#i'm not going to because that's a good way to get shot

[holmoris]

I think it's worth describing how absolutely insane that achievement is because it's above and beyond the level of catching munchlax in pokemon d/p/p and may be the single most painful achievement I've ever seen in a videogame.

TL:DR: Catching every pokemon in a Pokemon game and then doing a series of nuzlocke runs that results in every single pokemon appearing in the hall of fame at least once would be significantly faster than getting this achievement.

Balatro's got a bunch of stakes that function as its analogue to Slay the Spire's ascensions, difficulty levels you have to beat sequentially that make the game marginally harder in some way that compounds with the previous difficulty increases. Gold is the final stake and it and the stake or two before it are difficult to the point where the dominant strategy involves restarting the game over and over until you have perfect RNG on ante 1. Even playing optimally you need a significant amount of good luck to be able to win a gold.

For people who haven't actually played Balatro, it has a sort of inventory system with five slots that you can fit special cards (jokers) into comparable to an RPG where all five pieces of equipment just give you random bullshit effects instead of stats. The core strategy over the course of the game is setting up and refining a ridiculous triggered combo between your jokers and on gold all five slots are basically required to be involved in each hand in order for you to have a shot at winning (often you need more than 5 slots to put together a combo on gold as well, as there's a rare way to increase your slot count for the game that gold tends to require).

So, here's where it goes off the deep end. There are 150+ unique jokers (each split into rarity tiers like a CCG) and winning a run will add a little sticker of whatever stake's color to the corner of each joker you were holding when you finished. A good chunk of these jokers require you to unlock them by winning a run with particular criteria for them to even enter the pool as well. The criteria for the gold sticker achievement is getting a gold sticker on every single joker in the game, and a chunk of jokers in that 150 are ones that can't meaningfully contribute to a combo, can self-destruct, or are just ridiculously hard to build around. If you're playing one of the easier decks and have perfect luck you *might* be able to win a gold with a 3-joker combo and two bullshit deadweight ones, but it's going to be a rarity.

Put all this together and you get a picture of the absolute sisyphean hell that is this achievement. At the minimum you need to 100% everything else in the game just to get the jokers unlocked, and then you're looking at having to do the following runs on gold, hypothetically (ballpark numbers; I'm not doing permutation statistics at 8AM ever again):

30+ winning gold runs with absolute perfect luck assuming you can pick up 5 unstamped jokers each time somehow and pull the jokers that destroy themselves close enough to the end of the run for them to be alive in-hand when it ends (this is impossible)

140+ winning gold runs assuming you can pull a four-card combo and manage to pad the last slot with something that doesn't have a gold stamp.

Balatro being Balatro the latter isn't going to happen either, and the reality is probably 1000+ gold run wins just to get 80% of the cards stamped and probably 20000+ more getting the other 20% to spawn into a build strong enough to carry them. Those are runs that WIN, too, in a game that can end your run whenever it feels like it with one or two extremely unlucky draws.

Welcome to hell, enjoy your complimentary +4 mult.

[bytemee]

toxic till the end — yu jimin.

synopsis. karina is the kind of girl everyone knows—confident, popular, and always the best-dressed. when you get paired with her for a school project, you're shocked, but things only get worse when she starts showing her toxic side.

pairing. toxic & rich!meangirl!jimin x loser(?)! skater!reader

warnings. toxic relationship (manipulation, physical violence, aggressive language, jealousy) sexual content, and let me know if there’s more. time skips/rushed so i didn’t turn this into a full fic

words. 5.8k

authors note. i’m always making reader a loser because im projecting sorry. this is also HEAVILY based on the music video

you know karina. everyone does. she's the kind of girl who owns every room she walks into. her flawless skin, the designer clothes, and the air of absolute certainty that follows her everywhere—she's untouchable. it doesn't matter whether it's school, the mall, or some exclusive party in the city. karina is always the best-dressed, the most confident, the one everyone wants to be around. she has everything—the best grades, the richest friends, and a mansion that could probably fit your entire apartment.

but you've never been part of her world. not by a long shot.

so when the teacher announces the project pairings, you half-expect to be stuck with someone you barely know. but the name you hear makes your stomach twist for a second—karina. you blink and glance around the room, but sure enough, she's looking at her phone like it's the only thing that matters. her eyes don't even leave the screen as the teacher explains the assignment, and when she does glance up, it's just long enough to give a faint nod.

yunjin, your best friend, glances at you with a sympathetic look, but all you can do is shrug in response.

the first time you try talking to her about the project, she's half-listening. you're sitting at the library table, and karina's doodling on the edge of her notebook, looking at her phone again. you make a suggestion about the research, but she just shrugs.

"sure, whatever. i'm good with whatever you want to do." she mutters, glancing back down at her phone. you bite your lip, trying to think of another way to get her attention. you push a little harder, trying to make this work, "you sure? it's a group project, we both have to decide."

karina just gives you that look—one that says, i don't care what you say, because the outcome is the same.

you pause, trying to gauge her reaction, but karina's already back to scrolling through her feed, the sound of her phone clicking lightly in the background. you're not sure if you should push any further. it's clear she's not invested in this—in you—and that stings more than you want to admit.

"okay, then..." you say, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "we'll just go with whatever you think is best."

karina doesn't even look up when she replies. "yeah, exactly."

the rain catches you off guard the next day. you didn't bring an umbrella, and now you're standing near the campus entrance, your skateboard tucked under your arm, waiting for the rain to let up. you're not in a rush to get home—mostly because you know it'll be a long, dull evening. your roommates will probably be out partying or something. and without yunjin, you feel like the odd one out.

so you stand there, letting the rain soak through your jacket as you watch everyone else scramble for shelter.

then, out of nowhere, you hear the hum of an engine. karina's sleek car pulls up, its tinted windows glinting in the rain. for a moment, you think she's going to ignore you, like she does every other time. but instead, she rolls down the window, her face leaning out slightly.

"get in," karina commands, her voice cool and smooth, like she doesn't really care one way or another.

you blink, a little thrown off by the offer. "what?"

it takes you a moment to process her words, and she looks a little impatient when she repeats herself. "get in the car. it's raining."

"um, thanks. but i'm fine, really," you stammer, trying to smile and hoping she doesn't notice the nervousness in your voice.

but karina just raises an eyebrow, like you've said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"don't be stupid," she says, a little too loudly, her tone a little too harsh. you glance down, and your cheeks burn in embarrassment. karina doesn't strike you as the type to offer rides to just anyone. but then again, you're not anyone, are you? you're her partner for the project. you're technically part of her world for the moment, no matter how temporary that might be.

with a reluctant sigh, you climb into the car. the door shuts with a soft thud, and you find yourself in the passenger seat, a little too close to her than you expected.

the inside of her car smells faintly of vanilla. she's wearing a floral perfume that reminds you of the spring, the kind of scent that leaves you a little breathless, a little giddy, and a little too happy.

she's not even looking at you, and that's probably a good thing.

you clear your throat, trying to ignore the heat in your face.

"uh...where are we going?" you ask, not sure if you should say something else. the air feels awkward between you two, still heavy from the silence of your earlier encounters.

karina glances at you for a moment before turning back to the road, her eyes fixed on the street ahead. "to my place. we still need to finish the project, right?"

karina's house is nothing short of a mansion. it stands in the middle of a large estate, with a pristine garden and a driveway that looks longer than your entire block. you can't help but feel small as you step out of the car, your skateboard tucked under your arm like a prop rather than something you actually use.

"you can leave your skateboard in the garage," karina says as she leads you into her house. "we'll be in my office."

the room is much like the rest of her house—everything pristine, clean, and far more impressive than anything you've ever had. she's already seated at a desk, pulling up the files for your project, while you stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of where to sit.

"you're... sure this is fine?" you ask, glancing at the luxurious surroundings. "i don't want to get in the way."

karina barely looks up from her computer. "you're not in the way," she says dismissively, clicking through some documents. "just sit down."

you do as she says, taking a seat next to her. as she leans forward, you catch a glimpse of her profile, the line of her neck and jaw, the way her lips curve into a frown when she's deep in thought. she's beautiful, you realize. she's more than beautiful. she's almost...

...perfect.

"you're staring," karina says, looking up at you, her dark eyes fixed on yours. you feel a flicker of panic, not sure what to say. "i...sorry," you stammer, not sure why the word comes out like that. you didn't mean to stare. but karina doesn't look bothered, her face expressionless.

the project progresses in silence for a while. karina occasionally makes a comment or offers a suggestion, but it's clear she's not too invested. you do most of the work, but there's a strange satisfaction in seeing her just there, even if she's not really participating. it's enough to be with her, you think. to spend a few hours in her company, even if she's not paying attention.

by the time the sun begins to set, you're both sprawled out on the floor with the project almost done, the laptop and a few papers strewn around you. you didn't expect to get this much done, and you didn't expect karina to actually stay with you the entire time, even if she was working on her own stuff.

but it's karina who breaks the silence, "do you want to take a break?"

you blink, a little surprised. you've been so focused on the project that you hadn't even thought about taking a break. but now that karina's mentioned it, you realize how much your shoulders ache and how stiff your back is from sitting on the floor for hours.

"uh, sure," you say, trying to sound casual. you sit up, stretching your arms above your head, wincing a little as your muscles protest.

suddenly, you're outside laughing as you both run around karina's expansive yard. you don't even know what it was that started the game of running around her massive yard, laughing as you dodged between trees and jumped over flower beds. the estate was almost overwhelming, the grass so perfectly green and the gardens so lush and well-maintained, but somehow, it was comforting, too.

you're not sure how long you play for, but it feels like a lifetime. karina is faster than you, and her legs carry her across the yard effortlessly. she's light on her feet, almost catlike in the way she moves, and the sunlight catches her dark hair and turns it golden.

when you finally stop, both of you panting and laughing, she sits on the edge of a large ornamental fountain, and you follow, dropping down next to her. it's quiet for a moment—only the sound of your laughter dying down and the trickle of the fountain.

karina looks at you, her eyes meeting yours. there's something about the way she's looking at you, something that makes your heart race and your stomach do flip-flops.

"you're pretty when you smile," she says.

then, in a blink, before you can react, she shoves you into the fountain. cold water splashes up in all directions, drenching you from head to toe. you let out an indignant gasp, but it quickly dissolves into uncontrollable laughter as you sputter, trying to catch your breath between fits of giggles.

"oops," karina says, looking far too pleased with herself, her hand covering her mouth. "my bad."

you wipe water from your eyes, trying to make it look like you're annoyed, but your smile betrays you. "yeah, sure. 'oops.'"

karina bursts into more laughter, the sound high and sweet. it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard, and for a moment, you forget that you're soaked. you forget about the project and the fact that you'll have to go home later. all you can focus on is the way karina's blonde hair falls over her shoulders, and the way her smile reaches her eyes, making them shine like stars.

you can't help but stare, transfixed.

she's perfect, you think. perfect and untouchable.

karina stands up, "come on, before you freeze to death." she holds out her hand. you hesitate for a moment, but eventually, your fingers close around hers, and you pull yourself up. she doesn't let go. not even when the two of you are standing side by side, her hand still in yours.

you're not really sure what room you're in now, only that it's not the office anymore. you don't care enough to figure it out, either. the lights are dim, the fireplace crackles softly in the corner, and karina is sitting in your lap. she's holding a towel, gently brushing it over your damp hair to help dry it. her hands move slowly, the motion almost hypnotic. you don't even bother resisting the urge to lean into her touch, her body pressed against yours.

"you should come here more often," she says, her voice low. "it's fun."

she's so close, you can smell her vanilla perfume again. it's intoxicating.

"it is," you murmur, and her eyes flicker up to yours, a smirk on her face.

"i'm glad you agree."

"we should probably finish the project," you say, though it sounds half-hearted even to you.

"maybe later," she says softly, leaning closer. her face is so close to yours now that you can feel the warmth of her breath. she hesitates for just a moment before her lips brush lightly against yours.

your breath catches, and for a second, you're frozen.

you weren't sure what to expect, but the simple touch of her lips leaves you wanting more. her eyes flicker up to yours briefly, searching your face, almost like she's asking if it's okay to keep going. without thinking, you lean forward just enough to close the gap again.

she sighs into your mouth, her hands coming up to cup your face, her fingertips brushing along your jaw. the towel falls away, forgotten, and her arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you closer. your hands find her waist, tracing up the curve of her spine and the back of her neck.

you're not sure how long the kiss lasts, only that by the time you pull away, your lungs are burning and your head is spinning.

she's smiling, a real smile this time, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed.

"you're blushing," she whispers, tracing her thumb along the line of your jaw.

"i am not," you protest weakly.

"mhm." karina leans in again, her nose brushing against yours.

"are you going to eat that?"

yunjin's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. you blink and realize you're sitting at the table now, a cookie sitting on the plate in front of you.

"hm?"

she points at the cookie. "that. are you gonna eat it?"

"oh," you mutter, realizing you must've been staring at it while lost in thought. "oh, no you can have it jen."

she grabs it, takes a bite, and gives you a weird look. "hey, are you okay? you're kinda spacing out."

"i'm fine, really," you say, taking a sip of tea, though your thoughts are miles away. karina lingers in your mind, no matter how hard you try to shake her. it's been days since your first kiss—though there have been others since. it felt like you were finally starting to get somewhere with karina. and maybe, just maybe, you were actually a little important to her, too.

yunjin eyes you suspiciously, clearly unconvinced, but she lets it slide. she takes another bite of the cookie and changes the subject, just as chaewon slides into the seat next to you.

"ugh, what are you doing with these?" chaewon huffs, leaning in and inspecting your eyebrows like she's some kind of aesthetician. she licks her finger then starts brushing them with her thumb.

"chaewon," you groan, swatting her away. "stop. you're embarrassing me."

"embarrassing you?" she scoffs, rubbing at some invisible flaw on your face. "i'm fixing you, trust me. if anyone's embarrassing you, it's yourself."

yunjin snickers as chaewon wipes a crumb off the corner of your mouth, ignoring your exaggerated protests. "see? better already," chaewon says, looking pleased with herself.

you roll your eyes dramatically but can't help the tiny grin tugging at your lips. she's annoying, sure, but she's like the older sister you never had. it's hard to stay mad when she means well.

before you can shoot back a sarcastic comment, movement across the room catches your eye. karina walks by with her group of friends, laughing about something you can't hear. you straighten in your seat, your heart racing without permission.

"karina!" you call out, raising a hand to get her attention. "hey! come meet my friends!"

your voice echoes just enough to make a few people glance your way, but karina doesn't even spare you a look. she keeps walking, her laughter ringing out as if she didn't hear you—or worse, as if she didn't care.

the table goes quiet. you can feel yunjin and chaewon watching you, but you refuse to meet their eyes, staring instead at the empty space where karina just was. you feel your face heat up, and suddenly, you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

"ouch," yunjin mutters under her breath, giving a low whistle. "harsh."

you swallow thickly, the sinking feeling in your stomach growing stronger by the second.

"it's fine," you say, forcing a smile.

"uh, i still wanted to show you that trick i was talking about earlier." you try to shift the focus away from the embarrassment still burning in your chest, but your voice wavers slightly. yunjin and chaewon exchange a quick glance, their concern evident despite their best attempts to hide it.

"trick?" chaewon perks up, "what trick?"

you hesitate, glancing at her and then down at your lap. "just something i've been practicing on my board."

"why didn't you mention this sooner?" chaewon leans forward, resting her elbows on the table, "c'mon, show us! i've been dying to see you pull off something cool."

"but uh, yeah, about that..." you scratch the back of your neck. "i don't have my board with me. so, i can't."

yunjin, who had been quietly finishing her cookie, perks up. "you can use mine!" she says brightly, already digging into her bag. "i brought it with me."

"are you sure?" you ask, a little surprised by the offer. you know she doesn't like anyone touching her skateboard. "i don't want to—"

"it's fine," she assures, waving a hand dismissively. "just show us."

the three of you head outside, and yunjin pulls out her skateboard, handing it to you. it's a little smaller than yours, but it feels sturdy enough. after testing the balance and grip, you roll it forward, nodding with approval. a few minutes later, you nail the trick with ease, a grin spreading across your face as you hold out the board.

"that was awesome!" chaewon squeals, practically bouncing with excitement.

"told you it was cool," yunjin says with a satisfied grin.

"yeah, it was," you reply, grinning wider. "thanks, guys."

you spend the next hour hanging out with them, laughing and joking about nothing in particular. by the time the bell rings, you feel lighter, ready to head home and unwind for the day. as you're saying your goodbyes, a familiar luxury car pulls into the schools parking lot.

the window rolls down, and karina peers out, her gaze locking onto you. "get in," she calls, and it doesn't sound like a question.

"i'm good," you say, shifting your bag onto your shoulder. "i'll walk."

"get in the fucking car," she repeats, louder this time, and there's something in her tone that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. she glances at your friends before turning back to you, her eyes dark and intense. "or are you too cool to hang out with me now?"

you freeze. yunjin and chaewon exchange a quick look, and suddenly, you're painfully aware that they're witnessing this. karina's gaze never wavers, her lips pressed into a thin line and her brow furrowed. for a moment, you think she might just drive off and leave you standing there.

"okay, fine," you relent, opening the door and climbing into the car. as soon as you're inside, karina speeds off, the tires screeching slightly as she takes a sharp turn. the ride is silent. neither of you speaks. then you notice the car heading in the opposite direction of your house.

"where are we going?" you ask, breaking the silence.

karina doesn't answer, her knuckles white as she grips the steering wheel. her jaw is set, and you can feel the tension radiating from her. you try again, "seriously, where are we—"

"just shut up," she snaps, "please."

"karina—"

"god," she mutters, running a hand through her hair. "you're so annoying."

the words hit you harder than expected, and you flinch, your eyes widening. she's never spoken to you like this before. not ever. "i'm annoying?"

she glances over at you briefly, her eyes narrowed. "yes. you are."

"why?" you ask, genuinely confused. "because i didn't get in your car right away?"

"yes!" karina exclaims, her voice rising in frustration. "exactly!"

you stare at her, taken aback by her reaction along with her response. a million questions race through your head, and you're not sure which one to ask first. karina turns back to the road, and you can tell she's holding back, biting her lip to stop herself from saying something she might regret.

"why do you even care? i was having fun with my friends. why can't you just leave me alone?"

"i don't care," karina spits out, her words sharp and venomous.

"bullshit," you scoff.

"oh, really?" karina raises an eyebrow. the car suddenly stopping in the middle of the road. "fine, then. go be with your friends. see if i care."

your body jerks at the sudden stop, and you grip the seatbelt tightly, your heart hammering in your chest. there's no way she can be serious.

"you're not serious," you mutter, "you're the one who ignored me in the middle of the dining hall. in front of everyone."

karina remains silent, her gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. the car moves forward again, a little slower this time, and the silence hangs heavily between you. you can't believe she's acting like this.

"just turn around and take me home," you demand.

"no."

"why not?"

"your board's at my place," she says, cutting you off before you can protest. "don't you want it back?"

"i don't need it."

"yeah, you do," she responds, her tone matter-of-fact. "you can't do your stupid little tricks without it."

the word stings. "it's not stupid."

"sure," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "it's not stupid. but it is pointless. and a waste of time."

you swallow hard, your throat dry. you don't know what to say, so you just stare out the window, trying to blink back the tears forming in your eyes. this is a new low, even for karina.

when she parks in front of her house, you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out, waiting by the door while she heads inside. a few moments later, she returns, handing you your board. you take it, inspecting it absentmindedly as karina leans against the doorframe, watching you.

"you never showed me that trick," she says suddenly, her voice softer now.

"yeah, well," you mutter, turning away. "there's a reason for that."

"show me now," she insists, nodding toward the driveway.

you sigh, glancing down at the skateboard. "karina—"

"c'mon, please."

you shake your head, still not meeting her gaze. "forget it."

"it won't take long," she presses, her eyes pleading. "i just wanna see it once."

"why? so you can make fun of me?"

"no," she insists, stepping closer. "i won't. i promise."

without really knowing why, you give in. you roll the board forward and step onto it carefully. as soon as you shift your weight, the board wobbles unnaturally, and before you can react, the screws give way, sending you sprawling onto the ground. pain shoots through your palms and knees as you catch yourself, the board clattering a few feet away.

karina is by your side in an instant, crouching down and reaching for you. "are you okay?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

you sit up slowly, grimacing as pain radiates from your arm. your other hand instinctively cradles it, and you notice the sharp throb in your wrist, which is already starting to swell.

"shit," you hiss through clenched teeth, trying to move your fingers but finding it difficult.

"let me see," karina says, her voice soft yet urgent. she reaches for your arm, but you flinch, pulling it back.

"i'm fine," you snap, more out of frustration than anger. the pain and embarrassment are making it hard to think clearly.

"you're not fine," karina counters, her eyes darting between your face and your arm. "we need to get you to a hospital."

"i said i'm fine," you repeat stubbornly, though you know she's right. the pain is getting worse by the second, and you're starting to feel a little lightheaded.

karina sighs, standing up and brushing off her hands. "get in the car," she says firmly, leaving no room for argument.

you don't have the energy to fight her this time. carefully, you push yourself to your feet, wincing as the movement jostles your injured arm. karina is at your side instantly, steadying you with a hand on your back. you want to tell her you don't need her help, but the words die on your tongue.

the ride to the hospital is silent, the tension between you thick and suffocating. karina's grip on the steering wheel is tight, her knuckles white again, but this time her jaw isn't set in anger. instead, she looks... worried. the sight of her like this makes your chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with your arm.

when you arrive at the emergency room, karina parks hastily and helps you inside. the next hour passes in a blur of x-rays, ice packs, and medical jargon. the doctor confirms it's a bad sprain, not a break, and your arm is wrapped in a snug bandage to immobilize it. you're given a sling to wear for the next few weeks and a prescription for pain medication.

it's not until the two of you are cuddled up in bed, her body pressed against yours, her head resting on your shoulder, that she finally breaks the silence. "i'm sorry," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "i didn't mean to hurt you."

"i know," you murmur, reaching up with your good hand to stroke her hair gently. it's the first time she's apologized for anything.

"you're really good," she says softly, "on your board, i mean."

"oh."

"and the tricks you were talking about are cool," she adds, her eyes searching yours.

"thanks."

"i shouldn't have called them stupid."

"no," you agree, your heart aching again, but not as badly this time. "you shouldn't have."

karina nods, her gaze dropping to the sling holding your arm in place. she reaches out, running her fingers over the fabric. "does it hurt?"

"not right now," you reassure her, the painkillers kicking in.

"that's good," she sighs, her head drooping slightly.

you smile faintly, feeling exhaustion wash over you. "you should get some sleep," you suggest, knowing how little sleep she normally gets.

"you first," she mumbles, her eyes closing.

with a soft chuckle, you pull her closer and let yourself drift off.

karina has been acting strange since the accident—but not in a bad way. there's a new quietness to her, a thoughtful edge that wasn't there before. sometimes, you catch her staring at you with an unreadable expression, her lips pressed together like she wants to say something but can't. every time you ask, though, she just shrugs and says, "nothing."

the two of you are back in her office, putting the finishing touches on your project. the hours stretch on, and the golden hues of the setting sun spill through the window, painting the room in soft orange and pink. the light catches on her face, highlighting her features in a way that almost makes her look angelic.

"are you sure?" you ask, tilting your head to study her.

"mhm," karina hums distractedly, turning back to her computer as though the question didn't faze her.

your phone buzzes on the table, drawing both your attention. glancing down, you see a message from yunjin:

"are you busy tonight? we're going to the skate park."

as you start to type out a reply, you notice karina's gaze flick toward your phone. this time, she doesn't bother hiding it, her eyes lingering for a moment too long. you shift uncomfortably, moving your arm in its sling to shield your screen. her eyes narrow slightly, and you see her jaw tighten.

karina studies you for a moment, her expression unreadable. then, out of nowhere, she jumps up from her seat, snatching your phone from the table.

"hey! what the hell?" you shoot up from your seat, scrambling to follow her as she storms out of the room.

"what's so important on your phone?" she snaps, holding it just out of your reach.

you frown, struggling to keep up with her as she strides down the hallway. you reach out, grasping for the device, but she dodges your attempts, easily keeping it out of your grasp. "give it back, karina," you say, exasperated.

"why? so you can text yunjin and ditch me?" she retorts, spinning on her heel to face you. "are you really that desperate to hang out with her?"

"what are you even talking about?"

karina ignores your question, turning on her heel and continuing down the hallway. she doesn't look back, and you can feel the frustration bubbling up inside you, mixing with confusion. karina's eyes flash. "don't play dumb. i see the way she looks at you."

"oh, come on. yunjin is just a friend."

"sure she is," karina scoffs, her grip on your phone tightening.

"and what about you lee jae wook? should i pretend i haven't noticed how close you two have gotten?" you suddenly mention. karina freezes, her face going pale. for a moment, she looks almost scared, but it's quickly replaced by anger, her brows knitting together.

her eyes narrow, and she takes a step closer, her voice low and dangerous. "what's that supposed to mean?"

you hold your ground, your own anger rising to meet hers. "it means i see how he looks at you, and how you look at him."

"we're just friends."

"yeah? just like you and i are friends?"

karina opens her mouth to respond, but the words die on her tongue. she hesitates, her eyes flicking away. karina looks away, her knuckles white as she grips your phone. then, as if the tension becomes too much, she turns and heads for the front door.

"where are you going?" you call after her, following her down the hallway.

"out," she says curtly, throwing open the door.

"karina, wait!" you step outside just as she rushes to her car. she fumbles with her keys, but when she tries to start the engine, the car sputters and lets out a puff of smoke.

you cross your arms, standing in the doorway. "looks like your car has other plans. just come back inside before you make things worse."

karina slams her hand against the steering wheel in frustration, her head dropping for a moment as she lets out an audible sigh. she stays there for a few seconds before grabbing your phone and storming back toward the house, her heels clicking sharply against the driveway.

"you're impossible," she mutters under her breath as she brushes past you, her shoulder lightly bumping yours.

"what is your problem, huh? you're the one who started this, stealing my phone like some kid."

she whirls around at that, her eyes blazing. "maybe if you weren't so secretive, i wouldn't have to!"

"secretive?" you laugh bitterly, stepping closer. "says the girl who's been cozying up to lee jae wook every chance she gets!"

karina's jaw clenches, her expression darkening. "i told you, there's nothing between us. why won't you believe me?"

"because," you say, the words spilling out before you can stop them. "it's clear there's something between you two. and it's not just friendship."

that's the final straw. before you can react, karina shoves you back, her hands pushing against your shoulders. you stumble, colliding with the edge of a decorative marble statue near the staircase. the wind is knocked out of you as your back hits the solid stone, the force sending a jolt of pain through your injured arm. you grit your teeth, trying not to wince, but the action is futile.

karina freezes as you collide with the marble statue, her eyes widening in shock. but the guilt that flickers across her face is gone in an instant, replaced by frustration.

"what is wrong with you?" she snaps, throwing her hands up. "why do you have to be such a bitch all the time? can't you just admit when you're wrong for once?"

your chest tightens, your heart hammering against your ribcage. the anger in her words stings, and the pain from your fall only adds fuel to the fire. you grit your teeth, pushing yourself off the statue despite the sharp ache radiating from your back. "me? you're the one pushing me into shit because your car won't start."

"because you did something to it!" she yells, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

you shrug, a smirk tugging at your lips. "can you prove that?"

karina lets out a bitter laugh, pacing a few steps before spinning to face you again. "of course it was you. i saw you on the security camera you fucking idiot, don't try and deny it. why would i hurt you when i've never done anything but take care of you?"

"take care of me?" you echo incredulously, "you think i owe you something because you let me crash at your place? is that what this is about?"

karina's eyes flash, her frustration boiling over as she throws her hands up in disbelief. "owe me something? you've got to be kidding me. this isn't about owing me—it's about the fact that i've bent over backwards for you, and this is how you repay me? by sabotaging my car and lying to my face?"

"yeah?" you fire back, stepping closer as your voice rises. "you bend over backwards? don't make me laugh, karina. i know you messed with my board. you think i wouldn't notice? the loosened trucks, the scratches that weren't there before? what, was that your idea of 'taking care of me' too?"

karina blinks repeatedly, her eyebrows furrowing together. "are you serious right now? you think i'd stoop that low? god, you're so paranoid it's pathetic."

you scoff, crossing your arms. "paranoid? you're the one who stole my phone and shoved me into a damn statue because i wouldn't let you snoop. spare me the innocent act, karina. if you wanted to screw me over, you could've at least been subtle about it."

her jaw tightens, and she takes a sharp step toward you, closing the gap. her eyes are burning, and you can feel the heat radiating off her skin as she leans closer.

"fuck you," she growls, her voice low and dangerous. "fuck you, and fuck your stupid project. i don't need you, and i don't need this."

her words hit hard, and for a second, you almost waver. then the anger returns, and you square your shoulders, meeting her gaze with just as much fury. "funny, because you sure act like you do. all this—" you gesture between the two of you, "—feels a hell of a lot like need, karina."

she recoils, her face contorting with disgust. "god, do you ever shut up?"

"why don't you make me?"

the words slip out without thinking. the air hangs heavy between the two of you, and for a moment, everything is still. then, before you can react, her hand is fisted in the front of your shirt, and she's kissing you hard. the kiss is messy and rough, a clash of teeth and tongues. karina pushes forward, shoving you back until your body collides with the wall. the impact sends a jolt of pain through your arm, but you barely notice. her mouth is hot and demanding against yours, her teeth grazing your lower lip.

your hand tangles in her hair, tugging hard enough to elicit a low groan from her. the sound spurs you on, and you grip her tighter, pulling her closer until there's no space left between the two of you.

"that's better," karina mutters against your lips, her breath warm against your skin. her hands find the hem of your shirt, slipping under the fabric. her touch is like fire, sending a wave of heat through your entire body.

"shut up," you breathe, tugging at her shirt, "and take this off."

karina smirks against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded. "bossy, aren't you?" she teases, but her hands are already moving, tugging her shirt over her head and tossing it carelessly to the floor.

[theyluvpeach]

six fit under by the weeknd.

toxicex!reader x toxictaken!matt blurb. ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ you just can't let him go.

warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ: dom to subby matt. meanish reader?? she knows it's wrong but she doesn't gaf. fem receiving. fingering. (matt the munch🙂‍↕️)

You shouldn't be here. You have one of the most important exams of your life tomorrow, but you here you are. At Matt's frat. You're steering away from every drink you're offered, every alcoholic game that your friends want you to play because you know what's gonna happen.

One way or another, you're ending up in Matt's room by the end of the night. You hate admitting it yourself, but he's your Achilles' heel. You can't stop yourself from giving into him.

You run one of your hands through your hair, letting out a deep sigh. "You good?" One of your friends asks, seeing the distressed look on your face. "Fine. I'm fine." You say, beginning to walk off towards the kitchen.

One shot won't hurt.

Five won't be that bad.

Ten won't lead to a terrible hangover. You can handle it.

You can't remember how many shots you took. All you know is that frat boy who said he could take more shots than you is probably throwing up.

You're stumbling off to the bathroom when you realize that you left your phone somewhere in the kitchen, you groan. You just need to check how your makeup looks and maybe pee, then you'll be back in there.

You stumble back as someone bumps into you. "The fuc—?" As soon as you look to see who bumped into you, his cologne fills your nostrils.

"Matt." His name files out of your mouth before your brain can catch up with your actions. He looks you up and down, "You look good."

"I know." You say, "Where ya going?"

You raise an eyebrow. You both know that you know exactly where you're going, you know this frat like the back of your hand.

"Bathroom." You begin to walk again just for him to block your way. "Matt." You say sternly, searching his eyes for the reason he's doing this and you're met with lust. Pure lust.

"You should come to my room."

"I need to check my makeup." He rolls his eyes. "You know I have a mirror in my room." You know know that, you remember when you caught him fucking some girl in front of it.

"Need to pee too—" You try to walk off, but he grabs your wrist, "Come to my room."

"Matt." You say sharply. You're trying so hard to resist, trying so hard to get him to back off. "Please?" He says, low and whiney.

You bite your lip. "Will you finally leave me alone after?"

He nods.

"Fine. Move."

You can see him staring at you from the corner of his bed as you push up your lashes and bend down slightly to fix your dress as you fix your twisted bra. "You look good."

"I know." You repeat. "Like....really, really good." He stands behind you in the mirror. You didn't even hear the bed creak when he got up.

You barely have to blink before his lips are on yours. Your eyes flutter shut. God, how you missed the feeling of his lips against yours.

It's embarrassing how much you let him get away with. He picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist as he carries you over to his bed.

When he throws you on his bed, it's like deja vu, the good kind. A moment you wouldn't mind staying in as his chain dangles in your face, and your eye contact becomes sinful.

Until the thought that he has a girlfriend appears in your mind. You swerve his kiss. "I get you all the way to my bed, and you do thi-?"

"You have a girlfriend."

"Oh, c'mon—" He says, staring down at you with disbelief in his eyes. "Knees."

The way his body instantly responds to your command makes you smile. You wonder if his new girlfriend knows he has this side to him.

You sit up slowly, admiring the sight in front of you. She probably doesn't, the first time you tried to be in control Matt freaked the fuck out.

He stares up at you with those puppy eyes. He knows what those do to you. "You're terrible." It comes out way softer than you wanted it to but you can't think with the way he's looking at you.

He smirks. "You let me kiss you." You scoff and cross your arms. "Before I remembered you had a girlfriend."

"Don't you want me to fuck you?" He presses, parting your legs and pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. "Remember that time I fucked you so hard you couldn't go to class in the morning?"

You avoid his gaze. Your panties are soaked, to say the least. "Yeaaah, let's refresh that memory." His hands slip up to the hem of panties, "Couldn't move, had me carrying you 'round all day...Let's go back to that. Let me take care of you, baby."

His words are getting to you. Bad. You won't give in, you won't. You remember how your heart broke into a million pieces when you found out Matt was cheating on you. You won't do that to another girl.

Yet, you still let him slip off your panties. "Fuck, you're dripping, sweetheart. You were craving me, huh?"

You won't give in. You won't give in. Yet you make no moves to push him away as he presses soft kisses from your inner thigh up to your core.

Fuck it.

You pull his head back his hair, causing him to let out a whimper. "You're not fucking me."

"What—?"

You tug on his hair harder, making him whine. "You're eating me out." He eyes you with disobedience, "Do you seriously think you deserve think to feel good after what you did to me? You're lucky I'm even letting you near me."

The venom in your words is wounding, but he still doesn't think you're serious. "Y/n—"

You lean foward and tug his face to you. Making him let out the most pained sound you've ever from him. "One more fucking word Matt. One more word that isn't you saying yes, you're not even gonna get this. I'm gonna storm out of here, find your girlfriend and telling her what a fucking asshole you are." He gulps as you threaten him gravely, but the tent in his jeans gives off another emotion than scared.

"Th...that hurts." He whines. "What's it gonna be, Matt?"

"I'll...I'll eat you out." He mumbles. "Louder."

"I'll eat you out."

You finally let him go from the deathgrip you have on his hair. "Are you gonna be a good boy?" He nods eagerly. "Say it."

"I-I'll be a good boy for you... Mama."

"Good boy." The way his ears turn pink almost makes you feel bad for how mean you just were to him. Almost.

He wets his lips and leans in before licking at your clit, he eyes you. You tilt your head at him, knowing exactly what he wants. "Gotta do more than that if you want praise, baby."

He furrows his brows together. Matt slips his fingers inside you, making a scissor motion. You gasp at the stretch. You haven't been the most sexually active ever since you guys broke up.

"T...tell me I'm doing good, please?" He mutters against you, causing you to moan. You want to, but you'd rather see him needy and wanting.

You bite your lip and refuse to let out any moans as you watch the attention he's paying to your clit increase and feel his fingers reach deeper inside you. "Ma, pleasepleaseplease—" He mutters against you again, placing sloppy kisses down your pussy. "M being a good boy, isn't that what you wanted?"

You let out a loud gasp as he reaches that special inside you, "S-see— m making you feel good? Please?"

You can't take it anymore. Him thrusting into that spot repeatedly with his fingers causes you to fall flat against the bed. "Yeah— you're being a really good boy Matt— being ah— such a good boy for me—" You say, getting interrupted by moans. It only spurs him on more, making him latch onto your clit.

You practically scream. "Matt— matt— ohmy— Your back arches off the bed. "Please." He whines, taking a break from sucking your throbing nub. "Can you feel clenching down on my fingers."

"Wan' me to come for you—?" You choke out. "Please, Mama, been so good for you."

"Fuck—fuuuuck— baby, m coming!" You scream, coming all over his face. You whine as he spreads your legs wider to lap up your release.

You pant heavily as you come down from your high, squirming as you feel Matt still working in between your legs. "M..matt." You say weakly, he ignores you. Pussy drunk.

You pull him by his hair. He pouts, slowly pulling out his fingers. "Just wanna taste you." He says, hair sticking to his face from your release.

You smirk down at him. "Bet you're all hard from that, huh?" He nods slowly. "Tell you what," You sit up, "Make me come again, and I'll think about letting you fuck me."

The way he immediately tries to dive back into you makes you laugh. You have to throw your doggy something.

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizzzsstuff @sosasturns

[charmedimsure]

Your writing is just fucken scrumptious 🌟🌟 if you don't mind, Can you write about Thanos's reaction to a Nana osaki fem! Reader? (Like reader got her style, career, and personality) {plus points if reader is pierced, like Se-mi} You can make this into a one shot if you like ;))

i have beef with you, anon. i watched the first episode to try and get a better grasp on her personality and i got hooked. holy crap that anime is sad but so good. decided to add others cuz i fell in love with this character

SQUID GAME X NANA OSAKI! READER

including: thanos, nam-gyu, dae-ho, in-ho

warnings: squid game stuff, blood, violence

THANOS

Thanos is not completely sure how he got himself in this position.

He's laying on the floor, his throat being squeezed by player 001, who's fist is positioned to hit him again.

"I'm sorry," Thanos manages to get out with the bit of air he still has in his lungs. "Please. Please let me go."

Player 001 let's go and he rolls over, bringing his own hand to his throat as he tries to suck in deep breaths to get as much oxygen into his lungs as he can.

The players around them break out in applause, praising the man for beating up Thanos. As the man walks back into the crowd, the soft sound of laughter can be heard from behind Thanos.

The rapper turns, ready to tell off whoever it is that's laughing at him. His words die on his tongue when he sees the source of the laughter is you.

You're sitting on your bunk, head tilted back in laughter. Your hair falls to the side, exposing your piercings. And for the second time today, Thanos' breath is stolen from him.

The next day he approaches you right before the second game.

"Señorita, excuse me."

You turn, an amused smirk gracing your face as you recognize the boy speaking to you. "Oh, it's you. How's your throat?"

He knows you're making fun of him, but he can't help the small flutter in his heart because you remember him. "Let's play the game together."

You bring your hand up to support your chin, showing off your rings. "Yeah? Why should I?"

One of the players behind him gives you a dumbfounded look. "Don't you know who he is? He's Thanos the rapper."

You chuckle as he recites one of his lines. Truth is, you do know who this is. You and Thanos had played at a few of the same places. You doubted he could remember though. He was always high out of his mind.

The other player behind him puts a hand on his shoulder. You recognize him from one of the clubs you play at. Nam-gyu, if you're remembering correctly. "Hang on, a girl? We don't know what the game is."

Thanos pushes him away, his eyes still on you. "I'm gonna destroy anyone who gets in my way," he says, punching the air in front of him.

You let out a chuckle. "Whatever, man. Just don't get me killed."

NAM-GYU

"Two."

Nam-gyu turns to Thanos, ready to run into a room with him. It's the last round and they're definitely getting out of here alive.

Thanos shakes his head quickly, looking between the three of you before ultimately grabbing Min-su's hand, dragging the boy toward one of the rooms.

Nam-gyu just stands there, watching as the person he's looked up to since before they even ended up in this shithole chooses some kid over him.

"Come on!" you yell, grabbing Nam-gyu's wrist and pulling him along after you. He nearly falls over but stays on his feet, running after you to a pink door. Nam-gyu goes in first.

As you're entering the room, a man grabs you by the hair, yanking you backwards and out of the room. He takes a step forward before a foot makes contact with his crotch, causing the man to let out a yelp of pain. He falls to his knees, revealing you standing behind him.

You push him out of the doorway, coming in and closing the door just in time for it to lock.

Nam-gyu stands in the back of the room, massaging his wrist where you grabbed him.

You catch your breath, looking at the man in the room. "Sorry, did I hurt you?"

Nam-gyu scowls at you. "You could've broken my wrist, you bitch."

You scoff, putting your hands on your hips. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

Nam-gyu just glares at you.

"You've been rude to me since you met me for no damn reason. And now when your 'friend' chooses someone over you and I step in to save your fucking life, you're still finding things to complain about!" You huff. "Get over yourself."

You turn your back to him. Nam-gyu thinks about your words. You're right, he has been rude to you since you joined their team. He was really just jealous because Thanos was paying more attention to you than to him. And now you're the whole reason he's alive and all he had to say was "you could've broke my wrist".

You pace back and forth, trying to get over you anger without physically attacking the boy standing by the other wall. You hear him mumble, which gets your attention.

"What was that?"

He sighs. "I said thank you."

You just look at each other. You study his face, seeing a hint of remorse in his eyes. You nod, a silent 'you're welcome'.

"Let's just hope those two idiots made it to a room on time."

DAE-HO

Dae-ho looks through the crowd of people. He'd jumped at the chance to prove himself a useful team member and find a fifth person for the game, but now he's struggling to choose. Everyone is either already in a group or isn't the kind of person the others are expecting him to bring back.

"Hey," a voice says behind him.

Dae-ho whips his head around and his jaw practically falls to the floor when he sees you looking up at him. Your hands are shoved into your pockets, the expression on your pierced face calm despite the situation you're in. Dae-ho is sure he's never seen a girl who looks more intimidating than you. Or more beautiful.

"Do you have a team yet?" you ask.

Dae-ho just stands there, staring at you with his mouth still open, brain trying to comprehend the words you just said to him.

You furrow your brows. "You okay, dude?"

He snaps himself out of it, nodding. "Y-yeah, I'm... uh... I'm f-fine."

You smirk as he tumbles over his words, finding the man endearing. "So, do you have a team yet?"

He nods. "Uh, yeah, yeah I do have a team."

The smirk on your face drops. "Bummer." You take one of your hands out of your pocket, giving him a small wave as you take a step back. "Well, good luck."

"Wait!" Dae-ho yells louder than he meant to, gaining the attention of a few people around him. You look back at him, an eyebrow cocked. "We, uh, actually need one m-more person, if you want to join." He knows you're not the person they wanted Dae-ho to find, but he has a good feeling about you.

You smile at him and he swears this is heaven. "Yeah, that'd be great."

He leads you through the crowd towards his own team. Jung-bae is the first to notice him. "Dae-ho, did you find someone?"

Dae-ho nods shyly, stepping to the side to reveal you behind him.

Jung-bae's smile falters. "This is who you got?"

You look between both players. "Is this a problem?"

He puts a polite smile back on his face. "No, miss, not at all. We were just expecting him to bring back someone more..."

"Male?" you finish for him. You look at the other men in the group. "It seems like you have enough testosterone in this group already."

Player 001 steps toward you. "Are you confident you can win this game?"

You nod. "I don't plan on dying in this place."

He turns to the others. "Let's let her join."

Player 456 steps forward. "I agree."

You turn to Dae-ho, smiling and giving him a small thank you nod.

He smiles back, a blush coloring his cheeks as he kicks at the sand on the ground.

IN-HO

"I saw what you did, you sick fuck!" a voice shouts.

In-ho looks up from his coversation with Gi-hun, eyes immediately finding the purple haired player in the middle of the floor. Another player is standing behind him, chest puffed out.

A plastic spoon is thrown at the purple player's chest. In-ho looks across the room to see a girl marching toward him. You. Your fists are clenched and the look on your face could send fear into the hearts of anyone.

Player 230 chuckles. "Saw what, Señorita?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," you growl. "You pushed those people! You killed them!"

"They would've died anyway!"

"They could have made it!"

He laughs again. "Who cares, it's more money for us." The player behind him, 124, snickers.

You scoff. "Well, why don't I do us all a favor then and add another 100 million won to the pot?"

Player 230 laughs out loud, raising an eyebrow at you and stepping closer, "Oh yeah? And what are you gonna be able to do?"

Gasps come from everyone in the room as you lunge at him, knocking the both of you to the ground. Player 124 watches with an open mouth, too shocked to do anything.

Player 230 looks up at his friend. "Help me, you fucker!"

Player 124 nods and kicks you off of 230. You manage to get to your feet, throwing a punch at 124.

He stumbles back, touching his fingers to his nose and pulling them away to find blood. He grits his teeth at you. "You bitch!"

He swings at you, which you manage to dodge until the other player kicks you in the back of the knee, sending you to the ground. You kick his legs out from under him, getting on him to hit him again.

In-ho stands up, pushing past Jung-bae and Dae-ho to the center of the room. He pulls you off of player 230. You try to attack him again but In-ho has a tight hold on you, putting his body between you and the rapper.

"They're not worth it," he says to you. "Don't get yourself hurt over this."

You look at the rappers face, smirking when you see the imprint of your ring on his cheek. You throw the man's arms off of you, wiping the blood from your face with your sleeve as you walk back to the bunks, a few players on the sidelines clapping for you.

In-ho turns to face the boys. Player 124 is helping 230 off the ground, both bleeding. Scratch marks can be seen on 230's face from your nails. He's lucky you didn't claw one of his eyes out. He looks back at you, watching you sit down on your bed, holding your sleeve up to your split lip.

You're someone he's gonna keep his eye out for.

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5 @skywalker0809 @zannispppp @lianobody @ihrthoney @machii-d3arr

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck @ally1uvsu @hiphip-horray @k1michii @tpwkcaryslizb @louissst28 @sshwaa @jennwonwoo @sunnysurvives @lalalaa2210 @tayshs @sunshinethatlooksalive @plntmxrss @lxnnrobin @mariaxman @alexx-iia @batty-barty-crouchjr @kxsm3t @takuma-talkz @peacemakersbeloved @skywalker0809 @soobinbunnie5 @dragons-h0ard @silas-222 @putrescentpoet @chrisgetsmewetter @sunhyeswife @smile1318 @casually-simping @slvtforfakemen @ang3licbabydolly

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[kneelbeforeclefairy]

HI HI ITS ME HI! I have been diagnosed with both of those! I think I do have both. The sleep doctor said I can't have both but it's possible I have a hybrid of the two? And they gave me the initial diagnosis of non24 but then another doctor said he didn't believe I had that because largely blind people had it but I was like HI I CAN BE THE EXCEPTION TO THE RULE it does occur it sighted people.

And boy if it's not apnea they have no idea what to do. I did a sleep study and apparently I had some minor apnea but not even enough to qualify as sleep apnea,but all they wanted to talk about was a CPAP or a night guard and I'm like. Guys. When I'm not hooked up to 1001 machines once I sleep I sleep well. Can you listen to that and focus on my actual sleep issues. Barely. Also I had to fill out a sleep log for two weeks or whatever and thank God it was during covid so it did show some of my "natural sleep" but because it wasn't even every day the doctor didn't think I had non24. Well of course it wasn't and even 2 hours later every day. I FIGHT It. I've learned how to fight it. Also like. I didn't have steady work but I had shit to do so some times I had to get up at a certain time.

And when I tried to get them to focus on the sleep disorder weather it was delayed sleep phase or non24 I got told basically. All you can do is control your light intake. Can I put a light box at my desk? Nope. Don't have a desk also i was an early childhood teacher so I sit in the dark for an hour twice a day while babies nap. Oh that's unfortunate. Try micro dosing melatonin. Honestly haven't given that the old college try because melatonin has such a ??? Effect on me that I have been too scared to give it a shot again because I have to get up for work the next day

I think it's just such a fucking awful way to live. I like having a "name" for it. Nice knowing what's going on. But there's still no answers as to how to help. But between that and ADHD it makes time SO difficult to understand and use effectively. And I'm constantly tired. Constantly. Because even if I get eight hours of sleep the delayed sleep phase means I don't feel rested if it's too early. And even if I fall asleep at a reasonable time and get up early for work the next day and I'm fine, within a day or two or three depending on how good I'm fighting it, I'll start going to be a little later. I think my "day" is 26 hours. I'm programed for about eight hours sleep and 18 hours awake, give or take a little. And that....that doesn't work with the real worlds 24 hour day and work schedules that start the same time every day.

Part of me thinks I'm kind of a mild case because I've learned how to live with it and I can hold down jobs it's just harder. But finishing school? School when first period was at 750 ? It's not THE reason I didn't finish high school but it's one of them. But also I've had this since I was a baby. My mother didn't know much from babies, but Ive worked with them for years now and now I know. No. It is not normal for your five month old to not fall asleep until 11pm-midnignt. I still slept the same AMOUNT of hours. But mom could start putting me to bed when I was eight pm and she'd just be rocking me for four hours and I'd fall asleep at 12 anyway, or just start the routine at 10pm and hope. My entire life was fighting my sleep cycle.

I didn't know there were so many of us.

one of the most enlightening realizations ive had was finding out that non-24 hour circadian rhythm people were a pretty large group and most of us have oddly similar cycles of usually around 28hr internal "days" and this masquerades as "insomnia" but if allowed to sleep and wake naturally we will just advance forward through time an extra 2-4 hours a day at a relatively stable pace. we can't go to school or jobs or even run errands on normal schedules without massive pharmacological and behavioral intervention. most of the people who have been diagnosed or figured it out themselves will report horrific, life-ruining disruption in their professional lives and terrible health from accrued lack of sleep. this disorder is most common in vision-impaired people which seems to suggest it's related to light cues. anyway just thinking about this as extremely loud yard work woke me up at 8am for the second day in a row

[eff4freddie]

Date Night

aka the Sexorcism, an After She Left one-shot Words: 6k

Explicit - Minors DNI

It's been a few weeks since Jackson's second attempt at a prom, and even though you and Joel are finally together, it's hard to move past some of what it took to get there. But it's OK, because you've got an idea.

Warnings: Here be smut. PIV, no protection (don't do that and especially not in an apocalypse), praise kink, dirty talk, 69, nose riding, after all that angst finally we just get to watch these two fuck, it's been 84 years... A/N: I miss these two. And I'm ovulating. So y'know, time for a smutty little mini story I guess. You are welcome to read After She Left before this, but you don’t gotta to enjoy the smut.

You couldn’t understand how it was possible, to be so bone-tired that you weren’t sure how you were keeping your head on your shoulders, but so wired that you could barely keep your feet from tapdancing under your desk.

In front of you, the classroom sat quiet in the lazy afternoon sunlight, the half-hour of reading time you’d instituted after lunch giving you enough time to roll your shoulders and remember the heady days of abundant ibuprofen.

It was Joel’s fault you were so tired. He had a habit of keeping you up late, nestled into the crook of his neck on your couch as he told you what Tommy was like as a teenager, told you about how he was awkward and clumsy in high school, how he found he liked shop class because everyone had to wear ear muffs and he didn’t feel the need to be talkin’ all the damn time. Told you about Sarah, about her brilliance and her tinkly little laugh, the love for her radiating from him, warm enough to seep into your bones as you sat beside him. You loved your evenings on the couch with him, listening to the rain on the roof or watching the fire crackle, reading by the lamplight and ignoring when he snored, lightly, beside you. You wanted so many more of those nights, all of those nights you could get.

It was Joel’s fault you couldn’t sit still. Borne out of some kind of Southern manners, whatever was left of them after the end of the world, he’d apparently taken a vow of chastity since that first morning in that random bedroom in the town out to the West, your gasping need for him so acute after Shauna’s betrayal, after nearly losing Ellie, after waking in Joel’s arms. You weren’t sure what was driving it, his sudden reluctance, but it felt clawing and cold, something grasping at his belly from beneath the ground. A new kind of virus that fed on doubt and unfinished sentences.

Two nights ago, restless and unable to settle on the couch beside him even after he tucked the blanket over your bodies and read to you from some paperback Tommy had found on patrol months and months ago, you had felt the words clawing their way up your throat, bilious and corrosive, crafty enough to slide between the gaps in your teeth.

‘What is this, Joel?’ you asked him, your voice louder than you realised in the quiet of your living room. He paused, his whole body going still. You waited for him to turn to you, growing impatient when he stared, resolute, at the page in front of him.

‘Be more specific, baby,’ he said, after a beat or two, and you swallowed, adrenaline pumping hard enough to keep you on a roll.

‘You kiss me, and we cuddle on the couch, and you told me you loved me the night of the Prom, but then since then it’s been…I mean, I don’t know how long since then-’

‘-six weeks and four days,’ he interrupted, and you paused just long enough to allow your surprise to register. He had been counting? Was that a good thing, or a very bad one?

‘…Right,’ you went on, ‘it’s been that long, and you haven’t…we haven’t…’

He sighed, putting the book down, and you thought for a moment of a disapproving principal discovering his favourite student accused of passing notes in the back row, of an exhausted and disappointed father looking at the clock as his recalcitrant teen snuck in an hour after a curfew, of a surly and disapproving boyfriend strung out by his girl’s hysterics. You felt the jolt of anger behind your sternum. First he was counting and now he was sighing at you? Who the fuck did this overgrown apocalyptic cowboy think he was?

‘M’house is so quiet,’ he said, looking down at his lap to avoid looking back at you. He knew, of course he knew, that he’d let it go on too long. That he’d promised on the steps of the mess hall to talk to you, to communicate more, and that he’d told himself that’s what he was doing when he kept you up all night yapping, in the hope that you’d get too sleepy to turn him out. He wasn’t sure how to explain himself, wasn’t accustomed to this level of intimacy, and it had been easier, so much easier, to tuck you up warm and safe on your couch and read t’ya then to ever have to speak out the truth.

‘What do you mean?’ you said, trying to keep your tone even as you felt a pinprick of fear pierce the comforting self-righteousness you had been wrapping yourself in.

‘When I’m over there, it’s just me…’ he went on, quiet, muscles drawn tight into stillness. ‘Swear sometimes I can hear the wood rottin’ in the floors it’s that quiet.’

You swallowed, your stomach sinking. Ellie had been with you now for nearly three months, and she had brought into the house chaos and warmth and terrible baking, endless sketches spread out over the kitchen table, a feeling that the place was as much hers as it was yours now, that it was for the both of you.

‘S’not just that,’ he went on, his brows saddled. ‘She was there…slept in my bed.’ At this he paused and turned to you, panic on his face. ‘I was always on the couch,’ he clarified, and you nodded at him.

‘I know you were,’ you assured.

‘Just like it over here, is all,’ he shrugged. ‘S’warm over here, and it’s got my girls in it.’

‘But then, why…?’ you asked, not able to form the words ‘haven’t you taken me up the stairs and ravished me three ways from Sunday’, letting the gentle implication rest, instead.

‘Because Ellie’s here,’ he said, simply. ‘I mean, I know she’s not always here, sometimes she’s out at Dina’s, or she’s at the movies with her friends. I know that.’

‘You worried Ellie’ll come home and see you nose deep between my thighs on the carpet?’ you asked, smiling, trying to lighten the mood and it worked a little, Joel letting out a pleased huff.

‘If that’s all I’m doin’ to ya she’d be lucky,’ he said, and you felt the blooming heat on your cheeks. ‘It don’t feel right comin’ in here and…sullying the place, I guess. Know I’m a visitor here, know that this is a special place for you girls.’

You considered this for a moment. He still didn’t feel home here, you realised. He was keeping a safe distance, a respectful distance, a visitor to his not-daughter and his girl.

‘We want you here, Joel,’ you said, and he hummed in a kind of acknowledgement.

‘This is her space, she carved it all for herself, and I can’t be…too much in it,’ he said, after a while. You could see this was hard on him, talking about it just as much as thinking about it. You nodded your head.

‘What about if we went to yours?’ you asked, and he sighed. You hadn’t been there since Shauna ruined your cake, since Ellie had moved over to yours, since you and Joel had finally found your way to be together. He worried, even if he would never find the words to really explain it, to you and also to himself, that the memories of all that hurt would carry themselves on the tiny motes of dust, catch in your lungs and poison you of him, infect this fragile little thing he and you were nursin’ between his outstretched hands.

‘Can’t put you out,’ he muttered.

‘I’ll give you a few days to clean the place up,’ you said, definitive. ‘I want that place spotless so we can get in there and defile the shit out of it.’

He barked, a kind of surprised but joyful exhalation. He fuckin’ loved you, even if you did boss him around.

--

You considered it a sexorcism, of sorts. Joel was right, you realised. Shauna had been hanging over the two of you ever since you were almost and then not quite and then finally some kind of together. You had wanted to throw caution to the wind, had wanted to be the kind of person that didn’t care about getting hurt, that walked the plank with her eyes open, but that wasn’t the world you lived in anymore. That wasn’t what kept people alive twenty years.

So, you’d hung back, maybe let him keep you safe and warm on your couch, maybe terrified to puncture something gentle and ill-formed, let the comfort of it wrap itself around you until it started squeezing the air from your lungs.

You called the end of the school day early, completely unable to concentrate on Mika’s book report when the book he was reporting on was another comic from 2001, and not a single child under your tutelage had complained about leaving after lunch. It was a Friday, and that meant it was movie night in town so all the kids would be heading there after dinner, and you wanted to go home and shower, smear some powder made of ground up rose petals and talc on your cheeks, try and find a pair of underwear with the elastic still intact.

You wanted to work Shauna out of your system, while comprehensively working Joel in. Your hands had been tremoring all day. You felt like you were fourteen, like this was the first date of your life, like a virgin on her wedding night. You felt like an idiot. You felt like your skin was a size too small. You felt, not for the first time, head over heels for this man.

The sun was setting as you made your way over to his place, watching most of the town gather at the mess hall as you slipped behind side fences and onto Joel’s front porch. You’d barely stepped a foot on the first step before he was pulling the door open, what you had come to think of his best green flannel tight over his biceps. You stepped forward, a shy little grin on your face as you noticed he had slicked his hair back, freshly showered and smelling faintly of pine even from this many paces away. You felt the blush creep up your cheeks as he turned the full intensity of his gaze to you.

‘Hey,’ he said, stepping forward and extending a hand to you. You’d barely laid your palm in his before he was caging your fingers, gripping you and tugging you into him, his other hand falling to the small of your back as he pulled you backwards into the house, chest to chest, nose to nose. ‘Longest fuckin’ afternoon of m’fuckin’ life,’ he said, and you managed to squeeze out a giggle before he was on you, his lips hot and hungry, his hand reaching up to cradle your jaw as he opened it.

You might have gasped a little. You’d kissed him before, of course you had, but there was something in it now, something urgent and anticipatory, that had both of your pulses racing under your skin. You felt the scruff of his whiskers against your cheek as he nuzzled at you, your hands settling on his waist and pulling him closer to you, like you could climb him, like you could open his chest and settle yourself there against his sternum.

‘Fuck,’ you whispered, an understatement. He exhaled through his nose, pulling up long enough to gaze down at you, holding your face gentle and strong in his paw.

‘Wanted this for so long,’ he muttered. ‘Been so stupid makin’ us wait for it.’

‘Sssh,’ you whispered, reaching up to cup your hand over his mouth. His brows raised in surprise but he stood still, letting you muzzle him. ‘No more of that,’ you instructed, and he nodded slightly under your hand. ‘Y’got me now, Big Bad Joel Miller,’ you reminded him, and you watched as something dark, something sinful, sparked behind his eyes.

He gently pulled your hand away. ‘She wet for me, baby?’ he asked, and you shivered, spellbound by the sin of it, by the promise. All you could do was nod, watching as his eyes drifted closed, as he let out a quiet moan. You reached down, your fingers ghosting over the fly of his jeans, to feel the bulge of his cock, the straining flesh just under the denim.

‘Want you, want this,’ you whimpered, catching your bottom lip between your teeth as you gazed up at him. He grinned.

‘C’mere,’ he grunted, lifting you wholly over his shoulder and making your shriek, your laughter catching in your belly as he gripped the back of your thighs.

‘Joel!’ you squealed, struggling against him as he held you fast, pivoting you both towards the stairs.

‘Quit wriggling,’ he grinned, lifting a hand to gently swat at your bottom, chuckling as you gasped. ‘Oh, you don’t mind it when I’m mean t’ya,’ he observed, his chest swelling in pride, as you hung over his shoulder.

‘Shurturrrp’ you gritted out, your world upside down as you watched the stairs fall away behind you. He chuckled again.

In his bedroom he set you right, surprisingly gentle, at the foot of the bed.

‘Arms up,’ he instructed and you found them raising above your head unbidden, barely a thought having passed before they acted of their own accord. He pulled up your shirt, the fabric clinging to you where you had started to sweat, and you wondered why you’d bothered agonising over the decision as to what to wear when he was going to peel your clothes right off you the moment he could. Down to your bra you watched as his eyes lit up, roaming over your chest as he lifted his hands to your shoulder blades and brought you closer to him.

‘God damnit,’ he muttered, ducking low to come eye-level to your tits. ‘So pretty, baby,’ he praised, reaching over with one hand to cup the swell of your breast, his thumb rolling the nipple over the cotton. The simple movement sent lightning bolts of clawing pleasure through to your cunt, your tremulous pulse thrumming between your thighs. Impatient, you reached down and lifted the flesh from your bra, watching his eyes glaze over as he observed them drop.

‘Fuck,’ he whispered, as you reached out to thread your hands through his curls, to steady yourself and to feel him, to draw him to you, to bring his mouth to your nipple, feeding him your tit like a dying man on a desert island.

‘Jesus…’ you whispered as he sucked, swirling the tightening little bud beneath his tongue. You had felt what it could do to your cunt that one night on the couch months and months ago, had thought about it in the quiet moments, in the dark moments, between wakefulness and sleep. You gripped his hair in your fingers as he whimpered a little, a happily little grunt forming in the back of his throat.

You were going to be the death of him. Perfect tits in his face, warm and soft skin under his tongue. From here, even through your little skirt, that he was sure had at one time belonged to Maria, he could smell your arousal, longed to reach out and gather your slick between his fingers, lick them clean of you just to get them dirty in your cunt all over again.

He could feel his cock, hard and urgent against the zip of his jeans, and if he hadn’t been so hellbent on wringing the pleasure from you he would have shucked off the denim and taken care of himself right then and there. Breath ragged, he instead steadied himself, closing his eyes to imprint the taste of your skin on his tongue, as he unlatched.

He kissed you again, your head cradled in his hand as he stepped you towards the bed, the back of your knees butting up against the mattress. He wanted to do this right, had been thinking about it for weeks, for months. The first time he was with you he knew he had used you for his own comfort, trying to embed your warmth inside himself so he could take it with him on cold mornings. The second time it had been to ground you, to push back the grasping dark. Tonight, it would finally be just to love you. To feast on your body, to pull the moans from your throat and the breath from your lungs. To undo you, to let you undo him in kind.

He felt your little hands scratching as his belt, huffed out a little laugh as you unbuckled him, a look of concentration setting lines into your brow.

‘Easy, baby,’ he whispered low, reaching down to hold your hand in his. ‘We got all night.’

‘Waited forever,’ you muttered, frustrated. ‘Please, Joel, want you in my mouth.’

He groaned, momentarily frozen, as his cock registered what you’d said before his brain did. ‘Can’t say shit like that t’me, sweet girl,’ he warned you, as you reached up to him, pulling his mouth back onto yours to silence him.

‘Please, baby,’ you whimpered against his lips, resting your hand on his neck where you could feel his racing pulse. He nodded, just enough that your hands were again at his belt, your fingers easing down his fly and reaching in to grip him, watching his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as his breath stuttered.

You knew he was big, but it still surprised you, the true weight of it. You slipped it from his underwear, pulling it clear of the waistband to rest in your palm.

‘Wait,’ he muttered, and you stilled, watching him compose himself under furrowed brows. You grinned up at him, thrilled by the power you had over him in this moment, watching as his hands shook. Then he rolled, hooking his legs under your knees until you were on your side and he was up again, back on his feet as he reached out and pushed your skirt up over your waist.

‘No, Joel I…’ you started, but stopped when a thick finger traced its way over the folds of your underwear, already soaking the cotton.

‘Smell so sweet,’ he said, almost to himself, before addressing you properly. ‘You really think you could make me wait for her?’ You could only moan in response as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband, the callused skin of his fingertip meeting your aching, welcoming folds.

With his other hand he shucked his jeans over his hips, pushing them down until they gathered at his feet, his underwear going with them. You gazed, heavy lidded, as he crouched over you, pulsing cock hanging heavy between his legs. Not for the first time you considered that he resembled a roman warrior, carved out of marble, when this was all over considered crowning him in laurels for the sight of his abs alone.

‘Stay there,’ he instructed, slipping his fingers from your folds despite your protests and going instead to stand behind your head. He pulled you towards him by the shoulders, until your head was dangling over the bed, his cock now jutting out just in front of your nose as you hung between his thighs. It was obscene and you loved it, tracing back the veins on the underside of his cock to the thicket of his wiry hair, mapping it first with your eyes, and later, your tongue.

You opened your mouth.

Joel gasped, the sight of you prone beneath him, little pink tongue pillowing out of your mouth to accept him, your cunt scenting the air around you with your arousal as you reached to his thighs to bring him to you. He groaned, taking a step or two forward, resting his knees on the edge of the bed as he lowered himself to your glistening lips, your neck straining towards him. Gentle, so gentle with your pretty throat, he slipped the head past your lips, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt you stretch your jaw to accommodate him.

You groaned around him, his cock only just slipping past your tongue, feeling the saliva pool at the side of your mouth as you welcomed him. You let your eyes slip closed, feeling him pulse on your tongue as your head bobbed over the side of the bed to take him in, startling a little when you felt his hands reach out again to cup your tits, still sitting over the cups of your bra. What a sight you must have been, you mused, tits out and skirt shucked up over your hips like a whore, swivelling and writhing on top of the bed in the hope for some kind of stimulation over your aching, pulsing cunt.

‘So good, baby,’ Joel groaned above you and you felt more slick pooling between your thighs, his fingers again tweaking your nipples as he manhandled you from above. You relaxed your jaw, concentrating on breathing through your nose and letting your pulse lessen, feeling your muscles go slack as he worked himself further into your throat.

Joel couldn’t tear his eyes away, watching as his cock bulged in your windpipe, distending the flesh. You groaned, gulping down on him, swallowing around his pulsing flesh and making him count backwards from a thousand so as not to end it right there and then. You were sinful like this, eyes watering from the stretch, grasping at his thighs and pulling him closer, forward, moaning.

‘Oh, my sweet filthy girl, so good t’me,’ he praised, as he knelt over you, bending at the waist to slide his hands down your body and again cup your cunt. You jolted, a shuddering little sigh leaving you as you felt his fingers press again at your lips. ‘Lose these,’ he said, ripping the fabric of your underwear from you and pulling your knees up, planting your feet on the blankets beneath you. You felt even more exposed to the room, dripping now onto the bedspread, and you felt yourself fluttering, your cunt pulsing against nothing, the libidinousness strangely freeing as you released Joel’s cock from your throat just to lift your head and suck one his balls into your wet heat.

‘Ha!’ Joel gasped above you, watching as his glistening cock sat fat and heavy along your nose, your eyes still shut tight as you slurped happily on his ball. Your other hand reached up to weigh and tease the other, the combined sensation sending shockwaves down his shaft. He forced himself to breathe, taking loud and slow inhales and exhales through his nose, sliding a fat finger into your cunt to both reward and punish you for your trickery.

You groaned, the heel of his palm resting heavy on your clit as he pistoned his finger in and out of your slick. Careful not to jostle you, he shifted his weight forward, coming up on his knees on the edge of the mattress and leaning, moving his hands to plant beside your hips. You gasped as you realised what he was doing, rolling your hips to angle yourself towards him, feeling the lips of your cunt unfurl under his hungry gaze.

‘God, she’s so perfect,’ you heard him groan, settling down on his elbows and dipping his head between your thighs. ‘Prettiest cunt I ever saw.’ You pulled your mouth from him just long enough to gasp ‘all yours, all for you Joel’ before he descended, fastening his lips to your tight little bud as his nose parted your folds beneath it. You writhed, all thoughts evaporating from your mind, as you felt your hips grind into his face.

‘Fuck, oh my god Joel!’ you rambled, the weight of his body pressing down against you as his cock bobbed just at the end of your nose. He didn’t respond, not with words, deciding instead to pull your clit between his teeth. You felt your eyes roll back in your head, your hands grasping at his thighs, your mouth opening just enough to rub the underside of his cock against your tongue. He shuddered and you did it again, licking a stripe along his flesh before you lifted your head and angled the head of his drooling, heavy cock between your lips again.

This was war. This was a race. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of winning, of making you come, before he’d shot his load down your throat. In response to your renewed determination Joel shuddered, a long, low moan reverberating along your tortured bundle of nerves as he pushed his nose deeper into your core, wiggling it there. Your scent surrounded him, your scorching folds opening beneath his ministrations, and combined with the shocks of pleasure you were wringing from him he had to remind himself to breathe. He couldn’t think straight, saw stars fizzing behind his eyelids, felt the headiness of your slick, the scent of you surrounding him, drawing him in deeper, down further, your pretty little mouth torturing him while you drowned him with your cunt. ‘This is what those sailors crashed their ships into the rocks for,’ he suddenly realised, the only vaguely cogent thought he could muster.

You tried to lie still, tried to hold back the pleasure building at the base of your spine, but you were writhing, riding the bridge of Joel’s nose as he pushed it further inside you, clit caught between his lips as he suckled. He wasn’t playing fair, you complained in your head. How could you concentrate on beating him when he was trying to suck your soul out through your cunt? You tasted salt on your tongue, opening your eyes to watch his hips stutter, his whimpering little moans coming more frequently now as his cock started to dribble. Again, you reached up to cradle his balls, your jaw aching, saliva dripping past your chin, as you felt his shaft pulse with his need.

You couldn’t last much longer. You wanted it to go on forever.

You desperately, urgently needed to come.

Joel raised his head, rutting against you as he fisted the blankets.

‘Baby, you gotta…won’t last if you…’ he stuttered but you ignored him, doubling your efforts despite the way your head had started to swim. He gasped, pistoning his hips into your mouth by pure instinct, curses flowing from his mouth as he gazed down at your dripping folds.

‘Yeww furrsht’ you grunted, bobbing your head against the edge of the mattress in time to his thrusts. You felt him laugh, his belly and his chest shuddering, as he gently, heavily, lifted himself back up on his knees.

‘Ok baby, you win,’ he said in mock surrender, crawling onto the mattress beside you as you caught your breath. You ignored the way the room swam, slightly grey at the edges. A victory was a victory, after all.

‘Jesus Christ, all this time we been dancing around each other you had that mouth on ya?’ he sighed, shaking his head. ‘I’m a damn fool.’

You grinned, reaching up to wipe your chin and massaging some of the ache from your jaw.

‘Enough of that,’ you said, reaching out to rest your hand on his bicep as he gazed down at you, warmth in his eyes.

‘Didn’t wanna come like that, baby,’ he whispered, reaching out to push your hair behind your ear, trailing his hand along your jawline to fall, delicate and heavy all the same, atop your chest. ‘Not ‘til I’m deep inside ya.’

You shivered, the heat of his words amplified by the sincerity of them, by the gentle filth he was whispering with reverence. You ached, now, a kind of cavernous feeling settling inside you as your cunt fluttered. You let your eyes drift down, to his throbbing cock resting heavy on the blankets beneath him, the tip leaking and an angry red.

‘Please,’ you whispered, gazing up at him again as he ran a fingertip down your belly to nestle, warm and safe, inside your core.

‘Ok, baby,’ he whispered back, shifting his weight to position himself, lifting your legs by the knee to cradle his hips between them.

He notched himself at your entrance. You felt yourself go soft, didn’t realise you were holding your breath. ‘Love you, my sweet girl,’ he said, bringing his lips down to yours so he could catch them between his teeth as he pushed inside you. You moaned, the hot sound of your pleasure ricocheting around inside his mouth, as you lifted your hips to welcome him in.

‘Doin’ so good,’ he praised, reaching down with one hand to rub gentle circles on your clit. ‘I got you, baby. Let me make you feel good.’

You nodded, your eyes falling shut at the stretch, the sting in the core of you giving away to a pulsing kind of pleasure, a destruction and a remaking.

‘Oh, God…’ you whimpered, as he nudged his nose to yours, smelling your arousal on his skin as he dipped his head lower again to kiss you. Again, he pried you open, held you fast with his lips and with his cock, as you let him consume you all the way down to your last atom.

He was everywhere, his weight and his heat surrounding you, so overwhelming, so encompassing, that you felt tears gather at your cheeks. You shifted, lifting your head away and up to the crook of his neck, sinking your teeth into his skin to nibble on him, to take some part of him into yourself, to let the primal take over, in your writhing hips, in your gnashing jaws.

Joel groaned, the feel of your bite driving his hips further, reaching down to hitch your leg over his hip, sawing in and out of your swollen, dripping cunt, feeling your walls flutter as your hands clawed at his back.

‘That’s it, sweet girl,’ he encouraged, as he felt you piston your hips to meet his. ‘Work me into that sweet little cunt.’

You whined, the pleasure of it overwhelming you, releasing his skin from your mouth just to arch your head back, extend your neck and suck in lungfuls of air just to bellow them out as he brought you, overwrought, to the very edge. You could feel your cunt clamping down on him, could feel your slick gathering beneath you, sodden, on the blankets. Could hear your cries of pleasure as if from a distance, could barely recognise them as your own.

He was going to end you. You were going to let him.

‘Want your come in me,’ you rambled, pausing just long enough to take in Joel’s moan. ‘Want to drip you until tomorrow, go off to the mess hall with your come running down my thighs.’

‘Fuck,’ Joel exclaimed, wondering exactly what kind of hell beast his cock had unleashed, and if he should warn the other residents of Jackson. He fucking adored you, and your filthy mouth, and in that moment all he could think of was filling your sweet little pussy to the brim, lashing you to the bedpost and not leaving you until you were dripping him. Keeping you tethered and fed and leaking him, barefoot in his kitchen ready to hitch your skirt over your thighs and swallow his heaving cock into your scorching little cunt.

You could feel his thrusts getting sloppy, his hips stuttering as he gasped, resting his lips on your forehead as he whispered filth you could barely make out into your skin. You could feel your cunt tightening, your stomach muscles curling up to pull your hips further towards him, your shoulders tight as you gripped the blankets beneath you. You could feel it, the winding of the spring.

‘Oh, can feel her grippin’ me,’ Joel mumbled, ‘she gettin’ ready to explode, sweet girl?’ he asked, and you could only nod, eyes shut tight trying to hold back the pleasure.

‘Good girl,’ he groaned and you shuddered, lighting shooting through your core at his casual but devastating praise. ‘Come for me, sweet girl, let me have it,’ he grit out, shifting his weight to rest on one elbow and run his hands down to rub again at your straining clit. You gasped, the air knocked from your lungs by the sudden pleasure of it, and you felt your jaw lock as you clamped down on the feeling.

‘Joel, you’re gonna make me…’ you started but found yourself entirely unable to finish the sentence, the tremors racing up your sides and rendering you speechless.

‘Do it, baby. Gonna paint this sweet little cunt full’a me,’ he promised, and you felt it, then, the point of no return.

‘Joel!’ you exclaimed, eyes wide and searching his as he rolled his hips, holding you steady in his gaze as you came apart around him, fucking you through it as you writhed, his own release chasing soon after as he felt you fluttering walls grip him, milk him, releasing deep into your cunt molten and scorching, his pleasure and his love.

--

On aching legs, you ambled your way out of the bedroom, the morning sun just spreading itself over the mountains, casting the halls in a golden glow. Joel’s snores drifted down the stairs as you went, following you into the kitchen and embedding themselves deep into the tattered lace of the curtains. You knew Joel had some coffee, he’d bragged about Tommy bringing some back for him on patrol, and even if it was twenty years old you still felt the man had earned it, your cunt still pulsing from his ministrations the night before.

While you waited for the water to boil you stood, leaning your hip into the counter. But for the snoring the house was quiet, but it was a calm kind, a peaceful kind. You looked over at the kitchen table, to where you and Ellie had first met after school for her tutoring lessons, to where Joel would bring you both dinner in what you had initially thought was some kind of paternal gesture and what you now realised was a ploy to make sure you didn’t leave.

You glanced over to the couch, resolving to bring over some blankets from your place such that Joel could tuck you up in them over here, too.

You poured out a coffee, knowing without having to ask that Joel would take it black. The air felt livelier, somehow, the promise of something riding alongside the dust motes.  As you moved through the quiet, your footsteps back up the stairs barely left an echo.

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[wardensantoineandevka]

Kind of similar to what you're talking about with the writing, but I'm shocked at the lack of praise Veilguard gets for it's cinematography and direction. I'm no film expert, but I was absolutely blown away by it.

The devs are taking advantage of camera angles, composition, lighting, improved facial animations, etc, etc, to make very cinematic and striking images to go along with the writing and voice acting in ways the technology just wasn't able to in the first three games.

One of my favorite scenes is the first scene with Solas in the dream sequence, where you talk one on one for the first time. The point where Solas yells, "They said they were gods!" (Didn't look up quote, might not be exact), and then the ledge Rook is standing on crumbles so they are no longer on even ground with Solas. The camera gives us a wideshot to emphasize Solas standing above Rook, pacing back and forth, and lecturing Rook about the "blighted, tyrannical gods."

They put an amazing amount of insight into Solas' character in that one shot.

Anyway, all that to say, what's your favorite Veilguard cinematic sequence?

Same! I'm surprised there isn't more discussion about its cinematography and direction too! But then again, I wonder if that's the case because people get really stuck on its art direction and dislike the more vibrant style, decision not to do the more "realistic" (emphasis on the quotes) color palettes or the darker visual palette, and on insisting that the characters don't look good (let's not get into that, but it's ridiculous).

I agree that the team was very much taking advantage of how good the game looks, and that there's a lot of really strong images and cinematic shots. The example you pulled is a very good one—and exactly for the reason you cited! And an early strong one. Every time they pull to a wide shot too of that chasm between Rook and Solas in those conversations is always very good too.

My personal top favorite genuinely is the sequence leading into the regret prison. The quick flash of Varric over Lucanis. Solas stalking behind Rook, but vanishing every time something obscures him. Rook falling into the Fade, Solas standing over them as they struggle to hold both their regrets and the dagger. Great use of blocking in that sequence, the way that things shift and change when you, or Rook, stops looking at them. Very aware of the camera and the visuals there. Genuinely an incredibly effective sequence.

I also do think the visuals in the scene where Emmrich becomes a lich, the portion in the Necropolis, is also very strong in terms of cinematography and image-making. Generally, I do think that Emmrich's questline is one of the best in terms of direction and cinematography of the companion quests. It's certainly, for me, the most consistently striking in its compositions and visual framing. The image-making in that quest is justttttttt so good.

I do have to shoutout Siege of Weisshaupt as an out-of-cinematic-scene entry for this because it also has strong direction and cinematic framing. I know it and the sequence into the regret prison might feel cliched as favorites, but they genuinely are just SO strong in terms of visuals, direction, and cinematic framing.

[newkatzkafe2023]

Sooo there’s this trend I’ve seen going around where it’s basically someone copying someone’s snaps, and then they basically just flex their muscles, and the person copying the other person is just RIPPED. I was wondering how that would go with the monkey kings, where they’re joking around with the reader and just asks them to flex, and it just turns out the reader is SUPER muscular

MAMA IS BUFF💪

(Lmk Wukong) I can see him flexing his muscles as a joke, especially when he's busy shouting and bragging to Mk. Though he would joke to you and also show off his good looks which you called him handsome on multiple occasions. You told him and Mk that you your own muscles as well, and of course Wukong asked you to show him, thinking your joining in on the fun. Until when you did you flexed your muscles so hard your sleeved ripped, cue Mk's blown mind and Wukong's jaw touching the floor. He also might be blushing and drooling very hard as he pushes Mk out the house so he can jump your bones🤤

(HIB Wukong) Man he would think the concept of flexing is stupid, and thinks it's purely for showing off.(Which is rich coming from him🙄) However Luier was on his motor mouth moments and asked Wukong if he still has his muscles, and of course he was against it. Though that's when you tell Luier that both you and Wukong have muscles, it's just not seen too often. Wukong, though, you were exaggerating and just telling Luier anything to keep him for bothering him, so he asked about it. That's when you sighed and showed your BULK Biceps ripping the sleeves slightly. Luier began fanboying and shooting questions at light speed. Meanwhile, blood shot out of Wukong's like a water fountain, mumbling as he had a physical breakdown.

(NR Wukong) I'm sorry but this man is a hyperactive bean pole, you would think that all the CENTURIES of battle he would have some kind of bulk but no. However he did share some stories with you and Li about when he was at his prime. You would laugh at his exaggerated muscle mass, and that's when Wukong challenged you to a flexing compilation. Though that quickly backfired Spantacularly when you flexed so hard you shredded a perfectly good jacket, your muscular body would ruin him beyond repair. you would have this man screaming from the roof YES MISTRESS! DESTROY MY SKINNY ASS! BREAK ME IN HALF LIKE A KIT KAT BAR!🥵 I don't know how somebody can get even more shameless.

(MKR Wukong) Oh this should be hilarious, I mean Wukong clearly doesn't need muscles to cave somebody's face in. Wukong would roll his eyes at the idea of flexing, and also thinks it's stupid. That's when you told him about your own muscles as you walked together on patrol, Wukong immediately thought you were messing with him. Their is no way you looking all pretty and Dainty could ever have muscles like that, However It didn't stop him from asking to see out of curiosity. I KID YOU NOT, but the second you flexed those perfect biceps, back and shoulder muscles boy did Wukong acend to a whole new plane of peace and love with his demon boner. You should probably take him to the doctor 😬

(Netflix Wukong) Oh god you don't want to absolutely destroy this little boy's self-confidence, which is why you kelp your muscles to yourself. Though let's face it he has spaghetti Ramen arms to the point where even his staff would have more muscle then him, but that's besides the point. Wukong would loudly and desperately show off his own muscles despite them looking like twigs, is when he challenged you to flex. Wukong asked if you have any muscles not expecting you to say yes, he also wasn't expecting you to have an entire body made of muscles what's really killing him is those big Juicy thighs muscles. You mean if my mommy gets mad at me enough she'll crush my head like a watermelon??? Wukong fell into true madness that day, mentally and Sexually.

(BMW Wukong) OHHHHHHHHH GOD NOOO UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES, CAN HE KNOW ABOUT YOUR MUSCLES because once he does it's over. Wukong would brag for hours and hours about his physical physique as he shows off to impress his dear wifey who is you. However, you didn't tell him about your own muscles mainly because you once felt insecure about them. You got a bit tired of him running your mouth, so you decided to show him your muscles, and boy, was that a game changer. You would have this man re-evaluating his life like you gave him a good crisis. You mean to tell him that this entire time you could have at any time absolutely break his back like an F*CKING GLOWSTICK...........but chose not to...his boner is soooooooo hard and Pulsing that he can't afford to wear pants right now.

(Destined one) Oh lord you would shock the poor baby into another layer of silence if you ever flash your muscles like that. The Destined one has no interest in flexing or in muscles, despite him being battle driven however I think it would peak his curiosity if he learned that you have muscles. The second he learned that you had one of those body builder muscles that can rip clothes off like tissue paper, he couldn't handle it. Im not kidding the Destined one Collapsed on the floor like he was having the most severe seizure of his immortal life. Next time he wants to see those muscles in actions in your shared bed at home😳

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG💪

[writingwithciara]

aggravations -nico hischier-

summary: after a particularly tough game, nico comes home and accidentally lets his frustrations out on his roommate, shifting their relationship in the worst way

word count: 3.3k

pairing: nico hischier x roommate reader, jesper bratt x best friend reader

notes: had this idea written down in a notebook for a long time. i can't believe nico is injured now 🥺 also i couldn't decide which gif to use so i chose all 3 because he's too cute 😍😊

y/n watched the devils game on the edge of her seat. she had gotten home from work just before the 2nd period started and she watched her best friend & his teammates play their hardest.

jesper took several shots on goal but only one made it in. he had tied the game just as the period was ending.

the third period was way more intense, however.

no shots were going past the goalie for either team and she could sense the frustration from each man. even through a television screen, it was easy to tell that jesper and nico were taking it the hardest. perhaps it was because she lived with nico and had known jesper her entire life basically.

she glanced at the image of the man that popped up on her screen. nico's stats so far that season had been impressive. but the broadcasters were comparing them to his performance on the ice & it wasn't good. and it wasn't fair to him.

things only got worse when the other team finally scored. y/n watched as the camera focused on nico's face. he wasn't mic'd up but she was an expert lip reader.

what the fuck was what he muttered. and it tugged at her heart as she watched the waves of frustration roll off him.

his frustration translated into his playing style and shortly before the end of the game, he got tripped and fell awkwardly. he had to be helped off the ice.

y/n watched as her best friend winced in pain while they helped him off the ice. she immediately got to work on setting up the apartment to cheer him up and help him feel better about the injury.

but the moment he walked in the door, everything fell apart. nico was more frustrated than he was at the game and whenever y/n would try to talk to him calmly or try to help with the injury, he would only get more upset. it culminated into chaos when he finally raised his voice and said the one thing y/n thought she'd never hear from him.

"god, i just can't stand having you here."

she was nearly speechless as she felt the tears prick her eyes. but she managed to get out a few strangled words. "screw you, nico."

"y/n, i didn't.."

but nico's apology fell on deaf ears. y/n was already in her room, grabbing a bag and throwing clothes into it. nico stood in her doorway.

"y/n, please." nico watched her every move and felt terrible. he never meant to say those words to her. he was frustrated beyond belief and instead of thanking her for her efforts, he screwed up.

y/n grabbed her bag and shoved past nico rather roughly.

"y/n where are you going?"

"none of your business, nico." y/n fought hard against her tears as she headed to the door.

"y/n please."

"no, nico. you don't get to say those things and act like i'm the one who hurt you." she grabbed the handle and took one last look at nico before slamming it in his face.

she got in her car and let the tears finally fall. she didn't know where she was going but she needed to put distance between herself and the apartment.

so, she drove. she didn't care what time it was. she just drove. by the time 7 am rolled around, y/n was wide awake and still in her car. she turned off the 'do not disturb' feature on her phone and stared at her screen as the texts from nico came through. mostly generic apologies.

i'm sorry please come home i'm really sorry i didn't mean it where are you? are you safe? if you won't come home, please tell me you're safe i don't know what i'd do if something bad happened to you seriously, please text me even if it's to say you hate me, which i deserve please

even though she was upset as his words replayed in her head, she couldn't help but feel bad.

instead of replying to his text, she checked the one from jesper.

hey. nico just called and told me what happened. please tell me you're alright

she hit the call button and he answered before it rang a second time.

"y/n, are you okay?"

"physically, yes. but i've been up all night just driving around town and i'm exhausted. plus, my heart feels like it's been blown up or something." she sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"you know you're welcome to come by and get some rest here. i won't tell nico."

"i should probably get some rest, huh?" y/n started her car and connected her phone to the bluetooth. "thanks, bratter. i'll be by in a few minutes."

"i'll have the guest room set up for you."

"greatly appreciated." y/n sighed and drove to her best friends house. when she arrived, jesper handed her a cup of coffee and let her take her time as she rested in the guest room.

a few hours later, y/n woke up and ventured back into the living room. jesper was waiting for her.

"hey. how are you feeling?" he asked as she sat down.

"a little better. i'm rested but i'm still incredibly hurt."

"that's understandable. nico told me he snapped at you but he didn't tell me what was said."

"after the game," y/n sighed. "he came home and i was trying to cheer him up. figured he could use it. but he got even more frustrated and said that he couldn't stand having me there."

"he seriously said that?" jesper's eye widened. "y/n, i'm so sorry."

"you don't need to apologize. it's not your fault, jesper." she looked at her friend. "maybe it's mine. maybe i pushed it a little too far."

"no. you definitely didn't do anything wrong, y/n. and i'm sure nico feels the same way. we had a bad game last night and i'm positive he didn't mean to take it out on you. that man adores living with you."

"i'm sure he does. but i need time away from him. to clear my head, and whatnot."

"that's understandable. and you're more than welcome to stay here. the guest room is yours."

"i appreciate it jesper." y/n stood up. "you guys have an away game soon, don't you?"

"yeah. 2 days in florida then we're back here."

"okay. that might be enough time to clear my head." she nodded and headed into the guest room.

2 days later, as jesper was getting ready to head to florida, he stopped by y/n's room to check on her.

"hey. are you sure you'll be okay here until i get back this weekend?"

"i'll be fine, jesper." y/n smiled. "you're going to crush it in florida. guaranteed. tampa and florida won't stand a chance."

"no they will not." he chuckled. "i'll be back saturday night."

"looking forward to it."

while he was away, y/n watched both games on the tv. nico was not playing to his strengths and while it wasn't hurting the team, she could tell it was messing with him.

and she wanted nothing more than to be there for him. she just couldn't bring herself to forget what he had said to her. it was still a sore spot for her to even think about.

when the last game was over, tampa had completely shut out the devils. y/n had to turn the tv off before they did the post-game interview with nico. she couldn't listen to him beat himself up over their loss.

on saturday night, jesper walked through the front door, waking y/n. she had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room just over an hour prior to his return.

"oh shit. i didn't mean to wake you."

"it's alright." y/n got up and followed jesper into the kitchen. "i watched the games."

"i'm sorry."

"i should be the one saying sorry to you. you guys tried your best out there. but both of the florida teams are brutal. you guys fought a good fight."

"not as good as we normally do." jesper ran a hand through his hair and looked at y/n. "nico is blaming himself for the loss."

"i figured he would be." she sighed. "it's not his fault though. you guys are a team. you win together and you lose together. the blame should never fall on one specific player."

"i know. but try telling him that. he thinks just because he's our captain that he's supposed to carry the weight of it all when we end up sucking."

"i would tell him. but i'm still mad at him. for everything."

"well if it's any consolation, he's suffering. bad."

"good." y/n straightened herself up and looked at jesper for a second. "i'm going back tomorrow to get my stuff. and i'm gonna take it to a storage facility & i'm going to tell nico that i'm moving out."

"y/n, you know that's going to crush him." jesper shook his head. "you and i both know what happened last time someone broke his heart."

"i'm not breaking his heart, j. maybe we've just grown apart over the last few weeks and he's finally had enough." y/n shrugged.

"i can see i'm not going to be able to convince you of anything regarding nico. so i feel like i should end this conversation by telling you that you're welcome to stay here as long as you need."

"thanks, jesper. i'll see you in the morning." /n patted his shoulder and went to her room. she was out like a light.

the next day, y/n drove slowly to nico's apartment. she was procrastinating and she hated it. it meant that the longer she put it off, the more likely she'd be to move back in with nico. and she was sure that he wouldn't want that happening.

she climbed out of her car and rode the elevator to the right floor and stood in front of the door, unsure if she should knock or walk in. after debating with herself for 2 minutes, she decided to just use her key.

as she entered the front hallway, she surveyed the room. it was quiet. which meant nico wasn't home. she already knew that, seeing as how jesper had informed her of an afternoon skate for the team. and that was why she decided now was the perfect time to get her stuff.

unfortunately, time was not on her side.

just as she was packing up a third box, the front door opened and footsteps approached her bedroom door. she looked up to see nico standing in the doorway.

"you're back."

"just packing up my stuff, nico."

it was then that he finally glanced around the room, taking in all the boxes and the mess on her bed.

"you're leaving?"

"i have to." she stood up and stacked the box onto the others. "i'm taking most of my stuff to a storage unit until i get my own place & i'll be officially out of your hair by friday at the latest."

"i don't want you to go, y/n."

"i don't really have much of a choice, seeing as how you can't stand me being here." y/n brushed by him while she headed to the kitchen.

"come on. you know i didn't mean that."

"it sure seemed like you did." y/n sighed and turned to face him, recognizing for the first time, the tears welling up in his eyes.

"i didn't." he reached out for her but she moved back. "uh, where will you be staying?"

"with a friend. you don't know her. she's from work."

"okay. as long as you're safe, i guess." he ran a hand through his hair. it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he loved her. "y/n?"

"what?"

"um, nothing. it's not important."

"okay then." she grabbed her favorite mug and headed to the front door. "goodbye, nico."

"goodbye." he muttered to the closed door. he was 2 seconds too late.

the next 2 weeks were harder than ever for nico. and in turn, they were also harder for the team. it was hard on jesper too because he was stuck watching his two best friends slowly shut themselves down.

he couldn't stand it anymore. so after a huge shutout, with the opposing team winning 6-0, jesper walked into y/n's room without knocking.

"dude, what the hell? ever heard of knocking? i could've been naked."

"i really don't care." his tone came out a little more harsh than he intended it to. "i'm sorry. didn't mean to sound rude there." he sighed. "look, you and nico are not children, y/n. but with the way you two are acting, it would sure seem like you were."

"well what do you expect me to do? my best friend decided that after one bad game, he was gonna come home and rip my heart out. and he did it so easily too. that's what hurts the most. like it was building up for years and he was just looking for an excuse to let it out."

"he didn't mean it and you know it. plus, he's apologized so many times. and i'm really tired of you two agonizing over what happened. and nico hates himself for than ever. isn't that good enough for you?" jesper looked at her. "you haven't been to one of our home games in a long time. can you please come to tomorrow night's game?"

"i don't know, jesper. what's in it for me?"

"a happy best friend and 2 weeks of me waiting on you, hand and foot?"

"fine. but it's for you and you only. that means you gotta play your ass off."

"for you? anything." y/n smiled and jesper walked out into the hallway.

the next night, y/n found herself in the stands, watching as jesper passed a shot to nico. he hesitated for a second but it was enough for him to calculate the shot. he took it closer to the net and sent it flying past boston's goalie.

2 minutes later, nico was passing to timo. he also ended up scoring.

2-0 new jersey.

by the end of 2nd period, the score had jumped to 4-0, with 2 assists and a goal from nico.

during the jumbotron flashed each players headshot along with their selected photo. jesper's popped up and it showed him smiling with his team and y/n.

when nico's picture came up, y/n felt her walls breaking down. the picture nico had selected was one of the two of them. he had his arm around y/n and while she was smiling at the camera, nico's eyes were glued to her. he was even sporting the wide smile that prominently showed off his dimples.

her heart melted as she averted her eyes and fiddled with the hem of the jersey she was wearing. it was a hischier jersey and she had been hesitant to put it on before the game. but now it was making her feel warm inside.

as the boys took to the ice for the final period, y/n's eyes instantly glued to nico. she couldn't take her eyes off of him even if she tried. he was her sole focus now. and she loved it.

by the time the game was over, new jersey had shutout the other team 7-0. it was a monumental win and y/n knew they'd be excited so she hurried down to where the girlfriends and families usually were and waited for nico and jesper. as she waited, she chatted with jack's mom, ellen, who had traveled to come see her boys play.

she had her back turned towards the locker room doors when nico walked out. but he knew it was her. he was shocked and pleased she was not only at the game, but wearing a jersey with his name across the back.

he watched as ellen made a gesture and y/n turned around. when their eyes met, nico couldn't stop himself from propelling forward and yanking her in for a hug. he didn't care that she was still mad at him. he needed this more than he thought.

and when she hugged him back just as tight, he glanced down at her.

"you're here." he whispered, as if he was still in disbelief. "you're actually here."

"i know." she smiled. "i didn't want to come at first, but jesper's offer was too tempting to refuse."

"what offer?"

"that man is now my servant for 2 weeks, correct?" she glanced behind nico at the swede who just exited the locker room. he stopped in his tracks and smiled.

"that was the deal, wasn't it?" he chuckled. "wait, does that mean you're staying for 2 more weeks? because i think it'd be difficult to wait on you hand and foot if you're not under the same roof as me."

"you've been staying with jesper this whole time? how did i not piece that together?"

"because you're an idiot." jesper smiled. "but that's okay. we still love you anyway, nico." he patted his captain and walked away.

nico turned back to y/n & his smile began to fall as he came to a conclusion. "you guys aren't, like, hooking up....are you?"

"me and jesper? no. absolutely not, nico." y/n couldn't help but chuckle. and suddenly, she found the courage to tell nico what she recently discovered. "i love you, you idiot."

"well that's a relief." nico chuckled. "wait. me? you love me?"

"yes. i figured it out recently and once i realized how much my life sucked without talking to you every day, i noticed that it was why your outburst hurt way more than it should've. i got scared and after you said you couldn't stand me being there, i realize now that it was because there was no way you loved me too."

"that's not true. i do love you. and i didn't mean what i said." he looked at her. "after you left, actually while you were packing, i knew that it hurt you and i couldn't forgive myself. i wanted to reach out to you over and over again but i figured you needed your space so i stopped after the first night. i wanted you to have the space you needed. but i regret ever uttering those words. they were harsh and extremely uncalled for. we had a bad game but you didn't deserve the frustration and i am so, so sorry."

"nico, it's okay. it's part of your job."

"i never want to do that to you again." his large hands framed her face as he held her. "move back in with me, please? i'll take over jesper's servant duties if that's what it takes." he sighed. "please? i just need you close to me in whatever way you'll allow."

"okay." y/n smiled contently and nico wasted absolutely no time. he was eager to crash is lips to hers. it was everything he had ever dreamed of, and then some.

"i love you so much. it was unbearable being away from you."

"i love you too, neeks. and i'm here to stay."

"good. i'm glad to hear it."

jesper leaned against the wall, not far from his friends, and smiled. they were perfect together and he knew that more than anyone. thank god he was able to push them back together. suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

"wait, does that mean i don't have to be your servant anymore?!"

[unluckilyimnot]

Hihi!!^^ Could you please make a bllk and/or bonten hc where she has a friend who always tries to one-up her to get her bf?

You can include all the characters you like and if you do, have fun writing it!!^^

Friend trying to win your bf over/talking shit behind your back

Characters: rindou, ran, mikey, chifuyu, wakasa,

Note : Hiii! Thank you sm for this request! I hope I did it well and you'll like it ! I did both bllk and tr but I'll do it for more fandom I write for bc I like it lslsls like genshin and windbreaker

Tell me if anyone want one with a character in particular (hc / one shot...)

Bllk ver.

m.list | rules

Rindou

Acts sarcastic around her all the time

Fake being interested then stop listening and ignore her

"Is that so ?" With a eyebrow lift and his face unbothered

He wants her to feel bad and like shit, seek attention she'll never have because he's more busy with anything else than her

He wants to feel 10 time worse than what she tried to make you feel

He's mean about it, giving her false hopes

But he never hides it from you, you know it all and honestly you're the one feeling bad for her

He has to remind you himself the shitty friend she is and that she deserves it

Ran

He's not that mean, he knows you like her dearly and does his best to not sighs when she talks

No needs to say that from the start he doesn't really like her

But when she starts talking shit about you behind your back, with him around ? He really got that she was on another planet

It got worse when she speaks to him directly, how she put herself above you, with a fake empathic smile

"Weird way to flirt with a taken guy, talking shit about his girlfriend"

He sounds unbothered but his eyes are cold while he drinks

He probably drink it in one shot and move back to you and tells you

Wakasa

Younger Wakasa would've probably killed her on spot

Older him is more composed, but not without thinking the same

He feels you tensed when she starts speaking about your common dance class, his arm tighten around your shoulders, as if he was asking what's up

His eyes turn cold when she ask him how bad you were at it after he came once

"Excuse me ?"

She sits up straight and, sadly, couldn't turn her gaze away from her when she wishes she had

"I think you're the only one remembering it that way."

He's not joking around when it comes to you, and she for sure regretting it when everyone stopped listening to her around the table

Chifuyu

He's silly and kind, it's good to be around him you get that and all your friends feel safe around him for this reason

But you never expect to one of them to turned it against you when he's just nice and making sure they're safe

You're choked the first time you heard her talking like this about you while you were go for a few minutes, with him sitting next to her

"I've never noticed though, I have no idea what you're talking about"

He plays dumb but you can tell in his voice is not joking around anymore

She's doesn't insist when you came back, but he makes sure to mention it so you can defend yourself

And when everyone take your side you felt slightly better, even more with him taking your defense without hesitation

Mikey

That's the worst idea anyone can have

Mikey thinks so highly about you, maybe a bit too much but that makes him your number one supporter

Looking down on you to try to win him over is the dumbest thing to do

He's quick to react, the second she pushed you down to her up, his eyes are on her and he's moving closer

"Talk shit about my gf one more time, I dare you"

He doesn't do anything else, doesn't touch her but that's because he respects woman and don't fight people who can't defend themselves

Or else he would've hit her in the face

"Get out while I'm still being friendly"

No need to say you never heard of her again

[nezz-cringe-crib]

not not not normal about the machinery/technology themes in L's english musical lines it has me in a grip.

all the characters actually have such clear themes and motifs but i especially love how L's is so subtly crafted.

there's obviously "The Game Begins." very clear machinery themes. pixels and code and blahblahblag sad technology boy. BUT IT CONTINUES IN OTHER SONGS TOO!! WHICH IS SO NEAT. AND THE PLACES THEY CHOOSE TO PUT IT IS SO GOOD in fact here's a whole list of bits i can pinpoint:

Secrets And Lies: - "All of the data has been analyzed" - "What other data does he have to see?" - "The truth is hard to sort out"

The Way Things Are: - "The cold, hard truth / Can't shut it down... / You can't turn it off" - "I won't let who I used to be... / Get me out of sync" - "I'll turn into a different me / Not so cynical / Not so clinical" - "Frame by frame / I see this movie in black and white / Shot by shot / Minute by minute..."

The Way Things Are (Reprise): - "I win the game / Gotta calculate one last trick"

The Way It Ends: - "Go through the motions like the hands upon a clock" - "I'm like a software program caught inside an endless loop / Just bad code that keeps repeating" - "It's like I'm hitting all my marks, as if I'm acting in a play / So out of character, yet somehow not a shock" (THIS ONE I LOVE THIS ONE IM TALKING ABOUT LATER) - "My camera's cloudy lens now / Takes much darker pictures than before" - "See it flicker, hear it humming" - "The message that it sends now / Sounds exactly like a closing door"

i bring all of this up to not only point out all the little machinery bits bUT TO NOTE WHEN THE MACHINERY ISN'T PRESENT AND IS MOST PRESENT.

the only songs where we lose the theme of technology in L's lines is when he's with light. "Stalemate" and "Playing His Game" aren't on this list. L doesn't use many technological terms in those songs. the only ones that pop up are said by light (ex: "Does he see pixels, not dreams") and that's because it's about light trying to follow L's machine-like thinking.

in fact, "Stalemate" (i think, it's late and i don't wanna check all those songs again) is the first time L uses some kind of human analogy: "Just like two actors on a stage / Go through the motions that we both rehearse... / Eyeball to eyeball / We'll see who blinks first."

IT'S BECAUSE HE'S WITH LIGHT. LIGHT MAKES HIM HUMAN.

IN FACT IT MAKES HIM SO HUMAN THAT WHEN LIGHT KILLS HIM IT LIKE SENT HIM THROUGH FUCKING SHOCK. WHICH IS WHY "The Way It Ends" AND "The Game Begins" HAVE THE MOST MACHINE BASED TERMS.

we are introduced to him as a robot, and it is stripped from him when he meets the one case/person that makes him feel alive, and suddenly it all hits him like a truck when the one thing giving him that sliver of humanity is what kills him. that line-- "It's like I'm hitting all my marks, as if I'm acting in a play / So out of character, yet somehow not a shock"-- encapsulates it perfectly. L is used to hitting all his marks already, because he has been raised as a machine, but with light those marks have been different. he has not been hitting them out of code, he has been hitting them out of precise and willing action. he did it with the fire that sparked inside and kept him burning, not the cold hard gears he was raised on. but playing with fire means melting everything you once had. it's gone now. it is what he has always done but it is no longer him.

note the shift from "eyeball" to "camera lens." note the mix of personification with machinery in "hands upon a clock" and "flickering" to "humming."

L lost because he was too alive. L died because for a second he was human.

[virq-qgo]

If you still need Arthur Morgan requests, what about some angst that turns into fluff or smut in the form of being captured by a gang and forming a bond with a fellow captive?

Or perhaps him desperately longing for someone he thinks he has no chance with until he finds out they're just as into him? Bonus for him breaking down a little about it >:)

I fucked up *sobs* I wanted extra money on rdr2 so I was introduced the world of cheats. I didn't fucking know it wouldn't save my process until I found out when I was fucking sent back to the beginning. Not too happy about that.

Also, I'm so sorry for the delay. I am working on the other requests, but I have a hard time writing when I notice that nobody sees/likes/reposts/comment my work. Cause I work hard on it, and lose the motivation if it goes unnoticed. So please forgive me for the slow updates! I also feel like I can't write anymore so now it's just shitty.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! I decided to write the second prompt because my brain generated ideas for that one!!!

Warnings: Arthur is OOC (probably, idk..) I don't remember that one guys name, but he was an "O'Driscoll" but joined the camp. Drunk Arthur, my writing, unedited because my neck and back hurts. (I locked in.) FEM reader

Arthur Morgan, the man who had a five thousand dollar bounty on his head. The man who was deemed as dangerous and do not approach. Had some silly school boy crush on the sweet girl at the camp. And that girl was you.

The way you would care for him when he returns back from a trip Dutch had sent him on, make sure to have left over meals so that he could eat. You even go as far to bathe him when Arthur has no energy left in him to do it himself. 

Oh, how deep in love he has fallen.

But he couldn’t help but let his mind wander if those soft hands of yours had touched another man's body.

Or if you smiled that beautiful smile to somebody else.

Maybe your arms wrap tighter against another man's body when you’re sharing a horse.

A sigh escaped his lips as he guided his horse back into camp, he was starting to think too much of you and it was taking a serious toll on him. As soon as Arthur arrived at the posts to hitch his horse. He heard your laughter. 

There he saw you with Kieran, laughing. 

He didn’t know why it had made him so angry, but it did. He wanted to beat Kieran for making you laugh. For getting to see your smile. 

But, Arthur couldn’t help but think about just how much better Kieran was. He was a good man, and didn't have a bounty. And treated everyone with kindness even if he didn’t get it back. Arthur Morgan truly had no chance with you. And it hurts.

So he did what he did best when it came to dealing with shitty emotions. Going to the bar and getting absolutely shit faced.

Arthur had been six beers in and lost count of the amount of shots he took. Despite being shitfaced, he would never be shitfaced enough to not notice you. He felt your presence near him and when looking, there you were right next to him with a concerned look on your pretty face.

“Arthur,” Your voice was soft and gentle. “Come home, it’s getting late.”

He knew he should've listened to you and put down the beers. But he was too deep in to care. “Go on back to Kieran.” Arthur slurred over his words before calling over the bartender for another beer.

But as soon as the man tried giving another bottle to Arthur. You snatched it and gave it to the next person.

“H-hey!” Arthur yelled, turning his body to face you but stumbled over his feet. Almost nearly losing his balance. “That was mine!”

You slipped the bartender some money before grabbing Arthur by the arm and leading him to the entrance of the saloon. Ignoring his drunken protest and attempts at pulling away from you, you still took him to the hotel.

“One room please,” You say with a smile on your face to the man behind the counter. Paying what you owed, the man placed the key to the room into the palm of your hand. 

“Please no trouble, that man is a trouble maker as it is.” He spoke sheepishly. Almost regretting letting you buy a room.

But unfortunately for him, you were already gone and up the stairs.

“Arthur, stop dragging your feet.” You grumbled and tugged on his hand while trying not to get irritated with him.

“Then take me back to the damn saloon.” Arthur argued.

With a surprising amount of strength, you yanked him to the hotel door and held onto him with a death grip while trying to unlock the door. Soon enough, you unlocked the door and guided Arthur in before shutting it behind you. 

“God dammit woman.” Arthur grumbles at you as he wobbles over to the bed and flops onto it. “your always ruinin, it for me! For making me feel the way I do about yah,” Arthur rubs a hand over his face before taking off his hat and placing it on the nightstand beside him. “Yer lucky that I love yah, otherwise I wouldn’t have been that easy to take!”

You look at Arthur puzzled, he loved you? Nonsense. You saw the way he interacted with Mary Linton. Now that was love, the way he would caress her cheeks when she was upset. How would he take her on trips with him just to make her happy? Arthur just bout did almost anything for that woman.

But he was drunk, maybe he thought you were her.

“Arthur you’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

He calls out your name and sits up to look at you, like he wasn’t absolutely plastered. “I wanted to kill that boy today. I should be the only one who gets to make you laugh like that, o-or smile.” He drunkenly grumbles, “can’t but think about how good you are. I shouldn’t have these feelings for yah.”

“Arthur-” you try to stop him but he interrupts you.

“You’re so beautiful, and I'm so in love with you. And it makes me so mad that some boy can make you laugh so easily. I get it, I'm older, roughed up. Even got a bounty on my head. I don’t deserve to have these feelings for you.”

You watch Arthur ramble, but you notice something that makes you frown. There were tears in his eyes but he wiped them before you got a chance to say anything.

“I might be drunk, but i’m not drunk enough to not remember how in love I am with you. The damn alcohol didn’t stop from how much I'm hurting.” He chuckles, trying to attempt to mask the pain in his voice.

“Arthur, even if you don’t know what you’re talking about. You are loved, you are meant to be loved. I don’t know why you bother hiding how you truly feel about the people you care about, because everyone I know loves you. All the women back at camp boast about just how safe they feel, the children look up to you and tell me about how Uncle Arthur taught them how to bug Dutch. And the men, they see you as their brother.” You rant, but your voice was gentle. Even though this was meant to drill into that head of his, you couldn’t bring yourself to be upset with him. But as soon as you were about to go off on him again. You notice those same tears that he was trying so hard to hide, fall down his cheeks.

And without thinking, you step closer to Arthur and wipe his tears away with your thumb. “Maybe tomorrow morning, if you remember telling me just how much you love me. You can treat me to breakfast and I’ll tell you how I feel.” 

With a nod of his head, Arthur agreed. “Can you stay with me for the night? I don’t want to be left alone.

“Of course I can.” You smile before walking to the chair in the corner. It won't be comfortable, but it’ll work. 

“What are you doin’?” Arthurs voice broke you from your train of thought.

You gave the man a weird look before sitting down in the chair ,“Getting comfortable?” 

You see Arthur roll his eyes before standing up, still very wobbly. But managed to walk over to you and pull you up.” “Get in the damn bed woman.” he grumbled while he guided you to the bed.

“Are you sure-” You try to talk but he interrupts you once again.

“Drunk or not, I wouldn't be a real man if I let a woman sleep uncomfortably.”

A soft smile sits on your face as you crawl into bed, waiting for Arthur to join you. And once he does, you unconsciously scoot a little closer to him. His warmth and scent immediately puts you to sleep.

The sun peeking from the blinds and shining straight into your eyes, was what woke you up. You reach out to feel for Arthur, but he wasn’t there. This really woke you up. 

You couldn't help but let your mind wander to the previous night where he had confessed his feelings. You knew he had mistaken you for Mary Linton. God, you hated yourself for agreeing to sleep in the same bed as him. Tears pool your eyes as you feel the embarrassment fill your blood. As you were getting up from the bed, the door opened and there stood Arthur with breakfast in his hands. The warm look he had on his face dropped once he noticed the tears in your eyes.

“What's wrong?” He asked and put the breakfast he had found and placed it onto the table.

Before you could get a word in, he was next to you in a flash. “Why’er crying?”

Arthur gave you a puzzled look when he heard you laugh and wipe your eyes. “I just had thought you really left.”

You could see him visibly sigh from relief, he was so worried that he had done something wrong. “Is it a bad time to say that I love you?” he grins and reaches out for a plate of food and placing it into your lap, eagerly awaiting for the answer you promised him.

Your lips curl as you lean in and press your lips against his. “Does that tell you?” 

“I don't know, you might have to tell me.” He grins and takes the plate of food off your lap and places it to the side. This time he was to kiss you, his fingers curl against your hips as he pushed you flat down on the bed. 

“I love you too, Arthur Morgan.” You tell him in between kisses. 

A soft squeal escapes your lips as you feel the scruff of his beard tickle your cheek as he whispers into your ear, “I had a hunch you'd say that.

[uranometrias]

you can kiss a hundred boys — sam winchester

→ premise: you, the mostly stable edition to sam & dean's little hunting duo have found yourself the object of all of sam's hopes and dreams. the only problem? you barely seemed to give him a second glance and had a bigger sexual appetite than dean. which meant that night after night, bar after bar, and motel after motel, sam was forced to come to grips with the fact that you were far from interested in reciprocating any sort of feelings he may have been pathetically harboring. or so he thinks.

→ pairing: sam winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: angst w/ resolution, heavy cursing, miscommunication trope? r! + sam both have issues with expressing themselves in healthy ways. sam is just exceptionally jealous + lashing out. r! has abandonment issues. semi love confessions. r! is described to be older than sam (take that as you will). no particular timeline, but set in earlier seasons. heavy making out. allusions and depictions of former sexual activity. no smut (i'm building up to it omg). teasing! dean. r! can kind of be read as alcohol dependant. fluff + happy ending <3

→ a/n: preparing to tackle writing a full length supernatural fic on wattpad within the coming days, and felt it was only right to dip my toes in writing for the fandom just to see if i even have a semblance of a shot of doing justice to this fandom. very very nervous at the attempt, but i hope at least one person winds up enjoying this! i hope i characterized sam well... i'm doing a rewatch of earlier seasons and tried to base this off that. fingers crossed it comes across the way i intended. <3

"And what the hell's gotten into you?" your hand drops to your hip, eyes dancing from Sam long enough to take in Dean who had his lips pursed in the way that told you he was keeping his quips and thoughts to himself. You'd just sidled up to the boys, grin big and eager as you rushed out practiced 'goodnights'. Some guy neither brother (or you for that matter) could be bothered to remember the name of had invited you back to his place, and you'd accepted graciously. After solving a case that went as good as any hunt could, you felt you owed it to yourself to have some fun.

And while the guy in no way looked like the future love of your life, there was no rule that said a girl couldn't have a little fun every once in a while. The only problem now seemed to be that your offerance of a goodbye had been enough to send Sam into a pissy mood. His face was scrunched up in that way that told you he was peeved, and for the very life of you, you couldn't figure out why.

"It's nothing." he reassures, and your eyes narrow, not buying it for even one second. "Have a good night." Sam's eyes are rolling before he can fully get it out, and your looking back at Dean, almost begging him to make things plain. All he does is let an exasperated puff of air fly from his nose as he downs his shot before flagging the bartender down for another one.

"Sammy?" and your head tips to the side, eyes shooting behind you to ensure your date for the night hadn't found someone else to occupy him. "Come on, you know I know something's wrong." you try, because even if you were itching to get laid, you cared about Sam and Dean more. Which meant if he was pissed with you, there was nothing that would stop you from at least attempting to fix it.

"Yeah, well there's not really anything you can do about it, so why don't you just go." and he's stern but not mean. Still, it makes you falter just a step. "You're better at that anyway." and this is grumbled, voice lowered, but you hear it all the same. It makes you scoff, letting out a disbelieving sort of laugh as your lips push out in disinterest.

"Right." and you wring your hands. "I guess I'll do that then." you don't mean to sound snarky, but now your feelings are hurt, and you've got no real clue why. Still, Sam Winchester was about as stubborn as you were avoidant, so if he was going to push you away, you were going to go with open arms. It's precisely why you don't say anything else as you turn on your heel and stomp away like a petulant toddler. Sam's body is swiveling in his chair, almost like he's had a change of heart, and he's turning to hurriedly apologize, but finds that you're nowhere near enough for him to try.

"Nice going." Dean says like the annoying older brother that he is, and he's letting out another chuckle that makes Sam want to slam his head into the bar seated right in front of him.

"Shut up." he retorts instead.

"Don't take it out on me just cause you're all pent up!" is what Dean says next, and Sam wonders if everything in Dean's life revolves around sex and hunting. "Maybe you should be a little more like her and get rid of some of that aggression. Hunting ain't gon' fix everything." Dean lectures, and Sam thinks if his eyes roll again they'll spin right out of the sockets.

"Look not everything can be fixed by sleeping with some stranger." Sam offers as Dean stares at him like he's grown a second head. "And besides, I didn't say anything wrong. She's always gone." he whines. "Every single night." he reiterates. "It's like she can't wait to get away from us." and Sam's not sure if that's his heartache or his abandonment issues talking. Dean isn't sure either. "I mean, even you take breaks sometimes." and Dean resists the urge to react to the clear jab at his sexual history.

"So she's having some fun. What's the harm in that? It's not like she can't take care of herself. The kid packs a mean punch." and he winces at the memory of learning it first hand.

"Yeah, I know that." Sam retorts instantly.

"So then what's the problem?" Dean is quick with his assault of questions, and Sam just wants to be left alone to pout and be angry, but he knows Dean won't let him. He never does, not fully.

"There's no problem." he tries, and Dean's smacking his teeth.

"Bullshit." he spits. "You don't jump down somebody's throat like that and take shots if there's no problem. So what is it? You worried about her or something?" and Dean is just barely missing the point. "Cause it ain't your job to ride her back Sam, she can handle herself. Sort of cases we deal with everyday a couple of guys from the bar ain't gonna be too much trouble."

"Yeah, I got the message. She can handle herself." and he's grumpier than before, the evidence plain as day on his face.

"So then what the hell's your problem?" Dean demands.

"I like her, Dean." Sam finally offers and Dean's hand is waving him off instantly.

"Well sure, I like the kid too-"

"No, Dean." he emphasizes as Dean's eyebrows jump up. It takes him a second, but it finally clicks, hitting him like a ton of bricks as his mouth screws open in surprise. His body twists, chair turning as he turns in the direction you'd just gone, and then he's looking back at Sam and every last bit of the exasperation and grouchiness makes sense. He knows he ought to be gentle with this, but finds himself smirking coyly.

" Well, well, well." he reaches out and claps a hand against Sam's back, and the much taller man jolts at the impact. "And all this time I was worried you'd forgotten how to love a woman." and Dean is Dean, which means he's probably got no idea how insensitive his remark could be. But Sam knows Dean better than anyone, so he knows he doesn't mean much harm.

"Shut up." is Sam's instant response.

"I'm just saying. You've had a lot of misses there, Sammy. So as far as interest goes, this is damn sure a step in the right direction." And Sam notes how Dean always talks about you like you're the best person in their life. Sam knows you're not, but he like that Dean admires you so much. You were a lot like him, so Sam supposed it made sense. You both were rougher around the edges, strong, smart in the tactical sense.

And you both liked to drown your sorrows and trauma in things like booze, beer, and sexual conquests. And don't get him wrong, he had no real issue with the fact you were sexually liberated. In fact it was a very respectable sort of thing for what a woman to be. He just hated the fact that he never crossed your mind in that way. He was certain you'd even joked at some point about sleeping with Dean just for kicks.

"She's not a hill to climb, Dean." Sam shoots back, and he wishes he had just kept his mouth shut.

"Of course." Dean retorts, sounding unconvinced, because as usual anything that revolved around actually being interested in a woman past sleeping with her was lost on Dean. Which meant even with his teasing, he still only thought Sam was interested in you in the weakest of senses. But that wasn't the case. Because you were so much more than just some woman to conquer. He didn't even think he'd get the chance to try. You were daunting in the best way, too sure of yourself to take being used.

Which is why he never said anything. Because at first he thought you were only a pretty face that took his mind off the hurt Jess' death left behind. Until suddenly the thought of Jess didn't sting as bad, only because your presence became some sort of salving balm. He was screwed beyond repair.

"I'm serious." Sam insists, and now it's Dean's turn to roll his eyes.

"Oh, give me a break, Sam." he retorts. "Matter of fact, give yourself a damn break. You're gonna tear yourself apart sitting here pouting about it like a damn child." and Sam huffs through his nose. "If you're not gonna be a man about it and say something, then stop making it everyone else's problem." And Dean's not being mean. He's being Dean, but in his current state, Sam doesn't have it in him to not take offense. The whole 'Be a man' of it all reminding him too much of John.

"Screw you, Dean." Sam's up before either of them can really register it, and Dean's surprised at the drama of it all. It was different when they butt heads over cases, or their differing opinions of their father. But they didn't fight over stuff like this. They both just went about their lives doing their own thing as far as women were involved. And sure Dean knew you were beautiful, but you all knew how dangerous your job was. Falling in love was a death wish, and he thought Sam of all people knew it.

But as usual, he was wrong.

"Sam!" Dean calls after his younger brother, who navigates through the quickly growing crowd of drunks with ease. "Sammy!" He knows Sam hears him, but is choosing to ignore him. Dean also knows Sam doesn't have the keys to the impala, so it's not like he could actually leave. Which is the only reason he decides to give his baby brother a second to cool off. If he hadn't spun the block in ten minutes max though, Dean would be up and out of the bar guns almost blazing.

By the time Sam had managed his way through the crowd and stepped out of the bar, he'd partially forgotten what his big tantrum was about. That is until his eyes skim the parking lot, and he finds you of all people pressed up against the side of the place all by yourself. Your back is pressed fully into the brick of the building, eyes closed as you lent your head back. You looked a lot grouchier than you'd been earlier when you'd bounced over with all your teeth showing.

He wonders if your sour mood has anything to do with him.

He stands there for a moment, debating if he would approach you, before you open your eyes, and spot him. He thinks that answers the question for him. "What are you doing out here?" he asks, and your lips push out in a show of your disinterest in having a conversation with him. You were still upset by what he said. Figures. He lets his feet drag him towards you, and you tense up the moment he's close enough to really take you in. Your entire body is clenched up, and you're quick to force a wider gap between the both of you as Sam mimicked your posture on the wall.

"I thought you were getting out of here." and he doesn't know why he continues to talk, when it's clear you're choosing to ignore him.

"I thought so too." you reply gruffly, face scrunched up in disappointment.

"So what happened?" he pries. "Change your mind?"

You shoot him a sour look. "What are you doing, Sam?" you demand. "It's barely been twenty minutes. Whatever happened to 'Why don't you just go?'." you recite his words back to him and he winces. "You didn't want to talk to me before, so I don't want to talk to you now." you say, and it's a little bit childish. You both know it. But that was the thing about the two of you. Where you and Dean meshed because of your similarities, you and Sam often found yourselves in moments of odds.

When Dean pissed you off, all it'd really take is a few hours apart and then you'd both show up with peace offerings and move on as if nothing happened. It wasn't like that with Sam, not in the slightest. He always wanted to push, to dig your emotions out of you. You despised it, almost as much as you hated how he could be such a hypocrite sometimes. Forcing you to bare everything you felt to him, but lashing out at you and Dean whenever things got too much in his head. Sometimes you hated him.

Sometimes you hated both of them.

But most times you adored them, loved them with an intensity that you could never really understand. They were your boys, your best friends. The only family you still had and could trust now. And it was a step up from the family you used to have. Jim, Jack, and Jose could only help you so much. That family only ever left you with headaches and numbness. Dazes that lasted longer than your moments of clarity, and horrible hangovers. It was why you tried so hard with Sam and Dean.

Even when they pissed you off.

Because they saved you from yourself. Showed you there was more to life than drinking away your despair. In return you offered them protection. Someone else to take on the weight of keeping them safe. It was a fair deal. Hunting with them, being a team. They watched you back, and you watched theirs, and you all became better.

"I shouldn't have said it." he says with a sigh. "I don't even know why I did." Sam says, and you know there's more. Lots more he won't say. But you need him to, mostly because you'd been driving yourself sick thinking that he was growing tired of you being around. You were worried that one day you'd have nowhere to go back to. That one day they'd grow tired enough of you and all your tears, and anger, and aggression, and you'd wake up to an empty motel room. Find out the impala was long gone, with you left in the dust.

You think that's why you try to find someone new on every hunt. Why you'd allowed yourself to start drinking a bit more again, why you giggled a little harder at some of the unfunny jokes of the men and women who picked you up at the bars. Because if you had them, had someone, it wouldn't matter if Sam and Dean one day disappeared. You'd be okay, you'd be settled. You'd survive the heartache.

"Don't lie to me, Sam." you reply quietly, and your voice is heady. Sam hadn't even noticed the flask at first, his eyes widening in that way that showed he was worried about you. In your drunk and angry state though, it just looks like disgust. "If you're just gonna do that, you can fucking leave." you insist, and Sam is shocked. "See if I give a damn." and that was another problem with you and Sam. You both weren't the best with confrontation. Sure, you could both lash out, get angry and spew out the things you'd bottled up. But it wasn't like you ever really heard one another out.

When you fought, you both came in with your calculated notions and beliefs of each other. You didn't listen to reason, you listened to how you felt. What you believed to be right. Which meant that in moments like these where you're spewing words like 'See if I give a damn', all it really told Sam was that every thought he ever had about you wanting to get away from him and Dean seemed to be proven right.

"Well if you don't give a damn, then why do you even bother sticking around?" he seethes, and you scoff, head whipping around to fully stare him down. "I mean trust me, we'd never want to hold you back." and he says this part mockingly, and you think you hate him a bit more than you ever have. "Why don't you just leave for good? Why do you stay? Why do you- why do you keep up with any of this?" he demands and you push off the wall, turning your body as you glare up at him.

"Is that what you want? For me to leave for good, Sam?" you question, hands balling into tight fists as Sam's mouth drops open in shock at your question. The obvious answer being absolutely not. "Is that why you've been walking around with a stick up your ass, lashing out, and acting like a fucking toddler, you want me gone? You're a grown man, Samuel, why don't you just grow some balls and fucking say that instead of-" and you scoff because you feel yourself getting all the more angry just looking at him. "God, I don't even know why the hell I even bother with you Winchesters!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you drive me fucking crazy!" you erupt, voice picking up. "You know why I'm still here? Why I'm not off having a nice night?" you ask, but he knows it's rhetorical, so he doesn't speak. "Because I felt like shit leaving, knowing that you think I'm better at being gone than helping you when you're upset. I couldn't even think about sleeping with someone else when my friend was sitting at the bar dealing with whatever shit was flying through your head seemingly all by yourself. Because of course Dean wouldn't push you too far unless you were in danger."

And Sam thinks about how Dean hadn't chased him down when he left the bar, and finds himself a bit surprised at how much you pay attention to them both.

"Which meant if you weren't in danger, you wouldn't tell him shit. You'd bottle it up and try to deal with it alone. And I thought how fucked up of me to be thinking about sex when you were obviously really fucked up over something." you huff. "But now, you know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking that I was stupid for getting myself in a position where I care so much about two people who time and time again prove to everyone in their fucking circumference that we're better off leaving you two the fuck alone." you proceed, and Sam's as defensive as ever now. Face growing warm in anger.

"You knew what you were getting into when you decided to tag along." Sam retorts like a child. "Nobody's holding you hostage. Nobody is keeping you here against your will, okay? If we're that horrible to endure than leave. We'll be fine without you, we always are." Sam insists, and you scoff again, this one more disbelieving than the other. "No, I'm serious. You're never around after hunts anyway. If you're so eager to get away from us, if we're too much for you, than why torment yourself any longer? Go."

"Screw you, Sam."

"Screw me? How could this possibly be on me?"

"You're trying so hard to make this my idea." you snap. "But it's not, Sam. I'm still here. Don't you think if I wanted to leave you and your brother to rot that I could've several times over? Despite what you may believe, I have enough self respect to leave a situation I don't want to be in. You're the one being a moody jackass that can't grow the hell up and say what he feels." and you catch yourself. "And excuse me if sometimes I want a chance to feel like a regular fucking person." you proceed. "It's not like the odds of a hunter falling in love and living some cookie cutter life are high."

Sam blinks at that reminder.

"So don't make me feel like shit because you're too scared to let yourself feel even a semblance of normalcy for once." You're turning again, letting yourself lean back against the wall as you down all that's left inside the flask.

"I'm sorry." Sam exhales the words, guilt and aggravation rolling off of him in waves.

"Yeah, well you should be." you retort. "I'm not the enemy here, Sam. And despite what you seem to think of me, I'm not just itching to go off on my own and leave you two behind. You guys are my family. We're in this shit together." you remind him. "But not if you keep like this, Sam. I'm not going to let you push me away. At that point i'd just go." you admit, and it's the truth. The codependency that ran deep between Sam and Dean was not something you'd choose to take on. Even if the thought of leaving them felt like splitting your heart apart and stomping on it, you had to love yourself more.

"I'm not trying to push you away." he insists, and your eyebrow jumps.

"Could have fooled me." you reply and Sam huffs.

"I'm a jackass, okay? I never should have-" and he thinks it was way easier expressing himself back at the bar with Dean. "I shouldn't have said any of it." and it's true, even though it was a constant thought. But that wasn't your problem, his personal issues with being abandoned or better put unstable as far as the people in his life were concerned. "Jesus." and the instant replay of every word he'd spewed at you guts him. Was he really that insecure? That filled to the brim with jealousy that he couldn't express his fears of losing you without lashing out and making you the villain.

God, he'd never felt more like John.

"Be honest with me." you demand. "What the hell's going on with you, Sammy? You're freaking me out, okay? What is it? Are you having nightmares again? More visions?"

"No." he denies plainly. "It's not like that." and while he did still have nightmares and visions, this had nothing to do with why he was in this particular situation with you.

"Then what? You know you can tell me anything."

"Not this."

"Well why not?" you press, and you feel annoyance flaring up again.

"I just can't, alright?"

"Oh, give me a fucking break, Sam!" you sneer. "How can you apologize and then go right back to acting like this?" you say.

"Because I am sorry." he promises. "I'm more sorry than you'll ever know. I'm sorry for what I said, and for talking to you like that, okay? It never should have happened. I shouldn't have ever said it. But this is personal. It's not something you can help."

"So, I'm just supposed to accept that it's always going to be like this?" and he thinks the answer is no. Just as soon as he gets over you, he can go back to normal. But he had no clue when that would be, or how long it would take. "Where you're angry at me?" you clarify, and Sam's immediately turning his stare to you.

"I'm not angry with you, Y/N."

"Then what is it? Are you-" you close your eyes and take in a breath when you start to yell again. "Sam, you have to give me something."

"Why can't you just accept that I can't tell you?" Sam questions as he straightens up, towering over you in the way he seemed to tower over everyone else. Still, you were older than him, intimidating in the way that a hard life seemed to make people. You match his stance, standing straighter as you glare up at him, and he glares down at you. "Why can't you just respect that and let me deal with this on my own?"

"Because I seem to be the only person getting affected by this little mood swing of yours." you remind him. "I'm the one getting the smart remarks, and the attitude, and the cold fucking shoulder. Not Dean, and not anybody else. So obviously your funky attitude has something to do with how you feel about me. So what is it? What did I do?" you ask, and you know you're treading dangerous territory, but you never cared. Angry or not, this was still Sam, your Sam, which meant you'd get him to crack eventually. You were more determined than most.

"You infuriate me!" he finally exclaims. "That's it." he adds, as you stare slack jawed. "You take up space, and make every part of my life difficult. When it was just me and Dean, he was the only thing I had to worry about. I looked out for him, and he looked out for me, and that was it. But then you showed up and you made it so easy to care about you. But now it's not just as simple as caring about you. It's not like Jo and Ellen and Ash where we're like partners. It's not like with Bobby, who's family. Because while I care about them no part of me harps on keeping them safe 24/7."

It takes you a second to recover from his initial words, as the rest spills out of him like a faucet, you find yourself shuffling away from Sam. "But that's all I can think about with you. Making sure you're safe, taking care of you. And sure, Dean thinks about it too, but it's different. It's always been different. And I haven't felt this way since Jess, so that's why it's-it's easier to make you want to leave than handle you deciding one day that you're done with us and disappearing. So I'm sorry, okay? It's not your problem, it's mine." he tells you, and you think you've never been more lightheated.

"And I'll work on it. I'll get better, it'll be okay, and we'll go back to normal eventually. But until I can get a lock on this, on how I feel, I can't be okay with you running off and being with someone new when I want you the way that I want you. But I'd never tell you what to do, or how to cope. So I don't say anything. I never say anything." he breathes the words out and they're painted with aggression and heartache, and it makes your stomach flip in the worst way. "Are you happy now?"

"Sammy..."

"I don't need you to feel bad for me, but now you see why I didn't want to talk about it."

"Sam, you're a coward." you huff out, and he exhales.

"I know."

"And you can't just- you can't just lash out on me... or anyone else just because you have feelings you don't understand." you lecture him.

"I understand my feelings perfectly, Y/N. That's what you and Dean don't ever seem to understand. I know exactly how I feel, and I know exactly what lengths I'd go to." he tells you more seriously than he's been all night.

"What lengths?"

"To protect you, to make sure you were okay. It's not something as simple as me just... wanting to get a few rocks off. Or because we're stuck on the road together, and you're just some pretty girl. I've never had a doubt in my mind that my brother would go to the ends of the world for me. And I'd do the same thing for him." he tells you, and you already knew that. "But now you're included in that. You're someone I take account of, and the things I'd do for you they're not normal, they're not okay."

"Sam..."

"Look, I never said you had to feel the same way. You're the one that pushed. You're the one that asked to know what you did."

"Sammy? You out here?" you both stall at the familiar sound of Dean, who's instantly looking between the both of you with a mixture of relief and curiosity on his face. "What's this? We throwing a party back here?" he questions as you snort out a laugh.

"Hardly." you retort. "You're packing it in early." you comment as Dean offers you a smirk that's so Dean.

"I could say the same for you." and then he's looking to Sam with a knowing glance on his face. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No." Sam says instantly, and Dean looks to you.

"Yes."

"Guess the Ayes have it." he whistles at his brother's expense, clapping him on the shoulder again, as he tosses the keys to Baby up in the air before catching them in his hands. "If you guys aren't done in ten, I'm leaving your asses." and you know he's mostly joking, but still, you feel a flower bomb of appreciation exploding in your chest.

"Wait, De-" Sam starts, only to be ignored as Dean tosses the keys up in the air once more, catching them as he strides off, almost as quickly as he showed up, and Sam's turning to you with a questioning and pensive look on his face. "I don't really see what else there is to talk about." Sam says as you poke him roughly in the chest.

"Cut the crap, Sam. You're not the only person allowed to talk here, alright?" you tell him, and his eyes roll. "Were you even going to give me a chance to say anything back?" you question.

"What's the use, I already know what you're going to say." he tries, and you snort.

"You're a coward, Sam Winchester."

"I think we already covered that." he says dryly, as you shake your head.

"Why didn't you ever say anything? About how you feel?" you pry.

"You said it yourself. Hunters don't get to fall in love and live a cookie cutter life." he reminds you and you shake your head again.

"But you didn't even give me a chance to decide if I even wanted to try. What were you going to do? Ice me out until you forced yourself to feel differently for me? You're that determined to die with your pride?"

"It's not about pride. It's about being realistic, it's not like you ever gave me any sort of indication that feeling this way was alright."

"Sam, you're allowed to feel however you want. It's not my job to tell you if the way you feel for me is okay, because it is." you retort. "Even if I didn't feel the same way." you remind him, as his face seems to tinge with embarrassment. "Lucky enough for you though, doofus. I think there's worse things in the world than having feelings for a Winchester." and it takes it a moment to register on Sam's face, his eyes widening.

"What?"

"Look. I'm not saying it's true love, okay? All the shit we've seen, I don't know if humankind was lucky enough to earn it. But I do know that you're so important to me. Important enough to put everyone else on the backburner. I thought it was clear enough that I love you, Sam. What I don't understand is why you were so scared to tell me the truth." you admit as Sam lets your words float around him like a wave.

"I was scared you'd leave." he admits plainly.

"Sometimes I get scared of that too. That one day you'll both vanish right out of my life." you admit, and it squeezes Sam's heart in his chest. "Maybe that feeling will never fully go away, we can't ever say what'll happen in the future. But I do know that I'm here now." you tell him and you reach out and grab his hand. "And you're here now, okay? So why don't we let that be enough for us for now. If that's what you want." you offer, and Sam looks at you, really looks at you, and thinks he'll love you forever. Almost as much as he hates you for running his mind like it was your own.

"I do. I want that."

"Okay." you squeeze his hand gently. "So can we try again? Without the theatrics and the yelling this time. Just- just tell me what you'd want from me, Sammy."

"I want to be with you." he says it so hurriedly, you can't fight your little smirk. "And I don't know how long it'll last, but I know I'll try for as long as I can to make it work. I know we can't exactly have... an apple-pie life, but- I could be whatever you need me to be. I just know all this hunting stuff, saving people stuff makes a lot more sense when you're doing it with me, okay? And I don't want to lose that-" you don't leave room for much else, tugging him towards you and pouring every bit of how much you care about him into the way you kiss him.

Instantly, he's picking you up by the thighs, letting them wrap around his hips as he kisses you back feverishly. It's almost dizzying, especially as your head smacks the brick wall of the bar, your hands flying from his face, to his hair, and back down again. He thinks he could kiss you forever, and you think you could quite quickly learn to believe in true love. It wasn't conventional, but you knew you'd love him forever, almost as much as you hated him for controlling the beat of your heart as if it was his own.

You were certain if the desperation grew any thicker you'd both be stripped bare right there in the open, but the obnoxious honk, honk, honk of Dean from the driver's seat of the impala pulls you both apart like you'd been electrocuted. "Get a room!" he exclaims, face covered in fax disgust as Sam's hands squeeze politely at your hips as you stare up at him.

"At least we don't have to have the talk with your brother." you offer sheepishly.

"Oh, he'll find a way to force the talk." Sam retorts as you both chuckle nervously. Since you'd met there had always been a difference in the way you were with Dean, and the way you were with Sam, and you think that this new turn in your relationship with Sam would come with a lot of hard work, a lot of work that you'd normally never be inclined to give a chance. But as Sam gingerly places you back on two feet, and you find your knees wobbling just slightly as he nods his head towards the impala, that you would much like he insisted: go to the ends of the world [and everything in between] just to get back to him. which meant in the grand scheme of things, that even if things romantically ended horribly wrong, Sam Winchester was a good risk.

One you'd gladly make for the rest of your life.

Even if he didn't know it yet.

[lemotmo]

Yes to all and fascinating 🎉🎉

Q. Do you really think Buddie is happening? There is just so much evidence to suggest otherwise that I cannot bring myself to believe it's ever going to be a thing.

A. Where is this overwhelming amount of evidence that you speak of? How did I miss all the evidence? You certainly didn't provide any evidence in your ask. In fact the only 'evidence' that ever gets stated is "Ryan's dad said it's not happening'". That's it. That's all anyone ever has to offer up as proof it's not happening. A select few will go the even more ridiculous route and say "Lou said Ryan wasn't into it". I cannot believe I missed the meeting where it was decided that an actor's father, who the actor himself has suggested he has a rather complicated relationship with, and the man who wanted his job are used as the voices of truth and fact over the actors own words. The Ryan stuff in general is wild in this fandom. Oliver's quotes are taken as fact. He gets credit for his own voice. Why does Ryan not get the same credit in return? Oliver says he's up for it if that is the direction the show decides to take them in. Response: "yay Oliver wants Buddie"! Ryan says he's up for it if that's the direction the show decides to take them in. Response : "well he's not going to tell us he doesn't want it to happen". What's the difference between the two answers? They both have said the same thing and they've said it repeatedly. Why does Oliver get credit for saying it but Ryan gets discredited in favor of his father and the leech who wanted his job? It makes absolutely no sense. The only thing Ryan added to his response was that he was good with whatever direction as long as the show didn't lose their friendship at the core. That is not a fancy way to say 'I just want them to stay friends'. That's how you say a romance between them would be great but please don't ever forget that they are also best friends. People taking that response and bastardizing it to make it sound like something he didn't say is not Ryan's fault. I don't want their friendship to be erased when they turn romantic, most of us don't. Their friendship is their foundation and it's what brought people in in the first place. No one should want that erased once they go canon. That's all he was saying. I do believe Buddie is happening and I believe there is overwhelming evidence to support the belief that Buddie is happening.

The nonsense with his father's Buddie answer happened years ago, that is not a recent answer, and while the show was fully owned and controlled by FOX. It has been fairly well established since then that the plan was for them to go canon as a result of the Ana/ shooting arc. Which means Ryan and Oliver went into the beginning of that storyline with the full knowledge that the outcome would be Buddie. Clearly Ryan was down for that. He played it that way. The panic attack in the store when Ana was referred to as 'mom'. The conversation with Carla about making sure he followed his own heart and not just Christopher's. The entire shooting scene! The way Eddie's only response was to check to see if Buck was also hurt. The way Buck arrives at the hospital when Eddie wakes up. The will reveal conversation. The break up scene and dialogue between Eddie and Ana. It was clearly where it was supposed to go. Somewhere between conception and completion FOX stopped it, we don't know for sure why. Studio execs may have cut the storyline but they clearly didn't demand scenes be rewritten or re shot so Tim and the show kept the dialogue and framing of the scenes the same, an intentional choice on their part because I believe he always intended to come back to Buddie. The only thing I'm not sure of timing wise is the Taylor of it all. I don't know at what point she was re added into the mix, but that was when the show started trying very hard to make her a viable endgame option for Buck. Oliver never really got on board with that ship though so it was a hard sell, but Kristen and the show tried very hard to make it sail. I don't believe Eddie was brought in for Buck from the very beginning, but I do think it became very clear to Tim, and the others, fairly early on that the chemistry between Oliver and Ryan afforded them options they may not have ever intended. As a result I think Tim, as well as Oliver and Ryan, started leaning into and playing around with the chemistry. You cannot fake chemistry. It either exists or it doesn't. If you're a good enough actor you can fake it to an extent if you're willing to work at it, but the effortless chemistry that Oliver and Ryan have together is not easy to find.

At some point in maybe season 3 or early 4, I would guess, I think Tim decided Buck and Eddie would be each other's endgame, but that he might have to hold it specifically for the series finale. He has said before he was holding off on definitively defining their relationship because the show is not over. He gave it a shot with the shooting arc but once that was snipped I think he moved forward knowing how their story was going to end, but with the belief he was going to have to save it for the end. The show being controlled by the FOX network didn't leave him a ton of other options. Because he always had the end goal in mind he treated all their other relationships as temporary, and as a result very little effort has been put into any of them. But while they were dating other people their relationship with each other, and the family unit they built with Christopher, was given attention and depth and continued to grow and blossom. Their unit was clearly the priority. That's what got the story focus, but putting each of them in separate relationships, that got very little focus, at least gave Tim plausible deniability that he was trying to set up Buddie. Everything changed when they were freed from FOX.

Moving to ABC gave Tim options. It was clear the moment the network started promoting the show that they were fully on board with the Buddie of it all. They were basically the entire marketing campaign for season 7. Every single episode was promoted with Buddie content. I still firmly believe they were the plan for season 7. You can misinterpret episode 7x4 all you want but it was clearly about Eddie and Buck's unrealized feelings for him. Tommy was the red hearing. A way he could explain to himself why he got so carried away with jealousy without having to acknowledge or examine the Eddie of it all. The episode was not subtle. The show was basically waving a giant YOU HAVE FEELINGS FOR EDDIE flag around all season long. Actual Buck focus disappeared entirely after that episode and he was used almost exclusively in Eddie's storyline. He just realized this major thing about himself and his new found relationship and status got zero focus because the show wanted the audience to remember that his relationship with Eddie was still the priority. Eddie and Buck as a unit was still the focus. I have made no secret about what a disaster I think the back half of season 7 was, especially the finale, my god that was a terrible episode of television. I think Tim eventually came around to that realization as well because he spent the first half of season 8 undoing all the nonsense the rewrites in season 7 created. He got Maya reunited with her family, got Bobby back as captain, and split Buck and Tommy. All the while he was cleaning up the season 7 mess though he allowed the first part of season 8 to be overrun by Brad. I liked Brad, I really did, but his focus took away from the genuinely needed forward motion on the Eddie storyline. That has to be corrected in the back half of the season. I 100% believe Buddie is the plan, and is coming sooner rather than later, and for the most part Buck has been put in position. He has arrived at the beginning of his realization. Eddie is not quite there yet though. He's stuck in the Christopher situation. Not everything needs to be resolved and closed before he can be ready for Buck, that's an unfair demand to make of his character and a television show, but the Christopher situation needs to at least be moving forward. Eddie has enough information about his own feelings to not be too far behind Buck in his realization, but he's blinded right now by the Christopher situation. Eddie needs focus first. It's way past time for some Eddie centric storylines. Let him spend a couple of episodes on himself. The Buck realization can come while that stuff is going on, in fact it would make sense for Eddie to realize his feelings while he's in Texas. But even if the show doesn't do it while he's in Texas, Buddie is coming. They have intentionally avoided, sidestepped, or not even bothered trying at all, with any kind of viable alternative for either character. They're not interested in anyone else for them. And now they're at a network that isn't forcing their hand to go another way. They just have to clean up some thing first.

If you don't want it to happen that's fine. Your preference is your business and your right. But people need to stop pretending they're only saying it's not happening because it's the obvious answer. The obvious answer is the contrary in fact. All the legitimate evidence we have points to it being inevitable. A bullshit answer from a parent, who has no direct involvement with the show, and a laughably predictable response from a man who wanted his job, is not the winning hand you all seem to think it is.

Thank you for this Nonny! I needed a post like this to reply to. There has been so much discourse lately and I miss the fandom positivity a lot. This is definitely a great read! 🤗

So, first I'll add my disclaimer:

BUDDIE IS 100% HAPPENING.

There, I said it. Feels good too. 🤗

I don't understand what on Earth that anon was talking about with the whole 'evidence to suggest otherwise'? Do tell, where is that evidence to be found.

Because from where I'm standing there is a mountain of evidence that Buddie is happening. I'm not entirely sure of the timeline, but I have never been more sure that it's happening. I've been here since 2018-2019 and for the longest of time I was certain it would always stay a fanon ship.

But then the move to ABC and all the Buddie promo happened, combined with bi-Buck. And seeing how Eddie was EVERYWHERE in Buck's bi storyline, even when he was in a 'relationship' with some other guy, Eddie was still firmly in first place.

It was soooo obvious. From the get-go so many of us have been saying that T was a plot device to start the Buddie arc. And lo and behold... look what happened! Turns out that T was indeed a plot device! We were right! Go figure!🤷‍♀️

I think Buck's realisation that he is in love with Eddie will come quite early on in 8b, since we've already seen some of his reaction when Eddie told him he's leaving for El Paso. He'll spin out of control and finally realise why.

As for Eddie? I don't know. I'm sure he's going to be in El Paso for a few episodes to confront his parents, make up with Chris and maybe find himself in the process? I really haven't a clue about the timeline here. I will all depend on how long they'll want to draw things out. Knowing Tim, this might take a while. 🫠

But ultimately, I don't care. I'm just cruising along, waiting for March so we can get this show on the road. 🙂‍↕️

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[tootoomanycats]

The Plan

Chapter One: Best Laid Plans...

Pairing:

Gil-Galad x Human Reader Fem

Word Count: 6,415 words

If you prefer to read on AO3 its HERE

Summary: (SET IN THE RINGS OF POWER TV SERIES) (Takes place years before the first episode) As time settles the world’s chaos, Gil-Galad begins to feel an unusual boredom. After centuries of war, his days are now filled with mundane paperwork, the ink on the parchment mocking him with its monotony. When he receives a letter from Master Boat Builder Cirdan, asking for aid for a small group of humans whose ship has sunk, Gil-Galad agrees, recognizing his duty to help. Upon meeting the High King, you are caught off guard by an unexpected attraction. With your ship at the bottom of the bay, you aim to use your charm to secure a new vessel for yourself and your crew. However, as days go by, Gil-Galad's genuine compassion and kindness complicate things. The initial plan to flirt and deceive begins to clash with the genuine emotions that develop. You find yourself torn between the charming facade and emerging feelings for the High King. As the truth looms closer, the question remains—how will Gil-Galad react when he learns the real reason behind your visit?

Warnings:

Mentions of fire

Descriptions of injuries

Descriptions of partial nudity

Reader is not a holy good person.

Two ideots pining and refusing to acknowledge it.

Not Beta Read

(smut stuff will be in chapter two, promise)

Author Notes:

Hello Everyone!

It’s finally here! Thank you for being so patient while I finally got this done and posted. In my overeagerness, I was hoping to get this finished on New Year’s Day, but sadly, life and depression got a hold of me. I have entirely rewritten this chapter and how it plays out over four times. This time, I finally had to reel my worry that this wasn't good enough and just be okay with where it was. Please note that I'm writing this without sitting to very strict guidelines of what elves are commonly like in the book. I am writing Gil-Galad and Elves with the idea that history books and lore always paint figureheads and royalty as if they lived by strict morals and values. And I think it's much more interesting if we see what Gil-Galad would have experienced if he had fallen in love, and it, in the end, was kept secret from history. You'll notice that Elrond isn't going to be in this; that is because at the same time this story is going on- I have a one-shot of what Elrond is doing elsewhere. I am working on it, but I have no set date for finishing it as of right now. As always if you like what you have read please remember that fanfic writers live off of likes, comments and reblogs- we wont admit it but we all have praise kinks. Have you fed your starving artist today?

Tea.

Every night since his arrival in Grey Havens, the Master Boat Builder has made a point to enjoy a cup of tea before heading off to bed. Be it rain, snow, or shine, that cup of tea will always be had.

The weather was sublime this evening: cool temperatures, clear skies, and a calm breeze. Weather being what it is, he opened the workshop’s doors to watch as the sun’s last glow gave way to darkness.

Once the last sip was finished, he reached for the large doors to close them for the night. But as he pulled the last one, a shimmer of light in the water caught his attention; its reflection was unusually bright.

Leaning out the side, hand gripping the door handle for balance, he gasped in shock at finding the source. Just a few leagues away was a double-masted ship- inflamed.

Its bow was raised dramatically into the cool night air, exposing an accumulation of maritime fauna. The vessels aft dragged along the sea bed, echoing whenever it hit high points of rocks. What wood was visible was already ashes or becoming the next fuel source for the inferno. Screams and bodies jumping into the river could be heard above all else.

Running out of the boat house, Cirdan reached the town’s warning bell. Its massive size was stuck from disuse and rust. He kicked hard and kept kicking until his ankle and foot burned in protest, until finally, it groaned in movement. The piercing sound of the tocsin woke and alerted those who lived nearby as he shouted, “FIRE!”

It became chaos as orders were given, supplies packed, and horses mounted. The few elves who could, followed the older one, sprinting to offer aid to the tragedy’s survivors.

——

Wet, freezing, and homeless.

The strength it had taken to carry your first mate from the ship’s bowls to the deck had caused more than one muscle to pull. Short as he is, the man is surprisingly heavy.

Unfortunately, jumping from a burning ship was more manageable than carrying him to shore. As the line of buoyancy and gravity met, a new struggle began as you started to stand halfway out of the water.

Heavy, wet clothes worked against frozen, numb limbs with each soaking step to dry land and out of its icy grip. Ankles almost twisting with each slippery step on the shore rocks before finally collapsing onto soft sand.

A small blessing was the man you had carried came too with only a few short chest compressions. You joined him on the sand once he could fully sit up and catch his breath.

What was left of the crew watched as the top of the crow’s nest disappeared, the bay groaning and gurgling in its consumption. The ship you and many others once called home had been swallowed into the water’s depths.

A hand gently pressed into your left shoulder, its callouses felt through the singed holes of your shirt—the contact causing you to look at the much shorter man. “I’m sorry, Captain. You did your best.”

The words meant well, but instead of commiserating, they reminded you that this was your failure. When the sensation of your throat tightening and eyes misting began, you shook your head. There would be no grieving until a new home was acquired.

Looking back at the shorter man, face composed and emotions pushed to the side. “Do we know where we’ve landed, Sal? I didn’t have time to look at the map; when I saw the opening, I thought it would be the only chance for our escape.”

Sal’s singular green eye widened before looking around the visible area, knowing he would be the only one of you to see in such darkness. “Not sure, we’ve never been this far north before.”

Not good.

Standing up, you internally shivered as the sensation of wet, sandy, cloth peeled from your damp, chilled skin. The only possessions left were on everyone’s backs, holes and all.

A strike of panic set in at that realization. Taking inventory, a hand reached up to count the baubles that adorned your earnings, relieved to feel all was accounted for. Looking down at the blistered and burned fingers, you grimaced at the thought of how bad the pain would be when removing the various roughly smithed rings. One of the bands looked almost embedded past the first few layers of skin, potentially touching bone.

Sal had followed in checking his personage for anything of value, even lifting his eye patch and ensuring that the smooth, unpolished diamond he kept was still hidden in the empty socket.

“We’re going to be stuck on land until a new home can be procured.” Turning, you saw the group huddled together for warmth, teeth chattering as they shivered.

“From here on out, it’s dry land rules and roles. We’re starting from nothing, so best behaviors until that changes.” At the nods given in response, you turned to your first mate. “We need to start a fire; we don’t need anyone dying of hypothermia-“ Everyone froze at a distinct sound.

Hoof-beats.

The sound rumbled further up into the tree line, accompanied by voices that called out, echoing into the fjord. Lanterns swayed and grew brighter with each moment the owners grew closer.

Head snapping back to the others, you whispered, “Remember the rules. No one speaks until I say so.” A groan caught your attention just before Sal almost lost his balance. “What's wrong? Why-“ Pulling your hand away from the back of his head, you felt the warmth just as you smelt its metallic scent.

Your hand was entirely coated in bright red blood from just that moment of contact; a quick glance back at the sand where he had first laid showed a small puddle where the ground's compression had helped to pause the bleeding, only momentarily. “Why didn't you say anything?” you hissed before trying to apply what little pressure your pain-filled hand could tolerate. A gruff whisper was his only response: “Didn't want to worry you.”

“Idiot” was the only word that could be mustered while ideas sprinted in your mind at what to do next. The lanterns were getting closer, the voices becoming more evident each second. It was a gamble, but it was the only possible choice you could see.

“Someone, help us!” Shouting into the night air, voice raising louder with the following sentence. “Pirates have attacked us!” At first, the crew members' confusion read clearly on their faces, until your stern glare made them realize what was happening. One by one, they began clutching various parts of their bodies, crying out and groaning in pain.

Sal chuckled in your arms, shaking his head before he lost consciousness, his full weight now on you to hold up. Once the owners of the lanterns broke through the bushes, they rushed in to help. But it was clear that there was surprise on both parties’ sides when seeing who the other was.

Elves? Just how far north had you drifted?

Cirdan was genuinely shocked at what he and his townspeople stumbled upon. When first spotting the burning ship, the assumption was that the sailors aboard would be his own kind—not humans. As the others rushed to those rolling in agony on the sand, he quickly made his way to where you were struggling to maintain balance while holding a relatively short man.

Finally, you allowed the tears to flow, teeth chattering as the adrenalin began to wear off and what little warmth you had dissipated. “Please, help us.” The older elf’s heart broke at the sight before him, and within the hour, you and your crew had been taken back to town to be tended to.

By midnight, Sal’s head had been stitched and bandaged. Once asleep, the shorter man's snoring rattled the walls of the boat builders' small home. The other members' wounds had been cleaned before special herbs that none of you recognized were placed over them. With no spare rooms, Cirdan was left to care for the ship’s captain on his dining table.

The first rinse to clean the wounds on your palms had not been too painful. But as the elf used various instruments to take out the bits of splintered wood, broken threads of rope, and shattered glass, you began to think that he was torturing you instead of healing.

At another flinch, Cirdan’s focus shifted to take in your exhausted face. The grimacing expression telling how much you were ready to be done with the tedious task before you both. “Almost done. I am pleased to say you will still have full use of your hands.” He whispered.

As everyone else slept, only a few candles lit the small area needed to see as he worked. In search of distraction from the sensitive and tender discomfort, attention shifted to the papers scattered around the table he had you perched on. The first few were just lists and notes, but something caught your eye.

It was beautiful.

Triple-masted, square-cut sales, the hull was designed in such detail that it felt like, with one good shake, it would drop out of the page into the water.

As you became further engrossed with the drawing, you unknowingly leaned further and further. Cirdan looked up, ready to ask you to sit still again. But when he followed where your attention had gone, he smiled softly before gently guiding your palms back into the position needed. Focusing back on digging out a particularly stubborn glass shard, he egged on your curiosity. “If you enjoy that one, you should see the one you are sitting on.”

When a deep blush of embarrassment spread across your face, he chuckled. “Here, let me help.” With the boat master’s aid to lean to the opposite side now, he pulled free the design to lay the now crinkled paper on the table for easier viewing.

Just like the previous design, this, too, was stunning. Were such ships possible to build? Once back to work on your hands, you took the opportunity to shift your attention from the design to begin admiring the unique features of the elf's home.

Intricate hand-carved details were everywhere. Spiraled door handles, doorway arches with such delicate flowers and vines it was a wonder they didn’t break, and the wall next to the dining table was carved from ceiling to floor, detailing a flock of cranes surrounded by tall standing trees.

“Did you design them?” Attention back to the page that had previously been sat on. An idea began to form in your mind at his nod and smile. “They’re beautiful; building something as grand as those must take a lifetime.”

“They are, though I am not sure if they will ever be brought into existence.” The tone of his voice tells of the pride in his creations and the enjoyment of such praise.

Allowing your voice to soften, your head tilting, and your lips turning up at the corners as you spoke, “They’re unique. It's so clear in everything you touch that this is what you were meant to do.”

As you continued, the tips of pointed ears peeking out from silver hair tinged in a faint blush. “Every detail thought through so clearly,” Cirdan gulped as he nervously tried to focus on the task before him.

But the poor boat builder struggled even more when you teasingly smiled while praising his work. “Even your door handles and chairs adorn your touches.” Your eyes locked for a moment, just long enough to see the faint tinge of a flustered blush topping the apples of his cheeks. A single fluter of your lashes and you glanced at his lips for a moment before returning to the pages laid out.

“Um, Y-yes. Yes, I feel such joy and fulfillment in what I do and what it means for my people.” He placed the metal instruments down on the woven cloth that held other items, ones that looked sharper and more intimidating the longer you looked. The response was a murmured thank you as he began placing crushed herbs over the now clean wounds. As the gauze was wrapped around each finger delicately, it was Cirdan’s turn to ask a question.

“I am curious about your ship; it saddens me that I did not have a chance to see its beauty.” The fingers he still wrapped tensed in his hands; at looking up, he saw how the color left your face, eyes turned down; it was clear you weren't there with him at that moment. “Oh, I am sorry,” turning, he brought a warm cup of tea to your lips, your hands still unable to hold anything. “In my curiosity, I did not think of your pain and loss.”

The elves' eyes watched subtly as your lips curled and then relaxed to part, observing how your throat swallowed the warm liquid he had provided. Patiently waiting until you had your fill before putting the cup down and turning back to finish bandaging up to your wrists.

Cirdan finished the bandaging with the last wrap around your wrist. In the time it took to stand, gather the instruments, and look between you and his designs on the table, an idea began to form at the front of his mind. “Is it difficult to ascertain a new vessel in your homelands?” His back faced you as he cleaned the blood from the metal objects in the sink.

His shoulders dropped as your voice broke. “My home is very far from here.” For the second time in the night, the boat master felt his heartbreak at such sadness.

That settles it, then. He had to do something. There was only so long and so little room that Grey Haven’s harbor could offer hospitality, not to mention there being no clear path ahead for you. “What I say next, you must know, is not meant to push you out.” He watches the way you curl into yourself, preparing in resignation already.

“My home is small, not suited to provide the proper healing your crew needs. I will send a message to my king-,” Your eyes widen, shaking your head as you tell him no. But he will hear none of it. Raising a hand to stop your protests, the elf continues, “I will write to my king and ask that he finds it in his heart to show compassion, especially to those that deserve it.”

You tell him you don't know how to repay his kindness; he scoffs and drinks the now-cold tea to hide the blush dusting the apple of his cheeks. The rest of the night is spent playing a few games of chess. It would have just been one, but with your hands being as they are, you kept accidentally bumping multiple pieces around. With each game, the conversation turned back to ships, elven ships.

As the darkness of night began to give way to the first glow of dawn on the horizon, Cirdan excused himself to write the letter that would be sent ahead to Lindon’s Capital. At that same time, you went to Sal. Gently, you slinked into the bedroom so as not to wake the rest of the crew before sitting on the edge of the bed that was so graciously granted to your first mate.

“Sal, Sal!” You voiced louder than planned at the shorter man’s deep sleep, which refused to release him. Finally, the rough shake to his shoulder roused him. “Wha-Whats going on?” With a quick hand over his mouth to quiet him down, you pressed a finger to your lips before whispering. “I have just spent the last few hours speaking with our new friend. He has been very kind.”

You couldn't help but chuckle at the responding wiggling eyebrows, his single eye wide in excitement. “How kind?” You leaned in to reply with a whisper, a wicked smile its companion. “Kind enough to ask if his king would help us.” Sal’s jaw dropped in shock before punching your shoulder. “How in the hell did you pull that off?”

Sitting straight, the back of your hand pressed to your forehead, sighing dramatically before speaking, “Who will take pity on little ole me, a female captain with no ship to call home? My poor crew, so ill, that even elven healers struggle to help them.”

Shaking his head while chuckling, Sal crossed his arms while wiggling more comfortably into the bed’s soft feather pillows. “So what’s the plan?”

Your smirk grew at the question.

———————

With the first rays of morning light, a plan in motion, and rules set in place, you met with Cirdan and the escort outside his home, where a hiccup had already appeared.

You nervously approached the giant beast, flinching back when its large nostrils grunted out a rush of breath. “I’ve never ridden a horse before. Can I not just walk behind?” A sympathetic smile graced the boat master’s lips as the other elf mounted their steed. “Walking would take extra days that your crew may not have. If you are unsure of riding alone, ride with the escort; they will ensure your safe arrival.”

Anxiously, you nodded in agreement, unable to see a different path around the logic presented. A few awkward jumps and one petrified yelp later saw you and the expert rider heading up the road to the capital—the poor elf at the mercy of your fearfully white-knuckled grip in their ribs. The pain in your hands be damned.

Lindon’s Palace

My Dear King,

I write to you earnestly, asking that aid be offered to someone deserving of such compassion. A pirate attack has left my new friend without a ship or home, and a crew suffering from ailments beyond my healing capabilities. The ship's Captain will arrive with an escort so that you yourself can make sound judgments of their character.

Gil-Galad re-read the letter. In his years of friendship with the Lord of Grey Haven, only a handful of times had the elder asked for royal assistance, unlike some of the other stewards of his kingdom, who seemed to lack such abstention.

He sighed when sid-eyeing the pile of letters and scrolls stacked high upon the oak desk, still awaiting answers. Fiddling with the paper’s edge, unrolling it further as he sat in thought, a previously unseen line of penmanship caught his attention.

I suggest conversing over a game of chess; you may be pleasantly surprised as I was in their company.

Your Faithful Friend, Cirdan

With a scoff, he flicked the paper back to its place on the desk's clutter. It had been hours, and barely a dent had been made in the mountain of documents that had arrived the day before.

With his kingdom settling into a gentle rhythm after so many years of war, the High King started feeling something unexpected- boredom. Gone were the days of extreme stress, battle planning, and mourning for his people. Now, they were filled with small pleasantries, mastering crafts, and, unfortunately, paperwork.

Leaning back into the hand-carved chair, fingers rubbed along the pulsing ache of his forehead, pain caused by the hours of eyes straining on documents.

A groan left his chest when an unfortunately familiar warmth spread across the top of a kneecap. The morning’s rays had started to inch into his room, their gentle cares on his vestige announcing that another sleepless night had passed.

Muscles ached and throbbed as he stood to stretch before walking to the window to watch the sunrise. His attention to the sunrise over the horizon was shifted down from his room in the tower at the arrival of a horse carrying two persons.

One was an elf, and the other a human woman. It was hard not to chuckle while watching as her arms shakily reached out to the escort to assist in the dismount from their horse, legs wobbling once on solid ground. As the escort walked off with the creature to announce their arrival, she stayed in place, observing the entry area's flora and white-barked trees.

It was rare to see a human in his kingdom. Even in memory, it was a struggle to gleam the last one and when they came. It was not surprising, as curiosity peaked about the mortal creature that had appeared at random.

That is what he told himself, at least, as his eyes fixated on the wild wind-swept hair that glowed from the crepuscular rays of morning. And repeated internally again, when observing the silhouette outlined from the sheer fabrics she wore when bending to smell a vine of jasmine.

The voice was not repeated a third time when his eyes honed in on the gentle slopes of her bust; nipples pebbled hard by the cold morning's dew. Each movement allowed more and more to be revealed by the fabric's owner. The tall elf’s heart rate panicked at admiring rounded hips that harmonized with the tops of plush, strong thighs and a waist--

When a knock raps at the bedroom door, he jumps, placing a wide palm to his chest, letting out a breath he was unaware was being held. With a final glance back at the woman, he shakes his head and asks the attendant to come in.

“High King, a visitor has arrived from Grey Haven to speak with you. Master Cirdan has sent them.” Gil-Galad froze, and his heart rate, still yet to calm down from moments ago, increased.

A quick glance to the desk where Cirdan’s note sat, as its words read out in his mind. Certainly, she was not the captain he spoke of. What in the world was that blasted boatmaker thinking? The shorter elf’s expression made Gil-Galad realize he took longer than usual to respond.

“I will be there in but a moment. Please see that our guest is attended to until then.” Gil-Galad’s eyebrow quirked as his attendant paused awkwardly, a tilt of his head letting the shorter elf know to speak. “Sire, your meeting with the human may need to wait a few days so that-“ Gil-Galad held up his hand as the memory of sheer fabric flashed away just as quickly as it had appeared.

“Master Cirdan has informed me that the aid needed for the human stands on the direness of time. I will meet with them first during my morning meal; that should allow a better inclusion of my schedule.”

With a swift nod, the shorter elf leaves to inform the morning staff of the changes. In the reflection across from where he stood, exhausted eyes and a stern expression looked back. In a singular sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Just when it seems a moment to himself has appeared, the morning maids come in to prepare a bath and lay out the royal robes.

In toe behind them, the royal retainer began listing the days itinerary, explaining how every minute of the hours were filled with meetings, agreements, and document signatures. With a singular sigh and torpid blink, he turns to take the prepared bath and begrudgingly get the day started.

When an attendant had come to gather you and usher the way to an empty grand dining room to wait, it felt like a small gift.

Palpations had been occurring every few minutes since the moment your feet touched the ground after riding for hours. Hopefully, this would give time to help calm them. Chalking the rapid heart rate up to nerves and still feeling so tired, you reminded yourself that rest, food, and sleep would come eventually. But the plan took precedence over everything, no matter the cost.

The first few minutes were spent sitting at the opposite end of the room’s expansive stone table, until those nerves raised back up—skin itching, and not just on the slowly scabbing wounds of your hands. Legs crossed only to un-cross and then cross again. The liquid in the glass of wine on the table rippled from how hard your knee bounced. When all this did nothing to aid in the growing feeling of unease, you resorted to pacing back and forth, back and forth, until the feeling of dizziness came on.

At the sound of your stomach echoing into the quiet room, you side-eyed the table. The temptation was hard to resist at the site of the varying fruits, cheeses, bread, and dishes for breakfast. While subtle, the aromas still had made their way to your nose.

With a head shake, you continued pacing; by now, you were sure that a grove had been worked into the floor. Glancing back to the chair at the opposite end of the table, a small tremor corded its way from where the palpations started to both of your poor, still wobbling legs. One misstep, one accidental insult, and the plan would be over before it could be put into motion.

With a deep breath, you hoped to calm your heart’s racing; nervousness would not be an ally. Another breath, followed by many more in succession. Still, the beating thrummed with such intensity it felt as if the betraying organ was in your throat, determined to expel itself and do a jig at your feet to taunt you.

Distraction.

Distraction would help, you hoped. Turning around, you desperately tried to focus now on the grandiose tapestry that hung twenty feet in the air. Its textured masterpiece taking so much space that the raw threadbare edges touched the flooring and side walls.

Red, look for something red. Rose bushes came into clarity on the lower section. A breath, this one a little easier- but still, your chest held tight. Animals, find the animals. Swans were flying in the open sky of the fibers- was that a unicorn?

Each detail of the textile artwork helped to distract from the sensation that rattled against your ribs. In a further attempt to add comfort, you wrapped your arms around yourself, desperately hoping to soothe the nerves that struggled to dissipate.

____

Even after the warmth of a bath and fresh clothes, Gil-Galad found his heart rate had yet to slow since looking out the window. Surely it was just another sleepless night of work that made it hard to calm such a tempestuous beating? Obviously, this peculiar feeling was not brought on by how his mind's eye sought to wave the memory of curves, backlit in a warm glow—always right when mental clarity was needed.

When reaching the dining hall, Gil-Galad held up a hand to let his attendant know he would be entering the room alone, unannounced. Cirdan had made it clear that he should make a sound and solid judgment of the Captain's character before making any decisions in the offer of aid. A wisdom he would heed. Speaking would also be better without extra eyes watching. However, it would have been better if his mind had been allowed to think of questions to ask before this moment.

Quietly, the private royal entrance opened, its door only opening for him and him alone. Stone that once lay flat and blended into the wall shifted back, then slid just enough for his size to squeeze into the room—unnoticed. The internal expectation from past interactions with mortals was that his guest would be gorging themselves on the food laid before them. But once inside, surprise met that expectation. The only other chair besides his sat empty, the dishes untouched.

There, at the other end of the room, unaware of his presence, you stood. Elven ears picked up the sounds of deep breathing, eyes watching as your heavily bandaged hands rubbed your arms while swaying gently from side to side. Gil-Galad’s eyes trailed once more to the clothes draped on your figure. Cirdan had dressed you in something so sheer?

Perhaps the boat builder had not realized that the gift offered to you had been- No. Cirdan was too bright and observant to have missed something like this. That old perverted- at the memory of this morning, the realization he had no hill to stand on and judge hit him.

Yet, he could not look away. The tension came back to his chest, and just as it began to crawl its way down, inch by inch, to an area of his body that he refused to acknowledge, panic set in and forced the moment to break.

“You have yet to eat.”

With a yelp of shock, you nearly jumped out of your skin. Turning with wide eyes and a hand to your poor, overworked, thumping heart. Finding the voice’s owner standing at the opposite end of the room.

When first trying to picture what an elven king might have looked like, your imagination pulled from what was known of your own kind. Rulers that were repugnant, rotund, and gangrenous from a life of riches and idleness.

What you did not anticipate was to be greeted with the amused expression of a very tall elf, whose attractiveness you pretended not to feel any way about. It took a moment for the shock to pass before finding yourself. “N-no.” A breath. “No, I felt it would be rude to eat before my host arrived.”

It was as if time had frozen for a moment, two statues unmoving as they visually memorized what was in front of them. Sheer fabric clashed with the opulent, almost excessive layers of gold on the opposite side. Warm brown eyes, unblinking in their seriousness, scrutinized the shocked hesitancy in your own.

When you both tried to speak simultaneously, a polite smile graced his lips as he motioned for you to go first. A thanks would be the best choice, grateful that such a renowned, elven king would spare an hour to hear a poor human captain’s woes. Pleasantries to be embellished so prettily in their bestowment.

Sadly, that option would be ruined by a comically loud growl from your stomach, no doubt retaliation at being teased for so long by such appetizing smells. Gil-Galad watched as your eyes shut laggardly before opening again, now refusing to meet his own from embarrassment.

He gave you a gift of mercy in finding the strength to choke back a laugh. “It would appear that, as a host, I have been discourteous to test the patience of such a considerate guest.” Motioning for you to sit, he continued, “Please, eat. I would ask if you are hungry, but I believe that answer has already been given.”

Unlike the High King, you did not find the strength to choke back a laugh from the jest. When your eyes met again, an expression of mirth greeted the faint blush of your cheeks. Gods have mercy; this was going to be a challenge. The elf barely said two sentences, and already, you were struggling.

Gil-Galad gulped as you pulled up your chair to sit more comfortably; he could not understand the reasons for his nerves. His gaze trailed once more to the unexpected guest across the table, unknowingly unaware of the detail being taken in of your personage.

In the earnings that dangled down to the tops of your collar bones, polished beads of sea glass glowed, backlit by the candles behind you. Indigo-dyed whalebone and sea urchin spines brandished with petrified beads of amber hung on uneven lengths of fishing wire.

Rough and raw cut jewels adorned roughly smithed mental bands, assorted in the widths of rings that hung from your neck while your fingers healed. He would admit that such ornaments are much more maximal and eclectic than is commonly seen of his own kind.

His heart rate, which had just calmed, began racing again as he watched your lips part, tongue welcoming a bite of food. His vision tunneled to take in greater detail when your brows knit together in pleasure as the flavors danced across your palate.

Blinking, he pulled himself out of the hyper-focus when reaching forward to grip the golden handle of a wine glass. Trying to calm the returning tension he had felt when watching you from when he first entered the room. This was going to be a problem.

Light filtered off your fork, hand tremoring in hunger as the choices become overwhelming. It felt as if the room was getting darker and hazy around its edges. Cirdan had offered food when playing chess, but between the pain in your hands and the nausea from still coming down from the adrenalin of survival, any thought of eating was quickly turned down.

On top of that, the ship had floated for two days into the fjord without a bite of food or water. To say you were starving was an understatement. It took every ounce of self-control not to gorge like a wild animal after the first bite into a roasted pear with salted honey, its juices bursting in your mouth.

“Lord Cirdan wrote that your ship and crew were attacked by pirates and are in further need of aid.” The question caught you off guard, cheeks chipmunk-ed out at trying to fit as many roasted butter beans into your mouth as physically possible. Peeking up, it was obvious the elf knew exactly what he had done from the smirk that pulled from the edges of his lips.

As desperate as you were to swallow your way out of this, chewing was the only option. Could you simply spit out the beans? Yes, but that would only cause further humiliation for him to watch the act. Quickly grabbing the napkin laid under the other silverware, you covered your lips and cheeks as you chewed quickly, jaw clicking from the strain.

When finally able to get the last bit down to respond, another question was put forth. “What exactly happened to your ship, the- what was its name?”

Cirdan had been correct in knowing his king would hold no punches in the judgment of your character. Gil-Galad knew that his questioning was starting to get under your skin. And what better way to begin seeing someone for who they are than by seeing how they handle their frustration?

As the minutes passed and no response was given, his eyebrow raised expectantly. Were you trying to formulate a lie? At the tilt of his head, his eyes hardened. “Are you alright?”

You chuckled hollowly, feeling a spark of enjoyment in watching Gil-Galad’s expression change to irritation as you spoke. Two could play at that game. “Only waiting to see if there are other questions, Your Majesty. I do not wish to offend such a curious mind by interrupting its thoughts.”

Gil-Galad knew that if he were here, Elrond would snort out his wine. It appears that the High King would also be judged on how his temper would be handled. Raising his palm, he gave the motion to speak.

With a deep sigh, you tried to calm the frustration that had been brought forth. “My crew and I were set upon by pirates three days ago; their cannons tore holes into the hull of my ship. By some miracle, we escaped from being boarded, but in our escape, I had steered us into a waterway that none of us recognized.”

When no interruption came, you continued. “Lord Cirdan had seen my ship just as it began taking on more water than we could bucket out.” It was unnerving being watched so intensely, warm eyes unblinking in their judgment of every word uttered into the air. “He was kind enough to offer aid. But he realized we have no way of getting home, at least not any way that would not take years on foot.”

Still not a blink from the scrutinizing gaze, you gulped to wet your now cotton-dry throat as sweat dripped down your neck. “Asking for help is not something I have any practice in. But for the people that depend on me, I will do anything in my capabilities to see that they survive.”

Silence stretched between you both. Gil-Galad contemplated your tale, sight now set on the wine glass before him. When speaking of your crew and their care, he could sense no lies, but why was his gut tightening, waiting, and expecting? It felt as if something was missing. Perhaps speaking of such a harrowing escape was not something you wished to delve into further detail.

Or -gods forgive him- the tightening that was felt had nothing to do with your words, and more to do with the internal befuddlement trying to be ignored since your arrival.

You watched as golden fibers wrapped around the barrel waist in front of you strained against expanding ribs. A deep, belly-filled breath was exhaled slowly and quietly in contemplation. As his lips parted to speak, the dining room’s doors opened. The shorter elf that first guided you in giving a small bow.

“High King, I apologize for the interruption, but the lords are gathered and waiting for you.” Whatever tension that had been building was broken instantly. Fresh air from the outside corridor wafted in, and both of you took the opportunity to breathe.

The sound of chair legs scraped against the floor as he stood, an air of equanimity held in his stance as he stared down at where you still sat, slouched back into your seat. “Please forgive my sudden departure. I would like to continue this discussion later this evening if you are amenable to the offer.” He continued at the single nod you gave while walking over to his attendant.

“Please see that our guest is given a room and fed.” At the bow of the shorter elf, the two of them slowly walked out into the hall, leaving you to watch as the door closed behind them. Once Gil-Galad was certain that you could not hear, he leaned down to whisper one last order. “And see to it that she has…warmer attire prepared. I would not wish for our guest to take a chill from the temperature tonight.” At the hesitant bow given before the shorter elf left, Gil-Galad realized he was not the only one struggling whenever what you were wearing was seen.

Once alone, he sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose. It had only been a singular hour of the morning, and already, it was obvious that the day would be as long as it was stressful.

I have this idea that Gil-Galad is never truly content. War? -Hate it. Calm and tranquil? - Bored out of his mind. So when this Captain comes around he both loves and hates how hes feeling. I'm working on outlining the next chapter but it may take a bit before its edited and posted. So please be patient. Love you all and hope you enjoy and are surviging my friends!

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[arczism]

I have a question for you. I saw this post on my feed https://www.tumblr.com/arczism/767406042232602624?source=share (very nice by the way, I love the detail. I don’t have the ability to describe my full awe right now so *insert extremely poetic prose about your awesome artwork) I was wondering how you managed to make the characters feel like they have weight. In the image, it genuinely looks like Zoro is pressing into/onto Sanji, and Sanji is pressed into the bed. I don’t know how else to describe it. They feel… real. Like if I actually tried holding the image it would feel like tiny people were inside. Do you have any tips on drawing how people fit together without making them seem like plastic Barbie dolls placed on top of each other? (In way less metaphorical terms, how do you draw a human like their made of meat, blood, bones, etc?)

Hey! Sorry it took me so long to reply. I'm not the best at explaining, but I’ll give it a shot. Just so you know, I’m not a professional artist, I’m self-taught too, so I don’t really feel like I’m in a position to give advice, but I can try to explain my process. Just keep in mind that it works for me, and I could be totally wrong!

Drawing bodies interacting with each other is hella tough, but it’s just like any other skill. At the end of the day, we only get better at art by practicing and observing. That’s how I see it.

I use a lot of references when I draw. Like, A LOT. Expression references, pose references, anatomy references, color schemes, lighting references. I usually go all-in when creating a piece, making a little collage with inspirations and references before even starting. Then I just build on it over time (which is why it takes me so long to start comms </3).

Another super helpful thing for me was studying, breaking down pictures, and tracing. Painting over pictures helps with learning and understanding how bodies work and interact.

You gotta be careful, though—sometimes it can make your art look stiff, so try to add some movement where you can. Hair is always a good place to add a bit of flow! Also, look for clean, simplified shapes.

So yeah, no secret to it, I just use tons of references (because I’m still learning too) and practice a lot </3 From my experience, that "plastic Barbie" look usually comes from not feeling comfortable with certain angles or perspectives, but that definitely improves with practice, too, so no worries!