin specifically. one who like. was quite young when i got into the fandom however many years ago and, even if i didn't know the term kin back then, i kinda.. knew. or, maybe the fuckin chicken (me) came before the egg (the kin) or whatever but

whatever. it resulted in me being.. kind of in a kinshift for like 4 years during the most formative years of my life

cray-z right

doesn;t matter its just like. because it's been such a present thing through my life ive met.. so many individuals who are like. you know. other kins which is great and all, but like

i haven't found people that i've vibed with for homestuck. the majority of the people i know and interact with now are comfortably in my little kin circle or whatever, are sort of the closest thing that i have to canonmates

nothing for homestuck. well nothing beyond a dirk. but i got lucky with him and i KNOW i got lucky with him because i. we're both kind of outcasts in the community, in the sense that we're. neurotic striders, i guess.

but he's like. helped a lot with the whole feeling alone and being all emotionally constipated about it thing.

but that doesn't help with the other shit

the missing my friends shit, the approaching so many fucking people bein' all like yooo whats GOOD bros and being hit with vibes that clash with mine or WORSE. vibes that WORK WITH ME. but they already have their dave

so whats the point you know?

i'm not going to be THEIR DAVE.

i have so many diverging fucking timelines and like

im dave. im davesprite. im every goddamn iteration of this stupid fucking asshole and MORE.

and

i hate the idea of being the secondary one, i guess. which is funny because. gestures. but like

it's gotten to the point where im so DESPERATE to find people. so DESPERATE to find my bros and my homies and my gals that i like i promised myself i wouldn't do this but i'm actively going "hey i can be your secondary dave, haha" you know. all fucking pathetic and shit

but i just.

i MISS my friends. so bad. and i think part of my struggle is like this is an OLDASS FANDOM. at least in terms of the internet, and so its harder to find people who have those roles unfilled, because like it's already.. you know.

and so like.

i'm stuck here. rambling into the fucking VOID on tumblr because i'm too. fucking. i dont know late??

funny to be late as a time player but womp womp motherfucker, pull yourself up by your bootstraps and start damage control

but like

in all seriousness. i'm losing mad hope

ive gone from being like hey, yall need a dave? to hey, yall need a davesprite? to. radio motherfuckin silence.

and as a result i kinda yap at dirk too much, which totally makes me tweak the fuck out, like, dude. he has a life (albeit a totally like. chill one, that aint all that busy) and he doesnt have the time to like tend to you like youre a child with scarlet fever, and every last word that your whiny little vocal cords can muster could be like... you know. your last. like his ass is NOT writing your obituary

and so like i pull away kinda. and like. because of that pulling away i suddenly have this like. yapping desire that needs to be fulfilled but like i like having peer review. like it keeps it from being a massive fucking echo chamber of just misery and bullshit and like.

yeah

and so i.

i don't know, man. i made this blog for a reason.

i don't know if i thought it would help, or if it would like. help me connect to people, or what

what am i even doin here dawg

like theres just this existential feeling of DREAD here. doomed timeline type shit lmfaoooo i don't know though i

it could bring something good

or this could be something terrible for me

or it could be like journaling. which i used to do in physical books, because i liked doodling back then, but, ive lost that hobby, so like

this exists

but i only journaled when i didn't have friends

i have friends

i think

i just understand that those friends don't want to listen to me. frankly i wouldn't either, i mean like. read this shit again. would you really wanna sit down with your bro and hear this type of shit i don't know. this kinda turned into. something horrible haha

i'm better mentally than i was 4 years ago but whats the point when i be bitchin and moanin and whinin like this still

point is:

i miss my friends. i miss yapping (at) with them. i miss having friends in the first place. i miss feeling like i'm home, kin wise. the irony of the matter is im LOCKED OUT OF THE HOUSE. instead of uhh (checks notes) HOMESTUCK.

haha. im so funny. haha. yeah. uh. ramble over for now. i might pick this shit back up.

[pesterloglog]

Vriska Serket, Vrissy Maryam-Lalonde

Candy, page 37

(VRISKA): I think that one is...

(VRISKA): A sort of snake?

(VRISKA): A snake with a strangely 8ig head.

VRISKA: Nah, it’s a pipe.

(VRISKA): A what?

VRISKA: It’s a Thing you Smoke with.

(VRISKA): Oh.

(VRISKA): You mean, like, the human marijuana I’ve heard Dave ram8le a8out sometimes?

VRISKA: God.

VRISKA: You Really Did grow up on an Alien Planet, didn’t you.

(VRISKA): Yes, as a matter of fact I did.

(VRISKA): I’m from the world which was home to the race you yourself are apparently a mem8er of.

VRISKA: Yeah 8ut I’m actually Normal?

VRISKA: No Offense.

(VRISKA): None taken. You’re a lot like me, really.

(VRISKA): I mean, unsurprisingly? This shouldn’t 8e shocking news.

VRISKA: You just kinda remind me of my mom.

VRISKA: Not in Many ways, I just mean you say shit that makes it O8vious this isn’t where you grew up.

(VRISKA): How is Kanaya, 8y the way?

VRISKA: Um. 8oring?

VRISKA: And Old.

VRISKA: Old and 8oring as Fuck.

(VRISKA): Hahahaha.

(VRISKA): Sounds a8out right.

VRISKA: I mean, Older Than Us, 8y a lot.

VRISKA: 8ut you knew her when you were the same age, so...

VRISKA: That’s why I said that? Fuck it. She’s like, Regular. A 8asic Ass Mom.

VRISKA: She’s fine, I like her. 8oth my moms are alright.

VRISKA: They’re a little o8sessed with all this War Shit though.

(VRISKA): Oh yeah?

VRISKA: Yeah.

VRISKA: Old people get hella 8ent out of shape a8out War And Politics.

VRISKA: Same shit as always.

(VRISKA): You’re right. I guess that’s how it was in my culture too.

(VRISKA): That one there.

(VRISKA): That’s... some sort of squat, can-like 8uilding, right?

VRISKA: What?

(VRISKA): Like the ridiculous structures my friends used to 8uild with the Mayor.

(VRISKA): Hey, is the Mayor still around?

VRISKA: The Mayor’s dead, dude.

(VRISKA): Shit!

(VRISKA): I loved the Mayor.

VRISKA: Everyone loved the Mayor.

VRISKA: He’s in our damn history 8ooks.

(VRISKA): Wow.

(VRISKA): 8ut you see what I mean, right? That one!

VRISKA: Lol, you don’t know Anything.

VRISKA: Kinda cute, actually.

(VRISKA): What?? Then what is it, smartass.

VRISKA: It’s a cake.

(VRISKA): ........

VRISKA: A 8irthday cake. See? Those are candles.

VRISKA: It’s so o8vious.

(VRISKA): Oh! Like those shitty things John’s dad was always making?

VRISKA: Guess so.

(VRISKA): What’s with all the clouds shaped like John stuff?

(VRISKA): Like that one there. That’s... a 8ig dollop of “shaving cream,” right?

VRISKA: Ummmmmmmm, nah.

VRISKA: That’s just a normal cloud I think.

(VRISKA): Fine, 8ad example.

(VRISKA): 8ut THAT one.

(VRISKA): That’s DEFINITELY a human hat.

VRISKA: Oh yeah, it totally is.

VRISKA: Just a fuckin’ Sky Hat. Right there.

(VRISKA): Is Earth C always like this?

VRISKA: I dunno, I never noticed.

(VRISKA): May8e this is just crazy nonsense, actually.

(VRISKA): Seeing shapes in clouds, I mean.

VRISKA: May8e. Idk.

(VRISKA): Or may8e the truth just makes me kind of nervous.

VRISKA: What “Truth”?

(VRISKA): Don’t tell him I said this, 8ut, I think John is just an extremely powerful 8eing. Even when he sucks.

(VRISKA): And he certainly does appear to suck in this reality.

(VRISKA): And yet, the uneasy feeling is there.

(VRISKA): It’s a vague feeling I’ve had in the 8ack of my mind for a long time, 8ut it really hit me when I was talking to him earlier.

(VRISKA): It’s distur8ing to think a8out that much power 8ottled up in one stupid nerd who’ll never understand it.

VRISKA: What Power are you even talking a8out?

VRISKA: Like, lame Wind Powers?

(VRISKA): No, I mean...

(VRISKA): The power to shape reality. Even without intending to.

(VRISKA): Like, just falling 8ackwards into the most insanely overpowered 8ullshit, when the rest of us have to work our asses off for a fraction of that kind of power and relevance.

(VRISKA): He could rewrite everything that ever happened if he wanted.

(VRISKA): And he could pro8a8ly even 8end reality to his will in certain ways even if he didn’t have the slightest idea what he was doing, which he usually doesn’t.

(VRISKA): He’d pro8a8ly manage to 8e more relevant than I could ever dream of 8eing even if he was dead.

(VRISKA): It’s a little depressing to think a8out, actually.

VRISKA: Eh, no it’s not.

VRISKA: Harry’s dad is a Joke! He’s a Washed Up Loser.

VRISKA: He’s not worth feeling shitty a8out At All.

(VRISKA): Wow. You know what?

(VRISKA): You’re RIGHT.

(VRISKA): Man, that is SUCH a good attitude?

(VRISKA): Why didn’t I say that??

(VRISKA): I used to say shit like that.

VRISKA: Hey, can I just ask...

VRISKA: Why were you making out with this Ridiculous Shithead?

(VRISKA): Wow, could we may8e not talk a8out that?

(VRISKA): I’m fucking em8arrassed.

VRISKA: I’m not even Judging. It’s not like I can 8lame you.

VRISKA: Sometimes a girl just needs to give up on her Dignity for a while and kiss a Dum8 Clown.

VRISKA: That does a lot to Explain my Relationship with Harry, actually.

(VRISKA): Haha.

(VRISKA): Yeah, that’s a good way of putting it.

(VRISKA): Let’s just call it a 8rief and inadvisa8le catharsis through fleeting clown lust, and agree to never speak of this again.

VRISKA: You got it.

(VRISKA): 8ut anyway, I was trying to make a point!

(VRISKA): I have to say... I’m almost a little jealous of you.

VRISKA: Jealous. Why? I’ve done fuck all.

VRISKA: I go to highschool and that’s a8out it?

VRISKA: Haven’t you like,

VRISKA: Literally Ascended To Godhood, cre8d Multiple Universes, and uh.

VRISKA: Killed Guys And Stuff?

(VRISKA): Yes, I did do all of that stuff.

VRISKA: Didn’t you Mind Control some idiot to jump off a Cliff, and he got Paralyzed...

VRISKA: 8ut then you started Dating him or something?

(VRISKA): Yeah.

(VRISKA): That was 8efore I killed him.

VRISKA: Lmao!!

(VRISKA): It’s cool though, we made up!

(VRISKA): As ghosts I mean. Well, a different copy of me did that, 8ut I think it still counts.

(VRISKA): Wh8ver, it’s just one thing I did. Who can even keep track of this stuff.

VRISKA: Didn’t you 8lind some O8noxious 8itch one time?

(VRISKA): HEY!

(VRISKA): Some of this stuff is kind of priv8??

(VRISKA): Anyway, the point wasn’t to go strolling down memory lane on some of the 8adass things I’ve done.

(VRISKA): Not that there isn’t a lot of gr8 material there.

(VRISKA): I’m just saying, with the life you’re living here, you seem...

(VRISKA): Free?

(VRISKA): Free to just 8e yourself, and 8e cool, and not really care too much a8out other people’s horse shit.

(VRISKA): I’ve spent so long caring so much a8out what other people thought of me. Mainly that they saw me as important, or making a “difference.”

(VRISKA): It’s such a futile struggle sometimes. And I thought I was doing SO well, and getting SO close to the 8ig prize... and then I end up... here???

(VRISKA): It’s like a 8ig joke. And sometimes it feels like real freedom is just understanding that.

(VRISKA): And when you do, it comes through in your personality, and it’s a lot easier to just seem...

(VRISKA): Cool. You know?

VRISKA: I guess.

(VRISKA): This is really funny. I feel like such a fuckup. 8ecause now that I’m saying this, I realize there WAS a person like that I met once.

(VRISKA): Like you, sorta. It was just another version of myself.

(VRISKA): She was genuinely happy, and living her 8est life, even though she was ironically a ghost.

(VRISKA): 8ut something a8out her attitude set me off.

(VRISKA): So I ripped her to pieces??

(VRISKA): Also I sort of stole her girlfriend.

VRISKA: Holy shit?

(VRISKA): I know! I’m terri8le.

VRISKA: No not really.

VRISKA: This all sounds kind of Legendary, t8h.

(VRISKA): No, I know! I know how it sounds.

(VRISKA): Just, please, don’t look at me as some sort of role model, ok?

(VRISKA): This isn’t good! The point is it’s 8AD!

(VRISKA): Take it from me, don’t do the shit where you start modeling yourself after some mental image you have of a cooler version of yourself! It just sucks.

VRISKA: Haha, alright, Whatever You Say. :::::::)

(VRISKA): Ugh. This isn’t going in the direction I was hoping.

(VRISKA): The POINT is, I was so mad at her.

(VRISKA): That happy ghost version of myself, who was free of everything.

(VRISKA): I was pro8a8ly mad 8ecause she got to 8e who she really was, without stressing a8out it, which is something I never felt like I was allowed to have.

VRISKA: Well.

VRISKA: You can now, right?

VRISKA: What the fuck is Stopping you.

(VRISKA): I guess so.

(VRISKA): I wonder what the point would 8e?

VRISKA: What do you mean.

(VRISKA): I could 8e a 8etter version of myself than I am, 8ut...

(VRISKA): Then...

(VRISKA): Who would even 8e around to notice?

VRISKA: I would.

(VRISKA): Oh, yeah. No, I mean, that’s gr8.

(VRISKA): And it’s nice talking to you, and getting stuff off my chest? It’s not what I meant, though.

(VRISKA): I left the people I care most a8out 8ehind.

(VRISKA): What’s the point of 8ecoming your 8est self, if the people most important to you aren’t around to witness it?

VRISKA: Um. Aren’t all your friends Here though?

VRISKA: I know they’re a 8unch of Old Fucks now, 8ut...

(VRISKA): No, they are. That’s...

(VRISKA): Not what I mean.

(VRISKA): Sigh. This is hard to explain.

(VRISKA): I guess I mean there’s someone specifically I fell out of touch with, who it feels like I’ll never see again.

VRISKA: Oh.

(VRISKA): May8e...

(VRISKA): May8e that’s why I h8’d my ghost self so much?

VRISKA: Why?

(VRISKA): 8ecause I just had a sense.

(VRISKA): On some level I knew she was right. She was happy and honest with herself. And that’s what made her...

(VRISKA): A version of myself who was actually worthy of someone I cared a8out.

(VRISKA): Don’t get me wrong, we had a nice time for a few years living on that meteor.

(VRISKA): It was a good, sta8le pale relationship. 8ut that’s all it was.

(VRISKA): We couldn’t really connect in a deeper way 8ecause I was still... the way I am, I guess?

(VRISKA): Layers and layers of armor and defenses.

(VRISKA): And I had some mysterious feeling that weak ghost version of myself was always meant to form the kind of connection with her that I never could, 8ecause she didn’t have any of that stuff getting in the way.

(VRISKA): Which is pro8a8ly why I flipped out at her.

VRISKA: The person you’re talking a8out here...

VRISKA: It kinda sounds like you Love her.

(VRISKA): What??

(VRISKA): No!

VRISKA: Okay, Whatever.

(VRISKA): I don’t 8elieve this.

(VRISKA): I mean... may8e?

(VRISKA): Sorta.

(VRISKA): It’s a complic8d feeling.

VRISKA: It actually doesn’t sound that complic8d, 8ut again, Whatever.

(VRISKA): I don’t know!!!!!!!!

(VRISKA): I still feel sort of messed up a8out this, and I don’t think I can pinpoint exactly how I feel!!!!!!!!

(VRISKA): May8e you can’t even 8oil it down to one quadrant at all!!!!!!!!

VRISKA: Who are we Talking a8out here?

(VRISKA): I DON’T THINK I CAN TALK A8OUT THIS ANYMORE!

VRISKA: Oh god, it’s not...

VRISKA: My MOM, is it?

VRISKA: Or one of them?

(VRISKA): Oh FUCK no. Not them.

(VRISKA): Anyway, they’re living on this planet. Remem8er I said I’d pro8a8ly never see her again?

VRISKA: Yeah.

VRISKA: You’re just talking a8out The Girl You 8linded that one time, aren’t you?

(VRISKA): Ummmmmmmm.

VRISKA: May8e I’m not Fucking Stupid?

VRISKA: I know some Lore.

VRISKA: I’m pretty sure Harry’s Dad used to talk to her a lot.

(VRISKA): What?

VRISKA: The 8lind Girl.

(VRISKA): He did? When?

VRISKA: I dunno. Years ago.

(VRISKA): How is that possi8le? I mean... from THIS place?

VRISKA: What. Earth C?

VRISKA: I don’t think I get the question.

(VRISKA): You still don’t seem to understand. We’re all inside...

(VRISKA): Never mind.

(VRISKA): What were they even talking a8out?

VRISKA: I have No Idea.

VRISKA: You wanna Look?

(VRISKA): Look at what?

VRISKA: Just a minute ago I swiped his Phone.

(VRISKA): You stole John’s phone??

VRISKA: Yeah.

VRISKA: I Steal Stuff sometimes.

VRISKA: The ha8it’s Pro8a8ly just in my DNA.

(VRISKA): Lol.

(VRISKA): Yeah, let’s take a look.

(VRISKA): How far 8ack does this go??

VRISKA: Not sure. 8efore I was hatched, at least.

(VRISKA): This is all...

(VRISKA): Weirdly flirtatious????????

VRISKA: Yeah.

(VRISKA): Terezi was like that with a lot of people though.

(VRISKA): Still, it’s a little jarring.

(VRISKA): It’s all kind of 8lowing my mind.

VRISKA: You know what this Means, don’t you?

(VRISKA): What?

VRISKA: You can Contact Her.

(VRISKA): Holy shit.

(VRISKA): What would I even say?

VRISKA: Tell her you Love Her.

(VRISKA): Oh, shut the fuck up.

VRISKA: Ha Ha Ha Ha.

(VRISKA): 8ut seriously...

(VRISKA): I have no idea where she is, or what she’s doing. Is she old now too, like everyone else?

(VRISKA): That would feel weird.

VRISKA: Only one way to Find Out.

(VRISKA): Hey Terezi.

(VRISKA): This isn’t John.

(VRISKA): It’s Vriska.

[ghost-orion]

hi, i disagree LDFKJG

Firstly I'd like to say that Dave is not a nice person and you're right about that, he is a dick and he's an unreliable narrator, making himself look better and such. But, however, (/hj)

Dodging or not talking about traumatic experiences that happened in his life is not a dick move, just flat out. (I was incredibly impressed when I reread the books and realized how much of a heavy thing it is, to, at 20 years old, write down the worst things that ever happened to you and publish it.) When Dave attacked Billy, it was not a nice move, it was shitty of him to do, yes. And I understand why he did it, because he was a deeply hurt child, a survivor of things that are incredibly heinous. He's driven by violence, he's been getting into fights since he got put up for adoption, getting into fights with no chance of winning, he's deeply mentally ill. It's not okay to do, no, but he did it, and he can't and wouldn't take it back. When Billy died, Dave was in the hallways, not caring, with his friends, yeah, he was being a dick - as a survivor, I could see that situation as his friends being more jokey about it than Dave, and Dave going along with the laugh, but that's me assuming. Or maybe he was laughing at a joke, he was hanging out with his friends and Jim happened to walk by, seeing him not performing thoughts and prayers, and Jim has his own issues. Either way, he was a child. (My personal headcanon is that he didn't actually attack Billy/he did but not as bad/Billy didn't kill himself afterwards, he just wrote that in his book to feel some sort of closure.>but that's not canon lol)

It is completely normal to feel conflicting feelings about one's rapist (especially since he didn't do much therapy), including regret for the retaliation, and the satisfaction for doing it, and a million other things as well, which he does feel but doesn't tell us other than from context, including fear and rage and everything else.

Dave turned to namecalling and diverting ridicule from himself in spec ed, and yes, that was a dick move. It was also a survival mechanism, and again he was a literal child, at about 16 iirc. When he was possessed by the shadows, they made him do things he would never do, intrusive thoughts he wouldn't act on otherwise - or deep immoral desires that we all have even if we don't like them, he's a 20 year old white dude from the South, politically uneducated, racially insensitive, misogynistic, self-hating, violence-driven, but still they were things he wouldn't do.

He suffers depression, he suffers heavy trauma, he takes anti-psychotics and the self-deprication is very real, and totally normal (not healthy, normal). He's not a nice dude, no, and yeah, I empathize because it makes sense to me.

I understand this story as taking that one kid you knew at school and putting him in the main character role, explaining what's going on up there. I also understand this story as deeply allegorical, with the extent to which things happen to him being real or not totally unclear. These books are a mess, and he is a mess, and this isn't me hating on you, not at all, I just think this reading is flattening him as a person massively.

David Wong is a Dick (Part One)

Alright, I wanna fuckin' talk about Dave/Amy (and John/Dave/Amy by proxy). I've read up to ITBEYITWU. This is gonna be messy but I don't care.

So first I want to establish something I feel is easy to forget when reading John Dies at the End: Dave is not a reliable narrator, nor an innocent person.

We see this most obviously in Lance Falconer, who is only revealed to be a dramatization of an actual guy later on. That one's just a joke. We also see him dodge things that happened to him on childhood. He dodges questions about Billy until he finally tells Amy everything. Then he pretends (briefly) he feels regret, only to confess otherwise. Jim states he saw Dave laughing as if things were normal less than a day after Billy died. We also know that Dave is the one who gave Amy the nickname Sea Cucumber. Dave is, factually, kind of a dick. Think about when Shadow People have possessed him with Krissy Lovelace - his thoughts, his reactions. Everything.

Dave is not a good dude, and he's writing in first person. While he self deprecates, sure, we know he isn't fully honest with his audience. He has control of the narrative.

We as readers inherently want to empathize with and root for Dave, and it's easy to let the less stand-out things slide because of it. Things like Shelly.

[contrispos]

Episode 11 - Devil’s Deal

[Star Wars: The Bad Batch]

I am angry right now, this was the least good episode of the show. I have to scream.

—

What planet is this?

There are colors

Conclusion: Aliens.

Twi’leks: Ryloth. HECK YEAH

Crosshair my dear boy

We meet again

RAMPASS

I WILL KICK YOUR ASS RAMPASS

THAT is general Syndulla

Who is that clone?

I need the name of that clone right now

He has no right to look that good

And THAT is Hera’s mom

WAIT ARE WE GONNA GET BB HERA????

OKAY THAT CLONE JUST GOT EVEN HOTTER SHUT THE FRONT DOOR

he has no right

FINALLY another reg who isn’t a mindless machine:)

Damn general that was a good speech

BUT THAT FUCKING CLONE DOESNT HAVE THE FUCKING RIGHT TO BE THAT HANDSOME

CROSSHAIR MAH MAN

okay but now they can’t not have Hera in this ep

OH MY GOD ITS CHOPPER!!!!!!!!!

oh and Hera

BUT ITS CHOPPER

MY BABY

chopper is ✨bwah bwah✨

is his name Chan, Chad, or Chav???

THERE IS THAT FUCKING CLONE AGAIN

Is it Cham?

Is this my new favourite clone? maybe, he might become it if he continues TO BE THAT FUCKING HOT

Houser?? Hozer?? Hold on lemme check the subtitles

Okay 1: His name is Cham.

2: The clone’s name is Howzer

HOWZER FUCK OFF STOP BEING HOT

It is… …unacceptable

WHERE IS THE BATCH HUH???? THEY WERE IN THE THUMBNAIL!!!!! THIS IS CLICKBAITING!!!!!

OKAY CROSSHAIR IS TAKING OFF HIS HELMET

ARE THERE SCARS????

WHERE IS HIS HAIR???????

is that a cybernetic eye?

DOES HE HAVE A CYBERNETIC EYE??????

okay no, he has his eyes

phew

BUT DAMN THE SIDE OF HIS HEAD THO

THAT LOOKS NASTY AF

OOOOOFFFFFF

ahhh i almost don’t wanna look at it, i feel bad for my toothpick son

also: i noticed something, crosshair’s imperial armor is really bulky compared to his tbb armor

okay don’t get me wrong i love Hera and her family but I just really want to see my sons and their daughter

What was it Rampass had to do? what was on the datapad???

okay it felt like imp!crosshair did his flip-and-aim thing very slowly, i’m just saying that tbb!crosshair woukd have done that in a heartbeat

okay but please can they meet the batch?? i miss them

IIIIIITS THE BAD BATCH

YES

MY SONS

AND MY DAUGHTER

I HAVE MISSED YOU SO

OMEGA YOU ARE STILL FUCKING ADORABLE

I LOVE YOU

TECH MY DARLING

I LOVE YOU

I love how Hunter just looks at Hera, he knows his little girl is badass

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“Hunter, can she come aboard?” *nod*

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Omega knows her shit, I bet Tech taught her

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“Tech won’t let me train until I can recite the ship’s specifications from memory”

TECH IS TEACHING HER HOW A SHIP WORKS

I REPEAT

TECH IS TEACHING OMEGA ABOUT HOW THE MARAUDER WORKS

AND HE IS BEING A DAD ABOUT IT

I WOULD SCREAM A BIT MORE BUT SPAMMING THE BUTTON IS ANNOYING

IS HER FAVOURITE PART OF THE SHIP HER ROOM???

oh my god that is so wholesome

Dave, does Wrecker know that Omega’s favourite part is the room he fixed for her?

OH MY GOD OMEGA IS SO SMALL

“Make a new friend?” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

YES OMEGA TELL EM YOU ARE READY TO FLY

“What… feeling?” Tech, yes you. YOU THERE!!! you are adorable, did you know that???

this can’t be the only thing we see of the batch in this episode

if it is I will kill myself

Aaaaand there is Crosshair again committing murder

maybe not but like almost

i mean yeah i’d love to move in if you just let me remove your chip first:))

yes Howzer tell em

Omg Howzer actually has a brain

is he fighting the chip or is it broken?

does he not have one???

I KNEW IT

CROSSHAIR WAS GOING TO COMMIT LE MURDER

okay i had my hopes that “rescue on ryloth” as next weeks ep meant they were rescuing cross, but know I realise that was fakse hope and they are rescuing the Syndulla family.

I am still angry about the lack of my sons…

[taylorhawkins]

When was the first time you saw Taylor?

Grohl: On a TV show with Alanis. I was caught by his energy. It was nice to hear a drummer add so much to that music. I knew the record but that was very different.

Hawkins: Of course. You were just thinking: 'Why is that guy freaking out like that?' (laughs) Yeah, I remember. Our bass player Chris Chaney was totally high on space cake. I remember him looking at me. He just kept asking: 'Does my bass sound okay dude?'.

Grohl: The whole band was freaking out and the songs had got totally revamped. The first time I saw you play live was some award ceremony, wasn't it? No! I remember, it was a festival in France, where Foo Fighters and Alanis supported Neil Young. Taylor reminded me of Stephen Perkins. You could spot the influence.

Hawkins: Man, I was a Stephen Perkins clone! But without the class, that is. When you're young, you like to get in someone else's skin, don't you?

Grohl: Yeah. It was funny, though. Alanis could have asked any solid session drummer for her tour. But she got him.

Dave, Taylor obviously liked his splash cymbals back then. So why ask him to join Foo Fighters, when you're known as a straight-ahead drummer.

Grohl: Meat and potatoes, yeah. But when I got to know him, I still didn't want him in my band, you know? He was just a friend and it was nice to watch him play. He was a splendid drummer and was also good for a chat and to hang out with. Maybe that was even more important. In a band, that can be useful.

Hawkins: Weird to hear you talking about me like that while I'm here.

Grohl: This is your life, Taylor.

Taylor, were you a Nirvana fan?

Hawkins: Sure! Unfortunately, I never saw them play. But I remember listening to just two records: 'Nevermind' by Nirvana and 'Grace' by Jeff Buckley. Round and round, again and again. But I never dreamed of playing with Dave or Foo Fighters. Then I found myself on a plane with Alanis, some time after the festivals we did together and she kind of guessed that Dave and I got along quite well. I mean, we spent quite some time together. She asked me what I would do, should he ask me to join his band. Of course I said I would NEVER EVER do that.

Grohl: Ha ha ha.

[x]

[fullmoonandstar]

Pedro Pascal Character Ranking

I saw someone do this and want to make a list too. So I present my Pedro Pascal Character Ranking based on how much I would want to be in a relationship with them xD ( in reverse order )

There is a bit of mature talk(not super explicit though) so read at your own discretion 

Haven’t watched the thing

Pero Tovar, Ezra, Dave York, Juan Badillo, Max(Bloodsucking Bastards)

No.

Max Lord

Hot mess

Pedro across the street:

I was gonna put him in ‚no.‘ because he seduced a married woman to rob a bank but apparently he has a magic dick that can make this up tight b*tch talk so points for that I guess XD 

Oberyn Martell

He is very hot and a prince. Good fighter too, not only as a poison expert but also as a warrior. Dedicated to family but if I’m honest the hedonism is just too much for me. Also comes with the baggage of being royalty. People would be scheming all the time and you can’t have five minutes with him, his concubine and the pool boy :((

Dieter Bravo

would date if it was the 70s, before people knew how dangerous drugs are. Canonically into assertive women. Definitely a plus point 

Francisco Morales

Seems pretty level-headed but lets himself get roped into some dangerous situation bc his old buddy asked and I can't tell if that is a good character trait here or not. I mean the man has a kid and a wife at home but still leaves. so yeah i will probably pass

Javier Peña

I’m on the fence about Peña; on the one hand, he is really caring towards his partners and you can see his love for them leaping out of his face, but he also has major commitment issues. (He left a woman at the altar and now has some pseudo (?) relationships with a bunch of hookers in town). He would definitely self-sabotage any serious relationship bc he thinks he is not good enough or whatever. ( I also don’t think we would be super compatible bc I’m a dom and he doesn’t strike me as someone who would be good a giving up control) Peña may be a good fling but has too many things he has to resolve on his own time for my taste 🙈

Would totally give them a try

Jay Castillo

A sweetheart. He is only this low on the list bc he had little screentime and thus not that much characterization   

Agent Whiskey

(I only watched Pedro-cut of the movie bc I already hated the first movie in this series ) He lost his family and is covering up his emotional damage with a cool image. It’s triggering my i-want-to-heal-him center bc he is good dude at heart and life just threw suffering at him. I want him to get better :(( I don’t remember much characterization but he is good with flirting and I hc him being kinda romantic. I don’t know if I dig the accent or not  

Marcus Moreno

He seems like a good dude and I would totally go on a date with him. I can only hope that his child doesn't hate me bc that would be a no go for him. Looks good in that tactical vest. 

Marcus Pike

A sweetheart but a bit too fast on the "will you marry me" question. The thing that gets me about him is when he kisses (what is her name?) he leans down and I got butterflies seeing that. That man is a giver, *I'm* a giver so this may work well UwU

Seriously asking for their hand in marriage

Din Djarin

he is actually very kind-hearted when you get on his good side. Since Grogu came into his life he has gotten more patient and open too. Din is loyal and will protect the people close to him. 

Only Downside, Din is probably ace. Like seriously, while watching the show there wasn’t a single character he had any sexual tension with. No man, no woman, no unspecified being. Yes, he was almost ready to settle down with that widow in season 1 but honestly, I didn’t feel the tension there either. And I mean come on, I would be all over that and he’s not gonna be interested ��

Javi Gutierrez

he is a ray of sunshine, okay? We both like movies (even though the stuff I watch is probably trash to him lol) so we can do that together. More similar interests: writing, boats? I also hc that he has a tennis court somewhere. Let play to gather Javi <3 He seems really attentive and affectionate and I’m like that too. Only downside, we would be to lovely dovey all the time 

[returntobeaconhills]

All Hale The King

“It was impressive to say the least,” Stiles said into the phone as Scott opened the door to their shared apartment.

Scott dropped his two bags of groceries onto the counter and started to unpack them.

“I mean, I’ve heard about them being that big, but I’d never actually had the joy of experiencing one.”

Scott dropped the carton of eggs onto the floor, creating a quick river of yellow yoke.

Stiles didn’t hang up the phone but did stick his head into the kitchen. “Hang on, Lyds.” He covered the phone. “You okay, buddy?”

Scott just gave a numb nod as he got to work cleaning up the mess. At least Stiles knew he was here now so maybe he would save any graphic details for the next time Scott was out. He prayed that he would.

Scott wanted to be a good friend. He really, really did. He knew Stiles had endured years of him talking about girls endlessly, and it would only be fair for him to listen to Stiles in return. And he totally was fine when Stiles wanted to talk about the hot barista named Dave that worked in the coffee shop around the corner where Stiles caffeinated up before pulling an all-nighter for a term paper. And he nodded along when Stiles explained how things got kind of weird with Malia when her were side got a little aggressive in the bedroom. Scott could handle Stiles talking about anything or anyone…except for Derek Hale.

Apparently, it was obvious to everyone in the world but Scott that there was some sort of crazy tension between Stiles and Derek for years. It took Stiles graduating college for Derek to finally agree to go out with him. Scott guessed that was the moment Derek had to finally admit Stiles was a full-fledged adult, but Scott was pretty sure Stiles had always been more mature than Derek and also that Derek was mostly using the age thing to avoid trying to explore anything that might make him happy because Derek hated being happy.

But they were dating now and Stiles had spent the night at Derek’s last night and now…now this conversation was happening.

“Derek told me Isaac and Erica liked how big it was. He also said Boyd acts like he thinks it’s awkward but then he always joins in.”

Scott slipped on a spot of yoke he missed and nearly faceplanted.

“Yeah, I was a little surprised but I guess it makes sense if you think about it. Werewolves like tactile reassurance. All about that closeness.” Stiles paced through the small apartment. “I mean, it could get weird sharing with them, but with it being that big…there’s more than enough for all of us.”

“For the love of God, please, please stop!” Scott cried out, rushing into the leaving room. “I can’t hear anything else!”

A slow smirk spread on Stiles’s face until he finally burst out laughing. “I’ll call you back, Lyds.”

“It’s not funny!” Scott said after Stiles hung up the phone. “Like, I’m totally happy for you, dude, but there’s just some things I can’t unhear.”

At that moment, there was a knock at the door. Stiles opened it, and there was Derek standing there with a chocolate shake for Stiles. Maybe if Derek had ever given Scott a chocolate shake, he would have been willing to join his pack.

Seeing Derek just made Stiles lose it with another fit of giggles.

“What’s so funny?” Derek asked, thick eyebrows creasing in annoyance at not being in on the joke.

“Nothing,” Stiles gasped out as he recovered from his laughter. “I was just on the phone with Lydia telling her about the California King that you got so that the pack can have cuddle movie nights,” Stiles said, shooting Scott a crooked grin.

Scott slapped a hand over his face. Stiles was doing all of this on purpose. That bastard. “A bed? You were talking about a bed?”

“Of course.” Stiles slung an arm over Derek’s shoulder and took the chocolate shake to slurp on it loudly. “Derek and I had a Marvel movie marathon last night and it was soooooo roomy and comfortable.” He gave the straw an obscene flick of his tongue, and Scott decided he was so moving out. “Why, what did you think I was talking about, Scottie boy?” 

[libraryofloveletters]

Brothers

In which, Luke develops feelings for Matt’s little sister. 

Luke Alvez x Reader, Brother!Matt Simmons x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, sibling banter, cm level of case details/violence, mentions of death, guns and gunshots, lots of pining, mentions of pregnancy and birth, kissing.

Category: fluff with a little bit of angst 

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: combined this request and this request to come up with this :) 

-----

The phone rang at what felt like quite literally the crack of dawn. “What?” you groaned when you picked up. “Where are you?” your brother’s voice filled your ear from the other side of the phone. 

“In bed, where else would I be at..” you pulled the phone away from your ear to check the time “5:56 in the morning?” 

Matt chuckled, “do you know a girl named Jenna Parker?” he asked. 

“I do, why ? Oh god, you're not cheating on Kristy right ? I swear if you’re calling to lie for you Matthew, I'll-” he cut you off.

“Shut up y/n and what did I tell you about calling me Matthew? I’m not cheating on Kristy you idiot, Jenna was killed last night” you sat up in bed, “What ? I saw her at dinner last night” 

“Stay where you are and get dressed. Agents will be at the hotel to collect your team for questioning” he told you. 

“Matt I had nothing to do with this, you know that right ?” 

“I know, standard procedure. I’ll see you later” he hung up. 

You dragged yourself out of bed and got dressed. Jenna’s face kept reappearing in your thoughts, she had only joined your team recently and she was an absolute sweetheart. She was telling you how excited she was to join the team last night at dinner. 

A knock on the door broke your thoughts, you unlocked it assuming that your brother had come to get you. 

This was most definitely not your brother. 

The man at your door had dark brown hair and tan skin.Something about his eyes made you want to stare into them forever, they were a soft brown mocha colour. He had a piece of paper in his hand, his finger ran across the page, “are you.. y/n?” he asked you 

“I am and you are?” 

“Agent Luke Alvez, I’m with the BAU. I’m here to pick you up for questioning” 

“Oh yeah, get me one second” you turned around and headed back into your room, Luke followed you in. “Ever heard of privacy ?” you picked up your phone and a sweater. “Oh sorry, I can’t let you in here by yourself until we processed you” he explained to you. “Lovely” you pulled on your sweater, he motioned for you to head out of the room. 

You stepped out first, he shut your door as the two of you walked down the hallway. “Your last name is Simmons ?” he looked over at you as you got on the elevator. “Mhm hm” you pulled your phone out to text your brother. 

To Matt: On my way now. Your friend is weird. 

From Matt: Who’s my friend ?

To Matt: Handsome guy with the pretty brown eyes, think his name is Luke 

From Matt: stop objectifying my friends, I'll see you soon. 

Luke didn't say anything else to you, the drive to the station was quiet except for you conducting your own little interrogation. 

“How long have you worked for the BAU ?” you looked out the window, 

“About 2 years now. How long have you been swimming ?” he rebutted. 

“My whole life” 

It did occur to Luke that you might be Matt’s little sister. He knew how proud Matt was of you and your swimming career, he also knew that Matt was supposed to see you this weekend while you were in D.C for training. After all, the sweater did say Simmons on the back, it couldn’t be a coincidence. 

Luke walked you into the station, the rest of your team was already there. “Hi, you must be y/n” a tall woman came up to you, she had short brown hair and she looked remarkably good considering how early it was.

“That would be me” you smiled at her, “you are?” she stuck her hand out for you, “Dr. Tara Lewis with the BAU” you shook her hand. 

“Nice to meet you Dr. Lewis” “You too”  

Tara excuses herself from you, Luke walks you over to a waiting area. All the girls were separated for obvious reasons but with nothing else to do, you figured you’d irritate Luke. 

“Why can’t I see the rest of my team?”

“Standard procedure” 

“And what is this standard procedure ?” 

“It’s-” “Stop harassing him y/n” your brother said as he walked into the room. 

You stood up and gave him a hug. It had been so long since you last saw your brother. 

“Hey you” he gave you a good squeeze, “hey” you smiled at him. 

Matt led you to a room and you took a seat at the table. “I can’t do your questioning because I'm your brother but I'm leaving you in good hands” Luke and Tara walked in a few moments after. “You’re leaving me with pretty eyes over here ? I might just get distracted and forget what he asked” you chuckle, Luke looks away but you manage to catch the blush you comment caused. 

“Behave y/n, I'll be back later” Matt kissed the top of your head before walking out. 

Luke and Tara sit across from you. “How did you meet Jenna ?” Tara asked you, “she was on my swim team, she joined a few months ago” 

“Were the two of you close ?”

“Not really, we didn't hang outside of practice but we got along” 

“Is there anyone that would have a reason to hurt Jenna ?” Luke asked this time. 

You paused, something Jenna had said to another one of the girls cause caught your attention a while back. “Not that I know of but apparently someone had broken into her apartment a while back. She was telling one of the other girls and I heard them. She moved from there though” 

“Do you have the address ? I’ll have Garcia check if she filed a report” 

“47 Park Street, not sure what unit was hers” you drummed your fingers against the table. Tara’s phone rang and she excused herself before stepping out of the interrogation room. Luke was also on the phone but he stayed in the room, you took a moment to really look at him. He wore a black button up that fit him far too well for your liking, his hair was messy but not like he had just rolled out of bed, more like his hands had been through it a few times. His tongue ran across his lips while he talked on his phone. Luke's hands rested on the table, he spun the pen on the table around a few times before getting off the call. 

God were his hands pretty, the things you’d let him do to you with those hands

“Y/n ?” Luke’s voice broke your thoughts. 

“Hm?” 

“Do you know if Jenna was seeing anyone ? A boyfriend maybe ?”

“Um no boyfriend but she was seeing a girl she met through our coach” 

“Oh okay, do you know her name ?” 

“Erica, uh her last name started with a G ? I’m not really sure” 

“That’s fine, thank you. I’ll be back” was all he said before stepping out of the room. You watched as he walked out, he stood by the window talking to some skinny guy. 

Your definition of the perfect man was Luke and everything he seemed to be, but you doubted that anything could happen between the two of you. He seems to be ignoring your glances and your flirty remarks all morning. Matt was the other issue, never would he ever let you date anyone on his team, let alone one of his close friends. 

--

“Alvez!” Tara shouts as she meets him up by the suv “Hey, need a ride ? I'm headed to the crime scene” he asks her, she nods before getting in the car. The drive was quiet, Tara kept glancing over at Luke and snickering. 

“Okay c’mon, what is it ?” 

“Nothing” 

“You keep looking at me funny, what happened ? something on my face?” Luke runs his hand over his face, Tara shakes her head. 

“Tara, what is it ?” 

“Luke, you’ve got a crush on Simmons” she laughs. 

“Matt ? I don't have a crush on Matt”

“No you idiot, y/n. You have a crush on y/n” 

“What? No I don't” 

Okay maybe Luke did have a tiny crush on her but Matt would never approve of him dating his little sister and he wouldn't let a crush affect his work life. 

“Alvez, don’t act stupid. I know I wasn't the only one noticing the glances between you two, I saw them since the two of you came in this morning. And that ‘pretty eyes’ comment ? she totally made you blush” Tara chuckled, “she’s into you dude, and you’re into her” 

“She’s Matt’s sister Tara, I’m not gonna do that” 

“So what if she’s Matt’s sister? She’s her own person. Matt doesn’t control her Luke.” 

Luke just hummed, Tara did have a valid point. Y/n was a grown up, she can make her own decisions. So what if Matt was mad at them ? 

God Alvez, what are you thinking ? That’s his sister, you couldn’t do that to him. 

Luke pulled into the hotel parking lot. He followed Tara inside but he wasn’t paying attention. He was there but he wasn't really there, his mind kept wandering back to y/n. 

Oh how he envied Spencer in that moment, he knew that he wouldn't remember how y/n looked exactly when he first met her but he’d keep that memory for as long as he could remember it. Her shuffling feet, her messy hair and her sleep laced voice, she seemed like an angel on earth to him. 

---

“Kid?” an older man shook your shoulder gently. “Hm, what is it ?” you stretched, you must have fallen asleep after Luke left. “you can leave, maybe get some rest when you get back to the hotel” the man chuckled, and you smiled at him. 

“Thank you,” you looked at his badge, “Agent Rossi” you finished your sentence. 

“Please just Dave” he smiled and opened the door for you, you stepped out of the room. “You’re Matt’s sister aren’t you ?” 

“That would be me” 

“He’s outside. He should be able to give you a ride back to the hotel, if not, I'm in here” Dave told you. 

“Thank you, it was nice meeting you” 

“You too kid” he patted your back and headed in the opposite direction. 

You walked out of the station to see your brother and Luke standing by the suv talking about something. “Hey ugly” you poked Matt’s side, “hey tiny” he hit your arm playfully making you pout. “I’m not tiny” 

“oh but you are” 

“shut it Matthew, I need a ride” 

“Where to ?” 

“My bed bro, Dave said I could leave” 

“You’re on a first name basis with my colleagues?” 

“Jealous that they’ll like me better?” you raised your eyebrows and held back a laugh. 

“Oh yeah totally oh my god, y/n please don’t take my friends from me” Matt said sarcastically while giving your shoulder a little nudge. 

Luke chuckled at the both of you and your banter, it was sweet how close the two of you were.

Your sweet moment was ruined by the sound of bullets hitting the suv. Matt’s first instinct was to wrap his arms around you, Luke stood there with his gun drawn and no one in sight except you and Matt. 

“What the hell was that ?” Luke asked, he stepped back taking a look around once more and turned back to you and Matt. “Are you okay ?” Matt asked you with his arms still around you, you nodded. “Are you okay ?” you asked him but your eyes were on Luke. Luke noticed your look and gave you a little nod, “I'm fine, let’s get you back” 

Luke left you and Matt in the parking lot with the keys to his suv before heading into the station to get Emily. Matt drove you back to the hotel, you sat in the parking lot with him for a while, Matt was showing you pictures of the kids and how big they’ve gotten. You had yet to meet the newest addition to the Simmons family, the little one that has yet to be born but it’s like the baby is already here. Matt was so excited even though this was the 4th time Kristy would be giving birth.

“You’re going to be okay ?” Matt asked you as he walked you to your room 

“Yeah, I'll be okay Matt” 

“You know what to do if you need anything right ?” 

“Yes Matt, I'll call my super cool FBI agent for a brother to come rescue me” you laughed making Matt roll his eyes.

“That’s exactly what you’ll do, now you’re sure you don’t want to come back to my place ? Kristy and the kids are at home and I’m sure they’d love to see their aunt” 

“Hm, maybe. Let me get my stuff ?” 

“I’ll help” 

Matt walked into your room and helped you gather your things before heading back to the suv and driving you to his place. “Babe!” Matt called as he walked into the house, “Shh the kids just went down for a nap, they were playing outside all day” Kristy told him, giving him a hug. 

“Is the case over already ?” she asked him, he shook his head. 

“No, just had to bring our guest over” 

Right on cue, you walked in with your bags. “Hey pretty lady!” you pulled Kristy into a hug, “Hey you!” she hugged you back, well as best as she could considering she had a huge bump right now. “Ready to pop yet ?” you laughed with your hand on her belly. “Just about, I told him no more after this one” she gave Matt a look and he just shrugged. 

“I can’t help it, you’re just so-” Matt started but you cut him off

“Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross, I don’t wanna hear that” 

Matt and Kristy laughed at your comment, Matt headed back out to work while you helped Kristy make dinner for your little rug rats.

--- 

Luke sat in the conference room when Matt came back. “Hey man, where’s your sister?” he glanced at Matt, “she’s at my place with Kristy and the kids” he told him. Luke let out an ‘oh’ that sounded rather sad. 

“You okay man ?” 

“Oh yeah, I'm fine” 

“Then what’s with the sad look on your face ?” 

Matt sat across from Luke waiting for his answer. Luke contemplated if he could tell Matt what was really on his mind or if he should make up something. Would he be mad if I liked her ? The voice rang through his head over and over again.  “She’s her own person. Matt doesn’t control her Luke.” Tara’s words came back to him. He should just tell him how he feels, he doesn't want to lie to him. 

“Is your sister seeing anyone ?” Luke blurts out much more awkwardly than he’d expected, Matt gave him a weird look. 

“I don't think so, why do you ask ?” Matt looked over at him 

“Oh just cause the case, gotta cover all the bases” Luke lied 

“Are you sure that’s the reason you’re asking me about her ?” 

Did Matt know ? No, he couldn't know. He played it cool. Oh what was he thinking? Tara figured it out, Luke’s sure Matt did too. 

“What do you mean ?” Luke avoids Matt’s stare, instead he busies himself with the papers scattered across the table. 

“You know exactly what I mean Luke.” Luke’s eyes met Matt’s, Luke knew that Matt knew and he couldn't bullshit his way out of this one. “Come on” Matt stood up, Luke mirrored his actions. “Where are we going ?” 

“Just come with me” 

The two men walked out of the station and got into the car. They were now 15 minutes into their ride and Matt has yet to tell Luke where they're going. Luke looks over at him, “I know you like her” Matt says quietly. “I do” Luke replies. 

The rest of the drive is silent, Matt pulls into his driveway. 

“Tell her” was all Matt said to him

“Tell her what?” 

“Tell her you like her, you both deserve happiness. I trust her judgement, she always did know what was good for her and you, I trust you with my life man, I can trust you with her” Matt told him before getting out of the car. Luke stayed in the car for a few minutes gathering his thoughts before headed into the house. 

“Hey” he smiled at Kristy who was in the living room, she looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. 

“Hey Luke, how are you ?” 

“I’m good, how are you ?” 

“Very pregnant” she laughed, Luke chuckled making his way over to her and gave her a hug. Kristy knew why he was there, Matt wasn’t the only one with profiling skills in the house. 

“She’s in the backyard” Kristy gave Luke’s hand a squeeze, Luke had an amused look on his face as if Kristy wasn't supposed to know about his crush on y/n. Luke whispered a thank you to her before heading to the backyard. 

You sat on the swing hanging from the tree, you had been there when Matt put it up. Kristy had a vision of a swing from her tree and Matt being the husband he is, made her vision a reality. The sound of footsteps filled your ears, too heavy to be Kristy or the kids and too light to be Matt’s, you look up to see Luke standing in front of you. 

“Hey there agent, here to arrest me ?” you stick your hands out in front of you, the blush you saw this morning was back. “Kidding Luke, what’s up ?” you asked him, he leaned against the tree watching you swing back and forth. 

“Just wanted to see how you were doing after this afternoon” 

“Oh the parking lot thing ? I'm fine, are you okay ?” 

“I’m good too” 

Silence filled the air, you swung back and forth on the swing while your feet dangled above the ground. Luke stood in front of you, his hands on the rope stopping you from swinging again. You looked up at the man who was looking down at you. 

“I came here to tell you something” Luke says.

“I’m listening” you look at him.

“I like you” he admits.

“That’s cool, I like you too” you reply casually.

Luke gives you a look, only then did you realize that he meant he liked you, as in he was attracted to you and not he likes you as a friend. “Oh you like like me?” you said making Luke chuckle, “yes y/n, I like like you” he admitted to you. 

This whole scene made you feel rather childish in some ways. Your older brother’s friend was towering over you while you sat on a swing like a child and he admitted he had feelings for you, especially after you asked if he “like likes’ you. 

“Well for your information, I don’t like you” you said rather bluntly. Luke’s smile dropped from his face. “Oh okay” he turned on his heels and made his way to the fence, you sat on the swing and realized he wasn't coming back towards you. 

“Luke!” you shouted as you ran after him, meeting on the front lawn, he stopped and looked at you. “I was only kidding” your hands cupped his face, “I do like you, a lot.” you admitted. 

“Do you like like me though y/n?” he asked seriously. 

“Yes Luke, I like like you” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Luke pulled you closer to him by your waist as he leaned down towards you. You were on your tiptoes, his hands on your hips to hold you before you toppled over. Luke’s lips met yours right as the sprinklers on the front lawn turned on. 

The two of you stood on the lawn, the sprinklers soaking your clothes without a care in the world.

All you could think about was Luke. 

----

taglist: @aaronhotchnerr​ @mac99martin​ @aaron-hotchner187​ @luke-alvez​ @iconicc​ @tclaerh​ @lieberhers​ @pumpkin-reads​ @ssa-holmes​ @katexrichardson​ @sluttytears​ @thelukealvez​ @scandinavian-punk​ @haleymalaffey​ @sunnymulti

[mirrorforevers]

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

-

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

-

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

-

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

-

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

-

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

-

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

-

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

-

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

[ramp-it-up]

Fine

Pairing: Rafel Casal x Reader

Word count: 2Kish.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE! Dark Dom!Rafa, Daveed dancing, drinking, cursing, angst, possessiveness, ex sex, face slapping, bathroom sex, fingering, oral (f receiving) clit slapping, orgasm denial, bdsm, binding, lashing, gagging oral (m receiving).

Summary: You didn’t need Rafa anymore. You were just fine without him.

A/N: This is a little dark. I think I’ve used this pic of Rafa before, but it’s perfect for this fic. And btw, I’m on my Rafael Santiago Casal Bullshit. Watch out.

-----------

It had been 84 days and you were perfectly fine.

Out with your girls, you were wearing your freakum dress, getting plenty of attention and drinks.

You were fine.

So fine, that you were debating on which fine man to go home with. You surveyed the room for your pick. They’d all bought you a drink. You were polite, drank with them and told them you’d get back with them. You were trying to decide.

The chocolate one with the light eyes and the razor sharp fade?

The light skin with the gap teeth and hella swag?

The beefy blonde with the buzz cut?

You downed your fifth drink and moved towards those pretty gap teeth and swag.

Someone tall stepped in front of your 5” 6” frame in heels. You zigged and they zagged, blocking you from your goal.

You sighed and looked up at them, ready to politely ask that they move or cuss them out. It just depended on how their face made you feel.

You looked up to see Daveed and you squealed.

“DIGGS! HOLY FUCK IS THAT YOUUUU????”

He smiled and laughed at you.

“The one and only. What’s crackin’ girl?” He leaned back and surveyed your form in the dress.

“Damn! You’re still fine as hell!” He was shaking his head.

You threw yourself at him, your short body almost knocking his big lanky ass over with your over zealous buzzness. He laughed and hugged you more, leading you away from the bar.

“Where’s my girl?” You looked around for Daveed’s other half.

“She’s across country at a gig. I miss my Lady.” Daveed’s pout was adorable.

“Awwww, po baby. I’m gonna have to tell her to give you some electronic lovin.’” You started to pull out your phone.

“Oh, don’t bother. She already knows what’s up. Come dance with me.”

Daveed had turned into Mr. Smiley, and as usual, you couldn’t resist him. But you loved to tease.

“Boy, you know you can’t dance.”

“Fuck you mean????” Daveed started doing a very ugly robot.

“Fine! Let’s dance, ugh!”

You groaned and grabbed his hand to pull him out on the floor before he could embarrass himself, and you, any further.

Y’all had a ball, laughing and trying to talk to each other over the loud music, Daveed white girl dancing and you trying to teach him some moves.

After about four songs, the music turned slow and you two stood there awkwardly.

“Well, I guess I’ll go….”

You looked around to see if High Yella was still around.

Daveed’s eyes were above your head and the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

“May I have this dance?”

FUCK fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You turned around, and came face to face with Rafael Casal. Damn he was so fine.

You cocked your hip and crossed your arms, and glared up at him, mad because you felt like this was a trap.

Rafa stared at your pushed up breasts in the dress and your nipples pebbled as he licked his lips wolfishly.

You avoided the memories of Rafael’s excellent nipple play looked back at Daveed for rescue to see that Rafa’s wingman had suddenly disappeared.

You turned your head back to Rafa, the swivel in your neck obvious.

“I should have known that you would be lurking around here somewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, super annoyed and full of attitude.

And that’s why Rafa’s dick was on hard. He needed to give you some act right.

He’d watched you promise your body to every dude in the place with that fucking dress and lead them on. He needed to remind you whose it was.

Fuck that he’d given you the ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ months ago.

You belonged to him.

“I don’t lurk, Sweet Pea, I flow. And yeah, you know Diggs is the Yin to my Yang, and vice versa.”

Rafa was speaking low enough that you had to lean in, and you caught his scent. Fuck if you weren’t thrown back 83 days to the last time you’d let him take you apart and literally screw you back together.

That dick was an artistic masterpiece, just like everything about Rafael Casal.

But you were fine.

“You have some nerve, calling me Sweet Pea. Fuck you, Santiago.”

You were heated, and maybe it’s because you wanted some act right. You cursed your pussy’s muscle memory and the five drinks you had that were making you weak for him. Because other than that, you’d be fine.

“Maybe later.” He smirked at you, so damn cocky.

“So, are you gonna stand in the middle of the dance floor and cuss me out, or are you gonna move to the music with me?”

Rafa held out his arms and you looked around, pretending that you didn’t want to be encircled by them again. But you couldn’t be rude, right?

You stepped to him and he put his hands around your waist and crossed them behind you, pulling you flush to him. You stared at his lips as you felt him look down at you.

You didn’t dare look into his eyes, but this view was making you remember what that mouth do.

Shit.

Rafa cleared his throat.

“So, how have you been?”

You looked over his shoulder to the speakers on the stage.

“These past three months have been fine, just fine, Rafael. My life is so zen now. I’m happy.”

“Not quite three months, Sweet Pea. 83 days and 14 hours. And I’ve missed you like crazy.”

You looked up into his eyes when he said that. Oh, hell.

“Oh. Did you now?” You were hot.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you broke up with me the morning after you fucked me goodbye, you self centered narcissist asshole.”

You tried to leave his embrace, but Rafa slid his hands around to hold you fast, thumbs digging into your hip bones, hurting you. At the same time, his grip caused you to feel his desire pressed against your stomach.

You gasped and slapped his face. Hard.

You two stared at each other on the dance floor for a full ten seconds which seemed like forever.

The next thing you knew, you were being pushed up against the stall in the bathroom, the act of Rafa pulling you in there a total blur.

It always started like this, rough, fast, and hot.

Rafa’s hands were under the hem of your dress, dragging it up so that he could grab your panties and pull them down.

“You seem to have forgotten lesson number one. Whose pussy is this, Sweet Pea?”

You refused to answer and closed your eyes, memories of him seducing you just by teaching your fucking Poetry 201 course years ago flooding your brain.

He shook his head and knelt on the filthy floor as he removed and pocketed your thong.

“You prolonging your submission just prolongs the punishment, Sweet Pea. Is that what you need tonight?”

He licked a stripe up your leg and slung it on his shoulder, rutting into your pussy with his mouth.

Your protest at him stealing your clothing died on your lips and was replaced by a moan as Rafael’s skillful tongue started to swirl around your clit, while his fingers came up to roughly finger fuck your cunt.

“Damn, Rafa.”

You moaned and pulled his hair as his other hand came up to try and still your squirming on his face.

“Shut up and stay still, damnit.”

He spoke to you through your pussy, and your eyes rolled back in your head as the vibrations drove you crazy.

You tugged harder on his hair, which made him graze your clit with his teeth. Then, he laved it with his tongue and leaned back to look at it adoringly and then up at you.

You stared down at him, and watched his face glisten with your arousal. Then you caught his look. He sighed at your insolence.

“Fine. You know the drill. This is going to be payback.”

Before you could move, Rafa reached up and lovingly swirled three fingers around and around your clit, then slapped it three times.

You screamed, thankful that the club music was back to a loud cacophony.

He looked at you again, smiling that fucking smile.

“You wanna cum all over my face, Sweet Pea? Want me to make you unravel right here?”

You refused to answer him, but you both knew what was up. Rafa just chuckled at you, and leaned back in to devastate you with his mouth.

He flattened his tongue and took wide, languid strokes against your clitoris, keeping eye contact with you.

You were on fire, all nerves alive and reacting to what he was doing. He inserted two fingers inside you and curled them so precisely to that spot that always made you wonder if he was present at the engineering of your pussy.

You quivered, eyes squeezed shut and tears eaking out, so close to doing what he’d asked you about and bracing for it. Your muscles were taught, your feet were on tiptoe, even further than your 5 inch heels required, and you were holding your breath.

As soon as you felt you were about to gush into his mouth, suddenly, his warm tongue was replaced with cool air, and his fingers withdrew from your cunt.

“Arrghhhh! Cash! Fucking hell????”

He stood up, licking his fingers as he turned away from you, washed his hands and face, and used the water on them for his hair.

You were quivering with rage and desire. As you fixed your mouth to cuss him out, he spoke, calmly.

“You better not fucking move until I’m done.”

Rafa’s ice blue/green eyes in the mirror, and the tone, made you stand stock still, your dress still around your waist. Your pussy throbbed with excitement.

He finished the swoop, then turned back around to you, straightened your panties and pulled your dress down.

Then, he grabbed your face, pushing you against the stall again. His voice was menacing and cold.

“That’s just the beginning of your punishment for slapping me out there.”

You were dripping on the floor now. You wanted to hear what was next, despite yourself. No one could destroy and put you back together as eloquently as Rafael could.

Fuck, how you’d missed it. You were so wound up.

“If you want me to finish it, you know what to do. If you’re done…”

His eyes took in your face. So fucking beautiful.

“Well, goodbye Sweet Pea.”

He leaned in, and gave you a kiss, releasing your face and his hold on you. You moaned a little and put your arms around his neck, reveling in the tenderness while wanting the pain.

You whimpered as he pulled away, backed toward the door and walked out.

You went to the sink and put a cold paper towel on your neck, fixing your makeup and hair and getting your mind right.

You looked in the mirror. You were fine. You didn’t need what Rafael Casal had to offer.

You made a decision, straightened up and walked out of the bathroom.

----

An hour and a half later, you were in Rafael’s bedroom, naked on your knees, hands tied around your back, the lashes on your ass throbbing, gagging around his cock and praying that he’d let you breathe before you passed out.

You didn’t need Rafa.

But you wanted him.

And that was more than fine.

———

I hope it was fine for you! 😜

Tagging:

@sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri  @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @anh1020 @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @delaber @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @janthonybitch @einfachniemand @elocinnicole @mysearchforgratification

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 11 “VoiceFarting” [Episode List] Tim and Adam are hanging out on... Liscord, playing some stuff together, waiting for Dave to join them for a game. When Adam unexpectedly has to leave however, Dave decides to do some… microphone testing.

VoiceFarting

“I’m going in as a mage ‘cause you fuckers can’t cast for shit” I heard Adam say right into my ears.

This was one of our usual game nights. We’d voice chat on Liscord on our own server and all that stuff. Adam was being, for the lack of a better term, kind of bitchy, ‘cause he thinks as himself as the most skilled gamer around even though we’re always reviving his ass. In the end it’s all in good fun of course, but we’d all happily mute him during a match if we could.

“Yes, Adam. Have fun with the ‘easy mode’ character.” I said, deliberately baiting him.

“Listen here you little shit” he immediately blurted “I can accept that you’re gay but I’m not going to accept the fact that you’re a scrub.” he said, obviously joking, though he did take skills seriously during a match.

“Yeah yeah but I’m the one using the axe, fighting enemies face-to-face like a man.” I kept teasing him. “How’s going up there? Still casting light arrows from your safe space?” I cackled.

“Excuse me???” his icon lighting up, the audio clipping “Why don’t we check your stats instead? Too afraid of looking like the scrub you are??? I literally made no mistakes last time.”

“Of course you didn’t: the chance of making mistakes is like 0% when you stand still and far from the battle.”

There was a moment of silence, then I heard Adam’s breath into the mic “You know I know where you live, right?”

I laughed but before I could continue this very deep and mature battle of wits, we both heard the sound notifying us that our bud Dave joined the voice chat. Now, whenever Dave joins, we usually hear every sound except for his voice, so we were ready to have our ears busted because of the noi-

“Hey noobs!” Dave greeted us, with a voice that was instead crystal clear.

“What the hell” both me and Adam said, our avatars lighting up at the same time.

“I see you noticed that you can now hear my beautiful voice perfectly.” he bragged, and rightfully so.

Normally we could hear his PC’s fans, what was going on down the street, cars passing by, atoms crashing into each others… farts. But now it was just Dave with his now-soothing voice calling us names.

“Are you finished?” Adam said.

But there was no response from Dave.

“Did he finally die?” Adam continued.

I heard a faint sigh of relief from Dave and then he went “Yeah, now I’m finished.”

I kind of suspected what happened but I didn’t say a word.

“Wait. You didn’t hear a thing?” Dave asked, puzzled.

Both me and Adam shrugged as if he could see us, but then said that no, we didn’t.

My detective skills told me that my gassy straight bud ripped one of his classic loud farts, but the new microphone had that “background noise reduction” feature (which my friend seriously needed) so it didn’t register his ass-blast as the old one usually did, so much so that Dave’s frequent farts would eventually turn into white noise for the rest of us. But now, his new headset was actually worth the price and all we could hear was indeed his voice.

“Can we just get into the game befo-“ Adam blurted, but was cut off mid-sentence by a loud, ear-piercing sound coming from Dave, though that wasn’t him speaking or screaming.

My fartbro really didn’t want us to miss what his ass is capable of, so we were both startled by a powerful, audio-clipping fart that completely overwhelmed our voice begging him to stop. And he did stop, but only after like 12 seconds. The rip was followed by the sound of Dave re-adjusting his microphone and laughing. “Hopefully you heard that now.” he chuckled.

I did hear it. I was very familiar with it. Truth is that Dave farting during our game sessions wasn’t anything new however. Even I was used to it, though that did pitch a tent in my shorts. I started wondering whether Dave was in jeans, shorts or boxers. Probably the latter, and shirtless, given that it was a warm evening. I tried to not to let my usual simp-ness over my bro take over me but apparently it was already too late, as I didn’t even notice Adam begin pissed off about an unwanted phone call.

“I’m sorry guys, I gotta take this one.” he said, annoyed. “Do not wait for me. Cya tomorrow I guess.”

And logged off, another sound notifying us that he went into the terrible real world realm.

“Alone at last, bro.” Dave said, in a flirty tone, just as Adam left.

I laughed and mindlessly switched to a different, this time single-player game as we needed at least 3 guys to play, one of those brutal action games that I suck at but I have to beat.

Dave did the same, with a similar game, and we both started gaming on our own but keeping each other company, like we usually do, occasionally exchanging opinions on what we were playing and so on.

“It’s probably his ex-girlfriend” Dave said.

“Yeah. I figured.” I simply answered.

Adam wasn’t really talkative about his personal stuff like me or even Dave, so neither us really knew what was going on. But if our bud didn’t want us to know, not fully know at least, then we respect this decision.

After a couple of more minutes of silence, I heard some sounds coming from Dave. Not a fart, this time though.

“Did you say something?” I asked.

I heard some muffled noises and then Dave’s voice, lower than usual though “I’m just messing with the settings here. I feel like sometimes the volume gets messed up.” and he was right.

“Yeah the audio is kind of low now.” I warned him.

I heard some more noises (keyboard tapping, mouse clicking, etc.) and then I heard him speak again.

Or, to be more precise, he did make a sound with his mouth, though those weren’t words; a loud belch, actually, right into my ears. Dave was more of a farter, but he wasn’t new to wild, incredible burps. I honestly prefer the more disgusting butt explosion, but I still tip my hat at my bro being a masterful air-bender from both ends.

“Yes, I did hear that.” I said, anticipating his question.

He laughed. “Thank you.” he answered, belching both word with care.

A couples of minutes of silence followed, with just me and Dave occasionally chatting but overall trying to be focused on our respective games. My straight bro was however not done with the “testing”.

“Are you hearing this bro?” he suddenly asked, trying not to laugh.

“No…?” I was puzzled.

“Wait. Let me just…”

I heard Dave removing his headset and as it got farther away from his head, a familiar sound got louder and louder instead, until it became unbearable.

“Are you hearing this now?” he shouted, though I could heard him over that sound.

The sound of yet another loud blast of gas, so loud it was glitching the audio. It was long and proud, dry as some of his best rips, and it just wouldn’t stop. The boss I was fighting somehow felt how distracted I was and one-shotted me with a swipe of his flaming sword but I couldn’t even hear any in-game sound ‘cause my straight gassy bro was basically farting right into my ears, albeit indirectly.

I instinctively reached for the pitched tent between my legs as the fart kept going strong and loud, so loud in fact that I had to lower the volume ‘cause my hears were starting to hurt.

After a grand total of 18 seconds, I once again heard Dave putting his headphones back on his head, wondering whether they were radioactive or melting at this point, due to all that poisonous gas.

“I gotta say… the sound quality is pretty spot-on. What headset are you using?” I joked.

Dave chuckled. “The same as yours actually. Thanks for the advice.”

We kept chatting a bit more as if he wasn’t a gassy teasing bastard but since he *is* a gassy teasing bastard I once again heard him, with no warning nor request from me, removing his headphones again and putting them (I assume) closer to the source of his underwear-clad ass.

Unsurprisingly, yet another manly, loud rip blasted through my own headphones right into my eardrums, renewing the hard-on I had only moments before. It sounded like a motorcycle passing by and I could only imagine how badly the stench was in Dave’s room. Lasting around 11 seconds, this time it got dangerously wet-ish towards the end, which I found hilarious but also made me rightfully worried about my bro maybe going a bit too far even for both of our standards.

“Dude.” I said, laughing a bit “You might want to go easy. That sounded risky.”

Dave, being the chill guy he is, just laughed about it. “Don’t worry, dude. I’m an expert.” and he ripped a short toot that was so loud I could even hear it without the microphone going straight into his butt this time.

We then kept gaming a bit more on our own. Dying over and over to that same boss made me think about how chill Dave was being -as usual- about my kink. I mean don’t get me wrong he always farted a lot while voice chatting but this time it was different, as he was now aware of my fetish. And, as always, I really appreciated that, just as I appreciated yet another thunderous blast, one that actually startled me, making me lose YET AGAIN.

“FUCK!” I blurted.

As the fart kept going, Dave moved the microphone closer to his face (but I still could hear the fart going) just to laugh at my gaming skills, completely aware however that his farts were a huge distraction on its own. He then planted the microphone once again in front of his butt and the blast went loud and proud.

“It’s just too easy.” he then chuckled, after finishing ripping that monstrous fart.

It was. I had to pause the game for a couple of minutes to calm down, the tent between my legs going harder and harder. Was Dave aware of this part as well? Of course he was, but he didn’t care. It was just a game for him, and he was constantly proving me how much of a pro gamer he was.

I hope he never gets nerfed.

End of Episode 11