#i should have some sort of tag for these posts... let's just keep it simple:

[crehador]

brother crab's 2023 seasonals in review: winter

there were some bonkers good series this year, and i apparently watched or am watching... 75 of them! what the hell lmao let's see what stood out to me in winter

revenger and benriya saitou-san, isekai ni iku were the two gems for me, and ironically i didn't follow either as it aired. both were very bingeable and if it had had just... a slightly less unsatisfactory ending... revenger would've been an easy anime of the season pick for me

but alas, with the ending revenger does have, i'd say it's a tie with saitou-san, which really gets a boost from its surprisingly uhhh poignant dog ate penis arc

in terms of sequels (which i tend to weigh separately from anime originals or new adaptations) everything was pretty good, we had bsd s4, tsurune s2, gokushufudou s2, and the vampire dies in no time s2

tsurune s2 gets the win for best sequel of the season for me, if only because it provided some of my new favorite seiya moments

quickfire thoughts on some others:

ooyukiumi no kaina wound up being a little bit of a disappointment after some beautiful and fascinating worldbuilding in the first episode

high card was decent enough for me to add the upcoming season to planning but the team dynamics haven't really grabbed me yet

koori zokusei danshi to cool na douryou joshi was some mild cute fun but the pacing felt really wonky at times, and it was swiftly outclassed by watakon later in the year

tomo-chan wa onnanoko! was not terribly memorable, but i did appreciate that it was a full/complete adaptation

shuumatsu no vlkyrie ii also originally released this season, but i didn't binge the whole thing until later this year. it's a banger they got gyaru buddha here what more can i say

the idol series of the season, technoroid and uniteup, were both fine. fun! but besides like one anela song neither series had me looping any music

speaking of music

op of the season goes to tristamp and ed of the season goes to nier, absolutely no contest (which is very refreshing because it's usually so difficult for me to pick lol)

uhh... what else would be good to include... otp of the season? might not always have one but raizou &/ usui (revenger) briefly had me by the balls for sure lmao

[eyelessfaces]

just in case

poe dameron x reader

summary: while fiddling with bb–8's memory, you stumble onto an audio message– poe's prerecorded goodbyes.

based on @ivystoryweaver's headcanon on this post! thank you for allowing me to write something about it!

warnings: angst, mentions of death and war

tags: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, kissing, poe being an absolute sap

word count: 2.6k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

He can’t help the fond smile growing over his face at the sight of you, deeply focused on the repair project in front of you before his knuckles hit against the doorframe a couple times, catching your attention. 

Your gaze meets Poe’s as he steps into your workshop, your expression of concentration quickly giving way to an easy smile when you see him, closely followed by BB–8. 

Poe greets you with a kiss, his hand lingering at your side when he pulls away. 

“What’s bringing you here, handsome?” you ask, shifting to put away the tool you still have in hand. “Hey Beebs,” you smile as you glance down at the droid that greets you back. 

Poe gazes down at his droid, his look shifting back at you. “Could you take a look at him whenever you got the time?” he asks, a small, defeated sigh escaping his mouth. 

“What’s up?” you question, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at him. It hadn’t been that long since you last checked up on the droid.

“I think there’s something up with his memory, he’s been acting a little forgetful lately” Poe explains; you can see the concern in his eyes, can hear the worry in his voice.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.” Poe nods, pinching his lips into a quiet smile as he looks down at the droid. “Hey, you don’t have to worry'' you reassure him, resting a hand over his arm. “It’s nothing too serious usually. Nothing I can’t fix.” He nods again, knowing he can trust you with this, knowing you're as good at this as he is at flying. 

“I’ll take care of him as soon as I’m done with that” you point back to the mess of scavenged parts resting over your workbench.

“Thank you sweetheart,” he says, cupping the back of your head and leaning in to leave a quick kiss on your forehead. “I’d stay with you and tell you about my day, but I have my last meeting of the day in about less than five minutes.” he shrugs, starting to walk backwards to exit the room.

“Sure, don’t worry.” you smile. “Come over when you’re done” 

As promised, the minute you’re done repairing the project you were working on, you lower your workbench to BB-8’s level, letting him roll onto the surface before you adjust it to your level so you can examine him. 

“Hey buddy. memory issues huh?” you coo, grabbing your tools, gathering everything you need to check up on him. He responds with upset beeps, his upper part sagging in defeat. 

“That's okay. Happens to the best of us,” you reassure him, setting to work on diagnosing the problem. “So since it seems to be a memory issue, I’m gonna have to look through your data” you explain, opening his access panels. 

It doesn’t take long for you to identify the issue: a few corrupted memory files. It’s a relief to see it's nothing severe, just a bit of corrupted data that needs to be cleaned and restructured. “Hah, found the problem,” you say, beginning the delicate process of correcting the corrupted files. “Looks like some of your memory files got a bit jumbled. Should be fine once we get that sorted out, there shouldn’t be any problem.” you explain. “You know, Poe always gets so worried about you.” you say, trying to keep the droid calm as your fingers work through the wires and circuits. BB–8 emits a series of grateful beeps, and you smile, focusing back on the task at hand. 

As you work on fixing him, BB–8 chirps curiously, his dome turning to watch you. You explain each step in simple terms, trying to distract him and make it the least stressful possible for him. “I’m working through your memory module. Some of these files are corrupted, so I’m cleaning them up and re-organizing everything. Just like tidying up a messy room.”

BB-8 responds with a relieved series of beeps, and you chuckle. “Yeah, I know it’s not fun for you to have me mess with your memory stuff, but I’ll have you be back to your old self in no time.” 

As you carefully rework BB–8’s memory files, you fumble slightly with a delicate wire, causing a brief short circuit – the droid jerks and beeps erratically before suddenly playing a vocal message. You reach to stop it, assuming it’s a manufactured error message you’ve triggered, but you freeze when you recognize Poe’s voice. “Hey baby,” Poe’s voice crackles through BB–8’s speakers, startling you. You frown, confused, ready to stop the audio message. “If you’re hearing this, it’s probably because something happened and I’m not around anymore.” Your heart properly skips a beat. “I’m sorry I’m leaving you like this,” he sighs softly. “Damn it’s weird talking like this when I’m still here,” he chuckles. You step back, driven by morbid curiosity, firmly intending to listen to the rest of it. 

“But you know, with everything that’s been happening lately and that’s gonna happen, you never know what’s next.” 

He sounds tired. You bite down onto your lip, a soft frown forming over your face and your gaze lost as the recording continues. “I could die in two weeks or in twenty years from the moment I’m recording this, so it’s pretty strange. I just… I love you so much. I wanted you to hear it from me one last time.” 

Your lips curl into a weak smile, tears welling up in your eyes. It’s stupid. He’s still here. It’s just a recording in case he dies.

But somehow, you can’t help it. Not with the prospect that you could listen to it again one day, in the context it was intended to be listened to.

“You’ve always been supportive of my bullshit, no matter what, and you were always there for me no matter how stupid I got, so it’s only fair I thank you one last time. I really hope we got to enjoy our time together” 

You pause the audio message, running your hand over your face, sighing deeply. You want to stop there and not listen to the entirety of it, on one hand because you aren't even supposed to hear it or know of its existence in the first place, and most of all because you’re not sure you can handle it – but your curiosity gets the best of you, and you let it go on.

“It’s stupid that I want to cry, because I’m still here” he chuckles. “You know, I’m recording this because I couldn’t sleep.” he declares. You can hear the soft strain in his voice, you can imagine him and his tired eyes, his hair slightly mussed from tossing and turning like he always does when he’s restless.

He sighs deeply before he speaks again. “I uh… Today’s mission went awful. I could have died and I didn’t even tell you” his voice drops with the weight of his words, he pauses for a second, and the knot inside your throat tightens.  

“You’re sleeping in the next room. You know, you looked so peaceful when I got out of bed that I didn't want to bother you by kissing your forehead, but I did it anyway because I remembered I might not be able to do it forever”

You can’t help it, it’s over for you. Tears roll down your cheeks on their own, the back of your hand suppressing your sniffles and the soft laugh you huff out at his way of always saying things that will get you.

BB-8’s upper part shifts, and he emits a soft, sympathetic whirr, trying to console you.

“I’ve left this message with BB-8 because I know he’s always with you if he’s not with me. Take care of him for me, will you? And take care of yourself. You’re stronger than you know, and you’ll get through this. I love you. So much. More than you know. Which is why I’m gonna cut the recording and get back to bed to hold you tight while I can” 

Your heart tightens inside your chest. You slowly shake your head, tears forced out of you when your eyes fall shut.

“Alright, okay, bye sweetheart. I love you.” 

The recording cuts, ending with a click, leaving you in a stunned silence. BB turns to you, beeping sadly, and you give him a weak smile before wiping the tears over your cheeks with the tips of your fingers. 

You huff out a heavy breath, one that you didn’t even realize was smothering your chest, and force yourself to finish taking care of BB–8 despite everything. 

You’re still sobbing when Poe comes in again. 

He finds you, full on tearing up, not even hiding it – which he finds strange, because you usually turn around and pretend to look for something to quickly dry your tears, and proceed to poorly try to deny you’ve been crying just to avoid worrying him. 

And the context he’s facing quickly leads him to assume something is wrong with BB-8, something you couldn’t manage to fix and now blame yourself for – BB–8 is quick to deny with appalled beeps, so Poe really doesn’t have any idea what he’s dealing with. 

When you pull him near and hug him tight, gripping his hair, longing to be as close to him as possible, he’s still as confused, but he’s swift to take action and hold you even tighter.

His embrace is warm, comforting, his touch delicate as his hand appeasingly rubs over your shoulder, and you progressively manage to calm down and quiet your sobs. “What’s going on babe” he quietly asks, trying to not pounce on you. His fingers carefully lift your chin up, taking care of clearing the tears from your face, his eyes searching yours intensely as he waits for your answer.

You sigh softly, your breath still ragged from sobbing. “I was working on Beebs and I found your…” you pause, realizing you’re not even sure what to call it. You're not even sure you want to say it out loud, to say it's a goodbye message. “I found your recording– I didn't mean to, it just–”

“Oh,” his face drops in saddened surprise, immediately understanding what you’re talking about. “Oh baby” he sighs, shaking his head as he pulls you back into his arms. You weren't supposed to know about this, even less hear it fully, not until he died, that is. “I didn’t want to scare or worry you. I’m sorry you had to hear that– it was just… a precaution.” he murmurs as you cling to him, the remnants of your tears dampening his shirt.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice weak and muffled against his chest. “I just– It was hard to hear. I don’t want to think about losing you”

“I don’t want to think about leaving you either,” he says softly, pulling back just enough to look at your face again. His thumb brushes away the last of your tears when you look at him, his gaze over you filled with a mix of sorrow and unwavering love that you manage to feel just by looking into his dark, warm eyes. “But I need you to know how much you mean to me, no matter what happens”

“Poe,” you scoff-whine. “I know. You’re pretty transparent about it already” you grin. 

When he’s not saying it explicitly, he always has a hand on you, always at least leaves a kiss over your cheek or forehead when he’s not full-on kissing you, and always makes sure to bring you back those jogan fruit cakes you like from Coruscant when he has to go there, and just the way he looks at you has you aware that he loves you, so he really doesn’t need to do that much, but he’s Poe Dameron, so it’s a prerogative.

“I happen to be a very romantic man” he jokes, smiling when he sees you chuckle and shake your head the way you do when he pulls stupid lines. “I just wanted you to hear it from me one last time sweetheart.”

“You and your dramatic flair” you tease lightly, gripping onto his jacket as you let out a soft groan. “You couldn’t just leave a normal message, could you?”

“You know, subtlety isn’t my strong suit” he grins, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But seriously, I’m sorry you had to hear it like this. It was meant for dramatic times, not when I was about to ask you if you wanted to get dinner off base like now.”

You snort up a laugh, your arms wrapping around his neck. “You do owe me dinner after that.” 

“I know, right?” he scoffs, an amused smile over his face. “And it means I get to spend more of my alive time with you, so–” he teases, his fingers gently rubbing your back. “Stop that, it’s not funny” you frown, playfully hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “–Plenty of time to remind you that I love you” his hand squeezes yours gently.

You pull him closer, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that is both tender and intense, slow at first but deepening when the fear, the relief, the overwhelming love you feel for him step at the front of your mind. His hand moves from your hip to cup your face, his thumb caressing the skin of your cheeks rough from the tears.

When you break apart, your foreheads are still linked, his fingers gently tracing your face, your breaths mingling. “I’m joking about this, but I promise I’ll do my best for you to not have to listen to this recording again anytime soon.” 

“Mh, hope ‘anytime soon’ means a few decades at least”

“I promise. I love you too much to leave you like this. And I know I’ll look sexy when my hair turns gray” he adds with a playful smile.

You laugh, the sound breaking the lingering tension and bringing a sense of normalcy back. “Oh, definitely” you grin, raking your fingers through his curls. “Most handsome silver fox in the galaxy.” 

Poe smiles, kissing you again, softly. You can very clearly feel BB–8’s presence when you pull away, his needy beeps attesting of his need for attention.

“Yeah, alright buddy” you sigh, turning back to the droid to finish up his repair.

“So he’s okay?” Poe asks, approaching the workbench. 

“He’s all fine, good as new” you smile. “Hey, try running a diagnostic”

The droid runs his internal check, beeping happily once he’s done and everything seems to be alright.

“See?” you turn to Poe. “All good.” you grin at him, glad to have something concrete to smile about after that emotional rollercoaster you went through.  

“Thank you, really. I knew you’d fix him up” Poe declares, smiling as he watches BB roll off the workbench and onto the floor, navigating around your feet. “And I was serious about that dinner, by the way,” he says, watching you putting away your tools and tidying up your workbench. “We could both use a break.”

“Yeah,” you agree, scoffing. 

Poe’s hand finds yours as you turn the light off and leave the workshop, your fingers tangling as you walk through the corridors of the base, finding your way out. 

“Hey,” Poe calls, pulling you closer as you walk. You hum, looking at him, noticing the slight hint of worry in his eyes. “You really think I’d look hot with gray hair?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Absolutely baby”

A content smile grows over his face, and he nods. “Cool.”

—

any and every comment/reblog is greatly appreciated!!

star wars taglist:

@lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift

@whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry

@jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious

@stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @pigeonmama

[dinogoofymutated]

Happy halloween everybody!!!!

Well, Happy early halloween, that is! I hope everyone is having a good day! As some of you know, I'm choosing to celebrate my 1000 follower celebration in the incoming months!! (well, technically like 1300 right now, I'm a little late 😭) I'm doing something especially special for this event, and I'll be letting all of you guys customise your fics!!

So the way this is going to work will be fairly simple. I will be writing these fics exclusively in the incoming months due to the fact I've been extra short on time lately, Overall, I will be posting four customised x-men fics in the month of October (once every week) Plus a special guest appearance on halloween day!

Sounds good, right? Well, you might be wondering, "Goofy, how in the world are these customisable?" And let me tell you!!! I will be creating seven writing prompts for all of you to choose from! The first three fics will all have two prompts per poll, with the winning prompt being the one used for that fic in particular!

But don't worry if the prompt you voted for doesn't win, it won't be lost to fanfic limbo completely! The fourth fic in october will have four prompts to choose from, the three losers + a brand new prompt! That way each of the losers gets a chance at redemption!

Once a prompt is selected, I will then create another poll to choose what character will be chosen for that fic! Not every character in X-men will be on every single poll, as candidates will be chosen by prompt compatibility. Once a character is selected, there's also a chance I will create a third and final poll choosing what sort of halloweeny character they should be!

These polls will be posted in the weeks leading up to october, with my hope being that I will have them all finished before october actually starts. I'm very excited to do this with Y'all, as I definitely have not done an event like this before!! Y'all better help me stick to it!

(Also, I have most of the characters I plan to put in the polls in the tags, but if you have someone in mind and want them to be considered as a candidate, please reblog, reply, or send me an ask!)

Poll 1: Haunted Mansion vs. Hocus Pocus!

Prompt one: Haunted Mansion

You've recently moved into an old, spooky mansion that your great-aunt left you in her will. It's been uninhabited for years but is strangely well-kept. You're sure you live here alone, but every once in a while you can't shake the feeling of being watched…

Prompt two: Hocus Pocus

You've been working at the Harkness museum of witchery for about six months now. One night after you get off of work, you decide to take a walk through the graveyard across the street to look at the stones. You find a very strange cat stuck in a trap in the process, and let the poor thing out. Turns out, he's not actually a cat at all, but working at a witch museum has its perks, and you find yourself helping the kitty regain it's true form!

Winning selection: Haunted Mansion!

Character poll:

Candidates: Nightcrawler, Quicksilver, Cyclops,

Winning selection: Nightcrawler!

Poll 2: Howling vs. Bloody halloween

Prompt Three: Howling

Something has been spotted in the woods behind your house. You don’t believe any of the bullshit all these reporters and wannabe horror vloggers are pushing, all you know is that you really want them off your land. Until you have a personal encounter with this creature, that is. What is the thing that has seemingly moved into your neck of the woods, and does it have anything to do with your new neighbor?

Prompt Four: Bloody Halloween

A bat flies through your window one night, and although you're dreadfully afraid of rabies and scared to touch the little thing, it's in really bad shape and you can't stand by and just let it die. You spend the next few days nursing the little guy back to health, when one day he up and disappears. The next night you go out with your friends, and feel like you keep seeing a familiar pair of eyes in the crowd.

Winning selection: Bloody Halloween!

Character poll:

Candidates: Gambit, Quicksilver.

Winning selection: Gambit!

Poll 3: Season of the Witch vs. Halloween town!

Prompt Five: Season of the Witch

You’ve always considered the rumors about your family’s witchy and magical past to be fictional, absolute nonsense. Well, you did, until you found yourself accidentally bound to someone who’s more or less your familiar. Neither of you particularly wants this, so you focus on whatever magical skills you managed to inherit on breaking the bond- but is that really what you want?

Prompt Six: Halloweentown

You've won the title of best pumpkin carver for the past five Halloweens, which is a big deal in Halloween town! The Sixth year rolls around, and you're determined to keep your title. Until some dude accidentally smashes your masterpiece mere steps from the festival. You make him swear to you he'd make up for it next year. You've almost forgotten about it when the end of August rolls around, only to find him right at your doorstep.

Winning Selection: Season of the Witch!

Character Poll:

Candidates: TBA

Winning selection: tba

Poll 4: Redemption round

This poll was a chance for the losers to win, and one fresh prompt to round them out

Prompt 8: Practical Magic

You recently found out that your family is cursed for any man you love to die. You’re devastated when you find this out the day after you realize you’re deeply in love, and make it your mission to keep your boyfriend alive. Shenanigans and ridiculous conflicts ensue, and after a very long couple of weeks- He reveals to you that he’s been immortal the whole time.

Winner: Practical Magic!

Character Poll:

Candidates: TBA

[lincolndjarin]

ride cowgirl! ★ (agent whiskey x reader)

(18+ mdni) pairings : agent whiskey x afab!reader summary : you like to make bets with your coworker for simple things, what happens when he decides he wants to raise the stakes? warnings & tags : no use of y/n, smut, sort of dubcon there's reluctance but everything is consensual, porn with plot, this ended up actually being mostly plot lmao, p in v sex, unprotected sex, forced orgasm, light bondage, use of restraints, fully clothed sex, pet names, size kink, praise, whiskey big dick truther word count : 2.3k a/n : first new fic post on the new blog!!! I had so much fun with this thank you so much to the person who requested it !! one of my google forms anon requests was for anything whiskey!! (I put the request at the end) this was the direction I went in >:) this was meant to be a drabble but I got carried away immediately. enjoy!! (this was edited super fast bc i'm tired after work lmao, so apologies for any mistakes)

It was a stupid deal. 

And you never should have made it. 

Of course it’s a little late for that now, when he’s already tying your hands behind your back with his ridiculous flask belt. 

“This wasn’t a part of the original agreement.” You grumble as he pulls the leather tight. That smug smile on his face. 

“You said, anyway I wanted it. This is how I want it.” He leans back against the headboard to admire his work. His eyes focused on the way your chest pushes out now with your arms forced behind you until you cough to get his attention. He takes his time before letting his eyes crawl back up to your face, still grinning ear to ear. 

“Can we just get this over with?” You groan. 

“Oh come on, gorgeous.” He’s loosening his tie, his smile never falters. “I already told you we don’t have to do this. I’ve offered you several outs and you keep turning them down. Besides,” He flashes his teeth at you in a toothy grin. “it’s no fun for me if you don’t want it.” 

That’s exactly what he’d said when you’d made this deal a week ago. 

“I think I want your hat.” You said rather confidently. The two of you had a long standing rivalry. You were placing bets nearly every week at this point. The winner was whoever had the most successful missions. It had started off simple. The loser has to take the other out to dinner, or pay for drinks after a night out. 

After a few months of that you’d gone out with Whiskey more times then you’d gone on any dates. 

Then you decided to raise the stakes. 

The other person's paycheck that week, a piece of tech the other had, at one point your mothers phone number was on the line. (Thankfully that week you had won.)

This week you were feeling lucky. So you pointed at his cowboy hat, he was never seen without. 

“If I win I want your hat.” You cock your head to the side, smirking. 

“You have a hat already.” He was typing up a mission report, you had come in as you always did on Monday mornings. 

“Nice observation agent, how’d you figure that out?” You took a pen from the mug on his desk, rapidly clicking it in an attempt to get under his skin. “That doesn’t change my mind, I don’t want my hat. I want yours.”

He sighs in irritation, taking the pen from you and moving the mug to the other side of his computer. 

“And if you win you can have mine.” You flick the rin of his hat as you say it and he finally turns to glare at you. 

“I don’t want your hat, I already have a hat.” 

“Someone’s in a bad mood today.” You whisper theatrically as he turns back to his work. 

“I’ve got a lot of paperwork to get through darlin’ so let’s hurry this up.” 

“I already told you. I want your hat, if you don’t want mine then pick something else.” 

He turns in his desk chair completely to face you now. Annoyance visible on his face. 

“If I win, then you wear my hat.” As he speaks he cracks the first smile you’ve seen on him all morning. 

“You aren’t making any sense, are you still waking up? Do you want me to go get you some coffee?” You laugh but he leans forward. Even though you were up on the desk and he was in his chair he was still nearly face to face with you. 

“Darlin’ you can be so cute sometimes.” You have no idea what he means but his voice has a condescending tone that makes you scowl. 

“Stop being coy and just clarify.” His first signs of a smile turn into a full blown grin. 

“Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.” He whispers, you’re about to slap him for making such a crass joke but he looks completely serious. 

“That’s not funny. What do you really want?” You pray he doesn’t see the goosebumps on your arms at his words, you spend so much time with him yet he’s never made a pass at you. You’ve watched him hit on countless women these last few months but he’s never turned his attention towards you quite like this. 

“I told you. You win, you get my hat. I win, you wear it.” He has to be messing with you. You want to believe that he’s just trying to push your buttons but you know purely based on the way he looks at you that he couldn’t be more serious. 

It’s an insane offer. But it’s not like you haven’t thought about it. Who wouldn’t be curious about what he must whisper to get women to come home with him, what he must promise them. 

Stop. You can’t seriously be considering this. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously I’m not doing that.” You get up to leave. Embarrassed by the entire situation. 

“You win, you get my hat and the Bronco. I win, you wear the hat.” You’re already walking out when he says it and you stumble a bit before turning back to stare at him slack jawed. 

“You’d give me your car?” The disbelief in your tone is palpable. 

“If you won.”

And you just couldn’t say no. It was too good of an offer. 

So you set up ground rules. 

You wanted your clothes to stay on, at least as much as possible for the situation. Which he agreed to, so long as the two of you did it “how ever he wanted.” You didn’t realize until much later what that entailed. And of course there was the fact that he wanted you to enjoy it. An odd request all things considered, but he said it was important to him that you had a good time. 

“It's no fun for me if you don’t want it.” 

He had insisted that if you weren’t into it that he would stop, especially if he thought you were faking it. 

Once everything was decided the two of you shook hands. 

And then, by some cruel trick of fate, you had fumbled not one, not two, not even three, but all of your missions that week. A feat that has never happened to you in the entire history of your employment with Statesman. 

So that’s how you ended up like this. 

Fully clothed other than your discarded panties, straddling your most annoying coworker, who’s sitting underneath you, dressed the same as always except his pants are unzipped, with his belt around your wrists. 

“Just let me know when you’re ready darlin’, take your time. I can wait all night, I've got nothing else planned.” 

You could tell him no. You should. You just don't want to.

The second you did he would take the belt off your wrists, hand you your panties (the ones you pretended you didn’t see him shove in his pocket when you threw them on the bed,) and send you on your way. And he’d do it all with a smile. 

Of course you can’t let that happen, that would just mean that he’s won, again. 

He wouldn’t even tell anyone, not that anyone knew about the deal to begin with. But he’d never tease you for bailing, he’d just make you live with the knowledge that you bit off more than you could chew. 

And worst of all, if you had won, you know for a fact that he would have handed over the keys to his car with zero hesitation. 

So you roll your eyes and nod. 

He clicks his tongue, leaning forward, his hands rub your thighs, pushing your skirt up further. 

“Tell me you want it sweetheart.” He taunts, making you sigh loudly. 

It’s not that you don’t want it. God knows you want it. You crave it. But you can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“I want it.” You say, almost comically emotionless which has him frowning, sitting up straighter. 

“Let’s just call it. You clearly don’t, and I’m not interested in an unenthusiastic partner.” He begins to lift you off of his hips but you push against him, properly sitting yourself in his lap. 

“Give me a second, Jesus. I’m not even warmed up, just- I need a minute. We’re doing this.” There’s a determination in your voice that stops his efforts.

There are a few seconds of silence before he speaks again. 

“Do you want me to… warm you up?” It’s the first time he’s dropped the cocky facade since you started this ordeal. 

“No. I think I’m okay. Let’s do this.” You nod a few times, almost like you’re hyping yourself up. The two of you hadn’t factored in a lot of the logistical details of this deal, more specifically foreplay. 

As he pulls himself out of his jeans you’re starting to wish that you had. He isn’t even completely hard yet and you aren’t entirely sure how you’re going to take all of it. 

He unceremoniously spits into his hand before gripping himself at the base, steadily stroking himself. 

It’s like he’s a porn star and you’ve got front row seats to a private show. 

You’re close enough that when he leans forward, softly grunting, his face brushes against yours. His cock becoming fully erect in his hand, you hope he doesn’t hear you gulp. 

As he jerks himself off, his free hand reaches up, removing his hat before placing it onto your head. It’s a little too big for you so it tilts to one side. He gives you a lopsided grin before picking up his pace. You watch with wide eyes. 

He’s too big. 

In every way possible. 

He’s too long, he’s too thick, he’s simply too much. 

And you can’t tell him that. He’s smug enough as is, if you say “actually nevermind. you’re dick’s too big I couldn’t possibly fuck you.” he’ll be even more insufferable than he already is. But much to your chagrin he already knows what you’re thinking. 

“You still sure you don’t want me to warm you up?” His nerves are clearly gone as he chuckles before hissing through his teeth. His thumb brushes over his pink, weeping tip. 

“I’m fine. Ready when you are.” Not true. 

“Maybe I could free your wrists. You can do it yourself if you don’t want me to do it.” He’s reaching behind you and you once again halt his efforts. 

“No. We’re doing this your way.” 

You’re certainly overestimating your abilities, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

You scoot forward in his lap until his cock is resting between your thighs. You sit up on your knees and he lines himself up at your entrance. 

“Last chance to back out, sugar.” With that final taunt from him you sink down onto him without warning. Barely taking more than an inch before you drop your chin to your chest so he can’t see your face as he simultaneously leans back to rest against the headboard once more. 

It feels like he’s splitting you in half. 

His hands return to your thighs. His palms splayed against you as his thumbs rub comforting circles against your flesh. 

The sting is all you can think of but buried beneath it all is a heat that threatens to consume you. 

You lift your head to look at him. He’s lost a bit of his bravado as he runs his fingers through his hair. You don’t give him (or yourself to be fair) a chance to adjust. You have a desperate need to watch him unravel despite the ache between your legs. 

You take a deep breath before you take nearly half of him in one rock of your hips. 

The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, the heat in your stomach is bubbling over as you let out a moan you’ve never heard from yourself before. His grip on your thighs is tight enough now that you’re certain you’ll have to wear a longer skirt tomorrow. 

“Christ darlin’.” He stutters out, his eyes are squeezed shut and you couldn’t be more proud. 

“Is this enthusiastic enough for you?” You manage to grunt out between your small gasps. 

He mumbles something that sounds like a yes.

You have to wait longer this time before moving again, you wait until the pain eases itself away and is replaced with that heat you’ve been pursuing. Only then do you try taking more of him, you don’t manage all of it but you take most of him after a bit of effort. The entire time his eyes are trained on you, a look of admiration on his face. 

“You are something else, gorgeous.” He whispers.

His low drawl shoots straight to your core and god you’re sure he knows it. He whimpers when your walls clench around him.

You haven’t even started properly riding him and you’re close. 

The way he fills you has you seeing stars. You would love to try and banter with him right now, tease him, but you’re too far gone. Too focused on the way his tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he lets out a soft whine before squeezing your hips.

“Let me touch you, please.” He mutters breathlessly.

You aren’t one to deny good southern manners. 

You give him a nod and he wastes no time as he rubs your clit with the pads of his fingers frantically, like he’s trying to make you cum as fast as possible. You’re confused as to why for only a moment because your climax approaches so rapidly it nearly knocks the wind out of you. Your hips stutter as you sit, finally fully impaled on his length, in an instant your vision is a searing hot white. His hat tilts forward on your head, briefly covering your eyes. You’re left breathless in his lap, when you come down from your high he’s grinning at you.

“I win again darlin’.” 

You groan as you recall the conversation you’d had right before he had tied your hands behind your back. 

“If I finish first you can have my hat, if you do, then I get to finish inside you.” 

“Absolutely not.”

“If I finish first you can have the Bronco.”

“...Fine.”

a/n : requester ily, thank youuu

[animementrash]

AOT Veterans red flags Pt.1

Characters: Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, Hange Zoe

Tags: headcanons, implied established relationship, annoying things I think they would do, they/them pronouns for Hange <3

A/N: Listen, I don't know about you but I can't enjoy anything without trying to find something bad about it No wonder why I've been in therapy for 4 years, so this is me trying to find annoying things they would do when in a relationship. I will also post the cute/nice things version soon, so don't worry! :p

Levi Ackerman:

Will snap at you when mad. Even if you manage to get him to date you and even if he really loves you, when he’s mad, he doesn’t make exceptions on anyone and will most likely snap at you if you’re nearby or if you’re the reason he’s upset.

Will give you the cold shoulder after arguing. He may be a strong and composed man but most definitely lacks of some emotional intelligence so if you have a fight his first response is to back out and ignore you until he’s sorted his mind. It may be hours, days or even weeks until he starts reaching out to you normally.

Will never admit he’s wrong. Following with the arguing theme, if you guys are fighting about something he is wrong about, he will rather leave you talking to yourself than to admit he’s wrong. He may reach out to you and admit it afterwards but will never do it at the moment you’re arguing.

Will expect you to adapt to his lifestyle and not the other way around. He’s been very independent since a young age and his lifestyle is ruled by very specific ideals and schedules, which means he will most likely expect you to understand and adapt to said rhythm instead of asking for your way of doing things or even try to adapt to yours.

Will not “get out of his shell” for you. He’s a very reserved, quiet and simple man; no, he will not eventually start to like going out and meeting new people and no he will not suddenly change his attitude to be a friendly sunshine just because you’re like that or you want him to be like that. He is who he is and will not change for anyone, take it or leave it.

If he must choose between Erwin or you, he will choose Erwin. This isn’t even a question for him, and it’s not even an Eruri kind of thing, it’s just that for the most part of his life his only reason to keep going has been Erwin’s ideals, the only constant in his life has been Erwin and for him to choose something or someone else above that is almost impossible.

Will not like the things you like just to make you happy. If you like drinking coffee instead of tea it’s alright for him, but don’t expect him to start liking it too just because you offered him a cup. Also, if you are a social person and love to go out and befriend everyone, he will not stop you but won’t go out of his way to be friendly either.

Will most likely ignore you if he gets too overwhelmed. He will not do it on purpose or without a warning but if he’s tired and you keep on rambling about something that may not necessarily be interesting to him, he won’t hesitate on asking you to stop talking or to let you know he’s not interested.

Erwin Smith:

King of gaslighting. Erwin is such a great strategist, he’s smart and analytical, of course he will find a way to make you believe you were wrong when arguing even if he’s actually the one who messed up.

Will neglect the relationship more than expected. Whether you’re dating or married, you really should understand the role he plays inside the walls. He is the Commander of the scouting legion and will almost always be drowning in work, he may not like to do it but will sometimes put aside your relationship for the sake of his job, even if this makes you upset.

Won’t tolerate too much bs. Another practical man who’s been alone most of his life and already has everything figured out the way it works for him. If he dates you and you start to try to change his way of living or his routines, he will break the relationship without hesitation. He needs someone as mature and practical as him who will understand him without fussing about trivial things.

Will flirt and court other ladies if needed. I previously posted a HC about Erwin knowing he’s handsome and using that to his advantage sometimes and I firmly believe he would keep doing so even after he is in a relationship, he may not go all the way and cheat on you for the sake of the scouts but will probably accept an invitation to dinner or a flirty kiss on the cheek if he knows that can be beneficial to the legion. He isn’t trying to make you jealous or upset you, but don’t expect him to pass on an opportunity if the time is right.

King of mansplaining. He does not do it on purpose, I promise. But very often he will explain the most basic thing to you as if you were a toddler who just learned how to talk. He will also use that slow and condescending voice when explaining things that makes your blood boil.

Is a very jealous partner. Yes, he may flirt with a lady on a ball but that’s just because it’s for the sake of the scouts; your sweet greeting to that seller at the market isn’t saving the world so why do you need to greet him in such way?

Will leave to expeditions without saying goodbye. This behavior may appear only the first two or three times after you get together, this man is afraid of dying outside the walls and leave you waiting for him forever, so what does his smart yet dumb brain tells him to do? Leave without saying goodbye. that way if he does come back, he can always apologize and if he doesn’t, well, hopefully you’re too mad at him to notice he didn’t make it back home this time.

Hange Zoe:

Will prioritize their projects above anything. And yes, that includes you. If you’re expecting them to push everything away and come running to you just because they’ve been secluded in that office for too long, think again. Because they won’t.

Does not understand boundaries at all. Oh, you’re sleeping after a tiring shift? Don’t care, come look at this cool rock I found. Do you have an irrational fear of titans? Close your eyes, I will show you something so cool you will forget you fear them! (They will take you to see a real titan up close).

Will look down at you if you don’t understand them. They will constantly ramble about things that sometimes may be too complicated to understand, and if you dare to tell them that, they will stop talking and go find “someone who’s smart enough to understand”.

Hygiene isn’t their priority. They will run and hug you even if they just came back from training and they’re sweaty and smelly. Your clothes will never be clean again because they will randomly wipe their hands on whatever surface is near and, sadly for you, that will be you most of the time. “No, I don’t need to shower just yet, I did it a few days ago”

Will zone out when you’re talking. This isn’t necessarily their fault; they are just so invested on that new formation they suggested for the next expedition and can’t stop thinking about it that your childhood story about that bruise isn’t worth the time.

Will steal food from your plate without asking. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were saving that piece of meat as your last bite, it seemed so delicious that I thought I’d take it before it went cold”.  “What do you mean it’s disgusting if I put my hand on your soup? I just wanted to fish that tiny potato and eat it!”.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The DUFF 9

Warnings: groping, insecurity, food and body issues, manipulation, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥♥

Image credit (I want to give dues where due but don’t want the creator to keep getting tagged in my posts as I have been approached by some before that they don’t want me in their notifs)

You don't know what to wear. You don't even know where you're going. All you know is Curtis will be there soon.

You take a middling approach to your outfit. A nice circle skirt with a simple blouse. It won't be too much for somewhere casual or too slobbish for a more upscale venue.

You grab your purse and clutch your phone tight as you head out. Downstairs, you wait in the shade of the building. You bounce impatiently, checking over and over for a message.

The long you wait, the more uncertain you feel. The day before was intense and you start to think it's all a big joke. What if he's not coming? What if he'd just been playing with you? That would make a lot more sense.

A red car pulls up at the curb but you hardly notice. Not until the window rolls down and your name drifts through. You flick your eyes up and smile.

You follow the walkway and cross the sidewalk. As you approach, the locks click loudly. You let yourself into the car and pull your skirt out of the way of the door as you close it.

"You look great, bunny," Curtis greets and you flinch as he leans over to peck your lips, "ready for lunch?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," you reply as you nervously hug your bag.

"Before we go," he reaches into his jacket pocket, dark denim undone over a black button-up, "gotta put this on."

He takes out a black blindfold and you blanch. What? Why?

"It's a surprise, bun bun," he says, "I got it all planned out. Just you and me."

"I don't know…" you utter.

"Our first date has to be perfect," he continues as if he's not even heard you, "better than any date you've had before."

You don't say anything. There's a gleam in his eyes that suggests there isn't anything you can say. You just have to get through whatever he has planned. Besides, it's romantic, right? A surprise. Your friends would gush if they ever found a guy who put in that sort of effort.

You let him put the cloth over your eyes and he knots it firmly, adjusting it so your vision is completely obscured. His fingertips brush along your cheek and neck and he squeezes your shoulder.

"Relax, I got it from here," he assures you, "you're gonna love this. Promise."

He steers away from the curb and you lean into the seat with the motion of the car. It's a strange feeling, one that disorients you. Your heart pounds behind your ears and your skin turns to ice. Should you be going along with this?

You squirm, resisting the urge to pull down the blindfold with each turn. He stops several times, only idling before carrying on. As the journey stretches on, you start to wonder where exactly you're going. Well, it's really all you've been thinking.

It feels close to an hour before he finally shuts off the engine. You can hear trees rustling and birds chirping. The sun is warm through the car window and adds to the sheen of sweat forming over you.

You reach for the cloth but Curtis stops you. He grabs your hand, rubbing your knuckles, and bids you to stay.

"Gotta get set up, bunny, just a few minutes," he kisses your temple before he gets out of the car.

You sit stiff and unsure. You hear him open the back door, then shut it, the muffle of activity just outside the car. Your anticipation grows to anxiety.

When he opens your door, you wince. He unbuckles your seatbelt and guides you out of the car. You step onto soft ground and he leads you further, stopping and angling you around.

He gets behind you and unties the knot. As the fabric falls away, you can't help but gasp. There's a plaid blanket spread over the lush grass and a basket atop it with an assortment of pillows. There are several dishes already set out for the picnic and a bottle of wine.

"Wow, you did all this?" You ask. Suddenly you feel very stupid. And guilty.

"Sit, bunny," he gestures to the round pink pillow with the frilly edge.

You sputter. You're blown away by it all. He's a bit overbearing but you've never had anyone do so much for you. Hell, you've never even been on a proper date. Maybe yesterday was just a fluke.

You sit and he lowers himself across from you. He grabs the bottle of wine and presents it.

"I got some rose, I wasn't sure your preference but it pairs well with hummus and soft cheeses," he explains.

"Oh, nice," you fix your skirt as it rides up, "wow, I can't believe you did all this."

"Of course, bunny. And after, we can go for a nice walk by the river."

"This is such a beautiful spot, how did you find it?"

"Hm, I like to explore. Don't get a lot of that these days. So quiet out here. I usually bring a book but… happy to have company."

Your cheeks burn and you fidget. You can't believe you were so worked up over this. You feel awful for immediately painting him in such a bad light. You're just not used to the attention, it isn't fair to project that on him.

He takes a glass and fills it with the blush wine and offers it to you. You accept it with a breathy thank you and watch a butterfly flutter by. You couldn't have ever dreamed up anything so perfect.

"You look beautiful, bunny," he corks the wine, "I like that skirt," he sets the bottle aside and touches your hem, "maybe we'll have some time for dessert."

[poetrysmackdown]

some informal thoughts

hello! hope the holiday season has been kind to all of you. and i hope all my jewish followers had a lovely hanukkah! anyways, since i said a few months ago that i’d pick poetry smackdown back up sometime around this time of year, i thought i should make a post. the gist of it is that i’m still quite busy, i have a break that’s about three weeks shorter than I was planning on, and i don’t currently have the mental bandwidth required to read, contemplate, and sort through poem submissions in a way that does justice to them, even if i were to recruit some friends to help out. since running a tournament format requires at least five weeks of continued engagement once it’s underway, and since i’m not at capacity to offer that right now due to the change in my schedule, i’m gonna have to bow out for now. sad bc i was looking forward to it!

my hope is that i’ll have some more time over the summer to hunker down with it, in which case you’ll be hearing from me. it’ll frankly depend on the kind of job i land in for the summer, but i find that my unemployed spirit can typically keep me doing stupid shit regardless of workload...to a point. i don’t want to make any promises because i don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up just to let them down again LOL. i do admit the amount of exposure the first tournament got has made me feel like more of a perfectionist this time around, doubly because i don’t feel that i’m very suited to being a public online presence (even a relatively quite small one)—i’m bad enough at responding to emails for my own real life responsibilities, let alone tumblr asks for the silly responsibilities i invent for myself lol. that’s not to say i no longer want to do it, or i don’t enjoy it, or even that i don’t feel capable of making a really interesting bracket—just that if i am working to put something new together, and if people are taking the time to submit poems they care about, then i don’t want to half-ass it.

my second admission is something like this. I made the original bracket as a celebration of poetry and our relationships to it. yes it was silly and competitive, and the poems were very tumblr, but still, celebration was the intention—I wanted to have conversations about poetry. I stand by the bracket format as a fun and valuable way to foster conversations about poetry, but truthfully, the poems i’m wanting to have conversations about right now—the poems that we should be talking about right now—are ones that i'm not comfortable putting in a bracket. I reblogged The Baffler’s Poems from Palestine collection on here earlier, and Najwan Darwish’s “Who Remembers The Armenians?”, which I still often find repeating through my head when I'm traveling from one place to another, walking home or riding the bus. I came across this beautiful thread recently where people have been translating Dr. Refaat Alareer’s “If I Must Die” into their own languages (this just makes my translator's heart sing!!!!!!). @havingapoemwithyou has been posting some great poems from and for Palestine as well—check out their tag here.

There's always more to add, and I'll be posting more on here as I come across it, but that's what I feel anyone should be focusing on right now when it comes to poetry. i think poetry can be an escape but it should never be a distraction. does that make sense? i wouldn't be against doing a one-off poll here or there, but it feels weird to be making a tournament for poetry right now, or anytime soon. i feel like what free time i have right now is still best utilized helping my friends with organizing in the real world. and god, a bit off-topic but while I'm talking, fuck poetry foundation—I have so much respect for all the poets keeping up the boycott, because while i think it's a simple decision, it's not always an easy one (Aurielle Lucier discussed that here).

anyways, if you read all of this, thank you for your time!! I could go on and on, but really this was just meant to be a message telling y'all that there won't be another tournament for a while lol. even so i'll be trying to use this small silly platform as best i can until palestine is free because that's the absolute least i can do.

[cecillias-garden]

Im thinking a lot about LOA this morning, in part thanks to @creature-wizard and their posts about the subject, and I think there are a lot of you in the tags that may be very hurt by what your seeing, but I want to talk as someone who practiced loa for a time, and has since moved on to other practices, other ideas.

A lot has been said about the appeal of LOA and other forms of "new age" mysticism for those who are in hard times, for those who are struggling and looking for hope, but there's an underlying central idea to New Age mysticism that I think needs to be touched on - one that I think a lot of us have trouble talking about.

The idea that the nature and the universe is fundamentally good.

We see it in the way "all natural" remedies are pushed, in the way that positive thinking and manifesting is sold as a way to be in-tune with the fundamental peace and understanding of the universe. We're told that being in-tune with the good intentions of the universe as the solution to our troubles. Let go and float downstream. Ask and you shall receive.

But all of this relies on that good intent to be real.

All of it relies on their being a structure, guidance.

We think we need that structure to make sense of all of the chaos around us.

Even recently it gets hard for me not to fall into the trap of magical thinking of aligning one's self with the intentions of the universe, to be one with God or source or whatever you may call it, but I'm sorry to say that these "intentions", this alignment, isn't real.

Hardships will come to you. They will hit you when you least expect it. They will hit you when you least deserve it. Some will be natural, and others manmade. They will come and it will hurt. God, it will hurt. I should know, I've seen it. I've felt it. I've lived it, and no amount of alignment or spiritual thinking was enough.

It is not the job of the universe or any god to shield us from hardship. It is not up to any movement to ensure our happiness. Happiness is something to be made for ourselves, in spite of our struggles. Its up to us to separate ourselves from what we think we deserve, and work instead towards what we want one step at a time.

It isn't going to be easy.

I'm fact, I'm afraid it will be quite difficult.

But there is hope without LOA. You can find that hope everywhere you go.

We are humans, a social species meant to rely on each other.

Let others rely on you, and allow yourself to rely on them when you need it.

And if you are to practice any sort of spirituality, understand this:

The goal of spiritual practice is in the practice, not the result. If you like meditation, if you like casting spells or feel good when you pray, keep doing that.

The goal of this post is by no means to cast doubt on spiritually as a whole.

Instead, think of it as a gentle warning, from someone who may have once been like you.

LOA advocates will claim you need the practice to be happy. They will tell you that things are so very simple. They will tell you that all you need is to align yourself with your happiness and everything will be okay.

You deserve better than that. You deserve the truth. You deserve to be able to look the world in the eye.

Happiness is something that each and every one of us has to discover for themselves. There are places to start - setting strong boundaries, setting goals, and finding fulfillment through whatever work or play we might enjoy. But you don't need someone to tell you how to be happy, and that includes myself. All I ask is that you listen to what others are saying, and understand why loa can be so harmful. There's a lot of nuance to the world and how things work, but if you made it this far... I think you can find yourself on a pretty good path.

I will give one parting gift that helps me. Take it if you want, but you don't need to if it doesn't fit with you. Its just a phrase that I find helpful whenever things go wrong:

"Well, that sucked. Now how can we make it better?"

[snowblossomreads]

Day 18: Blankets and Snuggles

Pairing: Sinclair Bryant x Fem!Reader

Summary: In where Y/n and Sinclair are now dating and continue their baking tradition from the previous year.

Tag(s)/Warning(s): baking and eating, snuggles and kisses, sweet treats and hugs, just everything warm and fuzzy in this one folks!

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: I'm back with more Sinclair LOL. He has been getting a lot of love and it's what he deserves 😣😣 So enjoy as he finally gets to have his snacks in peace with his favourite person (y/n aka you bc you are a lovely human being ! yeah that's right i'm talking to you person that's reading this 🥰🥰)

"Where have you been [Y/n]?! I've been waiting all day for you, worried sick about where you’d gone off to," Sinclair complained as he watched her take her coat and boots off to not track mud in his home. "You can't tell me you're going to come and bake with me and then not tell me when. It is a crime you know!" He huffed, as he followed her into the kitchen like a lost puppy who had finally found its owner.

"A crime? Really?" She teased, amusement bubbling up in her chest as she went to put the bag of supplies that she had bought with her on the kitchen counter.

Turning around, she saw the slight pout on his thin lips, and she couldn't stifle the giggle at how dejected he looked. This only made his frown grow deeper. Of course Sinclair would be the one to get upset when he was promised snacks and didn't get them on time. But honestly, who wouldn’t be?

"It is! See, this is why you should move in with me," he explained while [Y/n] meandered towards him and threw her arms around his waist in a hug. She swayed side as she looked up at him and how his eyes were bright and passionate as he laid out his reasoning. "Then you can always be around, and we can cook together and cuddle, lots of cuddles! And then you don't have to come out in this dreadful weather when you visit me. Because you'll already be with me! Doesn't that sound nice?"

"It does, but it also sounds like some sort of ploy though! I bet it's just because you want me to bake my world-famous cookies for you every week, innit?"

"Hmph of course not! You know I can have more than food on my mind when it comes to you," he sulked for a moment before his exuberant energy returned. “Though you do make wonderful cookies! And I love them. But I love you more!"

"Aww I love you too Sinclair," she squealed as he kissed her all over her face to prove how much he loved her. "And I know love, I'm just teasing! I know that brilliant mind of yours is always working on something," she beamed causing him to radiate, proud at how much his mind really did work. "But I don't know, my contract isn't up yet for my flat and I want to stay until it's over," she explained, and she could see the sad look that reappeared on his features which made her heart also feel a bit blue. "Buuuut," she drawled out, causing his attention to perk up. "How about we bake and you try to convince me why moving in with you is a good idea. And maybe just maybe I'll give it some more consideration."

"Deal!" He shouted with a grin. "Well, come on what are we waiting for? Let's start because I'm starving!"

Unwrapping themselves from each other, [Y/n] and Sinclair continued their newly instated tradition of baking each year for the holidays. It had started the year before when she had come to spread some cheer on his first post-divorce holiday. One thing led to another and well, not only did they have a new tradition but they had a new relationship as boyfriend and girlfriend!

Last year was gingerbread cookies, and this year would be the same though with some additional ones. Snickerdoodle and thumbprint cookies! All of them were pretty simple to make considering they had the same base just with some extra things done to them in the middle, and she thought it a fun project for them both.

Of course, she had to keep Sinclair from eating the raw pastry again but that was par for the course.

"It smells so nice," he whined as she quickly took the mixing bowl from him. "If it smells nice why can't I eat it!"

"Sinclair please no! Remember what I told you last time and all the other times! I don't want to bring you to hospital if you get sick from eating raw pastry," she chided in good nature before turning back to him and seeing he was up to mischief again. "Hey wait that's for the thumbprint cookies," she laughed as she watched him spooned a bit of jam from the glass container and put it in his mouth.

"We have plenty for them though!" He replied, voice muffled by the spoon still in his mouth.

"Well Mr. Jam man! How about you add some to those cookies, and then you can continue nicking the rest of it," she snickered, as she watched him give her a thumbs up before beginning his mission of jamming the cookies.

It was his duty after all as jam man.

During all that prep, he also listed off all the reasons she should stay with him starting off with the obvious as he stated.

"You can spend time with me, I can spend time with you, I can cook for you, you can cook for me," he rambled on plopping jam in the cookies while stealing some of it for himself. "We can cuddle every day. Oh, I can drive you to work too so you don't have to take the Tube, that means more time together- I said that already didn't I?"

"Yes, yes you did," [Y/n] laughed as she rolled balls of dough in the cinnamon sugar to make the snickerdoodle cookies. "I'm getting a lot of 'we can spend time together' as your reasoning."

"There's nothing wrong with that is it?” He asked, pausing from his jam duties. "I like spending time with you, we always have fun even if we are just here doing nothing."

"Nope, nothing wrong at all! And I do also love our time together, my cheeks always hurt afterwards and in a good way!"

They both turned to look at each other, a bright smile on their lips as they mulled over how much they adored being with one another at every chance they got. Huh…maybe it wouldn't be so bad moving in…she did love the energy he had and of course Sinclair himself. So would it be so bad to share a space with him?

'Hm.'

She pondered some more as they continued to finish prepping all the cookies, chatting all through the process as he continued to list off more reasons she should live with him. After they had set a batch of them in the oven, and wrapped up the leftovers, they were startled by the doorbell ringing. 

"I'll get it!" [Y/n] exclaimed bounding out of the kitchen before Sinclair could say anything, leaving him with baking cookies that smelled terrific and made his stomach grumble.

Cookies for lunch what a wonderful thing!

"Okay I know what you're thinking Sinclair," [Y/n]'s voice floated into the room yet he couldn't see her. "'Cookies for lunch! Wonderful!' Well you know I love that but," she appeared with a pizza box in hand and he could have sworn he had fallen even harder in love with her than he thought possible. “I need something a little more substantial so forgive me for ordering pizza before I got here and don't you dare try to pay me back!”

His eyes sparkled as he approached her, or more like bounded towards her, and she only had a second to lift the box in her hand away from her chest before Sinclair was pressed against her and raining more kisses upon her.

“Oh! I love you so much my magical food fairy!” He blurted, squeezing her in a tight hug that had her breathless, yet she couldn't stop the laughter that escaped her at his enthusiasm. “You're just absolutely wonderful, you know that? God do I love you! You always know just how to make my day!”

“Haha well if cheap pizza and cookies make you happy then I'm in luck because I can afford those every week,” she teased as he pressed his lips against hers, cutting her off with a smile as they kissed. “But I don't think our blood work would approve,” she giggled breathlessly when he pulled away.

‘Ding!’

The sound of the timer on top of the oven went off, signalling that the cookies were done, and also that it was time for them to taste the fruits of their labour.

“Perfect everything is done let's dig in!” Sinclair announced as he let [Y/n] go, enthusiastic about the snacks that they now had. “I’ll bring the plates and cookies you go get comfy in the living room okay?”

Giving him a thumbs up and an ecstatic ‘okay’, she scampered off to get everything nice and cosy on the couch for their meal of junk that was oh so delicious with each other.

The cheap pizza was a hit with both of them as they chatted and laughed while a silly Christmas movie played on the TV. It served as background noise mainly as the two had more than enough to talk about. 

After the meal had been devoured, and everything but the cookies were put up, they found themselves snuggled tight in blankets wrapped around them on the couch as food coma from earlier began to sit in. Her legs were tangled in between Sinclair’s, and her body pressed against his as she lazily played with his hair.

There was a drowsy smile on his lips that was so cute! So much so, that she couldn't resist the urge to lean up a little and give him a soft peck.

“Sinclair,” she whispered against his lips, pulling away and blowing some of his golden hair away from his face causing him to hum softly. 

“I love you very much, you know that right?” She asked in a whisper as she kissed his cheek before she gazed at his sleepy but happy expression.

“Mhmm of course I do,” he replied. "You wouldn’t have come baked with me if you didn’t? And the pizza? You must love me if you brought me pizza [Y/n] it’s a scientific fact.”

His amber eyes squinted at her question as he was very much falling asleep, yet they were still vibrant and conveyed a joyful emotion that was not dulled by drowsiness. She could also see the odd speck of dark green or grey around his eyes that sometimes made them look hazel when the light hit them just right. Gosh was he a work of wonder! How could one person be so handsome, brilliant, and kind all in one? He was like a dream.

“Weeell,” she drawled, playing with the cosy jumper he had been wearing all day that was so soft against her fingertips. “Do you love me?”

Perking up at that question, he leaned down until the tips of their noses touched and he gently rubbed them together causing her to giggle. “Of course I do! You’re my favourite person in the world! Plus you don’t get mad at me when I go and talk your ear off even if what I’m saying is boring to you.”

She grinned, 

“Of course I’m going to listen to you ‘Clair, you deserve to be listened to,” she smiled. "Even though sometimes I have no clue what you’re talking about,” she added making Sinclair nip at her noise like a puppy giving a warning nip. 

It caused her to shriek with laughter and he did it again. However, this time he laid on top of her and wrapped his arms tight around her in a warm hug that caused her to snuggle closer to him underneath the blankets. Their breathy laughter filled the air as they kissed once more while [Y/n] also stroked his cheek as his warm lips captured hers briefly. 

She could get used to this. The cuddling with him every day, kissing him when he went to work and came back. And really anytime truthfully. And him of course, she could get used to waking up and going to sleep in his arms. Honestly, it sounded like a good life. When they pulled away, Sinclair noted the shine in her eyes and his heart began to beat faster as she always got that shine in her eyes when good news was on its way. 

“Well, I guess because I love you so much, and you love me so much I well..maybe it won’t hurt too much for me to move in with you. I could get used to all this cuddling you know?”

It took him a moment to process what she had said, but when he did, a loud shout of joy flew from his lips and almost deafened her. But it was worth the way his entire face brightened and his eyes lit up as if he wasn’t about to fall asleep just a moment ago.

“[Y/n]! This is brilliant, wonderful, oh you’re so wonderful, do you know that?” He asked as he squeezed her tight and made her laugh the sweet sound he loved to hear. “Oh I’m so happy okay we need to get movers, and we can get your stuff here! And your lease, do you want to terminate it early? I know it might cost a bit so if you need any help I’m happy to pay for the fees since I’m making you move. And oh I need to clean the closet so you can have room!”

She watched with a tiny grin as he listed off the things that they would need to do so they could get ready for her move and she couldn’t help the fluttering in her stomach. He was so lovely. And with each little thing he added to their list with enthusiasm, she couldn’t stop how warm her heart felt.

Maybe it knew she had made the right decision, and the thought of it only made her happier as she listened with a sleepy smile to her new roommate's rambling.

A/N: All Sinclair needs is snacks and his girlfriend and he's a happy puppy! Who wouldn't want a man like him 😉😉 I hope everyone gets to have some snacks this holiday and if not, let me know so i can send Sinclair over with cookies!!

Tags: @mercurial-make-em-ups, @deepperplexity

[tuberculosis-bot-9000]

Last year, our small fandom celebrated our favorite tiny corner of the Star Wars universe.

Now, we do it all again!

I AM HAPPY TO ANNOUNCE:

KALEESH WEEK 2023!

LET'S GET READY TO RRRRUMBLE!

Details and rules under the cut!

Welcome back to Kaleesh Week! I am so excited to have another one of these! Without further ado:

What is Kaleesh Week?

Kaleesh Week is a week dedicated to the small but thriving subset of the Star Wars fandom that loves General Grievous and his people, the Kaleesh. Similar to much more well-known fandom celebrations such as Smaugust, Mermay, or Whumptober, Kaleesh Week can pertain to any medium of choice.

What are the rules?

The rules are simple, but should be followed to ensure the happiness of all participants and make my job as archivist easier!

Any type of creation is allowed, whether art, fanfiction, gifs, videos, or anything else. As long as it's Kaleesh-related, there's no problem

Remember to properly tag all triggers

Remember to tag your entries with #kaleesh week, #kaleeshweek, #kaleesh week 2023, or #kaleeshweek2023, it will help me keep track of them all so I can reblog them

Also, please tag me in your posts so that I can be sure to see and reblog them! If I missed one, don't hesitate to tell me

It isn't strictly necessary to follow along every day, this is meant to be fun! Post whenever you like, whether that's all seven days or just one. You can also post anytime after the week if you'd like

Alternate prompts can be used to mix and match in any way you'd like with the standard prompts, so go crazy

And last but not least, have fun!

What are the prompts, and what's the deal with alternate prompts?

The two lists of prompts are there to give any participants more freedom with whatever they'd like to create. Alternate prompts are a set of prompts that anybody can use in place of the current prompt. You don't need to choose either the regular prompts OR the alternate prompts, instead, you can decide each day if you'd like to use one of the prompts or one of the alternate prompts. If you aren't feeling one prompt, you can swap it out with any of the alternate prompts, as out of order as you'd like.

Prompts:

Khan

Empire

Demigod

Pups

Wives

Injury

Ascension

Alternate Prompts:

Izvoshra

Droids

Oben

The Force

Republic

Jedi

Sith

I'd like to join the General Grievous Discord server! Where do I sign up?

If you'd like to come hang out with us at the Kaleeaboos server, simply PM me! We have all sorts of fun stuff going on, and a pretty chill vibe. I'm one of the mods there along with some other big names in the Grievous fandom. Come hang with us!

And finally, good luck, and have fun!

[accessories-game]

OC Questionnaire Tag

Tagged by the lovely @talesofsorrowandofruin over on this post!

Rules: Pick an OC or group of OCs and answer the three questions posed in character. The put forward three questions of your own and tag some people.

My questions:

What's something you wish you'd figured out sooner?

How long do you think you could survive if you were lost in a wilderness?

What's the most interesting conversation you eavesdropped on?

I'll be using Stella, Layla, Ilya, Eliot & Pippa from Accessories to Murder to play along~

1. What's something you wish you'd figured out sooner?

"I suppose it might be smart for me to say asking for help. I have a frightfully difficult time reaching out for fear of being burdensome, but the results are so often not as bad as I feared. I simply can't imagine running the shop without the tireless efforts of Mr Lewis or dear Camelia."

"Simple: knowing which jobs aren't worth takin'. The amount of headaches that kinda thing could've saved me..."

"Perfect literacy for the languages I intended to speak. Such things help to keep a lower profile. Slang is also something I had difficulty with but no longer struggle with."

"There was a rather famous play that I thought I had figured out but it turns out I had it all backwards. Looking back it's all terribly obvious now but I suppose that's not the sort of answer you're looking for."

"Never agree to buy a house close to the river, no matter how good a deal it sounds. My rugs are positively ruined and I don't think any of my plants have forgiven me."

2. How long do you think you could survive if you were lost in a wilderness?

"I'm not certain about surviving in the wilderness. I've barely seen much of the outside world being more of a city girl. Let's be charitable and say a matter of hours, shall we?"

"Hmm, maybe a week? I'm no stranger to going without but a life like that sounds pretty rotten to me. I'd get done in by being bored than going hungry or anything."

"Much longer than my last attempt, which was years ago now but I remained undetected and in good health for months."

"On a good day, between 3 days and a week. I should know, I have tried before... a fascinating experience but not one I'd recommend."

"What, alone? With no one else around at all? That's not really nice, is it? I'm not sure I'd last a day lost and out there. Just the thought's put me on edge now..."

3. What's the most interesting conversation you eavesdropped on?

"I can't say too much as I was rather young at the time but I believe I overheard an assassination being planned. I didn't quite understand the full gravity of it all then and I think part of me thought that this planned hit for intended for me! I couldn't sleep for weeks afterwards."

"Ooh, the scandals I could tell you about. I tell you, some of these people just think they're stepping into a second home getting in a cab and just start spillin' all sorts to whoever's listening. Probably all just idle gossip anyway."

"Not one I am fond of remembering. It was from my time as a translator back home. It saved my life as well as the man held captive but it is also why I can never go back."

"It was never the complete conversations that I found interesting. My father, brilliant man and better detective, was as much a source of mystery to me as he is an inspiration. I remember overhearing fragments of hushed conversations with people I didn't know. I know everyone from the press to the police say he's a big part of the corrupt element in town... but I never did believe that."

"This one time, I had someone come to me looking to find his old sweetheart from before The Flood. Very tragic, very heartbreaking and... somehow I knew she wasn't dead. I took a moment, you know, to gather my wits and that and out the window, I could just heard the words of the song he had just told me this girl sang. Anyway, it turned out that she was looking for him and had been singing the song all around the streets hoping to find him. I'm sorry, I just love telling that story. I love a happy ending."

And now... I tag @vellatra @noisette-tornade @kyuponstories @raichana @teresashiho @maskedemerald and @cool-mint

Your questions:

What do you do when you are lost?

What's something mundane that gives you the creeps?

How easy is it for people to trust you?

[exec-proton]

[ Against the Kitchen Floor ] [Story post]

Yeah like the will wood song. You'll see why.

I'm very proud of this, by the by! I think it's probably just about the longest (singular) thing I've written, at 2252 words. Keep that in mind, by the way. This fucker's LONG.

Which is why it's below the read more.

Before you read, I want to warn that there are several descriptions of nausea and vomiting, anxiety attacks, as well as NONsexual nudity (Proton takes a bath). Nothing gets too graphic, I think (especially the nudity bit. He just takes his clothes off), but I would rather be safe than sorry with a warning. I have a higher tolerance for this sort of stuff, so please let me know if anything should be tagged, or added to this little warning.

-

How long had it been since he’d gotten out of bed? He wasn’t sure.

Proton cracked his eyes open. He was clinging to a pillow, another propped behind him. So he wouldn’t roll over. He sat up slowly, ignoring the way his stomach twisted.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. He groaned, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes and mind. There clearly wasn’t anyone home.

Right. Petrel was going grocery shopping, and Archer and Ariana were out looking for.. Something. Someone?

No. They’d stopped doing that. Right. He had to stop thinking like that. A hand drifted to his waist. There was no knife to grab. It wasn’t a good feeling.

Dragging his legs over the side of the bed, Proton scanned the room. He was in Petrel’s room. Right. He’d been making him sleep in the bed, instead of down on the couch. His guts shifted uncomfortably. He was starving.

He hadn’t had good food since he’d started losing weight. It was precautionary, Petrel had told him. His stomach was less likely to reject simple food. Proton stood slowly. He didn’t care anymore. He was hungry. He was tired of the crackers. He wanted something. Something actually good. Something other than the bland shit Petrel had restricted him too.

Fuck, he was nauseous. He ignored it. He was more hungry than anything else.

Slowly, slowly so he wouldn’t jostle his stomach and gag, he made his way to the kitchen. He lost focus, though, his movementsquickening as he pulled the fridge open, his eyes darting from one thing to the next.

Cravings. Cravings were normal. That’s what Ariana had said. He listened to her more than Petrel, at this point. She’d had a kid before. Petrel was just-

Just something. Proton wasn’t sure. He scowled at the contents of the fridge.

Meat. That sounded good. Archer had hidden some brisket behind a bag of broccoli (Why had they even bought that? None of them would eat any without Proton to cook it into something else). Proton shoved the greens away and grabbed the Tupperware, opening the lid and throwing it into the microwave.

His mouth was watering, he realized distantly. Like one of Archer’s dogs. He was pathetic. He couldn’t even keep anything down, and he was literally salivating. He leaned over to spit into the sink. Disgusting.

The microwave beeped at him, and he hurried to pull his food out. The cuts of brisket steamed. The fat had bubbled nicely, and delicious oil made the meat shine. His stomach rolled at the smell. Fuck.

Proton grimaced, but reached into the Tupperware and brought a slice to his mouth. It was the best fucking food he’d had in what felt like years. He ate the entire dish before he’d realized what he’d done. Fuck it. He dropped the Tupperware into the sink. That could be someone else’s problem. He was going to go collapse on his couch and go to sleep for a month.

He’d made it to the sofa, carefully laying himself down, when his thoughts began to wander. This was ridiculous. He was famous in Rocket for having an iron stomach. He could eat anything. And now the scent of raisins made him spew his past five meals onto the floor.

He wanted to smoke. He wouldn’t- He couldn’t- but he wanted to. He grumbled mindlessly. If Petrel came back with the smell of cigarettes clinging to him, he would punch the man.

He didn’t know if he could punch Petrel like this. He felt weak.

Fuck.

His innards were quite happily tying themselves into knots. He gagged, sitting up quickly. Wrong choice. The nausea was worse instantly.

Proton shifted onto his feet, throwing himself back into the kitchen before he could vomit on the floor. He succeeded, just barely, and clung desperately to the counter as his stomach emptied itself into the sink.

Fuck. Petrel was going to kill him.

When he finally stopped heaving, he slipped to the ground slowly, leaning back against the cupboards. He was shaking, he realized as he sucked in a breath. He was shaking and crying and fucking pathetic.

He couldn’t protect Rocket. He could barely handle himself now. What would he do when-

Proton let his head drop back against the wood behind him with a quiet sob. He couldn’t do this. What was he thinking? How had he let himself get to this in the first place? He’d been stupid. An idiot. There were so many ways to prevent this, and yet, here he was. What, had he forgotten? How stupid.

He hit the back of his head against the counter again, cursing to himself between his cries. His voice wasn’t even his anymore. He sounded like a girl again. He wanted to scream.

He wanted to scream and throw himself at the walls, tearing at anyone who got close, to be showered in blood. He wanted to hurt someone, because he was hurting, and he didn’t know what else to do.

Somewhere, in the house that was not his, a door opened.

Proton did not hear it, lost in his own thoughts. His cheeks burned with salt, and his throat with acid, but he did not make a noise.

Petrel’s voice, singing some song from the radio, filtered into the kitchen. He slid in on his socks, carrying the groceries he had left to buy.

They lay forgotten on the floor in an instant.

Petrel kneeled in front of Proton, looming over him, something worse than worry guiding his every movement. Proton blinked, his mind throwing itself back into gear. He inhaled sharply, pulling back. He hated this. He hated the look on Petrel’s face. It was something he was far too familiar with, from the looks of so many others, the way they looked at him when he approached with a knife and a grin. Fear. He hated the way he was afraid, too. He hated the way his voice broke, the way it keened when Petrel reached for his shoulders. The way he broke when the man held him so gently, cradling the back of his head like something precious.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, babe, I’m here. It’s okay,” Petrel repeated, rocking him back and forth. Proton wanted to fight. He could not. “It’s okay. I’m right here, Love.”

They stayed like that. It was horrible and comforting. Proton hated it. He tried to speak, to yell and push and scream, but his belly rolled again. He scrambled to his feet before he could heave whatever was left of his stomach’s contents onto the other man. That was the absolute last thing he needed.

Petrel cooed quiet praise and encouragement to him, rubbing his back gently and pulling his hair away from his face. It had gotten longer.

Finally, finally finally, his guts let him rest, and he leaned back into Petrel’s embrace. The man hummed at him, gathering him in his arms. Hugging him. “Hey,” he started, and Proton shivered. “Come on. Let’s go sit down, mkay? Come on,” he repeated, tugging at Proton. Once the green-haired man had started to walk, back out to the living room, to his couch, Petrel let go, ducking down to grab a large metal bowl from the cupboard, and a glass of water. Proton glared at him, opening his mouth to speak, but Petrel quieted him with a loving look. “Just in case,” he said.

Petrel settled Proton down with far too much care. The bowl and water were set aside, perched on the coffee table, as Petrel sat beside him. Proton eyed him warily.

“How’re you feeling, Pro?” he asked, setting his hand on the man’s thigh and rubbing small circles with his thumb. “Whatever happened, I’m not mad.”

Proton winced at the way his voice croaked when he responded, “I’m fine.”

Petrel frowned, had the audacity to look sad, and said “I don’t believe you.”

It was horrible, having someone who could see through you like that.

“I was hungry,” Proton said. It felt like a confession of sin.

“Oh, Pro,” Petrel murmured, reaching out to brush green hair out of his eyes. Proton looked away. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been home.” His voice was so soft, laced with concern and regret, and it was all because of Proton. He didn’t know what to do with it.

Petrel sighed, leaning to pick the glass up and press it into Proton’s hands, guiding it to his mouth. “Come on, you need to drink.” Proton let him. His throat ached. But the water washed away the sting of the bile, and the smell started to leave with it.

The smell.

Proton gagged, and the water was taken away, the bowl positioned in front of him. His body heaved pathetically, but he didn’t vomit. Progress, he thought wryly, spitting the excess of saliva into the metal dish. Petrel rubbed his back.

Little sips, he thought he could hear the man saying. Little sips. He’d tried to drink too much at once. Right. Proton lifted his head. Too much. He leaned against Petrel, breathing shakily. His hair fell into his eyes, across his shoulders. Petrel brushed it away again, a kiss pressed gently against his temple.

Gentle, gentle.

Proton shivered, turning his face into the man’s shoulder. He was quivering, his body on the verge of just giving up. He hadn’t wanted this. He could’ve prevented it. He could’ve prevented all of it. Hot tears pricked at his eyes, and he grabbed Petrel’s shirt. He was being held, now.

“I can’t– Petrel,” he whimpered. Soft murmurs spoke back to him, caressing his back, attempting to soothe him.

“Yes, you can,” Petrel said, “you are so strong, Sweetheart.”

The grip on Petrel’s shirt tightened. “No- I couldn’t- Fuck, Petr, this is all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t.”

It was. It was, he knew it. Petrel knew it too.

“I couldn’t hurt him. All of this. I can’t fucking hurt a kid, Petrel, that’s why all of this is happening. It’s my fault!” His voice was rising. Petrel couldn’t hear him. He had to. He had to hear him.

Petrel leaned back, lifting Proton’s head to meet his eyes. Frantic gaze met calm; green met black.

“That is exactly why you’re so strong.”

Proton blinked.

Fuck.

He collapsed back into Petrel’s waiting arms. He wasn’t ready. He never would be.

“It’s in the past now, Love. It’s alright,” Petrel murmured.

Maybe, just maybe, he could believe him for once. He was tired. He wanted it to be alright. He didn’t want to worry anymore.

Petrel hummed, running his fingers through Proton’s hair. “We should get you cleaned up, hm? A bath sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

Proton nodded slowly. He was exhausted. He wanted this to be over.

Petrel stood without him, kissing the top of his head and walking out of the room. Proton stared after him.

The sound of running water flooded into the room, drowning his thoughts with a quiet shhhh…

Petrel returned, helping him to his feet and guiding him into the bathroom. Proton stood in front of the mirror.

“I look like shit,” he croaked. Petrel laughed, kissing the back of his head.

“Well, you’re the prettiest piece of shit I’ve ever seen,” he said, and squeezed Proton’s shoulder.

His hair was too long. It laid on his shoulders. Proton gathered it in one hand, holding it back.

“I look like a teenager,” he sighed. He would never miss those years.

Petrel frowned then, his hand drifting to settle on the back of Proton’s neck. “Do you want to cut it?”

Proton thought about this. He did, he wanted it gone so badly. He missed the way it curled over his ears, framing his face. He missed the way it made him feel like a man.

“No,” he decided. “For now.”

Petrel smiled, nodding and kissing his shoulder. He turned away, digging through the cupboards for this-and-that, salts and soaps and things to put in the warm water.

Proton began to strip, taking the last shield from his thoughts off his delicate body and letting it fall to the ground with his clothes.

He stood, naked, staring at the stranger in his mirror.

They looked like him, in some ways. The same eyes. The same hair, though longer. The same tattoos.

In some ways, they looked different. Their skin was paler. Dark bags lay beneath their eyes. The biggest difference, however, was the way their belly had started to grow.

It was finally starting to be obvious. Not drastically so, but noticeable without the overlarge hoodie he’d been hiding in. It was still enough to hide the gentle slope of his stomach. For now. That was the key word. Words.

The worst part was, he did this to himself. His own carelessness. Of course he could still get pregnant.

Testosterone didn’t make you immune to that. Even if he had still been on it, there was a chance. And then, everything had fallen apart, and he lost everything. The hormones left with Rocket.

So, yeah. He should’ve been more careful. But he knew that. He’d chosen to ignore it. Willful ignorance. Blind stupidity.

And now he was knocked up. Yippee.

A warm hand jerked Proton from his thoughts when it settled carefully onto the small of his back. Petrel leaned forward, careful to keep himself from touching Proton anywhere else. “The bath’s ready, Sweetheart.”

Proton nodded, and slipped into the warm embrace of the water.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

when you get this you have to answer with 5 of ur fav songs and then tag your mutuals to do the same :) (no pressure <;3)

tagged by @twig-tea (I did not forget, I just got busy!)

Oo I haven't had to think much about my favorite songs, I have been on a heavy podcast binge lately and otherwise I have been listening heavily to the playlist my roommate and I made for when we need to scream sing in the car for #mentalhealth.

Here are some of my favorite, three of these I count as my favorites based on the fact that every time they play I simply must rewind and listen to the song like five times before I can move on

'The Loneliness Waltz' by The Ballroom Thieves

This song has some incredibly smart lyrics and I love the strings in this song so much. The guitar makes my brain happy, the cello makes my soul happy. (This is a get to know me better post so here is a fun fact, I used to play the flute, but if I were to have a do-over I would have chosen to play the cello, it's so beautiful). There is some harmonizing on the last few lines that I absolutely.

My favorite lines in the song:

"Comfort reminds us of how it should feel / It wistfully chains us to fictive ideals / And it spurs us to keep all our love in a jar / Says I'm just keeping you from harm"

'Gut Punch/Don't Meet Your Idols' by Everybody's Worried About Owen

This is such a great depression song, I have listened to this song so much. It's really uptempo and again I absolutely love the lyrical work that is being done in this piece. I find this song interesting because the song is very mis-matchy between the first half and second half. The energy radically changes from a staccato bop to more of a tired, lyrical melody. I hadn't listened to this one in awhile, but some grief from last week put this song back in my head and it was very cathartic to listen to it.

Favorite lines in the song:

"Every time I see a spark / There's someone putting out the fire / But I will not let my grandparents bury their grandchild / It's a struggle back and forth / And I'm learning but it's happening by force / It's 4am and I'm fucking tired. " (Side note: it feels really good to scream "I'm fucking tired" when you are in fact, fucking tired).

'Honeybee' by Steam Powered Giraffe

This song is just so so beautiful, it's peaceful, it's loving, it's got a sort of barbershop quartet vibe when there are harmonies, and you know a bitch loves a good barbershop quartet. I think something that a lot of the songs I love have in common is at least one part of the melody that reminds me of raindrops falling (definitely why I am so desperately in love with Gymnopedie No. 1 by Erik Satie)

Favorite Lines:

"Oh, turpentine erase me whole / ('Cause I) don't want to live my life alone / (Well I) was waiting for you all my life / (Oh oh) oh / (Why I) I / Set me free / My honeybee"

'Myth to Live By' by Lizard Boy, Original Cast

Honestly, this is one of my favorite musicals even though I have never seen the actual show. I think it was a fringe festival sort of musical but there are so many songs in the Lizard Boy album that I absolutely love. I had a hard time deciding between A Terrible Ride and Myth to Live By for my favorite in their album but I really love The Woah Song, Recess is so fun, I Might Stay, I Don't Know Where to Go. Anyway that album is fun. I don't think the men's voices are necessarily the best, but I think it works the show they are performing. I am now realizing that a lot of my favorite songs have some harmonizing that I love.

Favorite lines:

"I've been waiting for change to drop out of the sky / I've been squeezing the meaning out of one simple word / Try / And I'm making a list of the things that I'm proud of / And I'm making a list of the people that I love / And I'm setting my limits impossibly high / Cause my life is gonna be a myth to live by."

'Spite' by Vandaveer

THE FUCKING OPENING CELLO MOMENTS IN THIS SONG ARE SO FUCKING FUN. I did not know that cello could have a rasp to it, but oh my god I just love it so much. I'm also fueled by spite so this is a great song for me lol.

Favorite line:

"He cut out his sleep to spite his dreams / Picked all the flowers to spite the bees / He burned his bible to spite the Lord / Took a day off to lick his wounds I heard him swear / "Life is such a wretched affair / I'm gonna hold my breath to spite the air"

__ Twig, thanks for tagging me in this, I have learned something about myself and my music tastes which are that I apparently have a thing for songs with staccato and heavy use of strings in their score and fun harmonies.

okay, I don't know who has already done this so: @neuroticbookworm, @solitaryandwandering, @telomeke, @respectthepetty, @benkaaoi

[did-i-do-this-write]

Experiment FAQ

What is the Experiment?

Originally, I designed this experiment to help myself out when I was having a hard time getting writing done just after getting a new job.  My lack of energy and feeling like I had no one to share my progress with started to get me down. 

So I came up with an idea: for every ask I received here on my writing blog, I would write at least 100 words before I answered it!  This method worked wonders for me because it gave me a caveat: if I wanted to interact with the community, I had to get some writing done.  It has since grown, and now over 30 other writeblrs are participating!

How Do I Participate?

It’s as simple as deciding that you want to start using this method, too!  I encourage you to let me know so I can add you to the participants list (linked below) and send a ‘checking in’ ask every once in a while, but that is not a requirement!

You can let me know via DM, reply, reblog, or through an ask! If you send me an ask, I will add you as soon as I get it, but I won't publicly answer until after I've written my 100 words XD

What are the Rules?

You get an ask, you write a hundred words, you answer it.  That’s it!  You can decide if you want to keep track of your progress, or answer the asks normally with no indication that you’re even participating.

Some have taken the idea and made it their own.  For instance, @sleepyowlwrites designates some time when the experiment applies, but otherwise is not always using this method.  @antique-symbolism asks that, if you want your ask to apply, you write “100” before or after, so they know!  And @himbos-hotline switched it from 100 words per ask to 15 minute sprints per ask!  All variations are valid and welcome, that’s why it’s called an “experiment,” it’s about finding what works for you!

What Should I Keep Track of and How?

It’s up to you!  I personally add which WIP I worked on, how many words I wrote for that ask, and how much I’ve written for the experiment as a whole.  I write it at the end of every ask after a divider image. It’s motivating for me to see the number slowly tick up at the end of every ask, but it’s a lot to keep track of!  Some only keep track of total, some only list how many the ask generated, and some don’t keep track at all!

If you're looking to use a tag on your blog to keep track of everything, you can use the collective tag "#the great motivation experiment" or you can make up your own!

What if I Don’t Think This Method Will Work for Me?

That’s totally understandable!  For some, this sort of thing can be overwhelming and the opposite of motivational. 

If you're curious but uncertain, you can always test it out and decide what to do based on your personal results. If it works, great! If not, you can message me privately and let me know you want to drop out. No sweat! I don't mind adding/subtracting your name to the list as many times as you'd like!

If you’re not interested in participating, but still want to be part of the community, you can always check out the participants list and send asks to motivate your fellow writers!  Everyone on it has signed up and agreed to be tagged!

What if Your FAQ Didn’t Answer My Question?

No worries.  I tried to cover the basics, but I am only human after all.  If you still have questions you can always drop into my inbox!  I’ll happily answer your question as soon as I add 100 words to my own word count :D in the meantime, here are some links that might help.

Helpful Links

#The Great Motivation Experiment

Original Post

Participants List

Ask Games (to get you started!)

Whether you decide to join us or not, I hope you’re able to reach all your writing goals!

Happy writing!

[imogenkol]

— WIP WEDN- UH- THURSDAY?

tagged by @inafieldofdaisies @adelaidedrubman and @sstewyhosseini thank you beloveds!! 💕

no pressure tags: @marivenah @socially-awkward-skeleton @corvosattano @voidika @detectivelokis @aceghosts @kyber-infinitygems @jinfromyarikawa @shegetsburned @risingsh0t @florbelles @simonxriley @loriane-elmuerto @jackiesarch + anyone else that would like to share a wip!

Posting the facepalm moment to put my own oc on blast

“His concerns are not entirely unfounded,” she slowly admitted. 

Bix shot her a deeply confused look. “Are you saying you care what Cassian thinks?”

“No,” Imogen said with a scoff. “I simply mean that he harbors the same judgments everyone else holds against me. I have accepted them long ago and so should you, lest that scowl overstays its welcome.” 

The mechanic shook her head bitterly, ignoring Imogen’s attempt to lighten her mood. “They just don’t know you.”

“And they never will, not like you do.” 

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Bix pointed out as she came to a stop. “All he sees is the Inquisitor.”

Imogen tried not to roll her eyes. “I have nothing to prove to him or anyone else. Why should I waste my time with such an endeavor? Especially when they are not wrong.”

“They are wrong.”

“No, they aren’t. Not about me. Not about us. What does it matter?” Imogen placed her hands on Bix’s arms. Her caress had a sort of melancholy that lingered in the small smile across her lips. “I don’t think I’m the right person for you, I don’t. But I do know that I am the one who can keep you safe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bix asked incredulously and shook off her touch. 

Imogen felt a tightness at the back of her throat. She moistened her lips and swallowed with difficulty, her voice hollow. “Have you considered that your feelings for me might be influenced by gratitude? By the simple fact that I got to you first on Ferrix? Would it not be Cassian’s embrace you’d wish to fall into every night had it been him?” 

It pained Imogen incredibly deeply to voice an insecurity that she had failed to bury. The way Bix had looked at her differently since Ferrix filled Imogen with a warmth that she had never felt, but she couldn’t shake the whisper at the back of her mind that gradually became another scream in the cacophony. A part of her didn’t care if it was true, she would be grateful to have Bix in any capacity. But the much larger part that truly loved her felt she needed to hear those words.

An intense, furious expression twisted Bix’s features as her body stiffened. She fixed Imogen with that hard look and the bounty hunter nearly took a step back. “No,” Bix said with such curt firmness that Imogen realized her mistake. “And I don’t like what you’re insinuating.” 

“Bix –”

“And I’ll tell you why you’re wrong,” she continued fiercely and took an assertive step towards Imogen, entering her space. It wasn’t until that moment that Imogen realized she had, in fact, backed away. “What I feel for you was there before all of this, and everything you’ve done for me only made me love you even more. So, despite what you might think of me, I won’t just fall for the first person who comes to my rescue.”

Imogen’s gaze became downcast in shame before she responded softly, “Forgive me. I misspoke.”

“You sure did.” Bix turned to walk away and Imogen felt conflicted on whether she should follow. 

She refrained from pursuit, but she couldn’t help but call out after her. “You know I don’t truly think that.” 

Bix hesitated. Some of the tension dispersed from her shoulders as she released a sigh and glanced back. “You still don’t believe that I can love you for you. I thought we were past this, Imogen.” 

“I do not doubt you.”

“Well, some part of you does.”

Imogen dared a couple of steps towards her mechanic. It was difficult enough to decipher what went on in her heart on a good day. Now, her thoughts and emotions rushed in too many directions to track. “Maybe... But I swear not to let it rule over me.”

Bix held up a hand to stop her. “Look, first it was Cassian and now it’s you, just… give me some time, okay?”

Imogen hated Cassian. And she wasn’t particularly fond of herself at the moment, either. She conceded. “Of course.”

As she watched Bix walk away, Imogen felt the invisible tether between them tighten. If her foolishness finally made it snap, she would never forgive herself.

[randomimagesofspongebobgames]

1,442 followers!!

First off, i'm glad that this account is continuing to thrive! Even though I have been a bit too busy to update the queue I have worked to check each and every tag if I can!

I'm getting there with Lights Camera Pants at the moment though working through putting up some flash games as well to hopefully not drown everything in TOO much Lights Camera Pants haha.

I'm thinking about direct links to videos I'm getting materials from now. I have a current queue of 217 images which at my current rate will take a while to reach 0. I still have some stuff in the queue that was from all the way I started. I'm wondering if to wait for the queue to deplete or if I should start linking now. It might be confusing based on how I do my postings since I love to click that shuffle queue button after getting a bunch of images. I will still obviously be updating my FAQ but I'm wondering if I should go a little step further. I haven't fully decided yet but if I end up just going with links now you might see a lot of stuff in the queue that isn't fully linked mixed with stuff that is.

Things i'm considering for the blog also: Fan games, Mods, and Games that Include Spongebob. For each of these - unlike the main games - I will try to include a note that categorizes them based on these descriptors. Aka I'll note if they are not official Spongebob games or are games that use Spongebob's likeness

For explanations click the Read Below!

FAN GAMES:

This one is going to be the most vague admittedly and hard to define as what I apply as applicable to this blog. I understand that most Spongebob fan games lately are horror material or may contain mature topics. Even games that I was considering (If you've seen my FAQ you know i'm familiar with Around The Clock At Bikini Bottom.) may contain swearing, death, horror material, etc. So it's sorta matter of would these sorts of subject matters are befitting to this blog or not.

Though there are some games - at least right now - I'm gonna sorta avoid putting on just because they're a little too out of the realm of Spongebob. Stuff like Mr. Krabs Overdoses on Ketamine, SpongeGlock SquarePants, and Sinister Squidward. Also, some of them are just a little TOO MUCH for me lol (especially Sinister Squidward.)

Also, let's be honest, there are a lot of SpongeBob games out there that's made by younger audiences (Which I don't want to bully) or by greedy scammers trying to get money by putting Spongebob on a bike game or creepy dentist game (Which I don't want to give attention to.)

MODS

For Mods I will not be doing just simple reskins (unless the reskin is large in scale such as BFBB Winter Wonderland and Battle for Boo-kini Bottom.) Aka I won't pick mods where it's just Spongebob in Sonic Adventure 2 or Sonic in BFBB. I'll probably pick ones that are specifically mods for Spongebob games.

When approaching this particular subject i'm thinking of stuff such as BFBBMix but I understand there are probably not a lot of Spongebob mods under those sorts of criteria.

SPONGEBOB-INVOLVED

This is just a coined term for things that include Spongebob in some way such as Nicktoons Unite! / Spongebob Squarepants and Friends Unite!. I'd probably skip on material that doesn't have much to actually offer in content (Nicktoons Racing, Nicktoons Party Blast, Nicktoons MLB.). I want to use games where Spongebob characters have an actual impact on the game through dialogue or story (so things such as All-Star Brawl 2 Campaign could count since each of the characters has active dialogue!) However, i'll try to keep the focus on Spongebob and Spongebob characters!