#i feel so good now but horrible flashbacks to when i thought i was going to die to alcohol poisoning bc

[thedrotter]

not-yet-dead-person

silly comic of a conversation in-game i thought was too funny not to make something proper for instead of a doodle ww

(timelapse + wip images (thus silly process commentary in read more if you like artist commentary :3)

i think the sketch looks silly and goofy and funny so i find it important to share with you the mere presence of the faces i drew on it. i drew it on top of the boxes without staying inside its borders because i find my proportions can get wonky if i draw them cropped in a restricted space. and I feel trapped otherwise and i will draw BAD!!! give me spaceeeee to go wild!!!!

the head circles are there for emotional support

very low res speedpaint because truth is the canvas was much bigger than the space where my comic was placed. i didnt account when exporting my timelapse in 720px that that tiny space would look so pixelated ... but it's able to be percieved, so its okay.

(i will now comment on my process and it is not brief sorry)

usually i would try to clean up my sketches and figure out what goes on top before jumping into linework, but since there are multiple panels and drawings i chose to jump into inking right away for the sake of brevity. i just went in with a brush that uses pen pressure and drew what was needed. i added extra line thickness and contrast in areas around the face because it helps direct your eyes there more easily that way.

according to her equipment rei has a chain belt but i only remembered it existed once I was going to color, and i did not like that discovery... I chose to ignore it to maintain my peace. i already have the color palettes for these characters figured out, and i didnt really want to think about a new element at the moment www I tend to overthink those things a lot so i skipped it

the rest is rather straightforward! not that anything else wasn't, but in here i could turn my brain off and sing. linework and sketching require mumbling so i cannot turn my brain off. just block in the characters with a solid color so i can have a mask (something along those lines,) where the color can stay inside. then just color in !!!

Base colors just had slight cell shading on the skin, and for the hair i airbrush a bit of the skincolor in low opacity near the forehead... I'm not sure what it means, but i can look at the faces easier with it somehow. i like the gentle subtlety it adds even if you cant really tell. it makes things look nice.

background was just me blocking in the color of the wall and floor, shade the wall a bit, then slap a noise and free use wood texture on top. work smarter not harder ! yet it took a bit to make it look stylistically fitting with the characters, and even now i think bottom middle panel looks odd. whatever!!!

for the middle panel i thought itd be funny if the background was a solid silly and colorful one to contrast the next panel's sketchy black one. a contrast to how the word widow is seen. on that note my handwritting is not pointy. i gaslighted my hand into thinking that it was indeed pointy in that moment so i could write "not-yet dead person" in letters that didn't seem cute. my hand did not fall for it but it complied anyway

that's basically it! I'm not sure what else i could say that doesn't feel barebones because it really is that straightforward. if you're curious I used clip studio paint for this. only special brush used was for linework (a brush named Lemon Brush), the rest used were just the default. my computer gets the least credit. it was trying to convince me a 20mb file was going to nuke it all the time and hardly let me save multiple times so i do not appreciate it

[waheedawolf]

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[ousama]

watching mom mix something w everclear vs how i did it was so funny like oh thats how much you should use? it shouldn't be a third of your drink unless you havw a death wish? loving and learning.

[sleepyjuice]

flashback to the first time you tried to end things with toxic!rafe…

it was after a particularly nasty argument. rafe was trying to defend the fact that he nearly killed your male cousin at a party earlier that night because he thought it was someone trying to hit on you. in his eyes, he didn’t do anything wrong because he ‘thought he was protecting you.’ your cousin was thankfully okay, but this only isolated you even further from your family.

“rafe, we have been nonstop screaming for nearly two hours. this is not normal. i’m not doing this shit anymore. i’m done, this is over.” your throat was raw, your head hurt and you were beyond emotionally exhausted. 

“so you’re giving up? that’s great, didn’t realize i was fucking a goddamn quitter. do you know how much shit i’ve been through and didn’t give up? yet you wanna end this shit because your precious fucking feelings are hurt. fuck you dude.” he scoffed and god you had never felt smaller. tears flowing freely down your cheeks, you began to gather your stuff that was laying around rafe’s room, shoving it all into a tote bag. rafe watched you silently, arms crossed over his broad chest like a child. you sniffled once you were fully packed, taking a moment to look over at rafe whose eyes were on you, but the moment your eyes met his, he looked away.

“get the fuck out of my house.” was all he said to you, and you listened, slamming his bedroom door behind you on your way out. rafe jumped up when you slammed his door, charging for it and ready to cuss you out for ‘disrespecting his property’ but when he heard your little cries from all the way downstairs, he stopped himself.

you turned your car on, adjusting your headlights as it was pitch black outside now, taking a deep breath before shakily backing out of the driveway.

you didn’t get very far before your car was beeping loudly at you, signaling there was something right behind your car. you slammed on the brakes and put the car in park before unbuckling your seatbelt to go and see what had happened. but before you could get out of the car, your drivers side door was swinging open to reveal none other than rafe, his chest rising and falling rapidly and fresh tears staining his cheeks now too.

“rafe… what are you doing? i almost hit you!” you placed a hand over your chest as you calmed down over the initial shock of a potential accident. rafe not letting you leave though, after telling you to get the fuck out, was just another horrible thing to add to tonight’s list of shitty events.

“i know, i know. i just didn’t like how we ended our conversation upstairs, baby… will you please come back inside?” he spoke softly now, his hand reaching for your chin to softly tilt it up towards him. his touch still felt the exact same.

the worst part is, with him not behind your car anymore, you could have easily backed up and left now, but you didn’t. you took your keys out of the ignition and silently followed behind rafe as he led you back up to his bedroom.

you expected him to scream at you again, to get up in your face and berate you for wanting to leave this relationship. but he didn’t, he apologized. said something about how he had gotten into an argument with his dad before the party and that put him in a bad mood.

you held him as he cried to you, telling you about what his dad said, about how scared he was when he thought you were leaving him for another man at the party, how he can never be without you.

the night ended with rafe spooning against you as you drifted off to sleep, your body naked aside from one of rafe’s shirts, your clothes discarded as rafe had fucked you good after he finished crying, giving you four really good orgasms.

you were seconds away from sleep when you felt rafe kiss your earlobe from behind you, his warm breath tickling your soft skin as he spoke.

“don’t ever try to fuckin’ leave me again.”

“i won’t.”

[coucouatoi]

don't want to be alone | h.s.

Pairings: Harry Styles x Reader

Summary: Divorcing the biggest superstar on the planet is the hardest thing you've ever done. Almost as hard as marrying him was.

Warnings: Angst, couples therapy, a little bit of fluff, hopeful ending

A/N: I don't know why I'm feeling so full of angst... but, please enjoy!

Flashback are in italic and present day is normal text

Boxes are littered around the house. Some full and taped shut others still being stuffed with your items. It's a slow and torturous process, having to choose what to take, what to throw out and what things are a conversation waiting to happen "That's a wedding gift from my aunt" or "When have you ever used that?" or even better "I know it was a gift, but I paid for it so i'll keep it". It's like he knows exactly which buttons to press to get the fights started. Granted you might be doing the same thing... But it doesn't make him entitled to all the belongings you've ever shared.

You've managed to find all the picture albums, the ones you decided to make for sentimental value. The ones you gifted him in tender moments. The ones filled with so much love, so much hope and promises for a future together. The ones you're now highly considering throwing into a paper shredder and tossing into the nearest incinerator. The ones you won't be able to get rid of. The anniversary album you gave him on your one year, the wedding album, the honeymoon album, the many travel albums and, of course, your daughter's first album.

Little Anya, barely 9 months old just starting to babble her first words. Chubby legs working so hard to keep her standing and exploring. She can barely take 3 steps one after the other but she's a fighter. Your little girl that is now a cause for argument, no, fights. Custody battles. The true war between yourself and your husband, Harry Styles. Neither of you want to lose or call for a tie, it's not how either of you operate in conflict. That, most likely, is the reason for the downfall of your relationship.

Frustrated you put the albums back where you found them and you head to the kitchen.

Most kitchen items have been packed up, Harry had never really invested in worthwhile cutlery or electronics of any sort. You take some orange juice from the fridge and pour a glass for yourself. The fridge itself is barren, with only the essentials left... neither of you has gone to the groceries in weeks. Today is not going to be a good day.

From the rediscovery of your love-filled albums to the boxes you've spent most of the day doing, you still have one horrible thing to do.

Couples therapy, your first-ever session. You thought, well still think, that this is too far gone to save in therapy. There won't be anything new shared that you haven't already screamed in each other's faces and self-help talks aren't exactly going to do the trick. Anne, Harry's mother, insisted that your marriage doesn't only include two people anymore. Anya makes it worth trying, she is worthy of a stable home as she grows up. No matter how unstable having a superstar parent may be, divorced parents might just add to that an unruly amount. So, you've both agreed to try. Try your very best to reassemble your love no matter how shattered it has become. Love. Love hasn't manifested itself once since about your seventh month of pregnancy. Love has vanished from your husband's once warm and inviting eyes, it no longer lingers on his fingertips and doesn't even creep into the more tender moments you must share with your baby. Love feels like a complete joke to you now.

-

The waiting room is empty of other clients which is a blessing in disguise. This is the absolute last place you'd want to run into Harries. Even if the media has already been dragging you in the mud for "breaking their dear superstar's heart" and has been making all sorts of claims about you and your marriage. In the very beginning, Harry had spoken up about these articles and had gotten his team to shut some people up but he's been losing care for... well, you.

"Harry and Y/N?" you look up meeting the eyes of who you can only assume is your therapist. Without sparring your husband a glance you get up and follow her into her office. It's cosy and smells like vanilla. There's a yellow glow to the room, it bounces off her multiple frames and decorations. Very nonthreatening, immediately putting you a little more at ease. She gestures for you to take a seat on her velvet green couch and you sit down squeezing yourself onto the left armrest. Harry does the same to the right.

"Good afternoon to you both, I am Trinity Finch. Can I get either of you something to drink before I sit down?" She smiles politely as her eyes shift between both of you. You only shake your head as an answer not trusting your stomach at the moment.

"Water if it's not too much trouble, please" Harry's voice is strained, he had been at the studio all morning probably preparing a new album you aren't aware of.

Trinity nods and quickly grabs a water bottle from a small fridge she's got right behind her desk. Harry mumbles a thank you as she hands it to him. You don't realise that his hands are shaking as you're back to looking around the room. He takes a few big gulps before your therapist gets to sit in her chair.

"Today I would just like to start with a history lesson on your relationship. How it started, all important moments, how parenthood has changed your shared life and just how you two are as a couple" She starts getting things ready around her, notebook, pens, highlighters, some sticky notes and you swear that you spotted some bright childish stickers. Her long manicured nails tap against the glass of her desk a few times as the silence stretches. Neither of you taking the first step in this session. When she looks up again she doesn't look annoyed or surprised by the lack of an answer.

"Harry, how did you meet your wife?" Trinity asks him gently.

Harry seems caught by surprise to have been asked a question directly. He looks at you briefly before turning his eyes back to her.

"Um, we meet on the plane. For some reason, my private plane for that day was not available and they booked me on a regular flight. Premium ended up being full and I got an economy seat. I had the aisle and she had the middle we ended up bonding over our shared movie choice. Then I asked her out and um here we are?" He ends with a question. As if unsure if "here" is a good thing, it's definitely not but meeting has, unfortunately, brought you both here.

"And when was this?" she asks.

"April 2018" he answers quickly. She nods presumably writing it down.

"How was your relationship before marriage Y/N?" she looks at you now with kind eyes. They are big and dark. Staring right into your soul. It makes you slightly uncomfortable but at the same time you don't want her to look away she's your lifeline right now.

"It was very easy. I work remotely as a translator and an editor, so I've always been able to tag along on his travels and tours. He, um, he always insisted that he rather have me with him even if we couldn't see each other every single day. Just knowing I was near helped him..." you sigh. You don't want to shed tears this early into your session. You don't want Harry to see you cry any more than he already has over your lost relationship.

"I really loved following him around the globe" you add, looking down at your lap willing your wet eyes to dry.

"Any fighting? How did you deal with that?" Trinity is still talking to you maybe even sensing that you're about to cry. Is that what she wants from this?

"Well, yeah. I mean all couples fight, right? We fought over the same things all the time really. I wanted more affection I guess pressuring him to take some time away from the spotlight or he wanted me all to himself whenever it worked with him without thinking of my work. Our jobs were the main reason for fighting between us" Besides you, Harry scoffs before taking another sip of water. Your head turns to him

so quickly that a sharp pain forms in the back of your neck. Your posture immediately tightens, muscles locking and your breath gets heavier.

"What? You don't agree?" you question him in a much harsher tone than you were previously using. He meets your gaze and shrugs.

"I do but that's not all we fought over" he shrugs again not looking away. Is he trying to pick a fight right now? Here of all places?

"Then what? What am I missing?" you prepare yourself for the worst. Ready to feel like absolute shit at anything he might say.

"Your constant jealousy was a contender for the most appearances in our fights" his entire expression is accusatory but he does this thing with his posture. Gets all soft and somewhat blazé making you feel inferior and so incredibly small.

You want to storm out. Call Anne to apologise that it couldn't work out and immediately sign the divorce papers that are permanently placed right on your dining table.

Not wanting to fuel this energy taking over him right now you shrug as well before facing Trinity again. She's watching both of you like a hawk, processing the way you react to conflict with each other. Making mental notes as well as some physical ones all while hostility happens between her clients.

"We'll move on from this for now. Harry, how was the wedding? How did married life change your bond?" this seemingly calms his overgrown ego. His face is neutral again but there's a softness to it now, recalling the happy days.

"We had an Italy wedding. We, I love Italy. I flew everyone out, our families and friends, and then we stayed there for a month more for our honeymoon. The wedding itself was... amazing. We kept it small. Intimate. With my life it's always been hard to have that so, it was important to us" he sounds blissful towards the last part. Probably back there now in his mind. Ah, the good old days as they say.

"I don't think married life changed us much. We were living together before that and we'd been planning it since we got together practically" he stops talking again to take another sip of water. You look at the lady in front of you again and as she begins to open her mouth to probably question him more Harry starts talking again.

"I guess tension started about a year in. The media wasn't kind to her. They made up cheating rumours on both sides and manipulated things to make them seem like something else. Someone even showed up at our old house while I was out" he took a deep breath, cracking some of his knuckles at the same time, "We were always on edge around each other. Throwing these rumours at one another just to I don't know, get a reaction? Plus, we were stuck at home because of Covid and my tour was postponed. It was a real shit show" he laughs bitterly and you nod along to what he was saying. That was just a terrible time. For everyone.

"Then I got to go on tour, Y/N didn't follow along for all of it but she was there most of the beginning. It wasn't the same as before. There was this distance that just never got better. And then she got pregnant" he almost sounds exhausted. Maybe he is, you're not sure how much he's slept lately.

-

Shit. Fuck. This can't be happening now. Shit! The word "Pregnant" seems to be mocking you as you look down at it. Mocking the fact that you and Harry have not seriously spoken in two days and that you're flying back home tomorrow. Mockingly reminding you that this can only make things worse right now.

"Y/N, come on the car is waiting downstairs" your husband's voice is weak through the thick hotel bathroom door. He's performing in Toronto tonight. The second day, the last day before he flies to New York and you go back to London.

You walk out of the bathroom, straight past Harry, not wanting him to read your face and figure out that something is terribly wrong. You slip into your shoes for the night and take a deep breath, no scratch that, a huge breath. Willing your facial expression to cooperate before you turn to him and smile.

"Let's go superstar!" he smiles back and walks over to you. Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his mouth so he can plant a kiss on the back of it.

"We just might have to cancel tonight if you look this good" his free hand wraps around you tightly glueing you to his body. You know he doesn't mean it but you pretend to consider it nonetheless.

"Mh what about all your adoring fans? Won't they be so utterly crushed?" you tease against his lips. He smiles wickedly before slowly nodding.

"I do have quite the engagement this evening... how about I make it up to you after?" he presses soft kisses to the sides of your face. Framing it.

"That's a pretty good offer, I just might have to tak-"

"HARRY STYLES GET YOUR ASS OUT OF YOUR HOTEL ROOM!!" Jeff's voice is full of annoyance as it cuts you off. Rude.

You laugh before getting pulled out of the room by your husband. The small plastic stick forgotten on the washroom counter for now.

You get a harsh reminder tho when you're back at the hotel after yet another amazing concert. You're laying on the bed completely stretched out and now only dressed in your underwear. Harry's currently using the washroom to try and get some of the remaining glitter off his face when he finds the secret you've kept all evening.

"Y/N, what's this?" his voice is so shaky that you barely even understood what he asked you. However, when you look up your brain catches up. He's in his boxers, left hand in his hair and right hand holding the test like it's made of glass as he looks at it as if it's going to explode. Fuck.

"No chance that you suddenly lost the ability to read?" you try and lighten the suddenly very heavy mood in the room. It fails.

"You're pregnant. How, I mean no I know how. Fuck, you're pregnant" he looks up at you panicked.

"We don't have to keep it" is the first thing out of your mouth. Probably as a panic response to his reaction. Not wanting this to turn into another fight.

"What?! Why wouldn't we, you don't want, I um" he takes a second. He's just breathing heavily while looking at you desperately. "You don't want to keep it?" he breathes out.

"You do?" is all you answer. You stand slowly, finding the clothes you just took off to put them back on. Whatever mood you were in is gone you're now filled with anxiety and a deep fear.

"You leave tomorrow... We won't see each other for what 3 months? In Mexico?" he hasn't moved an inch. Feet seemingly glued to the floor and limbs were frozen.

-

Pregnancy. One of the worst and best times of your life. Your gorgeous baby girl came out of all the pain you suffered. She gave a new meaning to the way you live, made you forget about all the physical pain you endured and...

"Why do you say it in that way? Like you still dread what the pregnancy brought" Trinity's voice almost startles you. You'd been so lost in your thoughts that you'd almost forgotten where you were.

"I don't! I love Anya" his voice is stern.

"What about your wife? What happened during the pregnancy?" she's digging. Wants to find the right buttons to push.

Harry stammers, but no answer seems to satisfy him. His hands are squeezed under his things, his right leg bouncing and his eyes avoiding either of you.

"We didn't plan her, I was right in the middle of my tour. We, um, we weren't doing very good and she was about to go home" he looks at you suddenly surprising you when he meets your eyes. You can't read him, can't understand what he's feeling. You haven't been able to read him in months.

"She- You, Y/N, she got really sick in February the seven-month mark. I was in Australia and I couldn't be there. It really strained us, we fought all the time over the phone and in person. I guess that's really when we went downhill" his jaw tenses when he looks away from you. Looks like he's not happy to have to have shared this with the room.

"Okay, thank you, Harry. I think now's a great time to take a breather. I'll meet both of you individually when we come back. So, see you both here in 20 minutes?" Trinity smiles at both of you and keeps smiling until you both walk out.

-

Harry doesn't come back. You wait 45 minutes in Trinity's office looking like an idiot. She dismisses you with a look of pity on her face before scheduling another appointment 5 days later, lots of work to do you assume. You rush out of the building humiliation creeping into every inch of your body. How could he do this on the first day? It was going fairly well, well you think so anyway... did he give up on your relationship right then and there?

As you make your way to your car you see him. Harry is pacing back and forth in front of his car as he seemingly argues on the phone. His free hand waves erratically in front of him, gesturing like mad for someone who can't even see him. So this is what he's been doing? Arguing over the phone while you sat in a therapist's office waiting to try and work on your ever-crumbling marriage. You scoff before turning away from him and to your car. But nothing seems to be on your side today as your husband hears you and immediately calls out to you.

"Y/N! Why are you leaving?" you hear him walk towards you, the clacking of his shoes getting closer to you but you ignore him and walk away faster.

You're completely focused on your black Subaru, the "You're so Golden" sticker catching your eye and making you more pissed off. Something that was put there because you loved the song, because of how beautiful your husband's voice is in the song but now all you want to do is rip it right off. So, that's what you do.

Your nails claw at the edges of it desperately. You don't want any reminders of Harry on your car, you don't want to think of him while putting the groceries away, while walking around the car after putting Anya in her car seat and you don't want to see it in your rearview mirror anymore. The top corner lifts as you're pulling at it giving you the perfect leverage to rip it right off. You throw it to the ground right before turning around to stare daggers into Harry's eyes.

"45 minutes, Harry. I sat there 45 minutes with our therapist looking at me like a beaten dog!" you hiss at him. He is now only about 2 or 3 feet away from you. His eyes are wide, in shock you guess, as he looks at the sticker. "What could you have possibly been doing for more than an hour that made you forget what we were here for?" you're sure you sound desperate right now. Your head is all over the place and your heart feels like it might explode out of your chest.

"An hour? I, no, that couldn't have been more than-"

"You can go back up and ask her if you want because I really really don't want to be around you right now" and now you're crying. Fuck. Why are you crying now? You need to leave.

While rummaging in your bag for your keys Harry grabs your arm. Well maybe not grabs, he just places his hand on you, resting it there delicately. If you weren't so aware of every single inch of your body right now you wouldn't have noticed. No matter how delicate the touch is supposed to be you flinch out of it aggressively.

"I'm, I'm so sorry Y/N. That was my mother, she, fuck" he sighs and runs a hand in his hair gripping it tightly. "She wants us to go up... she's rented a lake house or something I guess" his voice is so soft, shy even.

"Us? You mean you and Anya?" god you hope so.

"I'm so sorry" is all he answers.

-

Anne Twist is a very difficult woman to say no to. Actually, it's impossible to say no to her. In the many years you've known her, she's always been able to find a way to make you say yes. Always in a good way. She loves you, she has told you that countless times, and you love her but now that you're... the way you are with her son you don't know where you stand. Yet, she has still found a way to get you to agree to something you would have much rather not have gone to. You're in a small townhouse almost 4 hours away from your home in London with your mother-in-law, your daughter and your soon-to-be ex-husband. What has your life come to?

Anya is sitting in her high chair passionately eating banana slices as you watch her. She's already gobbled up the strawberries and pita bread slices she also had for her snack. She's such a good eater always so ready to try new things and taste whatever the adults around her eat. Especially the sweet treats her dad sneaks her.

"Do you want to go take a dip after huh? We should enjoy the water my love" you coo at her as she takes her final bite of food. She smiles at you like she understood what you asked and you chuckle wiping her chubby cheeks and hands. She'll be able to float around in the water for a little bit with you before you put her down for a nap. The steps of your morning are perfectly planned so that you can have your solo Zoom session with Trinity.

There is a small river behind the house you're staying in. The water goes up to just above your breast and it's the perfect warmth at this time of day. You've made your way down to it and are now setting up Anya's towel for when she'll be too tired to entertain you and ready for her mid-day snooze. She's currently lying right by you looking up at the sky with such curiosity, probably trying to figure out what the hell clouds are.

"You're so curious my love!" you shake her gently as you smile widely. "What do you see up there?" as you look up to join her sky-gazing you spot Harry making his way to the river as well. He's only got very short grey swimming trunks on meaning his entire chest, thighs, calves, and arms are out for the whole world to see. Maybe that's an exaggerated statement as you're the only one looking right now. You want to scold yourself for staring, you really really do but he's just so... so captivating and very enjoyable to look at no matter how much you resent him at the moment.

"Mind if I join you ladies?" his voice is more cheerful than when you heard it last. Must be because he's actually speaking to and looking at Anya.

However, when you don't answer his question he looks up at you. Expression now closed off again, how it's always been for the past few months. You smile politely and nod before turning your back to both of them so you can take your robe off. Your swimsuit isn't anything special; simple black one-piece that's high on the hips and low on your back. You think it looks pretty good on you but now you feel very aware of the amount of skin you're showing. You decide to just get in the water hoping its dark colour hides you. Hides away the skin your husband might be looking at.

"Looks like mummy is in a hurry, we should join her. What do you think sweetheart?" Harry picks your baby up and makes his way into the water. He holds her tightly to his chest as he climbs in, just in case he slips on the stones he uses as stairs. Once your daughter's chubby limbs meet the water her mouth forms into an adorable "O" shape. It's the second time Anya's been in the water now so she must still be unsure about this feeling. Harry turns her so that her front faces you and her back is against him. She smiles when she spots you reaching her arms out quickly which splashes some water around. She looks at you with a shocked expression and does it again with a giggle now.

"You little troublemaker! Trying to splash me!" you tease her sending some water her way. She answers with a sweet giggle and shakes her arms around as fast as she possibly can.

"Mh, my jokester gene is strong in her" Harry's voice is laced with pride. You playfully roll your eyes at him and hum affirmatively.

"And her love for singing too" you add remembering so many moments where she hums to any song playing. Her favourite thing to do is to harmonise with her father. His deep voice always gets her attention, always gets her to mumble and hum along with her own lyrics.

"Oh yes, she's the next big thing this one" he affirms kissing the top of her small head affectionately.

It's in moments like these that you tend to forget how bad it is between you. How many horrible things you've shouted at each other not caring how deep your words could cut. The accusations, the insults, the taunts and even the lies still weigh heavy on both of you. You like these softer moments, where you're reminded of how much love you both had for each other. Have? Had? You don't know anything about your feelings anymore, they are much too complicated to understand...

All three of you stay in the river for about an hour more before Anya starts yawning and fussing. When you exit the water you're quick to slip your robe back on still overly aware. Harry wraps the fluffy towel you had gotten ready around your baby. Her head rests in the crook of his neck, her eyelids already heavy as she blinks slowly. You all walk back to the house together silently. Might it be to keep the sleepy baby calm or to keep the peaceful aura around you and your husband, you don't know.

Harry insists that he will put the sleepy girl to bed and that you should take a shower first. After all, you have the first private sessions with your therapist. The mention of her does make the air in the townhouse tense again but Anne appears immediately to kiss Anya before she naps. You use that moment to sneak into your shared room with Harry. Luckily, it has two single beds so you don't have to share with him.

Signing deeply you rid yourself of the now damp robe you had on. Another blessing in disguise, this room has an en suite bathroom so you'll be able to jump right into the shower. Before that you do want to set up your laptop for the video call, you want to be as ready as you possibly can be. You grab your device from your backpack and make your way to the small desk in the corner of the room. There's a bunch of papers scattered around it, one glance at them and you immediately know what they are.

Lyrics. Drafts of songs and melodies written by your rockstar husband. You don't mean to read any of the words you really don't but as soon as you spot your name at the top of one of the pages you're doomed. You put your laptop down on Harry's bed which is right next to the desk and reach for that exact paper.

The words you read are full of longing, pain, sadness and fear. They mourn love, they are mourning your love. You pick up another sheet of paper, this one has no title but there are so many lines written. This one is reeks of self-hatred, of shame and guilt... it shakes the weak barriers you've built around your heart. All of the lyrics you read on different papers revolve around the same emotions. These are all about your relationship. About the death of it. About his desire to turn around. You don't realise you're crying until a tear falls onto the paper you hold. The ink bleeds into itself where it's been wet blurring the words slightly. You quickly wipe your face and put the papers down. You shouldn't be looking at these, you're invading his privacy.

"Thought you were showering" Harry's voice startles you out of the chair. You meet the floor with a loud thud. Your tear-filled eyes meet his sharp ones. Scrambling up to your feet you grab your laptop ready to explain, ready to apologise over and over again.

"At least tell me what you think" he sighs walking into the bedroom and shutting the door behind himself. This shocks you. What does he mean? He, he's not mad? Isn't disappointed that you invaded his creative space? Your mouth opens and closes a few times unsure what you should answer.

"I'm sorry" is all you're able to get out. Your brain is blank in absolute fear but tears keep falling from your eyes.

"I should be apologising... you, you weren't supposed to see those" he walks in your direction slowly, testing the waters of how close you'll let him get. He's closer than arm's reach when you flinch backwards slightly and he stops immediately.

"I was going to ask you for your permission before making any of those full songs but you know music is how I cope" he whispers now that he's so close to you. Silence takes over the room again, stretching out for too long. Your eyes somehow keep producing tears as you try and speak. Hopelessly searching for words to say.

"Do you really miss us? You miss me?" is what you come up with, your voice is so shaky that you're on the verge of sobbing uncontrollably.

This shocks Harry in place, seemingly not prepared for that kind of questioning from you. His mouth gapes and his eyes grow wide. This time you do see his hands start shaking. You're not entirely sure what this emotion is.

"Of course I do. Did you not think so?" while still whispering he reaches out to hold you but stops himself hands falling at his sides.

"Yo- Harry, you asked for the divorce. How was I supposed to know you miss me?" your voice breaks. You don't understand, why is this happening now, why is he saying these things?

-

"We should just get a divorce" Harry snaps at you as he fights back tears. Your expression immediately closes up, your body reacting before your thoughts and words do. Protecting you from what he just said, building walls around you and your heart as quickly as possible.

"Fine" you spit out as you turn away from him and walk straight out of your bedroom. If that's what he wants then so be it. You won't beg for anything now that he's made his decision.

-

"I know, okay? I know that I asked for it and that it's the reason why you don't talk to me anymore. Well, you do but not really" he sighs and sits down on his bed, damn swim trunks wetting the bed "We talk about Anya and when we're not we are yelling at each other... so when was I supposed to tell you that I missed you? That I regretted asking for the divorce..." he looks at you with a guilty expression, all his emotions are coming up at once.

"Why did you ask for it?" you ask him sitting back on the desk chair with your laptop still in your hands.

"I got in my head. You were saying we should take some time for ourselves maybe live apart... with everything that kept being said about us, I got so scared" he takes your laptop out of your grip and puts it down next to him.

"I thought you were going to fight me on it..." he adds as he grabs your hands tenderly. Like he's afraid you'll break.

You shake your head in disbelief not sure what to say. Your thoughts are all over the place, what should you make of this?

"It broke my heart" When did his face get so close to yours? You should really move away. You can't fall back into him, you can't let yourself do that. So you pull away from him roughly, your hands tugging out of his hold, face moving to the side, a sob making its way out of you as your back meets the chair-back.

When you meet Harry's eyes you can see the pain, the hurt, in them. They are brimming with tears that are so close to spilling out.

"Are we... are we too broken?" his voice has dropped to a whisper. He sounds so sad and scared.

"I'm worried" You take in a few breaths before you speak again, "What if we just end up hurting each other again? What if we can't go back?" you choke out the last few words. Tears spill endlessly out of your eyes and sobs rack your entire body.

It feels like you're running out of air and the little bits you get in are painful. Your eyes burn as you cry and your hands are shaking like crazy.

Harry might be answering or trying to communicate but nothing is making its way past your meltdown. What does make it through is the feeling of his arms around you. Him pulling you against his chest tightly, immediately rubbing your back as soothingly as he can. Your hands are grabbing his still bare skin desperately, wanting to anchor yourself in any way you can. Your face rests on his peck, right above his heart, the frantic beating bouncing around your head.

"Breathe, you have to breathe love" he speaks delicately in your ear, breaking through the barrier your body has put up.

"I'm- I'm, I can't... Harry I can't" your clawing at him almost trying to get under his skin, someplace you might be able to understand everything that's going through his mind.

He wiggles around a little before laying you both down as he keeps reassuring and encouraging you. He drags you on top of him your face now pressed up against the juncture of his neck. Your left-hand makes its way into his hair, pulling at it as softly as you can manage. Harry's hands run up and down your back, your arms, and your neck and he even pets your hair delicately. He's always known how to best calm you down... how to bring you back down to earth and out of the panic attacks you sometimes get when you're overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry" he repeats that over and over with a pained desperation. Harry's scared shitless too. He doesn't know how things will go with your relationship. He can't guarantee that you won't end up actually wanting a divorce one day... But he can love you. He has and will keep loving you. He hopes it'll be enough to save your marriage. He'll work incredibly hard every single day to prove his love for you... if you let him back in he won't ever let you go. He'll leave it all up to you. Your little family is all he needs, he'll spend the rest of his life proving that to you if that's what it takes.

[ssparksflyy]

hello! can i request jason grace or leo valdez x child of hypnos reader ? (gn) 🫶🏻🫶🏻

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

jason grace dating hcs! ٩(ˊ〇ˋ*) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

pairing: jason grace x child of hypnos!reader warning(s): none!! js fluff :) a/n: i love children of hypnos, u stay sleepy ! also me writing this running off five hours of sleep ( the most ive gotten this week ) yikes..

mr gets up willingly at six am nd his sleepy lover ♡

there are times where u literally have to beg jason to go back to bed cause omfg what r u doing. its six am. no u r not going to go run. no the early bird doesnt get the worm. go. back. to. sleep.

hey nd most times it works cause the thought of holding u close and a sweet sweet dream is enough to get him back in bed

but other times noooo he goes running 🙄

what is bro running from? sleep???

omg but then literally knocks tf out by like nine

one of the times when you had a sleepover planned together

you were running a little late cause ur cabin's ac wasnt working nd everybody was tweaking out

so you had to stay behind and help fix it

by the time you finished and ran over to cabin one , jason was already passed out nd lightly snoring 😭

mind you it was like 9:15 pm

its ok tho u were tired asf too , who knew fixing the ac could be so hard ??

he apologized sm in the morning tho

but u were like its okay el oh el

he cant help it bro he needs his sleep almost as much as he needs you

its better that he falls asleep early than stay up super late tho

cause like when he was helping plan out the new cabins, it was impossible to convince him to go to sleep

he wouldnt stop working nd u were like 😠 fool 😠 go to sleep 😠

nd he was like no thank youuuuu ♡

so you used your powers on him cause he hadNT SLEPT IN DAYS

u were both mad at each other in the morning and things were painfully tense

but you sat down nd talked it out like mature ppl ♡

he srsly hates fighting, he already does it with monsters nd shit so much, he doesnt want to do it w you :(

he apologized for being ignorant and promised he would be better about taking care of himself instead of burying himself in work

you apologized for using your powers on him without saying anything first, and promised you wouldn't do it again ( unless its necessary ) :))

to this day, youve still kept your promises ♡

jason is SUCH a sucker for when you touch his hair

the most relaxing thing everrrrr

i will die on this hill ppl dont play w me

his hair would be soft asf bro

best believe he uses a good conditioner !!

he lets u play w his hair nd do wtv u want with it cause like ~relaxing~

so best believe you have a 0.5 of him with all his hair tied up and looking like a palm tree

0.5s of jason would literally be flawless asf but scary

cause ur like omg by bf is so cute- god DAMN somebody get this man contacts

he looks amazing but THEM EYES

terrifying. staring into ur soul.

theyre cute tho ♡♡

you OBVI have matching pjs

i cannot decide if jason would go to sleep w just pj pants nd no shirt or if would have light blue and white striped pants, a button up shirt, slippers, a cap with a little fuzzy ball at the end, nd a candlestick

jason grace is a SPECTRUM OKAY

but he buys u so many plushies ugh

you own so many jellycats im so jealous

he helps u name them nd their literally ur children like

u have matching build-a-bears !!!

the voice memos are messages u made for each other :(

his to u is a quick ramble about how much he loves u but gets cut off cause he only had 20 seconds ♡♡

nd u get matching outfits for them!!

urs is named 'sleepy' and his is named 'sparky' ♡

i feel like jason gets some real bad nightmares

like yea every demigod does but he gets his more frequently nd their more graphic bcs of what he's seen and gone through :(

most of the time they arent even messages from his dad, theyre just really bad flashbacks of horrible times in his life

but ever since you started spending ur nights together, theyve toned down so much

now he even gets dreams abt your future together sometimes :((

he really wants to tell you about those dreams cause they feel so real but hes scared that youll think its weird or get uncomfortable

little does he know you get those exact same dreams ♡

and on the same nights as he does...

CAUSE UR MEETING IN UR DREAMSSSSSSS

nd thats how ur dad shows his love to you !

zeus doesnt gaf. wtv we dont like him anyway

i mean sometimes hes like erm gtfo my cabin 🤨

but doesn't actually do anything

u literally dont care for anybody's thoughts tho cause you bagged a baddie as sleepy as you ♡

an two: ik i didnt talk abt sleepovers together but like ive got a jason fic called sleepover (thats also gn!) if u wanted to read that :DD but i hoped u enjoyed and have a good day/night!! GO STREAM THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT.

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson ♡

[wandanatsgf]

Lovers, Vampires, Strangers Part 1

Pairing: Vampire!Wanda Maximoff x Vampire!Reader

Word Count: 1182

Summary: This story starts in the year 1850. You and your girlfriend Wanda are happy together. You have everything you could ever want, until she secretly turns you into a vampire. After a horrible accident, you leave her and that life behind. Now 173 years later, she's come to ask you for help.

Author's note: I tried a different style of writing, I hope you like it! This was originally posted on my old account. It was going to be a multiple part fic, but I never finished it. I am hoping to finally finish it now!

Part 2

Part 1: 1850, the Shittiest Year of My Life

This story starts in the spring of 1850. The year my life went to shit. AKA the year Wanda came into my life and ruined everything. Now I know what you’re saying dear reader, how am I alive if I was born so long ago? Well the truth is, I am a vampire, and no not the kind from twilight. We don’t sparkle in the sun. In fact we’re the same as you, except we have to eat blood to live and we have a few extra supernatural abilities.

Anyway, back to the story. The year is 1850 and I am eighteen years old. At this time I am living in France in my parent’s manor with my two siblings and best friend, Sebastian. I was normal then. I was human. My life was like any other person of nobility. It was full of balls and glitz and glamor. I would dance and be merry every night with my best friend by my side. I thought nothing could go wrong, and then it did.

I remember the exact day things changed. It was April 12, 1850. That was the day Wanda entered my life. She was an orphan, or so she said, and my parents took her in. She was the same age as me and she was beautiful. She had long brown hair and piercing green eyes that could stare into your soul. She was kind and elegant. She was perfect. Little did I know how dangerous she truly was. I was blinded by love and by infatuation. I knew not of the monster that lurked in her soul, the same monster that she made me. But I am getting ahead of myself. 

Before I knew who she truly was, I spent all of my hours with Wanda. She slowly became my confidant, my lover and then my everything. Sure it was considered wrong back then, but in my heart I knew something that felt this good couldn’t be anything but right. 

We would hang out by the mangroves near my house, making sure no one saw us. I would kiss her like my life depended on it and she me. I loved her with every fiber of my being, but that love burned out when she killed me.

She had asked me one day, “Don’t you want to be together forever Y/n.”

“Of course I do,” I had said, oblivious about what was to come. “That is all I wish for. I want to be with you forever and live in a world where we don’t have to hide.”

Wanda had smiled at this and handed me herbal tea we had brought with us. I took a sip and placed the glass down. Wanda had placed her hands around my neck, like she was going to kiss me and I leaned in. Her face gets within inches of mine, and then she snaps my neck. 

I awoke a monster, but I didn’t know that then. I thought I had just fallen asleep in the arms of my girlfriend. I didn’t know I was a vampire, something that defies all the laws of human nature. I was something that shouldn’t exist, yet here I am now, writing all of this down. 

The night I turned was the night of a ball in my honor. I foolishly attended, not knowing what it would lead to. The feelings that began to bloom within me were terrifying yet exhilarating. The power was tasty, and I was hungry. I was blinded by this and…well I’ll flashback and let you read what happened for yourselves.

 “Can you fasten this around my neck?” I ask Wanda as she helps me get ready. I was putting on the finishing touches to my outfit, but I couldn’t manage to get this clasp.

“Of course Y/n.” She fastens the intricate gold and gem necklace around my neck.

“You look beautiful,” she says. My face heats up at the compliment.

“Thank you,” I look down, unable to look her in the eyes and accept the compliment.

“Hey I mean it. You’ll be the prettiest girl there tonight.” She places a soft kiss on my lips and when we break apart I can't contain my happiness. 

“Now let’s go to that party and have the time of our lives,” Wanda says. I place my hand in hers and we walk that way until we reach the ballroom. We break apart when we enter the room and suddenly my senses are overwhelmed. All I can hear are the sounds of people’s heartbeats. All I can feel is hunger. My senses were overwhelmed and I didn’t understand what I was doing until it was over.

I walked up to Sebastian, my dearest friend. I didn’t mean to do it. He was my bestest friend and I just thought being around him might calm me. However the closer I got, the more tempting the feeling to rip his throat out was. I couldn’t resist it anymore and I sunk my new found fangs into his neck. He didn’t even have the chance to scream before he was dead.

People around us began to scream and I took a step back and realized what I had done.

“Sebastian,” I breathed out, coming out of the trance I had been in. People rushed past us, desperate to get away from the monster until it was only me, Wanda, and Sebastian left. 

“Please no no no,” I cried. I shook his body, begging for him to wake up. All I could think was, “What have I done?”

“Come on please,” I beg. I lightly slap his face and I get nothing. Not even so much as a twitch. 

“He’s not going to wake up dear. He’s dead,” comes a voice from behind me. I jump up and charge at this figure.

“This is your fault. You did this to me,” I screamed in the brunette’s face. I had her pushed up against the wall. “It was that tea wasn’t it? You did something to me, you changed me,” I cry.

“I’m sorry but I did this so we could be together forever.” She changes our position so that I am now the one pushed up against the wall.

“I did this because I love you.”

“You made me a monster,” I cried out. I could feel tears falling.

“No I didn’t honey. You’re beautiful like this.”

She gently caresses my face with her fingertips and I wince at the contact. I could feel fangs protruding where my teeth had once been. I could feel my veins popping out around my eyes and I could feel the blood that covered my face. It was sticky and wet and it belonged to my best friend. I was disgusted with myself and I could hardly breathe. I ran out of that house, with speed I didn’t know I had but that I now possessed. I left that house, that life, in the dust. I never saw Wanda again, until now. 173 years later here she is at my doorstep and I want nothing to do with her.

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Chapter 2

Finnick x Reader

Series Masterlist Link

I had some down time while my flight was delayed so here’s another chapter! Hopefully chapter 3 will come out in a few days but we shall see. Thanks for all the love on the first chapter!

Content warnings - flashback to prostitution assault and detailed descriptions of killing/death

You weren’t always known as a feral victor. Sure, some of your kills in the arena were a bit much, but it’s not uncommon to see that behavior in the games. It is a fight to the death after all. What is uncommon, however, is that literal fight continuing afterwards.

After the incident with the first doctor, which was kept quiet from the public at first, Snow believed you would still be of use from him. He thought the capital doctors could “fix you” and make you “civilized” again. He’s lucky he always had guards with him, or he would have ended up on your list.

Finnick, your mentor, thought that your post-arena violence might save you from his fate in the capital. He tried to convince Snow that it wasn’t a good idea to assign you clients, that you were unpredictable and things could go very wrong. Snow thought it would be fine.

“Sure she may put up a fight,” he told Finnick, “most of them do. But, I don’t think that should be an issue for her client. He could break her quite easily if he needed to.”

And break you he did, just not physically. It was you who did the physical breaking.

You didn’t mean to kill him, nor anyone else outside the arena, but his grotesque hands roaming your body triggered something deep inside you; a primal instinct you first felt in the arena. It was kill or be killed.

You tried to push through it. Snow had warned you what would happen to your family if you didn’t comply. But laying there being completely violated by this capital man broke the only pieces of you that had survived the arena. Your mind had convinced itself that you were out of options.

The man’s avox had phoned the police when she heard him scream, but they weren’t fast enough. He was so engrossed in his actions that he didn’t notice the way your eyes turned cold, or the way you stopped protesting.

Less than two minutes later, he was dead. You still can’t shake the feeling of his eyeballs under your nails, or the sound he made as you crushed his esophagus. The worst part was having to unattach yourself from him when the ordeal was over. You didn’t even protest when the police entered. They sedated you and carried you off, away from the scene of your crime.

Did you mean to kill him? No.

Do you regret it? Absolutely not.

The only thing you regret is coming out of that arena alive; but what’s done is done and there’s no going back.

Your prep team won’t go anywhere near you for the parade, which is quite the dilemma. How the hell were you supposed to get ready? You’re surprised a stylist designed something for you at all, or that they’re even letting you participate for that matter.

Apparently, your stylist didn’t design the outfit. He said that his mentor, Tigress, wanted to design something for you specifically but she is banned from the games so he volunteered to bring her design to you. He’s the first person in the capital who doesn’t seem terrified to be in your presence, but the peacekeepers still won’t let him near.

You’re forced to dress in front of the peacekeepers. They uncuff you at least but it’s still uncomfortable. You would strangle them all right now but unfortunately there would be consequences.

Snow paid you a visit last night. He told you exactly what would happen if you went “feral” before the games.

“We wouldn’t want Mr. Odair’s pedestal to malfunction while he was standing on it, would we?” he stated. “Or for Mrs. Flanagan to come down with a horrible illness. That would be quite unfortunate.”

You had to do everything possible to keep yourself under control, but even that could only help so much. The rage you felt inside was growing and it wasn’t calming down anytime soon.

“Why isn’t it ready yet?” the shrill voice of Linessa calls to the peacekeepers outside of your room.

“No prep team would touch her,” they tell her. “The tribute is getting herself dressed.”

“Move,” Finnick states as he pushes past the group to enter your room. You’re mostly clothed but are having issues with zipping up the back of your gown.

It’s a beautiful blue gown that hugs your skin before flaring out just below your hips. The stylist explained it as, “The image of a silent siren. A deeply misunderstood mythological creature of the ocean.”

Finnick slowly approaches, making sure you can see his hands.

“Can I help get you ready?” he asks. “We need to be out there soon.”

You nod and turn so he can zip up your dress. The feeling of his hands on your back causes you to tense up but you grit your teeth and remind yourself it’s just Finnick.

Practically grinding your teeth dull, you let Finnick do a simple makeup look on you to match your outfit. You wish you could give him an outfit instead of a net but neither you nor Mags have a say in the matter. You especially don’t.

Finnick is especially careful not to touch the scar that runs down the side of your face. You got it during your games and the capital doctors refused to polish it off after you killed one with a scalpel for taking your temperature. You wish you had the temperament to let him cover it up with the makeup but you know it would set you off.

When he’s done, the peacekeepers come and recuff your wrists but leave your feet free so you don’t trip in the dress.

“She doesn’t need those,” Finnick tells them.

“I’m sorry Mr. Odair but these are direct orders from Snow,” they state.

“Will you remove them before the parade?” he asks.

“No,” they state. Mags whispers something to Finnick and he nods in understanding before approaching you slowly.

“Hey,” he calmly states. “I need to go talk to some people before the parade. Stay with Mags and I’ll come get you before we start.” You nod and he leaves.

The peacekeepers force you and Mags out to where the chariots are, but make you stay along the edge of the stables where they can keep an eye on you. They wouldn’t want any of the “excitement” to start before the games begin.

You can see Finnick talking to Katniss, last year’s victor. You don’t really know any of the other victors besides Finnick and Mags. They know all about you, of course, but none of them care enough to get to know you. The only one who has ever spoken to you (over the phone of course) is Johanna Mason of District 7. She’s pretty close with Finnick and they talk all the time. You would be jealous if Finnick didn’t practically live at your place and spend all his time with you. Plus Johanna hates people.

“Hey feisty!” you hear Johanna call as she approaches you. Finnick has shown you pictures of her but outside of that and watching her games you had only ever heard her voice. The peacekeepers move to block her but one glare from her sends them away. “How’s life outside of your cell?”

You give her a thumbs down and she laughs in response, catching the attention of the other tributes.

“Well I give it double thumbs down,” she states.

“Johanna!” you hear a male yell. “Get your ass over here.”

“Ugh Blight’s calling,” Johanna groans. “See ya later feisty!”

You think you’re done socializing for today when you’re approached by a young blond boy. He doesn’t protest when the peacekeepers keep him five feet away.

“Hi y/n,” he states. “I’m Peeta. I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

You give him a blank stare as you study him. Something about you feels like he’s harmless, but you can’t be too sure.

“Ah Melark,” Gloss booms as he approaches the boy. “Don’t take it personal. Feral doesn’t talk.”

It’s clear these two haven’t met before as Peeta looks a bit scared of the career. You’d met Gloss once before your games as he was your allies’ mentor, but you haven’t spoken in years. Him and Finnick aren’t close.

“Oh, uh I’m sorry,” Peeta stutters. He glances over his shoulder to see Finnick flirting with Katniss. “Uh nice to meet you I guess.”

Peeta looks harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Katniss, on the other hand, looks like trouble.

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[moments-on-film]

Moments on Film: Carmy and Sydney’s Michelin Star Talk

This is another one of my favorite scenes between Carmen and Sydney. It’s in S2E2, and they are at his apartment, working on the new menu.

Sydney asks Carmy about the moment he got the 3 Michelin stars call when was the CDC at the restaurant in New York, the highest honor for any restaurant in the world.

What struck me about this scene, apart from the playful banter into this moment, was how Carmy immediately gushes out his answer after Sydney asks him this question. She’s genuinely interested and, literally, a little star struck, and he in turn seems like he’s so unburdened to finally be able to talk to someone about this major moment in his life.

We know that when Carmy was the CDC at Eleven Madison Park, he was horribly abused on a daily basis by his boss, the Executive Chef. Carmy had the completely arduous task of leading the kitchen while under extreme duress, and to such a degree that he was able to retain the highest honor in his industry. The stress of it all we know, made him physically sick, everyday. We also know at this time, Michael wasn’t speaking to him, and it’s unlikely his family understood what he was going through in this moment. He was going through monumental highs and lows, without any support, and completely alone.

He probably has never had the chance to process it or think about it, let alone talk about it.

When Carmy comes home for Christmas in the flashback of S2E6, we see almost everyone, and especially his mom, give him guff and make fun of him for being a “big time chef….too fancy for us.” Carmy was in Copenhagen at the time and not in New York yet, but he’s going through exciting, transformative, life changing moments which no one in his family bothers to ask about or talk to him about. It must have been incredibly painful to not only not be able to share and talk about it, but to be made fun of for it, instead of being told, “good job”, which, as he shares in S1E8, was one thing he wanted to hear from his brother, so badly.

Sydney asks him about his experience because she genuinely wants to listen to him speak about this moment. She doesn’t just ask what it was like, she asks him, “how did it feel?” He immediately pours out his answer in such a way that made me think, my gosh, probably no one has ever asked him about it before. It’s terribly sad that until now no one has cared enough to show interest, and it must have made him feel so lonely to not be able to express himself or what this moment meant to him.

Now Sydney is here though, and she allows him the space in this moment to be vulnerable and heard. His answer perhaps isn’t what she thought it would be, but it’s honest.

Sydney understands the high level of the restaurants where Carmy has worked and what he has achieved professionally, and she admires him for it. She also understands on a much deeper level because he unknowingly fed her while he was the CDC in New York and she was his guest. Sydney’s eaten Carmy’s 3 Michelin star award winning food, and it was the best meal she’s ever had. He just doesn’t know it yet.

In S1E2, when the staff is cleaning the kitchen and Carmy mentions Noma, Marcus says “Noma’s the shit, huh?” Both Carmy and Sydney say “the best”, at the exact same time.

In terms of being understood, this contrasts starkly with Carmy’s conversation with Claire in another kitchen—the kitchen of the party house in S2E5. She mentions he was in France, he gently corrects her and says Copenhagen. She says, “go to Noma?”, he says, “worked at Noma.” Claire says, “I heard it’s alright” and he responds with “it’s pretty good”. This exchange stuck out to me when I first heard it. Is she sarcastically joking about Noma being just “alright”, or does she not know about its exceptional reputation? Either way she doesn’t ask Carmy any questions about it and then changes the subject.

After Carmy tells Sydney about his Michelin star call and the moment that immediately followed when he had to prepare to serve the U.N. Security Council, his face holds onto the memory of the moment and you can see it felt so good for him to express himself and talk about it. He probably hasn’t thought about it in a long time. He looks reflective and dare I say, proud. He then looks at Sydney, and they smile at each other. It’s quick, but he looks so grateful to her for allowing him to talk about this moment and also that she really, truly listened.

It’s these sweet little moments between the two of them that really make an impact because in these moments, they allow each other to share experiences that only a few people in the world would actually understand. Just like their sign language, the way they understand each other creates a form of communication and expression that is just between them.

I don’t think she realizes it, but Sydney asking Carmy this question, and by genuinely listening to and caring about his answer, she fed and nourished a part of him that had been starved for so long, just like he fed her.

©️moments-on-film 2023

[the-whispers-of-death]

Different anon here, but with an idea for the old!friend reader & john drabble 😼

After John pushed reader away, reader went to search for an engagement ring for their spouse alone with a sad expression on their face, due to the sudden outburst John had with them

HOWEEVER, they just happened to see their partner hanging out with a strange looking person, only for reader to find out their partner has been cheating the whole timee 😋 (kind of a cliche, but im rooting for john and reader fixing their friendship all over again)

And when John found out that they broke up, he felt horrible and went to apologize to reader for the things he said to them, on which he was thankfully forgiven

Of course he had to take it slow, though. And when the time was right, they finally got together like John always dreamt <3

Anon, you and I are on the same wave-length. I was like "I gotta get pretend of that partner someway so John still has a chance."

You were utterly heartbroken when you found out your partner, the one you bought an engagement ring for, had cheated on you. The break-up had been messy and by the time John had gathered himself courage to apologize for his outburst, he had heard about the break-up.

He was so enraged to hear your relationship had fallen through like that. Sure, he had rejoiced in your previous relationships breaking apart before, but that was different. Those previous partners hadn't devastated you like this.

John was so tempted to pull an old favor and have someone... dispose of your cheating ex-partner, but he instead focused on being a good friend to you. After he apologized and you forgave him, he did everything he could to make you happy.

You got all of the cuddles you could ever want, all of the forehead kisses. He made your favorite meals at dinner, whisking you away from that mess hall food. He watched your favorite shows with you, sat with you while you read your favorite books.

He was there, through it all, like always.

"It's alright, love. I'm here," he'd tell you when you cried in his arms. His heart broke when you told him you thought you were unlovable.

You were taking it one day at a time and you had gone back to sleeping in John's barracks with him, an old habit you two had formed when you were younger and the flashbacks of war had been so much that you both needed to sleep side by side for comfort.

John found himself watching you sleep one night, your body pressed against his. He could hear your heartbeat sync with his and he never wanted to lose this feeling ever again.

You were healing from the break-up now, but you weren't yet ready to go back into dating. And that was okay, because when you were ready, John was going to finally confess.

He'd never let you go through another heart-break again. Not when he, your soulmate, was right here. He was never going to let you think you were unlovable ever again.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[deliciousangelfestival]

3 Billion Divorce - Lloyd Hansen Series (Completed)

Character: Lloyd HansenxFem!Richreader

Summary: Reader became a rich heiress after her grandfather chose her as his successor. This reason was enough to make her relatives want her gone. Our reader is a fighter; when she finds a chance, she offers a fake marriage proposal to a sociopath mercenary. 

Words Count: 1750

A/N: Finally, I'm back. Never thought that I could make a post with Lloyd. It's been a while since the last time I posted. Hope you like it. Feedback and Reblogged are appreciated. Thank you!!!

The Italic font shows a flashback scene.

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

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Sometimes, simple things like waking up from a good sleep and having a coffee in the morning sound easy. To you, it sounds impossible. 

Because of everyday… 

Dangers always come to you. You must pay this price when you accept your grandfather's will. 

Four years ago,

Your grandfather wrote your name on his will to become his successor and owner of all his assets. But you have to be 35 years old before you get everything.

After the lawyer revealed the will, your relatives wanted you dead, so the grandfather's money would go to charity, and they could use it. 

Since then, your quiet life has turned to hell. 

Your relatives have hired multiple killers and assassins to kill you or make it look like a suicide. It's been four years of living like this. 

And there's only one more year left, the chasing getting more intense that you can't bear it anymore. 

Like today, you’ve been hiding in the back seat inside your car because a black Cadillac has been chasing you all day.

“I had enough with everyone who wanted me to die. What a family huh? They were born as elites but they’re monsters.”

Your old bodyguard Jimmy, an ex-Navy hired to protect you who was busy shooting the other car, said, "Y/N. To beat a monster, you have to make yourself a monster."

His words got you thinking. You want revenge on your relatives, but you don't have the ability since they have already bribed the police and judges. You are already powerless; the only person who always stays beside you is your old bodyguard. 

Before you could even get any idea, another car appeared from nowhere and hit yours.

“Jimmy!” You screamed the name that protected you before you lost consciousness.  

When you woke up, you already being tied down on the chair.

You look at your surrounding where you got kidnapped. It’s different than usual. Usually, it’s a dark basement with a horrible smell. 

But right now, you’re inside a nice room with a marble floor and Roman pillar. There’s also Renaissance painting and sculpture.  It seems like you’re in a mansion or something like that. 

The door suddenly opens, making you nervous because you are mentally unprepared to meet someone who will kill you. 

A group of men who wear bulletproof come inside the room. Lastly, a man who wears a black turtleneck and light brown pants. But you can see everything he wears is from a luxury brand. 

He leaned down and smiled at you. 

"Hello Princess, my name is Lloyd Hansen. Welcome to my home”. His voice was low and deep. 

‘His mustache looks ridiculous.’ You thought. 

His hand grabbed a screen tablet to show you the money that had been transferred.

“Someone really wants you dead. Look at the money they gave me. This is the biggest payment that I have received." You could feel the joy when he explained while you have a life crisis.

You wonder how much your relatives pay to make you go. When you saw the number… 

Ooh, it made you fume with rage. 

40 Million Dollars?!

Your life is only worth 40 Million?! 

With all the money you will get from your grandfather, your life is worth more than 40 Million. 

‘You have to make yourself a monster.’ You remembered those sentences from Jimmy. 

That gave you an idea. 

This man Lloyd Hansen, you could use him to be the monster to finish all relatives that want you dead.

"Mr. Hansen, I  don't want to die."

He nodded. "Me too sweetheart. But I've already got the money. They really want you to be gone quickly. Such a shame."

"If I gave you a proposal to make you richer, would you listen to my offer?"

Lloyd tapped his watch. "You have 3 minutes, sunshine."

“First of all, are you single Mr.Hansen?”

Lloyd let out a big laugh. 

But you didn’t laugh; you studied his character. After spending time with your bodyguard Jimmy, he taught you how to read people. You figure this man Lloyd is a sociopath, and seeing him acting childish like this, you take a bet that he is still single. 

With this, you took a chance and gathered your confidence. “I assume you are, that made my plan easier.”

You took a moment before offering the proposal because he would end your life if he didn’t like it.

"3 Billion Dollars."

'WHAT!' His soldier gasped when they heard the number.

Your offer got the attention, "I will give you 3 billion, but I want you to do something for me."

Even Lloyd never expected that. He did a background check on you. 

You’ve been trying to stay alive for 4 years. That's when he knew you're an extraordinary woman.  

One of his soldiers steps in, "I volunteer Miss Y/N."

Before you could see who it was, Lloyd had already shot him.

He smiled. "I could swim in that money, what can I do for you?"

"Marry me."

Lloyd's brain circuit stopped for a second. He laughed again, but he stopped when he saw you being serious.

"I didn't expect I would get proposed like this."

"You know I'm a rich heiress, and I will get my money next year. While waiting, I need someone to protect me and keep me alive. After that we will get a divorce and you will get other 2 billions. Right now, I could give you 1 billion. What do you think?"

There was a moment of silence. You could only hear the clock ticking. After he hears your offer, Lloyd turns his back and looks at the big French window. You couldn't see his expression. 

Suddenly he turns around and walks towards you. Lloyd got on his knees and grabbed your hand. "You got yourself a husband, Mrs. Hansen."

'Yeah, you caught a monster.'

-One year later-

Lloyd arrived at your company and saw your bodyguard, Jimmy. Lloyd clicked his tongue. “Where’s my wife?” Jimmy pointed to the door behind him.

Lloyd pushed the door and saw you look busy signing some documents, not glancing at him. 

He told your secretary, who was already scared, "Get out shithead."

After your secretary left, he turned around and saw you had crossed your arms while looking at him. Ooh, so you’ve been waiting. 

He always loves your confidence. This trait must be one reason your grandfather chose you as the successor. 

Lloyd smashed a piece of paper on your table. "What the fuck is this?"

"It's a divorce paper."

"Yeah, and you didn't even think to discuss it with me first ?"

"It's been a year Lloyd, we made a deal. Remember?"

It made Lloyd silent. 

Of course, he remembered. 

Lloyd wishes he could stop the time.

After he agreed to marry you, his life became more exciting. 

Lloyd always dealt with different hitmen, politicians who wanted to steal your assets, assassins, and taking revenge on your relatives who wished you were dead. 

With the 1 billion, he could get all the resources and finish his job quickly and quietly. He got new clients every day. 

But most of all, Lloyd cherished the time spent with you. He loves every moment. You have a sharp mouth, don't take No for an answer; he likes it when you act like a boss to him. He wants to obey your order. 

And… 

The sex was also excellent. You weren't tempted at first. But who can't resist the charm of Lloyd Hansen? At first, it was just pretending to act like husband and wife. Give each other kisses on the cheeks, then move to the next step because of the alcohol effect that leads to sleeping together. 

When you fell asleep on his chest, his fingers brushed your hair. You gave him a soft kiss on his forehead; it made him like a teenager who was drunk in love. 

You were there every time he got hurt. You hired the best doctor to treat him. No one ever does that to him. He knew because you needed him to stay alive. But when he saw you holding his hand while he was bleeding, Lloyd knew you cared for him. 

He likes having you near him and can't bear letting you go. 

Lloyd realised his feelings when Jimmy came and gave him the brown envelope. 

Lloyd knew what was inside the paper, so he ignored it. But that damn envelope keeps coming after you get the inheritance and you have left the house that you two shared.  He felt like a used rag that you could just throw away. 

He can’t imagine seeing you being single, and another man will try to pursue you. 

"If you sign it today, the other 2 billion will be transferred to your account."

"I don't want to."

"6 billion then."

Lloyd's hand touches his left chest.

"What hurts me more is that you have the money and could finish this as soon as possible."

Then both of you will be strangers; NO, he didn't want that. 

"After you use my body, you throw me away? You hurt my feelings sunshine."

You walk away from your table to stand in front of him. 

"Lloyd, that's part of our deal. You protect me and I owe you one.” 

You couldn’t believe he’s the same man who wants to kill you, and now he’s begging you not to leave him.

“And I paid my debt with money that I promised."

He sighed and said, "I do love money."

Lloyd held your hand that still wore the wedding ring; he rubbed it gently. 

"But my dear wife, I love you more."

Your breath hitched when you heard his sudden confession. You were stunned to speak. 

Lloyd grabbed your chin and gave you a passionate kiss. "I won't let this marriage end with divorce." 

Lloyd kissed your forehead before he left you. Before he reached the door, he saw from the mirror your reflection. Your fingers touch your lips. At that moment, he knew you shared the same feelings. He will give you an offer that you can’t resist. 

A/N : This Series has Completed.

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

buy me ko-fi

[bruh-myguy-what]

May I please request [WET] with Rex or Gregor or Howzer or Hunter? 🤣🙈 thank you, you wonderfully talented thing you! 💕

Hello, dear friend 😅

I'd like to formally apologize for disappearing on this ask/request for so long. I feel horrible 😓...BUT, I refused to allow that to prevent me from finishing it! SO! Almost a year later, here if your request!

Honestly, I struggled so much with picking between Howzer and Gregor haha I haven't written for any of your boys you suggested before so I felt the most comfortable with Howzer. Though, if you have any more requests, I'd be more than happy to make those about the other two 😏 Also, I started this far before season 3 came out haha sooooo, I just went with what I had mostly written.

Anyway! Here you are, friend!

The Downpour

Pairing: Captain Howzer x fem!reader

Warnings: none really? A little risqué but nothing NSFW- still not entirely my forte just yet haha, but some good kissing.

Summary: Howzer is hiding himself away, on a planet that should keep him safe until Rex and Gregor can come back for him with a few other Clone Rebels. Until then, he is at the mercy of a woman Rex had contact with to keep the clone Captain fed. But Howzer is struggling with rising feelings he never knew a military man like himself could feel.

Word Count: 3k

Though on a different planet, hiding was still a top priority to Howzer, especially now that he not only had to protect himself but you, as well. It hadn’t been long since Rex and Gregor, along with a few other rebellious clones, found a secluded place for the rogue to settle. Rex had a few connections to people in the neighboring town so Howzer had someone to help supply food or whatever he may need and that was how he stumbled upon you- the one who helped far more than he could’ve ever asked. You not only supplied food but comfort when he would have sudden bouts of panic and flashbacks of seeing his brothers die in battle. Not just comfort, but encouragement, kindness, understanding…compassion. For a clone. For someone expendable. Replaceable. However, you’d told him multiple times he wasn’t, there was no way he could understand how you’d believed that. You were so unique, so breathtakingly exotic to him, and yet…the only thing that made him any different than his brothers was the scars on his face from the battles he’d seen. Nevertheless, no matter how he’d felt about what you may have seen in him, he promised to protect you with every possible effort he could muster. You made the little shack he took shelter in a home and as reckless as the thought was, Howzer fully believed that he would prefer death before he’d let the Empire take that feeling from him. But of course, you were oblivious to all of the overwhelming affection that he scarcely kept from boiling over every time you’d show up at his door with that smile that he spent nights dreaming about.

Today was only a little different…

It was a cloudy, overcast day and Howzer assumed rain would be expected at some point in the day but being new to the region he was still growing accustomed to the exotic weather patterns. So, going about his day as he normally would, while waiting for you, he busied himself with straightening up the small shack for your arrival. There was hardly room to make a mess, though that didn’t stop the clone from feeling as if he needed to make the place as perfect for you as he could, every single time. Howzer could feel his fingers fidgeting nervously, adjusting the vase of native flora in the center of the table back and forth a few times to keep his hands busy. He’d found a bush of wild flowers a day or two ago, during his daily trek of the surrounding woods, and decided that he wanted to surprise you with them during one of your regular stop-ins. The feeling you gave him was an entirely new experience for the clone, he’d only ever known war and militia- cold nights and dangerous encounters. But you gave him gentle touches and warm smiles that brought a whole new perspective to his life- a softer perspective and he craved it.

Blinking, Howzer realized he’d been daydreaming of you once again, brought back to reality by the grounding sound of heavy rain hammering the roof above his head. Glancing out the window to see if the sound matched the actual amount of rain outside, Howzer glimpsed your silhouette amongst the trees. “She’s lost her mind!” He panicked to himself as he grabbed for his raincoat by the door, rushing out into the torrent to meet you halfway. The rogue clone shouted your name over the loud rain, bounding up to you. “Howzer!” You simply greeted him with a grin that nearly toppled him. The hand over your forehead, protecting your face from the rough battering of rain, moved to wave innocently at the man approaching you.

Once in front of one another, Howzer’s breath ragged from his sprint to you, he realized that the coat was useless, noticing how soaked through you’d become despite his efforts. Taking in your drenched figure, heat rose to warm his cheeks from the cold air when he observed how the wet fabric folded over your curves. “Seems a little silly for us both to be soaked, don’t you think, Captain?” You laughed playfully as you wiped at the water in your eyes. “I mean, look at you,” You motioned to his t-shirt that was now clinging to his well-muscled torso, taking a secret moment to admire it for yourself.

“I-uh,” he fought with his thoughts, the sight of your figure distracting him from the words he knew he needed to say to explain why he’d run out to meet you. Squeezing his eyes shut to think, he chuckled out a breath at his internal struggle. “You make me a fool, cyare. That’s my only defense.” He finally muttered against the rain, meeting your eyes with a charming smile.

Perplexed by seeing his lips move but not processing what he was saying because of the loud pattering of the rain, you blinked a few times. “Sorry, Captain” you teased his title again, “I’m afraid the rain is drowning out your voice.” Leaning to look past the larger man, you then glanced up at his face to see he was fixated on your eyes. “Maybe we should head inside, then you can tell me what you wanted to say.”

-

Once inside the humble shack, you shuffled out of the soaked jacket you had tossed on before leaving. Glancing over your shoulder at Howzer, noting that he was placing his usual paranoid locks in place, you queried, “So what was it that you said out there, Howzer?”

“Oh! Uh-“ Howzer stumbled over his words momentarily, remembering exactly what he’d unintentionally let slip, and silently praised the rain for being loud enough to cover his mistaken confession. “I-I was saying that you are incredibly insane for walking all the way here in that mess of rain.” His chuckle warmed your chilled bones as he took a seat on one of the wooden chairs at the small round table you, yourself were standing near. His honey eyes glimmered against his wet hair, which was currently plastered against his forehead, “Though, I’ve come to find that your unpredictable nature is endearing.” and the boyish grin that followed after made you surprisingly bashful.

A light blush touched your cheeks as you swatted him away, “I didn’t choose to walk through the deluge out there haphazardly, ya know! It just started pouring on my way over here”, your laugh trailing off as you pulled out the rations you were supposed to be delivering. “Halfway here I realized the rations were probably ruined as well…Sorry, Howzer.” The drenched packages that slopped onto the counter from your bag gave away the condition of the contents. A pout fell over your face and Howzer could hardly keep his heart steady as he saw the precious upturn of your brows.

The captain could hear the remorse and guilt weaving through your normally bubbly voice, so he waved his hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry about it, we can figure something else out, mesh’la. Besides, you should know by now, the rations are nice,” he chuckled, “but the company is far more valuable to me.” You had only met a handful of clones throughout your life, many of the Clone Wars had affected the planet around you, but never yours so that left the planet more for the stationing of the clones- but very rarely. The ones you had met had seemed far more rough around the edges, more militant than Howzer was, at least around you. He was always so gentle and notably affectionate. Certainly not that you were complaining, the way he treated you was special enough to swoon you from early on. A handsome military man with a compassionate heart was hardly something anyone could deny for too long.

Especially one with such an adorable smile such as his.

“I uh-” Howzer clearing his throat brought you back as he tapped his fingers against the table, “I saw these while I was on one of my walks the other day.” A subtle gesture toward the mason jar of wildflowers brought your attention to them, “they reminded me of you so I thought I’d bring them back and, uh, see how you liked them.” His eyes flickered between your reaction and the flora between the two of you. It wasn’t the first time the clone captain had been unsure of exactly what to say around you, not by a long shot, but the current situation felt more difficult than others.

“For…me?” The sweet innocence in your voice betrayed the devastatingly sinful way the wet clothes accentuated your figure for his trained eye, so in an attempt to compose himself, Howzer fiddled with pushing his wet hair back and out of his face.

“Yeah, for you, mesh’la” he cleared his throat again to steady his growing anticipation. Watching as your beautiful eyes widened in realization, picking the jar up to inspect it closer, Howzer felt his left leg begin to bounce against the wood floor. The silence felt suffocating as you continued to run your finger delicately through the flowers, not glancing even once over at the anxious captain. It gave enough pause for Howzer to overthink his words, maybe he should’ve explained more the reason why he picked them? Perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything? Had he said too much? Or worse…were these flowers that he thought were pretty just seen as weeds on your planet and now you thought he was insulting you?

Oh, stars…what if you thought he was insulting you!

“They’re so beautiful, Howzer,” your voice was soft and wistful enough to halt every worrying thought swirling inside of him. “I can’t believe you gathered them just for me. I really appreciate that.” You held the jar close to your chest and he was met with another one of your devastating smiles that made his heart stop in its thundering rhythm. The sparkle in your eyes hypnotized him, reeling him into what felt like a world where just your smile existed. There was no Republic, no Empire, no war, no Order 66, no hiding for safety…just the dream that was so perfectly…you. In this world, there were no repercussions for how he felt. He could love you freely as his heart desired, finally know the way you’d feel wrapped up in him, he wouldn’t have to worry about you being hurt by anyone because of him.

You could properly be his, the way he wanted to be yours.

“You are breathtaking, mesh’la…”

The words caught you off guard, your eyes having traveled back down at some point to look over the floral arrangement in your hands now snapped back over to see the clone captain gazing at you lovingly, as if he were looking upon a rare star. “H-Howzer…?”

It seemed as if he were enchanted by something as he stood up from his chair, being drawn in by the longing to touch you, “forgive me, I know this is sudden,” Howzer began in a low tone, his fingers caressing your hand as he approached, removing the jar gently and placing it aside. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” the way he breathed your name elicited goosebumps across your arms, his rough fingertips chasing them up to carefully cup your neck. Brown eyes searched yours for any sign of discomfort from his sudden display but he could find nothing of the such, surprise, elation, and confusion perhaps, but not an ounce of displeasure. Your wet cheeks felt warmer and warmer by the second, the restriction of the clothes that clung to your body becoming alarmingly apparent. “I could’ve chosen a better time to do this, I guess.” Chuckling as he wiped away a stray drop of rain that cascaded down your jaw to your neck where his warm hand was still settled.

“No,” your voice startled you, speaking before you even realized, “please…don’t stop. I-I…you’re very warm this close.”

“I could warm you up a little more,” the shift in his eyes was alluring as one of his hands slid back to cradle the back of your head, gently tangling his fingers through your wet hair, tilting your face up a little more to glance between your eyes and lips, “that is, if you’d allowed me, cyra’ika?” His grin melted any resolve you had to deny him for the sake of Rex and any other clones that might need their brother in top shape…not distracted by a romantic entanglement.

Your heart fluttered wildly against your chest, curiosity overwhelming you, “warm me up more?” and at his simple nod, you continued, “h-how?” Your hands finally came up to slide over his wet shirt, settling at his chest as he stepped even further into your space.

“I could tell you,” Howzer began, “or I could show you how beautiful I think you are.” he finished softer, the same fire behind his eyes. Thousands of possibilities ran wild through your mind at the offer, but before you could choose just one, hearing his gruff voice whisper your name to catch your immediate attention. “It would be an honor of mine to kiss you…please.”

Without answering, you surged upward to crash against him in a desperate attempt to quell some of the burning in your chest for the man before you. Howzer grunted at the sensation of feeling you against him finally, tasting your lips for the first time nearly bringing him to his knees. One of his hands stayed firmly at the back of your head, the other sliding down to press your lower back, pushing you further into him- craving the sensation of you everywhere. The way your lips slid against his in a fervent kiss made his head spin and the surprise of this even being reality instead of one of his many dreams caused him to pull away only a fraction to allow a whisper of your name to echo between the two of you. “Yes, Captain?” Your response was just as quiet as his, the title more of a pet name when spoken from your lips, “Don’t tell me you’re going to retreat from me now.” You always had such a sweet, innocent sparkle to your eye, and the way you gazed up at him currently with the same glimmer but this time with a haze of lust and hooded eyes made the clone captain even more resolute in his sudden decision.

“I’d be a kriffing fool, mesh’la,” Howzer pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, his tongue sliding dominantly into your mouth, claiming the treasure that was your moan. “A kriffing fool…” he repeated, almost breathlessly before he dove back in to devour you once more. The heated exchange was nearly dizzying, as he kissed you repeatedly, pulling away for only moments long enough to breathe. You’d always experienced his passion when he spoke of his brothers, the Clone Wars, Ryloth, and even Hera- the little Twi’lek girl he watched over often. But experiencing his passion in such an intimate way felt surreal and with his lips now trailing down your jaw to leave warm kisses against your neck you muttered his name through heavy breaths. “Yes, cyar’ika?” The gravel in his voice vibrated through your body.

“Wh-What do those words-” you were interrupted by a sudden gasp as he pulled aside the wet shoulder of your shirt to kiss your wet skin, “those words mean…the names you call me.”

Howzer hummed in pleasure at your question, kissing back along to your collarbone, “my Mando’a pet names for you,” he began, only stopping to speak against your cold skin, “Mesh’la,” he kissed your clavicle, “means beautiful. Which you are, to me.” Lips leaving kisses across to the other shoulder, “Cyar’ika” a warm open-mouthed kiss to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, “means darling, or sweetheart- interchangeably. And you are both of those things, my darling and my sweetheart.” His whispers only heightened the sensation of his kisses against your skin. “Cyare”, this one he paused for a moment, considering if he should give the truth of the definition to you, or what others could use the word to mean. As his lips kissed up the column of your neck, Howzer felt the way your hands gripped at the cloth of his shirt, fortifying his determination. Leaving a kiss just below your ear he whispered, “Mean beloved.” Your shuttering gasp made him smile against your skin, “which you are. You are my beloved.”

It felt like a dream as you felt him encircle you within his arms, head rising to meet your eyes once more, his damp hair, you noticed, having come to fall back onto his forehead. “You are everything I never even considered and if you’ll continue to let me, I would love to show you just how deeply I care about you, mesh’la.” His eyes spoke more than his words, the way they glimmered eagerly to shower you with his affection.

It felt as if your heart were bound to burst upon all of the sudden emotions, but you merely took a deep breath and matched his growing smile, “I would love that, Howzer. Please, show me how much you care about me, so that I may do the same for you.”

Mischief filled his smile as he caressed your cheek adoringly, “Then if you don’t, let’s get you out of these drenched clothes, what do you say?”

[secret-engima]

Kumo Thoughts

So this will hopefully be quick but the most common take I see for Kumo in the Naruto fandom is that it's a overly militaristic hellhole (pardon the language) that kidnaps and forcibly breeds any bloodline it can get its hands on and like.

I get it?

the Naruto ninja world is absolutely messed up enough to accommodate a village like that. Especially with- *waves at Kiri*, *waves at ROOT*, *waves at Ame*, *wa-*. But I feel like personally I think that's. The shallowest take? Like if that's how you wanna world build it! You can! Lots of angst and interesting subterfuge down that way.

But we seen in canon that shinobi who live in Really horrible villages do tend to go missing-nin en masse; Kiri is the poster child for this, but Iwa and Suna both have some ... pretty noticeable defections. On the flip side the only REAL Kumo missing-nin we see, iirc, are the Kinkaku brothers.

From The First Shinobi War.

Like- what are things we know about Kumo *really* from the show/s?

and the one everyone harps on in worldbuilding- they tried to kidnap Hinata and Kushina.

HOWEVER. The rest of the things we know about them are:

2. Their Raikage is allergic to doors. He refuses to acknowledge doors. He can and will smash through any wall, window, or other non-door entity in order to exit or enter a room when at all possible. This is not the behavior of a Strict Rigid Militaristic Man this is the behavior of a feral gorilla someone stuffed in an office and expected to do paperwork. Which, granted, A is fully capable of doing his paperwork, by all accounts he's actually really good at running his village. But again. This man is allergic to doors or manners and anyone who is willing to arm wrestle Senju Tsunade to get medical assistance for his own men can't be all bad let's be real.

3. Killer B exists. I feel like he alone is enough evidence against the "military breeding program hellhole" fanon but to break it down. This "brother" of A is not actually his brother. In canon, B is literally just- *some kid*, AT BEST a cousin of the previous Jinchuuriki but that is not confirmed iirc, that was among several other kids that were all lined up and told "we need a new Jinchuuriki and A needs a fighting buddy, run at this training dummy and see if you can help him decapitate it" and when B was the one who succeeded they went "congrats you're his brother now, here's your complimentary octopus monster". And like everyone just accepts this? Not a SINGLE person calls B as a fake brother or points out that he and A are not actually related. Not to mention B has the strongest and most stable relationship with his Biju until Naruto and Kurama work out their bromance, and B was rocking that friendship with his biju *years* before Naruto even knew Kurama was a Thing That Existed.

4. B is also beloved by his village. BELOVED. The people adore him and his weird rapping nonsense. And yeah there's flashbacks in the anime to that not being the case when he was first introduced but B was actually able to work on changing their minds. You really think "small feral child rapping at civilians to make them warm up to him" would have flown in Kiri? In Iwa who canonically keep abusing their jinchuuriki to the point of running off? Nope. No sir. B is also allowed to have a team of his own, and seems to not only be an accepted member of the village but also a much trusted and beloved one who is even allowed his own team? Even Konoha doesn't have that good a track record lbr. It took Naruto face punching the guy who just committed genocide on the entire village for Konoha to go "you know what? We like you now".

5. One of the only other jinchuuriki we see that has fully mastered their Biju state and is on good terms with their Biju while also not being a missing-nin (or brainwashed and then immediately dead) is ALSO a Kumo ninja. Namely the holder of the Two Tails. Now on the wiki it says that she was put through a "detestable" training program but we all know how inconsistent Kishi is with... everything worldbuilding ever. And if we go off behavior alone from the brief scenes with her, Yugito Nii is?? Really stable??? And solid with her Biju??? She gave her pawprint for an Uchiha child's book of cat paw prints for crying out loud.

6. throughout the entire show, Jinchuuriki are consistently treated as the lowest class citizens. In basically every village. Naruto in Konoha, Kushina cried when she realized Minato was going to make Naruto a Jinchuuriki and put him through what she went through growing up as one so you know she didn't have a great time either, GAARA is his own entire dissertation on Jinchuuriki treatment and stability, Fuu was raised by the village leader of her village but had zero friends and was canonically super lonely and isolated, Han and Roku straight up ran away from Iwa because of whatever they were put through, a maneuver only repeated in another village by Utakata from Kiri. But in Kumo we find two jinchuuriki who have mastered their biju, are well respected by their peers and fellow citizens, and are basically treated like any other really weirdo ninja from the village barring needing to be monitored with bodyguards in B's case, which is mostly because he keeps running away to go train under rap artists so you can understand why A is ready to go frothing at the mouth feral at his brother sometimes.

All I'm saying is that if even the village's "monsters" are treated that way, why does everyone stick with the fanon that they're a breeding, bloodline stealing hellhole?

Imo it would be WAY more fun to world build Kumo as the feral mountain ninja-mandalorians of the Elemental Nations, who have a reputation for bloodline theft because they keep finding Actual Strays, Refugees from other villages, and Illegitimate bloodline children and going: YO ANYONE GONNA ADOPT THIS? and not waiting for an answer. Your a missing ninja from Kiri and you're fed up with both them and missing-nin life and want to come work for us? Great. Oh you also have a valuable kekkei genkai that can be inherited? Awesome have you heard of our red light district and child support program or better yet our tax deductible program for marrying one of our lovely civilians and raising a family here where no bloodline purges will ever happen ever. Oh you're a stray Uzumaki on the run from bloodline hunters? Well we may have been involved in destroying Uzushio (depends on your fan interpretation since canonically we do not know which villages did that other than Not Konoha) but we also have hot food, good housing, high ninja standards of living, and free weekly entertainment in betting when our Raikage is going to launch his desk at his brother like a high speed missile because B's rapping got too cringy.

Let Hinata's and Kushina's kidnapping either be the exception to their usual playbook of how they acquire bloodlines (hey it's not their fault if the other villages can't keep it in their pants/can't inspire loyalty) OR have it be seen, culturally in Kumo, as something more akin to a rescue mission. Yes these two girls are useful and have useful bloodlines, that's tactically wise, but also have you SEEN how Konoha treats their jinchuuriki? They have seal master princess and are treating her like a dog on a leash! And literally everyone knows what the Hyuuga do to their own kids if they aren't main branch, and we can't rescue any of those kids without their eyeballs exploding and them dying but hey we can snag the heiress and then any kids she has won't have to be branded so-.

Like I feel that would be so much more INTERESTING? Instead of having Konoha be the only "nice" village and make this weird tonal dissonance for how the "nice" village has the most incompetent leadership (Sarutobi) and underground atrocities (Danzo and Orochimaru) while every other village is Horrible All The Time For Everyone why not have Kumo be actually Really Functional and treat their shinobi and Jinchuuriki well and their horrible reputation is *mostly* (not entirely, because. Ninja.) be cultural clashes between the feral mountain ninja and Everyone Else and propaganda from the other villages who would like their shinobi to STOP DEFECTING TO KUMO PLEASE. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY HAVE DENTAL.

Seriously I feel like there is so much more you could do with that angle than just "yet another shinobi village that is Bad and Awful and Needs The Power of Friendship yet somehow has this really stupid goofy jinchuuriki man who loves his brother and his village shut up don't think about it".

[needle-noggins]

Time for Vol. 5: Meryl's very bad no good horrible day

Even though she saved the day by shooting Legato, breaking the craziest stand-off while also scared shitless. I love my wife. She can hold so much complexity in her. Now let's get into it:

First, a moment from Vash:

Our boy is in utter agony here, and the thought of Meryl is what keeps him going. Obviously she's in danger and needs rescuing, but come on. He's enduring this pain for her. He can't quit, for her. Yeah, this is par for the course for our anime jesus figure, but come on. Let me have this.

Quick moment of Meryl seeing Vash's feathers for the first time and she's terrified. It's interesting how Wolfwood and Meryl are both so deeply terrified of Vash, but Wolfwood saw a lot more up front at Jeunora Rock and from a distance. Meryl, on the other hand, is trapped. I also think Wolfwood processes it completely differently because he also sees himself as a monster, so to him it's recognition of the self through the other (deragatory). For Meryl, it's just all traumatic. She's just a 23 year old woman and she didn't ask for this.

I think these panels above explain my question from earlier - Meryl is definitely seeing Vash's flashbacks to July here. She sees the black hole gate, the destruction, and the angel arm; I'm not sure if she knows about the part with Knives, but based on some really helpful people on my earlier post today, I think she reveals that she saw that too (oof). I'm not sure what she's seeing in the bottom panel of page 95, though. If someone could explain, I would be super appreciative.

Like I said, she's just a normal person. What was it that someone said to Vash earlier, that he's endured more pain than any person possibly could live with? And now Meryl feels some of that - a lot of it, perhaps, considering that July was so traumatic to Vash that he lost his memory of it. Someone else pointed it out wonderfully that while Fifth Moon was Knives controlling Vash, July was 100% Vash aiming to kill Knives and everyone else was an unlucky casualty of Vash's fear and anger. Meryl sees what Vash is capable of - and that he has killed scores of people - not just second-hand through circumstance, but in actuality.

ANGEL MODE GO CRAZY GO STUPID! GORE GORE GORE!

I mean, Vash doesn't have great control of his power anyway, between hardly ever using it and feeling intense emotion that affects it. Thank god he doesn't use the angel arm here, but holy shit? Meryl just saw what that thing is capable of, and Wolfwood saw it in real time, and he's yelling at Meryl to escape but she's trapped underneath him. After she was also trapped in an elevator, and the elevator fell, and holy shit if i were her I would need extensive therapy to go into an elevator ever again, never mind all of Vash. And then as Vash's angel arm powers down it morphs again into this ungodly homunculus of body parts like it's fucking Envy from Fullmetal Alchemist (*Trigun predates FMA, to be clear) and he is apologizing profusely, knowing how terrifying it is and he has no control over what's happening with his body.

Huh. Between that and how Knives keeps assaulting him, that's a pretty painful running theme.

Thankfully, as Elendira takes the spotlight (my other wife) (she can do no wrong, I love her dearly), I think it gives Vash some time to cool down long enough to go back to "normal". And then he holds a dying Hoppered's hand, showing compassion to a man who tried to kill him but then re-experienced the horrors of July with him, showing that Vash still cares that despite how terrifying and destructive he can be when he loses it. And Meryl watches on.

[watchmorecinema]

Yukio Mishima has been trending this week for uh, reasons. He was a world renowned Japanese author and all of his work is overshadowed by his actions on November 25, 1970. You might not want to read more about this guy because he is horrible and disgusting, but he's utterly fascinating and the movie about him is brilliant.

He's a really interesting character, to the point that he sounds fictional. He's gay, obsessed with ritualistic death, a right wing lunatic, led a private militia that was halfway to a cult, and also was a legitimately great author. His life is covered in the film Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters and it's easily the most beautiful film I've seen in my life. Look at the stills I posted above; every frame of this movie looks like that. It's all just a series of beautiful paintings with people living in them.

The way the film is structured is that it tells the story of his life in three ways. His past is told in black and white flashbacks with static cameras. This is closer to how a movie from the 50's would look like (specifically ones directed by Yasujirō Ozu). The events of three of his books are told with this beautifully stylized look, with sets that look like stage plays. The events of November 25, 1970 is told in an almost normal fashion, with regular colors and competent camerawork. The past is nostalgic, the present is mundane and only in fantasy can you truly come alive.

Through this movie we see the ideology of Mishima coming through. His nationalism, his sexual feelings and his thoughts on beauty and death all come together. Death isn't just a violent and tragic end, it is in itself a beautiful act. Beauty is the only true goal of life and creating beauty brings honor. Growing old and ugly is an act of hate; to die at your peak is to give love back to the world. It is therefore treasonous to live long enough to die peacefully. He pities what heaven must look like now; when men died young and beautiful it was paradise, but now it is filled with old men.

This is an objectively insane way to view the world but it is also fascinating. How much of this was what he believed, and how much of it was just begging for attention? In one instance when asked why he moved to the right politically he said "because the left was full". It was a joke answer, but he clearly wanted to be in the spotlight. His shield society was a paramilitary group dedicated to living a virtuous life of beauty, honor and old ideals. It was also a group of good looking, athletic young men led by a (barely) closeted, conservative gay man. So much of his life could have gone differently but also he was pretty much in control the whole time; he was independently wealthy and revered on the world stage. He could do whatever he wanted, and apparently the way his life went *is* what he wanted.

What's special about Mishima, both in the film and in real life, is that he's a smart and eloquent guy. In films the guy with a crazy worldview is someone like Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver or D-Fens from Falling Down. Travis couldn't understand the alienation and loneliness he felt and he couldn't find any healthy solutions. D-Fens was smart enough but not emotionally strong enough to confront his problems or deal with them maturely. These are people that could benefit greatly from therapy (other examples include Joker from Joker, Rupert Pupkin from the King of Comedy, Frank Murdoch from God Bless America, Patrick Bateman from American Psycho, Tyler Durden from Fight Club and so, so many more).

These are either 20 something year olds that are lost in the world, alienated and lonely, or 40 something year olds with a mid life crisis when they realize that everything has fallen apart. People who don't know where to go, or realize it's too late to change things. Travis Bickle had basically no friends, no family, no charisma with women and a lot of rage and anger. D-Fens lost his job, his self respect and was estranged from his ex-wife and daughter. These are people who's lives are shit at best (Patrick Bateman is a bit of a subversion. He is rich and successful, but his life is completely hollow, his relationships are shallow and he personally is very, very pathetic. I need to write about American Psycho later that film is great too.).

Mishima is different. He's smart enough to understand his issues and how to find help. He's got the money and means to do so. He's famous and rich enough that he could basically get away with anything weird or eccentric so long as it was harmless. On the world stage he was a popular author, and at home he led a life of political activism. If he was unhappy he could easily find healthy ways to fix it. His self destruction was the most avoidable of any of them, yet he's the only one that existed in real life. You expect these people to have serious personality flaws and unfixable (or seemingly unfixable) problems, not to be poetic writers that adhere to healthy living and regularly journal about their emotions, while enjoying respect from their peers and fulfillment in their work.

It's a hell of a film. Paul Schrader has not written or directed anything better (he actually wrote Taxi Driver too, so he had some experience with this type of character before) and it stands out as an incredible experience to watch. Like, Mishima's life is public knowledge and you can probably guess how it went, but I've purposefully not said what happened on November 25, 1970 because I don't want to spoil it. It's an event that actually happened but it's better for you to find out via the film than some wikipedia page.

[bnm-girl]

gaz. Kyle? Gaz.

gaz has the biggest dick. mouth in bed. bartender!gaz x fem!reader

tw: name calling, rough sex, creep trying to approach reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

summary: While you came to the club to try and get over a guy, you cant help but notice a certain staff member looking over.

minors dni!

no bcz hdssfvhjkj this man has me in a chokehold rn.

The lights are dim and colorful in the club, and some song is blasting over the speakers. You nurse your fruity cocktail while looking over at the dance floor. You came here to get over your shitbag of a boyfriend, but it seems like it’s going to be more difficult than you thought. A glance around just shows drunk snobs. You look down at your drink, remembering the cute bartender that gave you your drink. Flashbacking to when he slid the drink down the bar like a pro, with a wink, getting a laugh from you.

Your thoughts are interrupted when some dude comes up to you, giving you a tap on the shoulder. You feel a slight moment of hope, hoping you would actuslly find someone at this god forsaken club. But when you turn around, you are met with the sight on a 50 year old drunk, who smells horrible and something dripping down his tank. You instantly scrunch your nose up at the sight (and smell). He grins with a rancid breath and asks “hey sweetcheeks, you wanna have some fun?” Grinning again as you reel away from him. “Sorry sir, i’m having enough as is.” You reply curtly. He stumbles right in front on your face and grabs your arm, “cmongirlll, you don look like your havinggfun, stopp being sucha bitch and letloose some” panick floods your system, not knowing what to do nor respond without escalating the situation.

“sir, would you like a shot? Iss on the house” he looks over at the drunken man, he quickly walks over to him. You look at his nametag, reading ‘Kyle’. The man downs the shot and stumbles off. Kyle walks over to you and says “you alright dear? My god, his breath stinks!”

You laugh, “yes, and thank you so much.. Kyle? for for that.”

He smiles, “just call me gaz. I think i did pretty good eh? To be honest, we usually don’t deal with this many assholes. Let me get you a drink, sorry about that. What would you like?”

You quickly reply, quickly realizing that you did find a guy at the club, just not who you expected. You respond “just giving out drinks to everyone today huh?” His face was all fun and smiles, but his eyes held another feeling.

“nope, only pretty ladies and drunk assholes” his eyes running down your body, but you could barely catch it.

“You flirting with me gaz?”

“Only if you wan’ me to, and you’re in luck, because my shift end just about now” looking at his watch. He leans over the bar, leaning into your ear “So, you flirting with me?” He murmurs, voice just above the blasting speakers.

“So what if i am?” You grin, standing up from your seat.

He walks around the bar so he’s right next to you. He leans down into your face, “is that a yes i’m hearing?”

“yes.”

With hearing your consent, he grabs you by the wrist and leads you to the car. Even when in such a rush, he opens the door. He hops in and starts to drive, hand on your thigh. He is definitely driving above the speed limit, but that’s the least of your worries. As you look around, you notice how nice his car is.

“Gaz, not to be mean, but you’ve got a really nice car for a bartender”

“well love, that might be because i own the club.”

You flush at the pet name, you can’t help but squirm from his hand thats a little too high on your leg. You just hope he doesn’t brush his hand along the wet spot in your panties. You try to play off your evident horniness by responding back, “so this is undercover boss now?”

“if you want it to be, never really tried roleplaying but never say no.”

You flush even more. He knew what you were talking about, but he thought it would be better to tease you. You look at the nice apartment complex he lives in. Wether it be from the alcohol, lust, or anticipation, going up to the apartment was a blur. The snap back to reality is the second the door clicks, his mouth is on yours, teeth clashing and tongues swirling. He nips at your lip, and Gaz is convinced he might bust a nut right then and there.

He pushes you against a wall and rasps, “jump” he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. He sit you down and His hands wander all over, he then grabs the zipper to your dress and pulls it down. He groans, noticing you aren’t wearing a bra. He sucks on your neck, purple and pink blossoming on your neck. He makes his way down to your cunt,

“holy shittt, this has gotta be the prettiest cunt ive ever seen. Such a whore huh? Barely touched you and you’re already soaked through your panties huh?” He grabs the elastic of your underwear and snaps it against your stomach, causing your hips to buck. “Desperate slut.” He thumbs your clit through your underwear, causing you to whine out. He pushes your panties to the side and licks a long stripe up your pussy. You moan out almost instantly, trying to find purchase in grabbing the sheets. He sucks in your clit as you gush around his tounge, he licks it all up with eagerness. He then gets his middle finger and starts to probe at your hole. He pushes his finger in and curls up into that spongy spot. You moan out, the Pleasure becoming overwhelming. “Gaz- im gonna - gonna uh-“

“Come for me darling”

With noises you’ve only ever heard in pornos, you have the most earth shattering orgasmm of your life.

Gaz continues to lick up your juices as he finally, although begrudgingly, pulled away. His mouth was completely soaked in you. His shiny chin and lips were a sight to behold. The look of his blown out eyes and wet face almost got you to come again.

he notices you starting and says “take a picture, it’ll last longer”

He starts to unbutton his vest and shirt, when you start helping him unbuckle his pants. You kissed down his happy trail and noticed the veins leading to his dick.

“such a slut for this cock huh?”

When you finally pull his dick out of his boxers, your mouth starts to water. Long, but more on the thick side, slightly pointing up with a slightly red tip. It has a thick mushroom head and veins running alone the underside. You notice a bead of precum of his tip and kiss it off. He groans with delight.

“answer me pretty girl” he grabs his cock and starts tapping it on the side of your cheeck

“Just put it in you dickwad” you snap, the desperation becoming almost too much

“if you insist” he grins, he aligns his dick with your cunt, getting ready to put it in, but instead of sliding in, he rubs the head of his cock along your pussy. You whine, “please gaz, i need your cock in me”

He grins at your begging, his ego inflating. “As much as i would love to put my dick in your slobbering pussy, this is punishment for calling me a dickwad. Karma sweetie”

he continues to do that for what seems like forever, back an forth. You are so wet just from this that your fluids were dripping down his leg. Finally, with no warning, he shoves his cock into your pussy. You moan out, feeling like the breath has been knocked out from your lungs. His fat mushroom tip slams into your cervix every single time. The feeling of his veins along your walls feels euphoric. You were sure that the neighbors were going to call a noise complaint after this.

He leans forward and holds your back so he can thrust into you further. You wrap your legs around him and claw at his back and neck to find relief from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

He starts blabbering, “fuckk love you feel divine, what this pussy was made for innit? Yer cunts gonna mould to my dick, squeezing so tight gonna pull my dick off, betcha live this eh? Such a good whore, my little pretty slut— fuck”

You moan out, senses going into overdrive when he grabs your legs and slings then over his shoulders. “Gaz, i feel funny, i uh uh uh i feel like im gonna pee” He brings his hand down and rubs circles around your clit. Your back arches as his free hand plays with your boobs. You finally come again, but this time you squirt. You spray your juices all on gaz and you’re moaning so loud you know for a fact the whole building can hear.

He looks down and groans, “fuck yer a squirter huh, such a perfect little cunt, making such a mess on me eh? Betcha wont find anither guy like me” he them grabs your legs and folds you in half, solely focused on his pleasure now.

he continues to thrust into you, but soon later, he groans out “where?”

“in me fuck gaz, put a baby in me please lord”

with a few more thrusts, he leans in, filling you to the hilt, and busts a load in you. He pulls out and watches as his seed drips out of you, he grabs two fingers and pushes in back in.

“cant have you wasting my cum, no? Might be the hottest thing ive every done or seen”

you wake up the next morning in clean sheets and clothes too big, you see a note on the counter that says,

###-###-#### stay for today? Let me take you out on a date :)

-gaz

(lmk if yall wanna taglist)