#i've read it so many times for typos i feel like it's really stupid now >.<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

Why Don't You Stay; We've Got Tonight II (Paul McCartney x Starr!Female!Reader NSFW)

Find Part One Here

A/N: Y'all asked, y'all shall receive. Thank you all again for the support; I love writing for every single one of you.

I would like to also personally thank my Brainstorming Buddy/ Editor @strawb3rri-le. the last three or four fics I've posted, including this one, would not have been possible had it not been for you, so I thank you from the literal bottom of my heart for being the Lennon to my McCartney in this writing journey. Here's to many more wonderful stories to come! <3

Summary: You and Paul get intimate after agreeing to be there for one another.

This is also inspired by Bob Seger's We've Got Tonight, so be sure to listen to that for your own listening/ reading pleasure!

WARNINGS: SMUT, please don't interact if you're under the age of 18, I'll call your mom. Fluffy unprotected sex (Wrap it before you Tap it amirite?) ANGST; this fic gets SAD midway through, mentions of cheating/ exes being stupid, but there is fluff in the end which makes it all better. Swearing is a given, maybe a few typos.

This one is rated 18+ or R, so tread with caution ONLY if you're of age please, I cannot stress that enough!!!

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"I really am."

"Then there's nothing to worry about."

Paul was watching you from what little light was flooding through the window of his room. He could have asked you that question a hundred more times; but he just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

He opened his mouth to inquire yet again, but you stepped towards him, lips connecting with his to ease his worries. You felt his tension melt away slowly, hands drifting down to hold your waist as you placed one hand on his chest, the other resting on his shoulder.

You pulled away slightly to glance at his sweater, and Paul watched you intensely as your hand slid down the fabric painfully slow, your fingers dipping into every clothed muscle on his torso until they were toying with the hem at his hips.

"... This should go," you suggested in a hushed tone, and after a moment of letting the recommendation settle in both of your minds, Paul let go of you, pulling it up and off him with your help, and the sweater fell to the carpet with a soft thud.

When your hand returned to his chest, now bare, you examined just how toned he was. You had no clue someone of Paul's stature could be hiding such a body under simple knit sweaters and turtlenecks; but it was a pleasant surprise.

As your palm drifted around his skin, feeling the light hairs on his chest, his own fingers couldn't help but drag along the uppermost edge of your own pyjama top. His gentle touch left a trail of goosebumps on you, his eyes following his fingers as his hand slowed to a stop above your heart.

"And, perhaps this, as well...?" Paul asked rather innocently, eyes flitting back up to meet your own gaze. You nodded a little, watching as he ran his tongue against his bottom lip. "Lift up."

You raised your arms for him, and felt your top slide up and off you, his fingers grazing your sides gently as he removed it from your body. Paul held it in his hands for a moment, eyes drifting down a little to look at the sight before him. The top fell to the floor, along with his discarded sweater, and you both stared at each other for a moment.

Paul's eyelids lowered and he sighed at you, hands reaching out to hold you again. He cupped you at the base of your ribs, his thumbs drawing nonsensical patterns on the skin under your breasts as he closed the gap between you again. As your lips pressed together, Paul slowly walked you back to the edge of his bed, where you lowered yourself to sit when you felt the mattress against the back of your legs.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, finally pulling away to look at you again. His hands moved up carefully to cup your breasts, and you shut your eyes. He gauged your reaction to his touch, and feeling his thumbs run gently over your nipples made your head drop back. You whined a little, that familiar, yet longing feeling you hadn't experienced in a while was making itself known deep within you.

His hot breath was fanning against your skin, and Paul asked you in the most delicate tone, a simple, yet effective, "May I?" And all you could do was nod to him.

You whined again when Paul's lips made contact with your breast, his left hand kneading the other carefully as his right squeezed your side in affection. You slid your hands up through his hair, and you felt him moan against your left nipple as his other hand rolled your right one between his fingers.

You both had to try your best to keep on the quieter side since it was so late; and no one else should have known what you two were doing. Unfortunately, Paul's... handiwork... wasn't anything to be quiet about.

"Paul," you choked out, tilting your head up a little, and he removed his mouth from your nipple to look you right in the eyes.

"You like that?"

"Yes," you nodded your head rather frantically, spurring him to get right back to work, but switching sides, lips and tongue teasing your right breast as your left now gained the attention of his fingers.

Your knees fell away from one another as you tilted your head back again, breath ragged as Paul worked his magic. You felt his hand slide down your waist to drag along the band on your pyjama bottoms, but he was in no rush to tell you to take them off.

His hand actually continued to slide down to your thigh, and he squeezed you gently as you felt his tongue swirl around your nipple, and you rolled your hips against his body on reflex, choking out another whine as you tugged at his hair a little harder. He smiled with a pleasant hum before pulling his mouth away from your body.

You huffed at the cool air hitting your wet breasts, but he placed another warm kiss on your lips, one of his hands holding the back of your neck, and your discomfort faded away almost instantly. His other hand was still on your thigh, but slowly trailing back up to the waistband on your pyjama bottoms.

Paul deepened the kiss just for a moment as his finger hooked into the band. When you both separated again, he rested his forehead against yours, heavy eyes opening to look at you.

"Isn't it about time these go, too?" There was something so carnal about his words, yet they still held an abundant amount of respect for you, and your comfort; and, dear God, it turned you on so badly.

You didn't even respond to his question. You just removed your hands from his hair so you could support yourself from the mattress from your elbows, raising your hips off the bed a little so he could pull the rest of the clothes off your body. You watched as Paul did just that, your bottoms relinquished to the pile of clothes building off to the side, your legs not so spread apart anymore.

It looked as if he were in a trance, hands on your thighs as he examined your nude body in fascination. You watched him watch you, still propped up on your elbows, and you felt almost embarrassed under his gaze until he mumbled, fingers kneading into the tense muscles on your legs, "perfect. Absolutely perfect."

You blushed as he tenderly spread your legs open, unhurriedly, and he groaned at the sight of just how wet you were for him.

"Oh, Darling..."

Your face felt so hot, especially when you watched him lick those damned lips of his again.

"I want to taste you, you look so damn sweet." His thumbs continued to massage between your thighs, and you could feel yourself getting even wetter. You felt like you needed to return the favour.

"I... Did you want me to--"

"No," Paul interrupted lightly with a simple shake of his head. It was like he read your mind. "Keep moaning, keep pulling my hair. Those beautiful noises you're making have me feeling the best kind of way right now."

Every word he said contributed to enhancing the pit of arousal you were feeling within, and you were almost speechless. No one had ever spoken to you that way before, not even your ex, the one with whom you felt you shared your most intimate moments with. But after what had already happened in that room, between you and Paul, comparing them was out of the question.

You could feel his breath against your heat, your blood pumping loud in your ears.

"Paul, please..." you whispered, but he just stared at you, fingers still rubbing your thighs.

"Please what, Lovely?" You knew he was doing this on purpose, especially when he rested his head down onto your left leg to give you those alluring puppy-dog eyes.

"I can't give you what you what you want if you don't tell me what it is you need."

Your mouth formed a few shapes without you making a sound. You sighed, breath shaky as you gathered enough composure to groan, "I need your mouth. Please."

"Where?" Paul asked innocently. You were secretly loving the way he was teasing you, but on the other hand, you were beginning to feel desperate for his touch. His left hand reached up towards you, and a single finger rested against the skin between your breasts.

"Here?" He questioned softly, dark eyes watching you as you shook your head. He dragged his finger so painfully slow down your body, stopping at your abdomen to ask again.

"What about here?"

"Please," you were begging him at this point, but Paul continued to take his time, drawing his finger lower, and lower, until he was just above your folds.

"Just little lower," you pleaded to him desperately, and when you finally felt him pull his hand away to hold your thighs apart, you knew he was done playing games with you.

He gave you one more sultry look before dropping his head between your legs, tongue gently lapping away at your arousal, and you cried out his name. He opened his eyes to watch you react from his place as he continued rolling his tongue against you at an even pace.

You lowered your back to the bed, legs instinctively trying to squeeze together at the feeling of Paul's sweet mouth where you needed him most, but he continued to hold a firm grip on your thighs to keep them in place.

His beard scratched at your legs a little, but in the best kind of way. His nose bumped against your clit and your hands found their way back into his mess of locks again, tugging and driving him closer to you. He moaned against you, the vibrations shooting a chill up through your body.

He pulled away a little, mouth shining with your arousal, and his eyelashes lowered over his eyes as he mumbled, "Oh, my dear, you taste better than I ever dreamed you would."

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, the idea of such a beautiful man dreaming about being between your legs and tasting you, and wanting this had you feeling some kind of way.

"Please, don't stop," you whined gently, and he responded with a quiet laugh.

"Oh, my sweet girl, I'm nowhere near being done with you yet. Don't you worry."

A mix of relief and lust rushed your emotions, and Paul's eyes continued to watch you as he let go of your right leg, hand coming up to his face before putting his middle finger in his mouth.

You stared in anticipation as he pulled his saliva-covered finger out from between his lips before plunging it right into you, and you cried out again, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes as you pushed your hips up against his hand.

It was Paul's turn to stare, and you felt him curl his finger inside of you before adding another and repeating the beckoning motion again, free hand pressing your hip down to keep you from moving so much.

"You okay, Lovely?" He asked in a low tone, watching as your body twitched and writhed with everything he did.

"Yes, keep going, Paulie," you whimpered, encouraging his hand to quicken before he dipped back down, lips wrapping around your nub, and all you could see were stars. Your hips rocked up again, and Paul released your waist a little to let you squirm around.

"Paulie, I'm gonna..." you stumbled over your words as you felt your orgasm nearing quickly, your hands balled into tight fists in his hair still. One more finger curl was all he had to do before you released all over them with a cry. You mumbled nonsensical speech as Paul pulled back a little and admired his achievement, your arousal dripping down his hand as he let you ride it out.

"That's it, do whatever makes you feel good, my angel." His praise was addicting, your eyes rolled back as you revelled in this state of euphoria. It wasn't long before your hips fell back onto the bed, and you sighed out when Paul removed his fingers from you.

You took a moment to fixate your gaze on him. His pupils were blown, staring at you in the face with his lips parted. You relieved some of the tightness in your fists so you weren't gripping his hair so hard, mumbling a whispered apology for being so harsh with that.

Paul responded to you, not with words, but by stalking up your body slowly, silently, as a predator would to its prey; and he pressed a kiss to your mouth, tongue pushing its way past your teeth so you could taste yourself.

You groaned, sitting up slowly as to not break the kiss. You reached down towards the belt wrapped around his hips, undoing it blindly and pulling it from the loops of his jeans. You needed him, and he was strained so tightly in those trousers, you knew it couldn't have been comfortable for him. You parted from the kiss, but keeping the distance close between you two.

"Are you positive you don't want me going down on you?" Your question seemed as innocent as if could have been, and Paul just smiled a little with another head shake.

"Baby girl, as long as you're getting off, so am I."

You hummed at his response. You hoped he wouldn't quit with the pet names. Your eyes glanced down to the jeans you were in the middle of taking care of, and Paul was already popping the button off them.

His eyes trailed back up to your face before he put his palm innocently over your heart, pushing you down onto your back again.

"Just lean back and relax, my sweet thing. You just stay there and look pretty while I take care of you. Make you feel good."

You watched him from your lying position as he moved to stand by the foot of the bed, dropping his jeans to the floor after wiping his hands off on them before he turned back to you. His stare didn't seem all that possessive and dark anymore like it had been during foreplay.

He was looking at you with a type of sincerity that brought warmth to your soul.

You were under a spell, unable to disengage from his stare, even when he climbed back onto the bed, and spread your legs apart again. He briefly looked away from you to position his cock properly, and you watched the concentration on his face morph into mild enjoyment as he circled the head around your pussy teasingly.

Your eyebrows furrowed as your legs crossed around his waist, and he looked up at you through his eyelashes. Those perfect pink lips of his parted, and he whispered to you with one more squeeze to your thigh, "are you ready?"

Your hands reached out for him, fingers clasping together at the back of his neck as you nodded your head. "I need you, Paul, Please."

"Don't worry, my Love. I'll give you exactly what you need."

And with an unhurried push of his hips, he was inside of you, and the most beautiful sound escaped his lips, in limbo between a moan and a whine, and the look on his face was blissful, eyes shut and mouth hanging open at the feeling of you.

You let out a deep, concentrated, pleasing sigh. It hadn't been forever since you last had sex, but it was definitely long enough. The stretch from his member filled you up in the greatest way; and Paul took it real slow for you.

"Fuck, you're so wet. So tight," he mumbled under his breath, exhaling deeply with every roll of his hips. His eyes drifted back open to watch your face, lowering his brow and whispering to you, "my Love, you promise to tell me if I'm ever hurting you?"

Your face flushed red at his words, and you nodded a little.

"Yes, Paulie. Absolutely." Your quiet response was uttered though little moans, a hint of emotion laced in your voice.

You were partial to that specific nickname. You felt you maybe liked it too much, but there was no denying that responding to it felt so right, and Paul, you felt, seemed to think regarding you that way was okay, as well. It made you feel like you were actually wanted, and you'd be lying if you didn't say you hadn't felt that way in a very long time.

Paul leaned down, arms on either side of your head as he kissed your lips, and you kissed back, fingers unclasping so you could once again run your nails along his scalp and through his hair. He groaned at the attention, rocking a little deeper now, and you pulled away from the kiss to whine at Paul's actions.

You arched your back as his movements sped up, and you could hear his breaths quickening as he settled on a steady pace. One of his hands slid in under your back to hold you closer, and he dropped his head into the cook of your neck.

He started placing kisses along the side of your throat, and then on your collarbone. "You have no idea... fuck... how long I've waited for you." He mumbled those words against your skin, and your conscience shot right awake from its besotted trance as you hyper-focussed on his words.

"I have been dreaming about this for so many nights... for so many years..."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Sure, you'd known Paul for a while, but never in your life did you think he was even remotely attracted, to you let alone actively fantasizing about the very moment you were both experiencing.

Your chest burned, intensely aware that as soon as this night was over, this feeling of togetherness, intimacy, and affection was going to die out like a candle flame, and you were going to be alone all over again. Your eyes were glassy with tears as you tried to draw Paul closer, opting to remove your fingers from his hair to wrap your arms around his body.

You began to push your hips back against Paul's, recieving a pleased hum from him. Your hands rubbed tenderly over the hot skin on his back as he continued to pour his heart out to you, breaking yours more with every word that left his mouth.

"My sweet Love; to think I've wanted you for so long... and now I have you. I'm the luckiest fucking guy in the world."

"Paul," you whimpered, head resting up against his shoulder as tears streamed down your cheeks from your eyes. You weren't entirely sure what came over you, but before you could even think, you were whispering to him, "please don't leave me."

"Never. My Love, I'll always be right here." His response was so effortless, and quick, and your ears seemed to be ringing again. He put his other hand at the back of your head, pulling you in closer as your bodies continued to rock together.

You could feel another orgasm nearing, and Paul must have known from the sounds coming from your mouth. He pulled his arm out from under your back to reach between the both of you, thumb toying with your clit as you cried out again, hips jerking harder and quicker against him, his own pace stuttering as he could feel the walls of your heat contracting against him.

"I-- I'm gonna..." you choked, and Paul rubbed between your legs even faster.

"Come undone, my Love," he encouraged weakly as he tried his best to keep going for you. You dropped your head back against the pillows and you cried out as another orgasm rushed you, more tears falling down your cheeks, as you returned to that feeling of ecstasy you were in only minutes before.

Paul leaned up, forehead and chest shining with sweat as he continued to pound into you, long hair matted against his skin as his pace fell apart, shuttering as he pulled out of you and came all over your stomach.

His head fell back, eyes falling shut as he called out your name, cum leaking out of him and all over you, but you were far from caring. His breaths were heavy as he gasped for air, and after a moment of allowing the both of you to come down from the high, he slumped back onto his arms, head rolling to the side so he could open his eyes and look at the mess he made of you.

"Oh, Love, I'm sorry about all that. Let me just..." Paul took another deep breath before rolling himself off the bed, wandering on wobbly legs towards the connected bathroom. You could hear the faucet running for a moment as you stared directly up at the ceiling, beginning to wake your body up with a little wiggle your toes.

That was, without any doubt, the best sex you'd had in your life. And as Paul returned to you, two damp cloths in-hand, you figured the intimacy was over; that you'd clean yourself up and be kicked out of the room.

But when he took a seat at the foot of the bed again, and he reached up to your tummy to wipe his ejaculation off your skin, you found yourself falling into another daze.

The cloth was warm, and Paul took his time sliding it over you to clean you up, not a single word coming from his mouth. When he felt he cleaned your stomach well enough, he reached for the other cloth, wiping the sweat gingerly off your neck, and chest.

Every move was calculated, and even when he moved to wipe up the mess between your legs, he was careful of how sensitive you were, free hand caressing your thigh while he remained largely focused on cleaning you up.

You felt the assault of tears burning your eyes again as you watched Paul tend to you, and when he looked up to your face and realized your expression, his own fell to one of worry.

"... you okay?"

You nodded your head weakly, that was until you felt him squeeze your leg again. Your bottom lip began to tremble, and your hands came up to your face as you sobbed into your palms.

"Hey, hey, Darling, what's the matter?"

Paul even sounded worried, climbing up the mattress to be closer to you. You curled up into a little ball on your side, and Paul put his hand on your arm, rubbing it up and down to comfort you.

"I... I..." you didn't want to tell Paul necessarily what you were feeling, because then that would have meant telling him you enjoyed him a little too much. More than you thought was maybe appropriate.

"Please talk to me, tell me what I can do to make this all better," he begged, and you took a while to respond to him.

"Hold me," you whimpered, and Paul, without another second passing, swept you up in his arms, cradling you as you sat in his naked lap. His right arm circled your back as his left coaxed your head onto his shoulder before he began stroking your hair.

Your arms lazily circled around him as you cried into his shoulder, and Paul pressed his lips into a line, tears of his own threatening to fall.

"Did hurt you? Did I do something wrong, Love?"

"Please don't think that," you choked back. "You did everything so right. And that's the problem."

Paul's eyebrows, which were knit together in frustration and confusion, began to relax at the realization of your words. You both knew you were going to have to elaborate a little more at one point, but Paul didn't pry. He just continued to stroke your hair and rock you, soothing you of your negative emotions.

You pulled your head away from the crook of his neck eventually, and you looked Paul in his sweet, doe eyes. "You're so kind. Too kind," you sniffled. "Half of me wants to actually listen to the words you said, but it hurts too much. After what he did to me..."

You thought back to your ex for a moment. That slimy, cheating bastard.

"I can't even pretend to believe someone would love me like that again, because he stripped me of all that trust."

Paul seemed a little hurt at your words, taking a moment to decide what he was going to say next.

"... You don't have to believe it now, but I know everything I said to you was the truth."

You felt your bottom lip quiver again, and he pulled his hand from the back of your head to cup your face.

"Everything. Even when you asked me not to leave. I can't be certain you were being serious about that, but I want you to know that I'm serious. I won't leave you if you don't want me to."

You couldn't help but tilt your head into his touch as your red eyes drifted closed. He placed a kiss on your temple, mumbling into your skin, "please believe me when I say I did have some doubts about all of this. But having you here, in my arms right now... I have never felt so sure about anything in my life. I'm never going to let anything happen to you ever again."

"But how can I be so sure?" Your question was barely above a whisper, and Paul held you tighter, and closer.

"You've occupied a special place in my heart for a long while, now. If anything were to try and hurt you, and I'm there to protect you, I'd be doing everything in my power to keep you safe."

You could feel Paul turn your head towards him, and you opened your eyes.

"I know our last relationships didn't end well. I know we're still hurting from the past... But you make me so happy. Like I have something worth living for, and can think about the future without wanting to look back at the pain I'm wanting to desperately leave behind."

You had more emotions stirring in your heart again, but they were ones that made you feel fuzzy inside.

"... Would it be so wrong of me to tell you I feel the same way about you?" You asked him carefully. You couldn't believe how poetic he could be just talking to you. He had all the right words to say at any given time.

"Absolutely not," he replied easily, one of the corners of his mouth twitching at the relief that the feeling was, in fact, mutual.

You reached up to cup his face, thumb drifting against his beard as he leaned in to kiss your mouth. And you let him. It wasn't to initiate anything, only to project affection unto you.

He pulled away after a moment, breathing a quiet "Please, Darling, stay with me, tonight."

You smiled sadly at his request, but you shook your head a little. "What about Rich? He's gonna find out everything." That was another nail in the coffin, Paul decided, he needed to pry out.

"Well, he's just going to have to deal with the fact that I need you," he responded matter-of-factly, and your heart ached at that.

"I don't think you have any idea just how long I've restrained myself from talking to you, let alone flirt or try anything with you. I used to care so much about what Ringo thought, but all that matters now is you."

Paul removed his hand from your cheek to caress yours holding his own face. He pulled your hand off so he could kiss your fingertips, smiling just a little to try and encourage one on your own face.

"It's just us now. No one else. Okay, my Love?"

All you could seem to do was nod your head, but that appeared to be enough for him. He gave you one more peck and a little hand squeeze before sighing. "Let's splash some water on your face and get us ready for bed, hm? I don't know about you, but the last ten minutes have been an absolute workout for me."

You blushed a little when Paul sent a wink your way, but you shifted off his lap and stood up, as did he. He took your hand in his again and guided you to the bathroom, and as you wet your face with the water under the faucet, he tossed the damp face cloths in the laundry bin next to the toilet.

His attention was back on you, and he tucked your hair back behind your ear, placing a kiss under your earlobe. You smiled a little at the gesture as you watched him through the mirror, turning the faucet off and dabbing your face dry with the towel on the counter. Paul settled another kiss at the crook of your neck, and then one on your shoulder.

"You feel any better?" He asked lowly, his words vibrating against your skin. You held back a chuckle by biting your bottom lip, setting the towel back down next to the sink.

"A little, yeah."

"As long as the answer isn't no, I can live with that." He smiled at your reflection, arms wrapping around your body as he kissed your shoulder one more time. You placed your hands overtop his, which were planted on your hips.

"C'mon, now," he whispered, one of his hands unraveling rom your body to drift to the small of your back and leading you back out into the bedroom. He left you briefly to pop the window open a little, and you climbed in under the covers, him following suit just a few seconds after.

You rolled to your side to look at Paul, and he did the same, propping up on his elbow and dropping his head in his hand, other arm reaching out so he could cup your face again. He looked so happy, having you so close to him. It was such a contrast to how you found him earlier that night, and the difference made you feel rather glad you were still awake at such a late hour.

"Thank you for everything tonight," he offered gently. "The drinks we shared, the dancing, the intimacy, for letting me confess everything to you, for staying... thank you for being you."

"Aww, why can't I say anything that romantic and poetic to you?" You whined a little, and Paul laughed gently, his hand drifting down to squeeze your arm lovingly.

"Y'know, there will be so much time in the future for you to woo me."

"If I can learn to be as quick on my feet as you, perhaps," you argued back playfully, shifting forward a little so you could curl up into Paul's chest. His hand dropped to your spine so he could pull you in a little closer, thumb rubbing gently against your skin.

"You'll get there, Lovely. Sweet dreams." You hummed a little as your eyes fell shut, the feeling of Paul's thumb caressing you, and the sound of the trees rustling in the wind outside, as well as the rise and fall of Paul's chest had you lulling to sleep in no time. He, on the other hand, remained awake for a long while, holding you close to him as if it were his only purpose in life.

He wasn't worried about anything anymore; not even about whether Ringo would find out about the both of you before either of you planned... Despite leaving the evidence of two alcohol glasses still sitting pretty on the coffee table in the den for him to find first thing that next morning.

Paul eventually fell asleep as well, arms enveloping you from the cool night air seeping in from the window leading outside. His heart was feeling fuller than it ever had before, and it was all because of you.

______________________________________

A/A/N: I hope this lived up to your expectations, I haven't written anything NSFW in YEARS, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Don't forget to like and comment, I love reading the comments on these :')

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[sansaorgana]

Hi! Can you write a Buck Cleven x female reader where they met and fell in love while he's in England and on one of the missions she's told they think his plane went down and she's really upset but it turns out they just got separated from the rest of the group and she just runs to him as soon as he gets out of the plane? Angst and then fluff?

I loved your other Buck fic!

thank you so much, sweetheart 🍭 this time I've read the request like 10 times before starting to write to make sure I haven't misread anything lol 🤣

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

"You're gonna come back to me, baby, am I right?" you pressed your forehead to Buck's and you closed your eyes to inhale his scent and memorize it. Your fingers played with the hem of his jacket as you were pulling him closer and closer.

"Always," he answered in that deep voice of his that usually made you dizzy.

"That's a promise that a gentleman cannot break," you giggled as you opened your eyes but his expression was as serious as ever. He only smiled gently and it made your heart skip a beat. "What's wrong?" you asked.

"You're pretty, you know that?" Buck raised his hand to fix a reckless hairstrand and get it off of your cheek.

"Yes, sir," you nodded. His seriousness was contagious. It was almost as if he had a bad feeling about the upcoming mission but he didn't want to say it out loud. "Go," you leaned in to kiss his cheek and patted his shoulder. "Go, don't be late."

Buck saluted you and went outside as you followed him. You watched him running up to his boys and getting on the plane. You have watched that many times before but this time it really felt different.

"Everything alright, miss?" Colonel Harding furrowed his brow at the sight of your face.

"I'm fine, Colonel," you took a deep breath in to stop your tears from falling.

"Go, busy yourself with something," he nodded.

"Colonel…" you grabbed his sleeve desperately and very unprofessionally. He looked a little surprised but not angry with you at all. "Please, let me know about him… If something happens… I want to know first."

"That would be against the procedures, miss," he explained and you clenched your fingers even harder.

"You see, I'm going crazy here every time he's up there," you tried to explain.

"We're all going crazy, miss," he was a stubborn man. You gave up and saluted before leaving to find yourself something to do.

You were assigned to copy some official papers in Colonel's office but you were more and more frustrated with each given moment. You spent hours by that typewriter and haven't managed to copy one single document. You kept on doing typos and stupid mistakes that forced you to start all over again.

Colonel Harding walked in nervously all of a sudden and you could see that something had been not right but he was excellent at hiding it.

"Colonel," you greeted him.

"What are you still doing here?!" he snapped.

"I'm copying documents."

"Still?"

"I'm stuck on the first one, sir," you confessed as your bottom lip trembled. "I… I'm sorry, I can't focus."

"Get out of here," he ordered and you nodded before getting up as fast as possible and trying to clean up the desk a little. "Go!"

"Yes, sir," you whispered and left in a hurry. Before you closed the door, you could see that he was reaching for a phone. You took a look at your watch and your heart skipped a beat when you realized that Buck had to be above Germany for some time now.

"You're still here?" Colonel's much softer voice made you turn around and face him.

"I'm sorry, sir, I can't seem to focus on anything today…"

"Here, come here," he put his hand on your arm and guided you back inside before gently helping you to sit down. "There's something I must tell you. I shouldn't but…"

"What is it?" your eyes widened and your heart started to pound in your chest as your hands got sweaty.

"Buck's plane went down. There were no parachutes... we're not sure. We lost him."

His voice was firm and loud but to you it sounded like you were sitting behind a glass as the time slowed down.

"N-No…" you shook your head. "No, this can't be, no… Colonel, you see, he's made me a promise. Gentlemen don't break their promises," you kept shaking your head like a maniac.

He didn't say anything and gave you a while to cry and try to catch a breath. You didn't even know what to feel at that moment, what to think. Your body started to tremble and there was a stinging pain inside your chest but your head was empty. You could only remember the taste of his warm lips on yours, the feel of his leather jacket under your fingertips, the way his hair would tickle your forehead when you kissed, the smell of his aftershave and the depth of his voice. And then you realized that you would never ever experience any of that again…

You stood up immediately and ran out of Colonel's office, straight to the bathroom. You needed a splash of cold water and to stand in front of the mirror, staring at your smudged make up as your hands clutched on the sink.

"The boys are back!" you heard someone shouting after a long while but you didn't even flinch. There was no point to go outside. No point of watching every single one of the boys who had survived and not finding your Buck amongst them. No point of seeing with your own eyes that there was a plane missing on that field.

You sobbed and cried as your hand reached underneath your blouse to find a small chain with Buck's ring hanging from it. He gave it to you a few weeks back when you became more serious. You kept it safe for him every day and kept it warm with your body. The ring was warm now, too, as you played with it. And it was a very physical reminder of the man you loved. Of the man who would not come back to you…

It was loud outside for an hour or so; everyone was busy with the boys coming back. They had to rest, get a proper meal, make reports and the planes needed to be fixed. You kept sitting on the cold bathroom floor with your head hid in your hands. You didn't have any tears left for quite a long time now but you still had troubles breathing and standing still without feeling dizzy. Your body kept shaking uncontrollably as well.

"Buck's back!" someone shouted and at first you didn't even react to that. You thought that your brain made that up. But then someone shouted it again and again and you were sure that it had to be some sort of mishearing. You just wanted to hear this, right? Running outside, looking for him, it would make a fool of you... but who cared… You were desperate.

You pushed the bathroom door open as loud as possible and you ran outside. People you passed on the corridor looked at you like you were crazy. Your hair was a mess, your makeup was all over your face and a few buttons of your blouse were undone with a ring on a small chain hanging from your chest.

Cold outside air made you catch your breath finally as you looked up. Indeed, one of the planes was just preparing to land. Its engines were damaged and it looked poorly but it was there.

"Colonel!" you ran up to Colonel Harding who observed the landing. He looked at you with pity in his eyes. "Is that right? Is he…?"

"It's his plane," he answered. "That's all we know. Maybe they got lost somewehere. We still know nothing, we lost connection with Buck some time ago."

"And now? He's not saying anything through the radio?" you kept asking.

"The connection's been lost, miss," Colonel was slowly trying to explain. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched men jumping out of the plane.

And then you spotted him. You'd spot that golden shade of hair everywhere.

"Buck!!!" you screamed and started running towards him. You had quite a big distance to make but you didn't even feel tired. It felt like flying more than running.

He smiled at the sight of you and despite being exhausted, he started running, too.

"Baby!" he greeted you in the middle as he lifted you up and spinned you around.

"Buck!" you laughed and cupped his face. "Oh, Buck!"

"You look like hell, baby," he chuckled.

"Well, you've given me the worst time of my life, you arse!" you pushed his shoulder. "Where have you been? They told me you were dead!"

"I'm sorry," he leaned in to give you a hungry, loving kiss. You heard some men cheering in the distance but you didn't care at all. You were just happy to have Buck back in your arms. You kissed him back, getting lost in the salty taste of sweat and blood. You tangled your hands in his hair and pulled on it gently, like you were checking if he was real.

"How could you do that to me?!" you sniffed the tears back and he pressed his forehead to yours.

"Hey, hey, shh, hey…" he helped you to calm down and catch a breath again as he held your hands to squeeze them reassuringly. "Always, remember? Always."

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[ravenstargames]

✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #6 | 10.03.23

And another month has gone by! 💜 For this one, you'll have to excuse my lack of eloquency, but this weekend has been really hectic for me personally, so my brain is struggling a bit to keep up :')

We are very close to receive our final grades for our master, but we are anticipating nothing but good (or at least not bad) news! With that being said, the team has picked up the pace again and we are feeling really good about it. Everyone is really excited to work work and work, so let's jump into it, shall we?

And what better way to start this devlog than with our handsome, our stupid, our magnificent Lord Amon, Golden Dragon of Dagalis? 🌟

As you can see, we have started working on the demo CGs and we are beyond excited! Our plan is to finish Amon's CG and snatch a few screenshots of the game to finally, FINALLY open our itch.io page! We don't want to spoil too much of the CGs but we still want to share a decent amount of stuff in our devlogs, so we'll see how we manage, hehe. We hope you like Lord Amon in this CG so far as much as we do, because Raquel is as per usual doing an impeccable job with our local himbgod! 💜

<<The voidbound, creatures born from the Midnight Tower's chest. Intelligent to a degree, they protect the Beyond —the tower's domain— from any trespasser. >>

This month we have started the concept art stage of our signature creature, the voidbound, and boooy is it looking good so far! Again, we don't want to spoil too much because we want you all to be surprised and spooked (hopefully!) when you play the demo and meet these little guys🖤.

I'm so glad Astro finally had a chance to put his creature design skills to use, because he's honestly fantastic at creating monsters and giving them just the right vibe. Consider yourself about to be scared or seduced if you are like me!

This month we finished our jugdment chamber! 💜 Aside from a few dust and smoke effects and maybe some small corrections along the way, this is another finished background for LiL's demo! There's a feeew more to go but with a little organization and plenty of force of will, I think we'll be able to tackle them all. Now that the first demo has less backgrounds, it's a fairer amount of work.

We also have had Kayden work on special "mini CGs" that will add to the immersion in certain scenes, but again, we don't want to spoil the whole demo content!

Currently, the demo script is sitting at 42k words, every option included. I'm hoping I can finish corrections either today or tomorrow and send the script over to Allie, our mighty editor! I already finished writing a breakdown of the characters and demo story for them to read, but I want to send both things at the same time. I know the writing is taking more time than we initially planned —in our first devlog if I remember correctly, I said I was already coding it, and I was— but it's for the benefit of the game. I don't want our demo script to be mediocre or to just be "good enough". I want to be proud of what I've written and I want my team and I to be able to be honest about this kind of stuff with the people that are looking forward to play our game 💜.

This month has been good overall. It has been difficult for me in personal matters, so I hope you forgive me for the usual typos or grammatical oopsies. This devlog was meant to be posted last night (GMT+2) but I was exhausted and didn't want to rush it :').

During October we are hoping we can work on as many art assets as we can, and if the script gets corrected and approved, maybe I can begin coding it very very soon!

As always, thank you so much for supporting us, for being here, and for looking forward to our demo! 💜 We hope we are living up to the expectations!

[chibisketches]

So turns out I have a stim... that I have been telling myself off over for literally decades.

I was Today Years Old when I realized that my deeply personally-embarrassing "vigorously shake the bad bad intrusive thoughts out of the head!" impulse that I sometimes get very late at night, (when I'm very tired and my brain decides to start acting like a chihuahua on amphetamines) ...was just regular ol' autistic stimming wearing a different hat.

Mind you, shaking my head really hard to 'dislodge' distressing brain weasels was just the first thing my brain suggested to deal with the disregulated feeling of Overtired Brain when I was a kid, and since it actually helped (for unrelated reasons... but still) that somehow stuck as the default 'solution' to the problem.

Turns out just about any very-energetic movement works the same way, though.I tried fast-kicking my feet up and down. Icky feeling was quickly gone, brain promptly chilled out. Tried jiggling my shoulders good and hard. Same result.

Part of me wonders if this also relates to the noticeable shuddering I get through my back and shoulders when I'm feeling really worked up about something... Like maybe my body is frantically mashing the Emergency Overflow Emotional Release Button, trying to just MAKE me shake away the yuck, in an attempt to self-reglate. I've never had it happen when I'm *not* feeling overwhelmed, so that... feels distinctly plausible.

The thing thats currently making me crazy about all this is that I have been mentally castigating myself over this stupid tired-brain impulse for *YEARS* - only to abruptly put 2 and 2 together, completely at random, while playing an unrelated mobile game at ass-o'clock while winding down for bed. (In keeping with the ADHD that I ALSO have, I then promptly abandoned said winding down and spent an hour writing this post instead.)

I honestly didn't even think I *had* any physical stims before tonight, and now I'm wondering what other random personal quirk that I don't think twice about doing, is just this same fucking thing happening elsewhere in my body.

And... I kind of feel like this shouldn't have been able to sneak up on me the way it did, either. Like, I read up on neurodivergence pretty extensively even before I got diagnosed, so I'd understand what I was dealing with. I knew what stims *are*, but just shrugged and went "huh... well, guess that's not one of my symptoms :)" because I didn't see anything on the lists of common ones that sounded like me. But then: SURPRISE! Turns out I do at least one all the goddamn time. I just didn't recognize this for what it was because I wasn't diagnosed until adulthood and because I'd been doing this same thing since I was old enough to stay up late and get overtired in the first place. In my mind it wasn't a symptom or a coping mechanism. It was just a thing I did, even though I was mortified by doing it.

Most of all, though, I'm once again wishing I had fucking known that I had AuDHD when I was growing up, instead of just thinking that I, personally, was a mess. I would've been a lot less harsh on myself, and I could've figured so much of this stuff out decades ago. Instead here I am, eying 40 in the distance, and just now figuring out so many basic bits of the what why and how of my brain. It feels like realizing you've been trying to swim with weights tied to your ankles all this time, wondering why you always seem to have so much trouble staying afloat...

[Standard "This was written very late at night by a very tired person on the internet who has 'Can't Regulate Focus For Shit' disease, so if it's rambly or full of typos, kindly pretend that it isn't" disclaimer]

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

You just said it makes you happy when people take the time to shoot you a message and I’m usually very VERY painfully shy but here I go anyways:

I love every single thing you write, like literally everything. I don’t know how you get the words to cooperate with you but I’m very jealous haha, let us in on the secrets👀

And also I really like reading your personal updates throughout the day, most of the time I just sit there and think to myself “yup, we’re both going through it right now”

Take care! Be good to yourself! <3

it does indeed make me very happy!!!! i love love love interacting with people like that and when people feel the need to tell me they like something i did i am like !!!!!!!!! ?!?!?!?!? <3333333 (i am sometimes The Worst and can't bring myself to respond in a timely manner but uhhhh sorry i've been Lost In The Sauce i guess i am not trying to be rude)

you are so very sweet <33333 i cannot for the life of me learn how to take a compliment because i see so many things i want to fix when i reread my stuff (and i constantly log onto the archive and futz with it lol, changing lil things i think do not flow well or fix actual typos and grammar mistakes that i somehow did not see before) but i am so very grateful for your kind words!!! <3 the Secret is i am Insane so i fuss with my stuff a lot. i proofread like seven times and Agonise over word choices and still miss shit lol. i want even the silliest thing i write (such as stupid sex pollen trope lol) to be like? well executed if that makes sense. i want the dumbest premise and the best execution, i live for that shit ahahahah awwww ! sorry you're going through it as well!! in our defence mercury was retrograde AND there was an eclipse on the 5th, i think that's over now tho ahahhaha <3 wish you a lovely day, sweet anon <333333

[chubbyskater]

Happy Victuuri Summer Loving @lightningcatters :)

Propmt 1: Yuuri's summer wordrobe drives Victor mad.

Prompt 2: Victor will use any excuse to have his nips out - especially summer. It's not immediately apparent whether it's for Yuuri's benefit, hindrance, or pure coincidence.

Prompt 3: Victuuri use the summer holidays (i.e. the summer part of the off-season) to attempt Proper Normal Couple Dates. These dated are not necessarily successes :3

Edit: O yes, I knew sth was missed and that was tagging @victuurisummerloving /o\

[bill-y]

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐄

Peeta Mellark x male reader

We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family.

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part two: Click here, bomburino tortilla pony horse.

Part three: You're here, my guy.

Part four: Click here, amigo

Wattpad acc: L0calxDumbass

It didn't take long before I came home, my mother and brother was already dressed, and I was right, Kunal has been crying.

He immediately lightened up when he saw the bread, pushing the sleeves of my first reaping outfit (which was now his) back in order to munch on it.

"Don't worry, you only have your name once in the pile, you're safe," I reassured him, as I've done many times before.

I smiled, patting his head. My mother glanced at me, but I pretended to not notice. It's been long since we've talked, the last time was a disagreement, a petty one at that. About two years or so?

I honestly surpised myself, how can I go without talking to her for so long. . .?

Another trait my father passed on to me was a short temper, though I never lose my head and scream, but something about her words made me yell. Her face was full of shock when I did that, almost as if I've betrayed her.

"Don't be stupid like your father!" She told me.

My father isn't a stupid man, he was smart. Lady luck just wasn't on his side that day.

I took a bath, scrubbing the dirt and soot off myself. When I saw my clothing my heart stopped. It was my Father's.

It was simple, just as he liked. A white button up tunic, the hems made of elegant gold lace. The pants were loose, with garters securing on the hip and the hems, he never liked tight clothing, just like me.

My eyes went towards my mother, who simply nodded, "After you get dressed, sit down, won't you? Let me fix your hair," she said.

My mouth opened to protest, only to shut itself when she whispered a small, "please," My eyes softened, her voice sounded so guilty, she regretted her words, just as I did. She knew I could get chosen.

But I'm a coward, I don't like apologizing, something I inherited from her.

I nodded, and got dressed before I sat down, just as she told me. She began to braid tiny sections of my hair. I've never been good at it, really, It would always look messy when I did it. So I just looked messy everyday.

But her hands can do magic, it was like she was weaving silk, her hands full of grace and utmost care as she intertwined every strand of hair. I could feel her hand shake a little, as if scared with one wrong touch, I'd shatter like glass.

She used to sew clothing, make various artworks with whatever was in the house. Her hand was naturally delicate, soft to anything she makes contact with.

I bit my lip, none of us wanted to say it. We we're both thinking the same thing, though.

I never really liked cutting my hair, always kept it atleast neck length at best. I don't think short hair suits me at all, though it does get in the way while hunting from time to time.

Once she finished, without a word she pressed her chapped lips onto my forehead, she then walked away, leaving me with a pit of guilt in my stomach.

Such simple words, why can't I just say it?

I sighed, fixing my tunic and tucking it in, the garter snapping back, making me wince a little. It was stupid of me to let go.

I took a deep breath in, mustering all the courage I had to walk towards my brother, who has devoured the entire loaf. "Good?" I asked.

He nodded, a smile on his face, the crumbs falling down. I chuckled, wiping his mouth with my hand.

"You're like a bird, aren't you, little mocking jay?" I said, patting his head again.

He hummed, nodding aggressively, his hair bouncing up and down. I snickered, holding his head still with both my hands. I squished his cheeks together, making his lips form into a duck beak-shape. "Hey, Y/n,"

I rose my brows, humming. "I won't get chosen, won't I?" he asked. I sniffed, shaking my head as I linked our foreheads. "No, no you wont, Nal," I said. "If they call you, I won't let you go, alright?"

"You promise?"

"Of course,"

Soon it hit one in the afternoon, it was mandatory to attend this "festival", unless you're at death's door, that is. I found myself beside Gale, who patted my shoulder for reassurance.

Maybe it was obvious I'm stressed, tense. I'm not worried about myself, I'm more worried of them, especially Kunal. He's only twelve, yet he can still get chosen.

Some kind of festival this is.

I clenched my fists tighter, palms started to go white as I also clenched my jaw.

On the temporary stage stationed in front of the justice building was a podium, three chairs and two large bowls. The district is divided into two sections, jumbled across those two glass bowls, waiting to be picked up.

Twenty of them contained 'Y/n Greyback', one of them contained 'Kunal Greyback'.

There were also bright banners hung up, though I'm sure it was just there to taunt us, it sure worked for me. Everytime I look at it I start feel sick, hatred bubbling in my stomach.

The feeling of claustrophobia began to settle in as people piled into the square, the late comers having to just watch from a monitor instead.

"You alright?" Gale asked, nudging me. I gulped, sighing, "Course, I just —" I turned back, looking at my brother. "Worry of him,"

He gave me a sympathetic look, "He only has one entry, I'm sure he won't be picked," He said. Something I've been saying for such a long time, it didn't help settle my nerves.

"I know," I answered plainly.

We looked towards Katniss' place, beside her was Mardge, who gave me a curt smile and a wave. Out of politeness, I simply nodded back before turning back to the stage.

My hands grew colder each second, by two, when the mayor finally reached the stage, my hands were as cold as a corpse's.

Beside the mayor was Effie Trinket, District 12’s escort, fresh from the Capitol with her scary white grin, pinkish hair, and spring green suit. It looked quite ghastly.

Everyone murmured in worry, for whom was the empty third seat for?

The mayor stepped in front of the podium, beginning to tell the tale of Panem, how the twelve districts lost in the rebellion and now have to face punishment.

The Hunger games.

It was simple, each district would pick two "tributes" to this little game, and then they either kill like a hungry wolf or die like lost cattle.

I gulped, sweat forming on my forehead as I instinctively reached for the end of Gale's shirt. He held my hand, patting it a few times to let me know it would be alright.

He then began to read the victors in every hunger games. In the past seventy-four years, we have had exactly two.

Only one is still alive. Haymitch Abernathy, a paunchy, middle-aged man, who at this moment appears hollering something unintelligible, staggers onto the stage, and falls into the third chair.

To say he's drunk would be an understatement.

The crowd responds with its token applause, but he’s confused and tries to give Effie Trinket a big hug, which she barely manages to fend off.

The mayor looks distressed. Since all of this is being televised, right now District 12 is the laughingstock of Panem, and he knows it. He quickly tries to pull the attention back to the reaping by introducing Effie Trinket.

Bright and bubbly as ever, she began to talk. I could feel my blood boiling upon hearing her obnoxious, Capitol accent. I tuned her out, gulping as my hands somehow grew even colder.

Please don't let it be my brother, anyone but him.

"Let's have the first pick, shall we?" She said, her voice at the end of the sentence practically sky rocketing up. She pulled a piece of paper from one of the Glass bowls.

My heart pounded, as if trying to escape my chest. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths in.

"Kunal Greyback,"

My heart stopped. Why couldn't it have been me? I had twenty, TWENTY entries.

I watched as my brother walked past me, his lip quivering, eyes glossy. Oh sweet, sweet Kunal, as delicate as a Lotus.

Kunal, the boy who gathers flowers every morning just for me.

Kunal, the boy who loves pulling on my braids.

Kunal, my dear innocent brother. Afraid of his own shadow.

I felt my own body move, launching myself forward. Gale called for my name, but I didn't care, no. I needed to get to my brother, I made a promise.

"NAL! NAL! NO!" I yelled, desperation evident in my voice as I pushed through the other people. "Y/n!" He screamed back.

Most of then gave me and my brother looks of sympathy, some gossiped. "Greyback," they'd whisper. "Another one bites the dust," they'd continue.

The peace keepers pushed me back, preventing me from reaching my brother.

No, not like this. He's still so young, he still wants to gather lilys by the front of our house, he still wants to create flower crowns for me to wear.

He still wants to breath, to live.

The mayor looked at me, recignizing me almost immediately. He didn't know me, no. Rather, he knew my father, the man he put under the execution block.

Oh mother, I'm sorry it had to be this way. It seems another one of your family members will die at the hands of the Capitol.

"I volunteer!" I gasped, gulping down nothing. My mouth was dry.

"I volunteer as a tribute!"

Word count: 1.6k

Tags:

@nin3s

:v

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okayyyy here comes the next chapter ! Number .... lemme look. Okay, number six! 🥳🥳🥳

And yes, my thoughts as usual will be a messy, very Everlark-biased and full of typos. Letsss gooooo 🥰🥰🥰

Is this the first time Katniss and Peeta have been to their floor or is this just the most opportune time to explain and introduce the Tribute Center living quarters?

Also why are they called tributes anyway? That word suddenly seems weird to me after nine years... 🤔🤔🤔

“I've ridden the elevator a couple of times in the Justice Building back in District 12. Once to receive the medal for my father's death and then yesterday to say my final goodbyes to my friends and family” .... 😶😶 so only good memories and connotations to elevators then, huh?

“The walls of this elevator are made of crystal so that you can watch the people on the ground floor shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air.” My mind is just imagining the elevator in Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone’s Spider-Man movies 🤗.

“It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ask Effie Trinket if we can ride it again, but somehow that seems childish” this is so cute and innocent omg. Katniss, like I said in my last chapter blog, still has some childlike innocence left in her 🥺🥺🥺. I’m a sad.

Also excuse the unnecessary extra gif use but 🤭🤭🤭

Oh wow, so Haymitch hasn’t been around since they were on the train? No wonder neither Katniss nor Peeta fled they could trust him for basically the entirety of the first book. 😐😐😐

You know it’s bad when Effie being around feels like a blessing to Katniss. Girl has more restraint than me, I’d have ripped off this woman’s janky wig by now without remorse. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

Effie acts like they’re her purebred show dogs. I know I know how is this news, that’s a blatant fact. The movies really softened her up tho for the general audience. And I bleed the movies and books together more than I should 😔😔😔

Well at least she’s made herself useful, trying to get Everlark sponsors ... even if it’s ultimately to benefit herself above anyone else .... 😤

Effie calling Twelve barbaric while she’s preparing them for the slaughter isn’t even ironic it’s like literally just brainless. Johanna probably had the nickname floating around for a lot of people before she officially knighted Katniss with it 😭

“Everyone has their reservations, naturally. You being from the coal district.” Is this how they refer to Twelve? So basically if a district makes a better item, it’s a more worthy one in the Capitol’s eyes? So essentially, if District Eight made like diamonds or pearls or whatever then it would be more worthy? So are the districts assigned their numbers (one, two, three, four, etc) based on their order of importance to the Capitol’s lifestyle? I always thought it was based on their distance in relation to the Capitol? Okay so I didn’t really pay much attention to these facts previously when I read these books ok look away I’m an idiot

Omg 😭😭😭😭 Effie is such an idiot. But the coal turns to pearls thing is my favorite line from her only because it serves as the cutest inside joke when Peeta makes a callback to it in Catching Fire and Finnick is just like “why are these two teenagers so stupid who did I ally with? 🥵😳🥵😳🥵”

“I wonder if the people she's been plugging us to all day either know or care.” After reading Songbirds and Snakes, I’m sure they don’t have a clue, boo. 😑😑😑😑 although not everyone was an idiot back then ... maybe Snow is putting lead in the drinking water?

“But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary.” I know she’s trying to help and I know we say this kind of thing today, but considering this is two kids she’s well aware will be heading into a death match this is just bad wording I know surprise surprise 🙄🙄🙄😬😬😬😬

“Although lacking in many departments, Effie Trinket has a certain determination I have to admire.” Katniss really does see the best in people. What’s sad, y’all, is I think Katniss unconsciously really tries to like people and that’s why she has her guard up so high. Because the softer you are, the easier people will step all over you. Terrible phrasing here, Samantha, I’m so sorry to any of my readers ... okay now that sounded arrogant, implying I have readers 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤣😅🤣😅🤣😅

“My quarters are larger than our entire house back home.” Omg? I mean, yes, I knew this already obviously no duh but like also. Just the fact that three people live in a space smaller than a bedroom and bathroom arena is saddy sad sad. Also do they have indoor plumbing in the Seam or is their backyards just full of—okay, I’ll see myself out. 😶🤭😅🙃

“The shower alone has a panel with more than a hundred options you can choose regulating water temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges.” I’m just imagining a Spongebob scene ngl.

I’m sorry there’s so many gifs this time around it’s probably taking us out of the reading headspace I’ll never do it again 😩😩😩😩 I talk like I have a class of people listening to me 🤭🤭🤭

“Instead of struggling with the knots in my wet hair, I merely place my hand on a box that sends a current through my scalp, untangling, parting, and drying my hair almost instantly” I need this someone invent this NOW my brush is yanking out my hair 😔😩

“I program the closet for an outfit to my taste.” ‘Yes, Alexa, I’d like a hunting jacket, some boots and a green shirt. Yes, it can be brown.’

“You need only whisper a type of food from a gigantic menu into a mouthpiece and it appears, hot and steamy, before you in less than a minute.” I like this idea because it means that Peeta could order hot choccy to comfort Katniss after her nightmares in Catching Fire from the comfort of her their own bed. 🤗🤗🤗 also I want this for myself. The bad people are giving my greedy self ideas look away everyone 😬

“I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door.” 🤢🤢🤢🤢 Of everything you could have chosen, child, this is what you decided on? Someone help my girl and her rotten tastebuds now.

“Effie's calling me to dinner. Good. I'm starving.” Baby, you were just eating. She’s so nutritionally messed up. 😔😔😔

Katniss trying wine 🥳🥳🥳 she’s so funny, trying to find a way to improve the taste 😅. She’ll make a good taste tester for her baker husband one day.

Hahahaha Katniss not liking the feeling and judging Haymitch for always being tipsy. Also this is sad because she ends up addicted to morphling later one which is far worse than a little wine.

I’m glad to know Baked Alaska survived the apocalypse 😅🥳

Katniss just constantly trying to decipher the recipe of every meal and how to recreate it reads cute on a surface level but it’s actually so tragic because everything to this girl is based around food. Like even more than is typically noticed. They really should have given a hint at this in the first movie. Good thing she marries a man who can always keep her full.

I’m just forever side-eyeing you, Gare Bear.

That’s Gary Ross for the confused kids in the back.

Why does Katniss yelling mid-sentence, “oh! I know you!” add to her innocence? 🥺 it’s because she was overwhelmed by all the food and new luxuries she’d never even been able to imagine ... and also this is pre her first games so she’s still got some childhood left in her 😩😔

I wonder how Lavinia felt seeing Katniss volunteer and knowing she’d be her Avox? I wonder if she, like Cinna, somehow volunteered to be her Avox?

I mean ... talk about convenient placement that this specific girl was assigned to Katniss’ district—oh wait, y’all, I just caught myself. She’s from Twelve. She was assigned to Twelve’s tributes because she’s from there, duh. I’m such an airhead omg just call me Effie.

Don’t you actually dare.

“When I look back, the four adults are watching me like hawks.” Meanwhile, Peeta is just like 😬😬😬 eating his dinner.

Actually, ngl, this could be such a reach and it probably is but like maybe Peeta sensed a confrontation coming and, because of his implied upbringing, he naturally becomes silent or makes himself invisible when trouble starts looking like it’s gonna arise. 🥺🥺🥺 I don’t know why I say these things I’m just hurting my own feelings but ya know the drill. I thought it so I said it.

Why is Effie yelling at Katniss for saying she knows the Avox girl like omg overreaction much? And I know, the sky is blue 🙄🙄🙄 she’s prejudiced against basically everyone, I know, I know

Rip her wig off, Katty Deen 🤗🤗🤗

Oh I stupidly forgot that Avoxes are supposedly known by everyone to be traitors or criminals. So I suppose this isn’t Effie’s worst offense but I’m keeping a tally anyways

Katniss is blaming her stuttering on the wine but my girl just has social anxiety 😔😔😔

Peeta coming in with a save 😭😭😭 he’s already trying saving his girl 🤧

Alsoooo the unspoken friendship, the covering for the other and teaming up against the adults, is still riding high and going strong here 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 look away, y’all, the shipper comments are coming in strong

Also why is this the first real interaction with Peeta in this chapter yet? My baby needs more page-time 🤭🤭🤭

“Delly Cartwright is a pasty-faced, lumpy girl with yellowish hair who looks about as much like our server as a beetle does a butterfly.” Now why did Katniss just tear Delly to shreds for no reason at all 😭😭😭 this was a surprise assault on the poor girl 🙃🙃🙃🙃

“She may also be the friendliest person on the planet - she smiles constantly at everybody in school, even me.” Okay not to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... but to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... this description of poor, sweet Delly is actually indicative of Peeta’s character? Since Delly, we find out in Mockingjay, is Peeta’s childhood best friend, her personality being this sunny, kind, good-natured person tells us Peeta has always probably been somewhat like her and perhaps not as much like the other town kids Katniss implies to be stuck up or snooty. Maybe Katniss is just shady and deflects onto others 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️.

Also the fact that she gives this like ... mean description of Delly but saw Peeta as popular, even though surely Delly and Peeta spent time at school together, implies further that Katniss did indeed harbor a secret crush on Peeta even before the reaping. A very mild comparison of his on her though, of course 😅😅😅

“It must be the hair” “something about the eyes too” their piggybacking on the other’s comments really is just chiefs kiss 😘🤗🥰🤧 FYI I know the saying is chefs kiss but I made the typo once a long time ago and decided to add it forever to my brand 🤗🙃🥳

Also though this Everlark interaction is reminiscent of when two kids get caught by their teacher goofing off in class and covering for each other 🥰 only it’s a lot more deadly stakes

“A few of the other couples make a nice impression, but none of them can hold a candle to us.” She’s so modest 🤧🤧🤧 her narration here and during the Tribute Parade just has the vibes of ... well .... sorry in advance

Haymitch’s comment “Just the perfect touch of rebellion. Very nice” leads me to think he and Cinna and maybe Portia were always in cahoots about the rebellion even before Katniss and Peeta came along and well ... lit their match on fire 🥁🤗🤣🤭

Katniss is like “rebellion??? Rebellion where??? What’s that you old people speak of???” And yet, girlfriend goes out to the woods and hunts illegally every day of her life 🤣🤣🤣🤣.

“But when I remember the other couples, standing stiffly apart, never touching or acknowledging each other, as if their fellow tribute did not exist” too lazy too look it up but there’s a quote from Ballad about Lucy Gray and Jessup being distinguished by their visible friendship too that set them apart from the other tributes.

Either Suzanne thought of drawing a nice parallel showing what a failed Everlark attempt looks like, because I firmly stand by the fact that without their real feelings behind their act, even Katniss’ unconscious ones, they wouldn’t have pulled it off, or Suzzie just reused her own content. I prefer the former but I think it’s probably the latter 🤭🤭🤭

“Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk." I know Haymitch is being facetious here but this quote reminded me of the fact that the movies would have hit differently if they’d cast actual sixteen year olds in the roles.

“When we get to my door, he leans against the frame, not blocking my entrance exactly but insisting I pay attention to him.” This is such a flirty, high school boy pose, you cannot convince me otherwise 😭😭😭

Also I definitely feel like Peeta is getting more and more confident here because he’s oblivious to Katniss’ inner monologue as much as she is his actually we all are his sadly and he probably thinks she’s starting to like him 🤧🤧🤧

“So, Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here." 🤣 He honestly cracks me up idk why this line isn’t even special or that great. He’s just so ... subtly nosy / funny. Which brings me to that quote from Mockingjay where Katniss talks about his sense of humor because it’s one of the things she loves most about him 😭😭😭

But he’s like, “I can keep a secret, Katniss, tell me who that tongueless chick is to you 😬”

Katniss stop talking about debts, friends cover for the other all the time 🙄🙄 I know it’s in her character stop yelling at a fish for swimming that’s not a real phrase I know that too

Okay first of all, they’re about to share a secret 🥰🥰🥰🥰. My shipper goggles are on tight and obstructing my vision. I know this and am proud 😬🥳🤗

And secondly, “Maybe sharing a confidence will actually make him believe I see him as a friend.” Hey, butthead, you two are already friends. She doesn’t even recognize that the girl who constantly sits with her, talks to her, eats with her and trades with her is her friend either though, I’m shocked she calls Gale her friend

Does Peeta get to know Cinna too? I don’t think so but it’s mentioned now a couple times in this chapter alone that Peeta has interacted with Cinna. Katniss never interacts or has a conversation with Portia.... then again, is that even surprising? Katniss isn’t ... what you would call ... social. Hashtag relatable.

Awww, they’re communicating so effectively together 🥰😭🤧🥳

Also rooftops belong to Everlark only 😍😊😉 I mean, seriously, Katniss never goes up on a rooftop with anyone else. Besides Haymitch in the first movie but we ignore.

“Electricity in District 12 comes and goes, usually we only have it a few hours a day.” Earlier she said the Seam didn’t often have electricity, in particular, so either she’s not specifying her section of the district anymore or Suzanne is backtracking.

“But here there would be no shortage. Ever.” I’ve had two power outages recently so clearly the Capitol isn’t based on us currently today then 😐😐 I’m just joking ok

“I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might decide to jump right over the side?” .... boyfriend, where does your mind go sometimes? Peeta’s darker than we realize, y’all 🤭🤭🙃🙃

“He holds out his hand into seemingly empty space. There's a sharp zap and he jerks it back” between this and Catching Fire, Peeta is addicted to getting shocked by forcefields 🤧🤧🤧

“I wonder if we're supposed to be up here now, so late and alone.” If this was a romantic drama or comedy, that line would have meant something a lot more fun 😒😔😬😉😏

“On the other side of the dome, they've built a garden with flower beds and potted trees.” Is this meant to resemble Snow’s grandmother’s garden???? Like he had them put a garden there to like ... put a piece of his Grandma’am in the games? Idk this made zero sense it was a stupid thought

Two people in a garden at night, with wind chimes, sounds romantic in any other context. 🥺🥺

Ummm does everyone in the entire district know Katniss and her father used to hunt together?

Oh nevermind, Lavinia is not from District Twelve. My bad, guys. I should go up and edit my previous thoughts but that’s a lot of work. 😅😅😅

Katniss, stop being so hard on yourself. You and Gale were kids. 😣😣

Ummm, Katniss for a girl always complimenting Peeta’s storyteller, you’re pretty good at painting a picture yourself...

Peeta noticing she’s shivering 🥰🥺

He gives her ... his jacket 😭😭😭😭 such a romantic troupe Samantha, get over it there’s literally children dying

Oh wow, Lavinia was from the Capitol originally. Hmm, it is sus now that she got District Twelve this particular year.

But also 🤧🤧🤧 “he secures a button at my neck.”

His hands .... are .... often .... at her .... neck .... 😶😬 .... look away, y’all

Oh wow, Katniss is over here thinking, “who’d leave the Capitol if they were from here???” And Peeta’s like instantly, loudly, without hesitating, “well I would 🙋🏼‍♂️”

Hot take, y’all ready? Peeta was a bigger rebel than Katniss from the start. At least internally.

Awww, Peeta is so jealous 😭😭😭😭 and kind of nosy 🤭🤭🤭

Katniss : “me and Gale are not related” Peeta : “😬🙃😭😩😶”

“I'd set out to tell her I was sorry about dinner. [...] my apology runs much deeper. [...] I let the Capitol kill the boy and mutilate her without lifting a finger. Just like I was watching the Games.” I feel like this is actually a good comparison though, because of you grew up in a society where you have to watch kids die, your whole entire life you’ve watched it in a glorified television show, you would be really desensitized to it...

“You don't forget the face of the person who was your last hope.” Here she’s talking about Lavinia but it applies to Peeta too. Katniss was Lavinia��s last hope and she feels like she let her down but Peeta was her last hope once and he came through. And, as she said in chapter one, she’ll never forget him for it. And for other things too. Later on. 😏

Of course my last bullet point was focused on Everlark 🤣 is anyone surprised you shouldn’t be we all knew who this post was written by right? 😅

And once again, if too made through this marathon, congratulations 🥳🥳🥳🥳 maybe next chapter I’ll talk less not likely though so don’t count on it 😅

[misterbitches]

i think what bugs me the most about people being lazy and not wanting to read or pushing a narrative of something you didn't say or do onto you, then saying something about the method of delivery, and then getting their hackles raised at anything that pushes back (i do this too. like many times i overreact because i didnt read something right, or i don't think that maybe i don't need to be heard, or i take on a more combative tone even if someone agrees. so i need to de-escalate for myself as well and be aware....) esp on the basis of length and some grammar and syntax issues—not necessarily the content itself—is that i like....edit for a living.

i have a dumb BA and i have my MFA. i copy-edit on the side as a side-job and i am good at it. i am a literal video editor, a script editor, a scriptwriter, and artist. so like not only did i "train" in that, i have experience, and like.... im good at it. but that's my WORK like that's LITERALLY MY CAREER so when im on the internet i'm not trying to write a fucking thesis that's so intense and edited. i do that for my career and it's effort. this is me time, leisure time, im not being judged or graded and i don't need to put my whole back into something that is largely inconsequential. i'm typing from the top of the fucking dome and that's it man like there's a diff between a thing that takes me 5m to write and something i have to edit a trillion times on top of my learning disabilities and adhd. which isnt a fucking death sentence. adhd helps me be more creative, my LDs are what lead me to art, i'm intelligent and talented even if i hate myself and it's painful. idk how many times i can say this you know. someone said to me once "you're obviously not a native eng speaker" and fucking obviously i am but that wasnt the issue it was saying i can't construct sentences or whatever when im literally just stream of consciousness and it is just so invalidating. i dont like saying it but it's literally people calling you stupid for something you're not trying to heavily regulate because you ARE ALWAYS SELF-REGULATING.

honestly i get shocked at my typos or ways i word things if i re-read them but in my brain it just comes out that way. it doesnt always make sense either idk i try and say it. but i dont want to call it ableist it's just weird. fucking weird and it feels soooooo fucking bad bc i already know lmao im sorry man sometimes commas look like periods and i think im typing in the right tense or the right word but im not idk what to tell ya. u can edit it for me if u want

yesterday i couldnt focus at all like i was watching history (surprise) and had to keep rewinding because my brain started to trail off and i would stare at this box. or ill be thinking about something else the whole time. then i get anxious and try and concentrate and i cant. it's a lot of adrenaline buddy and our brains are like rubber or whatever ok im built different ;-;

other things adhd makes fun:

- when you receive your THC and it takes you hours to use it because your brain is trailing off. DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE TO WAIT FOR UR BRAIN TO STOP PROCRASTINATING TO HAVE FUN? dumbest thing ever esp since ppl w impulse issues <3 drugs cos we r sad every1 thinks we r STUPID

- when u literally just stare at the same page for like 10m. when it takes u all fucking day to watch 5 minutes of a stupid BL bc ur brain is like THIS THEN THIS THEN THIS THEN THIS AND WHAT IS THAT? THEN THIS THEN THIS THEN THIS esp for me as a FILMMAKEURRRR AN ARTISTE A PRETENTIOUS BITCH i cant turn it the fuck off

- WITHOUT INSURANCE MY MEDS ARE 400 DOLLARS SO IF YOU GIVE ME THAT MONEY, I WILL LISTEN TO YOU

this is something i've talked abotu a lot and ppl who know me know that i really struggle with this. maybe that's why i turned to art i dont know but i think there is a gap between people who are willing to read and people who just aren't and then dont bother. but i feel like you should sort of take the time to maybe understand a person may have diff communication styles. like i can understand people or try my best if they dont have a great grasp on english. we know what the fuck communication is. there's this one troll i know of who literally just types nonsense because he doesn't know what he's talking about, he's a dick, and he's not a native eng speaker. that's a time where i'm like i literally cannot with this person because i dont think he even tries lmao. i just ignore him bc he says dumb shit now so maybe if someone thinks that of me they should just move it righgt along ithink im just going to start being a dick and calling eveyrone ableist and start acting like the ~*~*~*snowflake~**~~*~* they dont like bc bitch if im sad we all sad now

i also find it IRONIC when non black ppl comment on a flow or whatever since u all love to use our words wrong bitch back off if u cant say nigga i take 0 writing advice from u

all this is to say i know it's not cos of my adhd and learning disorders since i can do my jobs efficiently. i think that......people are just upset when u critique something that has nothing to do with them as a person but they tied their identity to it so now we all have to suffer im sorry that you...idk don't care about the world? who knows, what do you want? lol

[rogerina-yee-haw]

Joe Mazzello - NSFW Alphabet

a/n: I'm dedicating it to @starfleet-wannabe💓 babes, you make my days better!!! ily!!!(also I promise you that those imagines abt Joe x Reader will see the light once...I promise you, Erin)

I can't insert the "Keep reading" link from the tumblr mobile app, cause I'm really dumb, so if you don't want to read it - just scroll down k thx

this was requested many times and I'm sorry, my dudes....this is really bad....

warnings: obviously smut lmao, typos (sorry I've read it too many times just to check on errors and I can't look at this text right now, and there are obviously still bunch of mistakes, sorry, fellas)

Joe if you ever see this I'm sorry I hope it never happens

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Joe is the softest human being ever (well, mostly). It doesn't matter whether the sex was romantic and tender or rough and passionate, the aftercare is always the same: he helps clean you up and then make you both tea, while you lie in bed, talking and just spending time with each other.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of their partners)

As it was considered on this website, Joe is an ass man. You can count the times his hands were off your bum; he always keeps his hand on your lower back, and then, if he's in the mood (and he's always in the mood) he starts caressing your butt through your clothes, grabbing and tapping it when he can. It's not like the ass is the only thing he admires - Joe loves all of you, every part of your body and soul. But your ass is just so squishy and soft, and he can't get enough of it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

If the sex is unprotected, he cums on your ass. Period.

D = Dirty Secret

Joe doesn't have dirty secrets. If he wants to try something, he'll tell you about it; there isn't something you two can't discuss.

E = Experience (How experienced are they?)

Joe is very experienced. He knows exactly what to do to make you scream his name in the bedroom.

F = Favourite Position

Doggy (unbelievable, right?). He also loves reverse cowgirl for obvious reasons. But it doesn't mean that you don't change positions while having sex. He loves seeing you on top, riding both of you into orgasm; he enjoys missionary and every other sex position, simply because he gets to try them all with you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Come on, it's Joe we're talking about here. Sex is sometimes filled with him telling you stupid jokes, and always it turns out to be just like he's having a stand up show, while you lie down naked under him. He may crack up some dad jokes during the most tense moments, like when you're on top of him, and you're gasping and moaning, "I'm cumming", he'd say breathlessly, "Hi, cumming, I'm Joe", and you'll just burst into crazy laugh, even though the joke is stupid and not funny.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn't like to be completely bare down there, so he just keeps it trimmed.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Joe is very romantic (we been knew). He just loves you so much that, even if the sex rough, he still wants and needs you to feel loved and comfortable. The man is so in love with you that he can't stop kissing and touching you, whispering how much he adores you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

It's a must, if he's away filming. You two like to get yourselves off while talking on the phone, breathing and moaning messily while telling each other the filthiest things. Joe is actually an expert in dirty talk.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Joe's got hella lots of kinks. He's most preferable ones are:

Daddy kink. Do you really think this man doesn't like to be called daddy? If you do, you're wrong. Seeing you twirling in ecstasy when "daddy" is the only thing you can weakly whimper makes him bust a nut right then and there.

Edging. He's an asshole sometimes, alright? Joe enjoys it when you desperately beg him to fuck you. He loves when you're being restrained all day, and you walk around frustrated and horny. Not to mention that the thought of fucking you hard later turns him on immediately. (You love all of it too, even though you don't admit it sometimes; you're also fond of the idea teasing Joe like this later).

Slight voyeurism, but he likes to watch himself fuck you. He's bought a huge mirror for the bedroom, so that you two could have sex in front of it. He loves to pound into you from behind, holding your hair, slapping your ass and saying the dirtiest shit, like, "Watch yourself being wrecked by my cock" or "Look how pretty you look, look at your pretty tits boucing like this cause I'm fucking you so hard"

Dirty talk (it's considered as a kink, right?). Come on, Joe is a master at this. He'd spill the filth at random places; like you two are doing grocery shopping and he comes to you holding a watermelon, leans in and whispers in your ear, "I wish I could bend you over this shopping cart and fuck you till you can't move". And you just stand there bewildered, while he continues his routine. Or when you're on some fancy event, he'd put his hand on your waist and say to you quietly, "You look so sexy like this with this red lipstick. Can't wait when these pretty lips are wrapped around my cock". And your eyes go wide as you choke on your drink, while everyone looks at you weirdly.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Um, anywhere? Joe's just turned on by you 24/7 (as well as you are by him), so he doesn't mind having sex with you in restrooms, closets, empty hallways, in his trailer, your childhood bedrooms... Once you were at the party and caught your friends having sex; no wonder that fifteen minutes later you and Joe were doing the same thing in the bathroom, of course, in front of the mirror. Sex in his car is a must too, especially when you're driving - he thinks you look really hot while doing so. One time you were almost caught doing it in the car by the police, and since then you can't stop giggling like two teenagers while remembering about it.

But Joe loves sex in your bedroom. He just feels like this is the most intimate place on the Earth, where you two can be sincere and sensitive.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything. He's got the crazy sex energy, and literally anything can make him go. Once, when you were brushing your teeth, and wearing one of his old tee-shirts and baggy pajama pants, he decided it was a good idea to start teasing you, by leaving wet, mouth-opened kisses on your neck and by fingering you slowly. You evidently couldn't brush you teeth normally at that moment.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Joe wouldn't do something that'll harm and hurt both of you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He's a pro in giving. You'll be screaming and grabbing his hair tightly, even though he barely touched you. And as you love giving too, he wouldn't ever be against it.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

You can experience every pace during the time you have sex. He may start roughly, pounding into you harshly, and then go slower, stretching you gently and whispering sweet nothings against your skin.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Joe loves quickies. Once when he was on set and had to leave for shooting in five minutes, he pinned you against the wall of his trailer and fucked the soul outta you. "It's just a preview of what you're getting at night", he winked at you while leaving and you just gasped. This man is something, y'all.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

You both love taking risks. Joe enjoys having sex when the guests you invited to your party may come at any moment; he once decided to start fingering you while you were at dinner with your family. "Such a good girl, taking me so well", he whispered in your ear when you struggled not to moan loudly in front of your parents. "I'm gonna fuck you so good when we get into the car. I'm gonna reward you for being such a good girl and not cumming here".

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

If he and you are feeling alright, 2 and more rounds. But if one of you is not okay, and the sex is just full of love and reassurance, there'd be just one round.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

You own toys. And Joe's using them on you. Especially when he's being a little shit - means when he's edging you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Once you were having an unplanned and sloppy sex in the secluded bathroom at one after-party of the awards, and he pulled out right when you were about to cum. He initiated the sex and denied you both. That's how much of a "tease" he is.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's loud when he's in the mood. He can moan loudly, and sometimes when you feel incredibly good he comes while screaming your name.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Joe's got a breeding kink. (It's not really surprising, though, this man radiates dad energy). He gets hard just thinking about you being pregnant with his child. Man wants to have a family with you, and that's why he can barely keep it in his pants when you're around (always).

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His dick is a perfect size to make you scream. That's it.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Joe's sex drive is immeasurable. You have no idea how this man can always be horny and ready to fuck.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He falls asleep as soon as you two cuddle; when you start breathing in unison, he nods off pretty quickly, still holding you tightly.

[epic-summaries]

Classic Fiction Review: Finnegans Wake

Omg I had this saved in a google doc for months and forgot to post it.

Anyway to the review:

Let me tell you why I started reading this.

So, audible has daily deals and on St Patrick’s day they were selling this. I look at it and go oh I’ve heard of this book and I liked the one James Joyce short story I read (it was The Dead btw). I buy it. It was 3 dollars, how could I not?

Problem, I forgot from where I heard of this book.

Now, it’s on my reading list and it’s its turn to be listened too. It’s 6 in the morning and I’m sleep deprived, I start my car, drive and I start listening. And I’m like wtf?! This is when I remember from where I heard this book. It was a sparknotes article listing the hardest books your English teacher would make you read and this was number 1. As quoted in the article, if your English teacher gives you this, this means they hate you. Okay. https://www.sparknotes.com/blog/classic-novels-ranked-in-order-of-how-easy-they-are-to-study/

I usually don’t go in blind when reading something. Usually, I go on the Wikipedia page and read the intro paragraph, this way I know what I’m getting into. This is not the one book you go in blind! But I’m in it. I bought it and I started. I’m going to finish it. Man was it a ride and a half.

Now that I bought it and read both it in print and listened the an audiobook version (as well as had some time to process this), I’m writing this. I've been thinking about this book way too much.

Plot

Hahahahahahahahaha. What plot?! I think there’s a plot. Maybe? Sorta? It’s there? Hidden I think?

After I decided to buy this online I went to Amazon and Indigo (Canadian book retailer), and when you search Finnegan’s Wake, there was more books explaining the book then there are versions of this book. As well as their summary of the book are all different. I know academics like arguing about everything. But usually it’s about the interpretation of the plot or the interpretation of the characters, not what the bare bones plot is! So if academics can’t agree with what the fuck the plot is, I’m not going to be any help.

I’m also convinced that the plot doesn’t matter.

The Characters

There are characters in here. My favourite is the Jute and the Irishman’s conversation. Yeah. That’s not because of the characters but because of the dialogue.

There’s a character list but if you asked me to name them I would the Jute, the Irishman, I’m pretty sure there was a game show host (seriously I’m not sure if I hallucinated it but the book then becomes a game show at one point.) Someone says Humphrey Chimpden Earwick is the main character.

Tone and Style

This is why I liked this book so much. Which honestly it doesn’t feel right calling this a book. The best comparison I have is that is like one of those mordern paintings. You know the ones. The one with a dot on a white canvas and it represents something like the loneliness we feel because of the crushing weight of capitalism or something. That painting. (Think Kamilah’s art in the Good Place.)

This is what I’m comparing this book too.

So, I have a spreadsheet of all the books I own on audible and I include genre. I called this Experimental. Might be an understatement. (If you haven’t noticed this is the first book I have read in this genre. Start with Virginia Woolf? Naw. Fyodor Dostoyevsky? Nope. Crime and Punishment? No. Ulysse would have probably been better. No, I just jumped into the deep end.)

Guys this piece of art starts in the middle of a sentence! That’s not a typo! It literally starts in the middle of a sentence! Then, want to know how it ends? Which the beginning of this sentence. It’s a never ending loop of surrealism!

These are the ramblings of a madman. A man so high on his own hubris he never stopped to think if he should write this? Or maybe Carl Jung was right and he was really schizophrenic? I highly doubt it because you don’t diagnose people through their writings.

And I loved it. I never enjoyed feeling stupid more then engaging in this book. Am I masochist?

I finally found a book harder to recommend then Les Misérables! Seriously, I have no idea if I recommend reading this book.

The audible version which btw is abridged kind of, there are many copies out there. I usually listen to books at 1.25 or 1.5. This I suggest keeping it at normal speed.

The physical copy I own. Look at that cover, I’m not the only one comparing it to Mordern Art.

[inkyturtle]

41 Mike and Don >:3 (I just realized, I don't think I've ever seen a story from you so even if you don't do this one I can't wait to read the others)

41. “Damn auto-correct…”

bed soon?

Donatello had a wary smile on his face as he read the simple text from his only little brother. He looked at the notes he'd written, finding it difficult to actually read them. It was late, likely much later than Mikey would normally be awake. A glance at his phone confirmed this.

Still he looked at his laptop, which now taken apart on his work desk. Donnie could kick himself for all the work his minor mistake had put into play. He could have spent the night decrypting the data on the storage device they managed to snag from the Kraang. Instead, here he was tediously replacing the USB port it damage, along with the other components it somehow managed to fry in the process. It was some sort of bizarre domino effect the genius had never witnessed before, so of course he needed to jot down notes regarding the damage. Then he needed to make sure he had the replacement parts. Also since it had been a while, and he already had the thing taken apart, he may as well do some needed manual updates...

That was only the manual upgrades. It was going to be a whole different journey trying to make his laptop compatible with that storage device, and the knowledge that he'd likely have to decrypt and translate the files.

With a light sigh, Donnie typed out a reply to his brother.

It's still going to be a while. You should go to sleep.

That much was true. It's not that he didn't appreciate Mikey's concern, but whatever reason Mikey was still awake probably wasn't a good one. The fact that Mikey was texting him was a little odd too, now that he thought about it. Maybe the small turtle had tried to knock earlier, and Donnie had missed it? He was pretty distracted, all things considered. Whatever the case may be, a good night's sleep would likely help his brother out.

The sound of his phone told him that Mikey might not be keen on the idea.

what r u doing?

Now he was certain Mikey needed something. A distraction, probably. Mikey probably wouldn't have asked that question otherwise.

Donatello looked at the door to his lab. The thought of checking on his baby brother crossed his mind, but he knew if he did that it would be difficult for him to get back to his work tonight. This was far too important to keep waiting a whole night; he'd already lost a few hours trying to fix his own novice mistake.

A text, he thought, was at least something he could do.

I'm repairing my laptop.

It wasn't even a full minute before he got a reply. Likely due to Mikey's sloppy way of typing, Donnie had to presume.

i didnt know it was broken

With a sigh, the elder of the two rubbed his temple. His vision blurred while reading the screen, but it wasn't unfamiliar. Being exhausted while working was par for the course for him. If he had to, he'd get some coffee after he was certain Mikey was asleep. 

After a moment more, he finally wrote up a reply.

I didn't take the compatibility issues of our conflicting technology into account.

our what?

Donnie groaned. Mikey wasn't that stupid. There was no way that was difficult to understand.

Another message.

what conflict?

Donnie slouched in his chair, resting his chin against the desk as he typed a response to his sibling.

The Kraang's storage device wasn't compatible with the USED slit. I ended up damaging the slit in the process. I can only hope I didn't damage the device as well.

The terrapin shut his eyes. Maybe replying to Mikey wasn't the best idea after all. It didn't take much time or effort to type up a reply, but with how fast and frequently his brother was responding, it left him with little time to do much else. He let out a long yawn, shaking his head as he quickly shot up. He scrunched his brow in determination.

No, he had to finish. He was the only one who could do this, after all. He was about to lift his screwdriver when he heard the phone go off again.

And again.

Three times.

Donatello wanted to ignore it, but he knew he had to check regardless. Plus, he was curious as to why his brother would send so many texts in succession.

dude

r u ok?

im pretty sure ur not suposed to use them like that

Donnie was absolutely puzzled.

What are you talking about?

A quick response.

scroll up

Perplexed, the older turtle read over previous messages. When he caught the error, he felt blood rush to his cheeks. The typo, when combined with Mikey's texts, made for an embarrassing and...somewhat lewd mental image. Donnie let out an agitated groan, typing out another response.

I meant USB port! The USB port was incompatible with the storage device.

lol

Damn auto-correct...

come to bed dude

I can't. I have to get this finished.

do u have to do all of it?

I should at least get the laptop back in wanking condition.

omg

lol

*Working!!!

if ur not going to bed then let me make u some coffee

You should be the one going to bed.

well im not

im already making u some

come out

It was pointless; Donnie hadn't touched his work since Mikey started texting him, and he had a feeling that would remain the case at the rate he was going. Defeated, Donatello stood up and headed towards the lab door. If Mikey was so insistent on seeing him, he may as well figure out why.

Besides, he really could use the caffeine boost.

[thereluctantinquisitor]

Hi! I've read all of your Hanin x Josie fics, and I'm in love! If you're ever taking prompts, how about this: A really angsty fic where Hanin gets injured protecting Josie, and Josie panicking and worrying (and eventually visiting him at the healer's tent)? (I'm trash for good angst)

Angst and ye shall receive, dear nonny! (Apologies if this is riddled with typos - I kind of slammed it out all at once because I felt the itch to write and have almost no time to do it lately)

Hanin Lavellan x Josephine Montilyet, approx 2400 words, most under the cut.

CW: graphic depictions of violence, major character injury. 

Sometimes, things just happen. Things break. Things fallapart. Things don’t go according to plan.

Sometimes, people who seem innocent enough turn out to beassassins.

Hanin was surprised, to say the least, when the blade sankhilt-deep into the back of his shoulder. He grunted, too shocked to react more fittingly, staggeringforward and groping on reflex as though touching the blade could somehow undothe damage. Instincts kicking in, he spun, good arm swinging, slappingaway a second strike aimed at his chest. Aimed to end his life. Theassassin reeled, thrown to the side, leaving Hanin to stagger away, panting, furious at himself, hands shaking, skin burning—

Pain.

Agony blossomed from the deep wound, heat pulsing beneathhis tunic. There was no armour to protect him. Stupid.They had been so close to Skyhold, it hadn’t seemed necessary. Not for a shortwalk in the early afternoon.

If only he’d known. If only he’d been less of a fool.

“Hanin!” Josephine’s voice was pitched with fear, blue eyeswide, hands pulled tight to the centre of her chest. He turned her gaze to the assassin. “Stop this, please!” Shestared between the pair until her eyes locked on the red spreadingacross Hanin’s back. Horrified, she took a faltering step backwards, shaking herhead in silent petition to the blood flowing from the wound. Begging it to stop. Growling, Hanindrew his shortsword, hand trembling. It was the only weapon he had. He knew he wasnot prepared for a proper fight. That he might have made the gravest mistake of hislife. But sometimes…

“Run,” Hanin urged, teeth gritted as he swapped the blade from onehand to the other, hefting it with his uninjured arm. Though the movement wasonly slight, a stab of pain shot through him and he hissed inwardly, tryingeverything to keep it at bay. To focus. “Get back to Skyhold. Tell—”

The assassin charged. Hanin bit off his words and leapt back,giving himself just enough room to raise his blade and block the strike,viper-fast, stabbing for his chest. Steel met steel, razor edges sliding offone another as Hanin turned the blow to the side, stepping hastily out of thekiller’s path. Of course, he could not go far. He had to stay between thisdeadly woman and Josephine. He had to.

“Run!” he roared again, not bothering to look back, throwinghimself at the assassin before she could properly recover her footing. He swungdown but she dipped, weaving beneath his blade, coming up on the other side soclose he could feel the brush of her copper hair against his skin. Her daggerwas in her off-hand, her positioning all wrong, but that hardly slowed her. Raisingher free hand, she slammed her fist right into the wound on Hanin’s back,driving it home with the twist of a knuckle. She drew a roar of pain from Hanin and sent him stumbling forward, knees weak, vision blurring, mouth flooding withsour spit.

Dizzy, Hanin slipped and fell to one knee, but only for amoment, managing to haul himself back to his feet and turn as the assassinrounded on him, slow and silent. Heart hammering, he met her gaze, expectingthe sharp glare of a killer only to find something flat and tired staring back.Passionless. Another day, another death.

Hanin’s grip tightened on his sword. Not today.

He tried. He truly did. But with each swing he found himselfslowing, his shirt now completely stuck to his back, damp with the smell of iron, his head spinning with each unsteady movement. The assassin was justtoo fast; smaller than he was, but moving to some deadly, unheard music.Strike, parry, riposte; the verse. Slash, parry, lunge; the chorus. Minutesdragged like hours until Hanin was flagging, breath coming short and sharp, bladetrailing behind where his mind knew it needed to be. The woman opened wounds on hisskin like an eager child clawing open a midwinter gift, her expression stone,her steel deadly and dripping. Exhausted, Hanin slashed, managing to catch her in theside, but left himself open, the lunge sloppy, his world swimming in and out offocus. Sensing her opportunity, the assassin tensed, muscles coiling tight. Asthough the blade cutting her side was little more than an inconvenience, shestepped into it, dragging herself along the sword’s edge, eyes dead, hairburning copper, breath slow and steady and—

She slammed her dagger into his chest.

Thu-thump. Thu-thump.Thu-thump.

She was so… close. Hanin’s sword fell from his fingers, loose with shock. His heart laboured and he groped on blind instinct, clumsily clutching at the woman’s shoulders as his legsgave out, knees buckling, numbness spreading from his heart outwards. The beating was in his ears. In his head. It was everywhere but in his chestas he sagged, the last sliver of air in his lungs sighing unnoticed past his lips amid the cacophony.

Thu-thump.. Thu-thump..Thu-thump..

“You fought well,” the assassin said as he lost his grip, hands sliding down her arms,bloody and shaking, dragging twin streaks of red across pale skin. Her ownhands were bracing him calmly as he sank to his knees, still somehow upright, eyes wideand sightless. “A worthy opponent.”

Thu-thump… Thu-thump…Thu-thump…

His head tipped forward and he could see it now. The hilt,blurring and doubling as his vision began to fail. Numb, he tried toreach up and rip it out – it shouldn’t bethere – but he couldn’t seem to move his arms. He blinked slowly; tipped his head back. Searched for her face. Not the assassins. Her face. But all he could see was the womanwho had killed him, cowled and cold, watching with nothing left to give. No sorrow. No regret.No contempt. Just tired.

So… tired.

Thu-thump… Thu-thump…

Hanin tried to speak, but blood bubbled past his lips, spilling from the corner of his mouth. His throat spasmed as if tocough, but nothing happened. Then another pulse of something hot and metallicfilled his mouth, so thick that he choked on it, sputtering up far more thanhis body could afford to give. He needed to stop. To stay calm. To breathe.

Thu-thump……thump…

Still staring, Hanin’s world began to tip on its side. He sagged, the strength flooding out of him in a single, boneless rush, ground racing up to meet him. Theassassin, copper hair blowing about her face, watched him fall with the utmostdisinterest, green eyes empty poison vials. Spent. But, just before Hanin hit theground, he swore he saw something crack that mask. Something that opened thosedead eyes wide and fast, as though a blade had been driven right through herheart. He couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t think.The rushing sound in his ears deafened him to the world as darkness swiftlystole it from him, spilling like ink across his eyes. A curtain drawing tooearly. Too soon.

I’m… sorry…

Thump.

The blade slipped from Josephine’s trembling hands, the bloodpainting her fingers the colour of rust as the assassin crumpled to the groundlike a marionette, the strings tying her to life severed. Woman andweapon thudded to the dust together, but Josephine was already moving,half-stumbling over the woman’s bloody body to reach another. Neverstopping. Barely breathing.Too afraid to waste even a second.

Hanin lay motionless on the ground, dagger buried in histoo-still chest. Surprisingly, very little blood had managed to seep past thesheathed steel, but as Josephine fell to her knees beside him, she saw athick pool of it beside his mouth, soaking into the dirt. Her hands shook – shehovered them just above his torso, as if afraid to touch him. What would she do? 

What could she do?

“No.” She shook her head, as if to deny the sight beforeher. “No. You… you cannot. Hanin? Hanin, openyour eyes.” Her lip trembled, voice breaking. “Open your eyes. Please. You must. Hanin, it is over. We are safe now. Please…”

More footsteps. More assassins, perhaps. Unlikely, butpossible. Josephine couldn’t bring herself to turn, her hands finally pressingto the elven man’s skin. Still warm. Still alive?Yes. Yes, he had to be. He was strong. The strongest man she knew. Of course was alive. She threaded herfingers through his, clutching their pressed palms toher stomach. She curled forward, leaning over limp fingers that refused tosqueeze back. She would not cry. He was still alive. He was.

She would not cry.

Someone was speaking, his voice gentle but urgent. ButJosephine could not make out the words, and it wasn’t until the person placed ahand on her shoulder and tried to draw her away that she snapped, lashing outwith open palm, slapping the offending arm aside. “No!” She took a ragged breath, shookher head, and curled back over Hanin’s body without even looking at the man by herside. She knew who he was. How he and Hanin loathed one another. Now, Hanin layin perfect, unnatural stillness, his hair matted with blood, bruisesblossoming across his handsome face. Lines of red were carved into his skin in too,too many places. A pained sob caught in Josephine’s throat and she cursed it, swallowingit back. He was alive. She. Would. Not. Cry.

“Ambassador, hear me. There may still be time, but I must act now...”

Hanin remembered nothing of the time between hitting theground and waking. Nothing but the darkness of a sleep absent dreams, asthough the void had swallowed him whole. Alone. Silent. Drifting.

Thu-thump. Thu-thump.Thu-thump.

His brow flickered, the sound… eerie. Familiar. It filledhis ears. His head. His chest. Therealisation carried a strange sense of comfort; one Hanin couldn’t quite place.Inhaling, he winced as something stabbed inside him, like a rib curved thewrong way. On instinct, he reached up, only to find his wrist caught bysomeone’s hand, the grasp gentle but firm. It took everything he had to forceopen his eyes and abandon the comforting dark. To open himself to the world.

What he saw made it entirely worth the effort.

Josephine was gazing down at him, the blue of her eyes allthe brighter for the redness that framed them. She sniffed, smiling shakily througha silent stream of tears, clutching his hand as though it was the only thingkeeping them both from falling. “Hanin.” The way she said his name always senta trickle of comfort through his spine. One so pleasant it made him shiver, eventhough he was neither hot or cold. “You are awake. How do you feel?”

Blinking with deliberate slowness, Hanin tried to form thoughts, but their shapes were blurred and muddy. He squeezed his eyes shut for amoment, concentrating, then opened them again, not wanting to be parted fromthe sight of her face for a moment longer than needed. “I…” He swallowed, voicegravel-rough, grinding against his throat. “I’m fine. I—”

Suddenly, his eyes flew wide, darting around the room in afeverish panic. “The assassin. Josephine, she—agh!” Hanin tried to sit up butnearly blacked out again, eyes rolling back as pain ripped through his chest,stabbing all the way to his spine. He dragged in a shattered gasp but Josephine was already moving, pressinggently on his shoulders, pushing him back down and making soothing noises, tense with worry.

“No, Hanin. You mustrest. Regain your strength. I am safe. She…” Josephine hesitated for thebriefest moment, words faltering. Then her expression hardened. “The assassin hasbeen dealt with.”

On any other day, Hanin would have demanded more. More information.More time. More words, spoken by a voice that frequently stole the tension from his body and the breath from his chest. Instead, he just turned his head weakly and looked at her,trying to force his gaze to bring her features into focus. Those bright,worried eyes. That proud nose. Those soft, clever lips. He smiled as the blurshifted to the world behind her, and she smiled softly back, every line of her perfect and clear and beautiful.

“Josephine… a-are you…?”

A gentle chuckle greeted the half-question. “I am fine, Hanin. Better, now that youare awake.” She paused, as though considering whether to continue. Hanin’spatient silence made the decision for her. “I crossed paths with Solas on theway back to Skyhold. He was able to keep you alive long enough for us to bringyou to the healers.” She swallowed as her voice quavered. “Your outlook was… uncertain. You had lost so muchblood. I…”

Hanin shook his head weakly, signalling that she need notcontinue. Grateful, Josephine just gave a small nod, eyes glistening once morewith the threat of tears. He frowned at that, wishing he had the strength to reach up. Cup her face. Brush away the water on her cheeks.

“Josephine…”

“I thought I had lost you.”

Hanin said nothing. After all, she spoke the words hehad taken too long to say. Instead, his fingers twitched against the mattress,the movement slight but draining the last of his strength. Luckily, Josephinenoticed and reached down, twining their fingers in answer to his silent request. She raised their linkedhands and pressed his knuckles to her lips, closing her eyes, breathing gently.For the first time since waking, Hanin felt a hint of warmth against his skin. Alive.

“… and I you, when I fell,” he murmured eventually, sick unease twisting likea knife in his chest at the thought of losing her. “I was careless. A fool. It will not happen again, Iswea—”

“No.” Josephine shook her head, voice understanding, but hergaze firm. “Please, swear no such thing, Hanin. What happened was not yourfault. You cannot possibly account for all things. No one can. I know you willtry, but I beg you not to. Just…” That soft, sad smile crept back as she ran her thumb along the back of his hand. “Be kind toyourself. Please. If you cannot do it for your own benefit,then do it for mine.”

Hanin swallowed, exhaustion rising like the tide, draggingat his consciousness, pulling him away from her once more. In the midst of thatdeep, roiling unease, he heard his own voice. Distant, as though his mind and hisbody were in separate rooms. “I… don’t know if I can... Josie...”

Eyes slipping shut, he tried to fight it; to push back thefatigue and keep it at bay. But it rose around him like a flood, dark and insistent, only the warmth of his hand in Josephine’s keeping Hanin from losing himselfto mindless panic. Instead, her touch anchored him. Reminded him of the one thing thatmattered.

They were alive. 

As he finallylet himself drift back into a dreamless sleep, Hanin heard her voice onelast time, kind and endlessly patient. More than anyone deserved.

”Try.”