#it was mostly random personal thoughts but there were some show thoughts too

[iguessitsjustme]

Love Sea Episode 9 Thoughts

I can hear you. What happened to episode 8 liveblog? Did you not liveblog it? I can hear the questions. Here’s the thing. I didn’t watch episode 8. I’m testing a theory that I actually don’t need to watch episode 8. To be clear, I know roughly two things that happened (Mut talking to Rak’s dad and the girls kissing because Mook is helping Vi rehearse lines) but that’s all I know. And if that’s all I know, I should still be missing things from an hour long episode. I don’t think I will be. So I’m testing my theory that I can just skip the episode and still be able to follow along with the story. If I can, it will prove my point about this show’s lazy writing. Anyway, I just finished eating my coco puffs (dinner of champions) and I am ready to watch. Under the cut as always:

The previously on is telling me some things too. Not a whole lot though. This episode should still make no sense to me after skipping an episode.

She is a child. She should not be the one deciding on whether or not her guardians are told something regarding her own safety and also their safety. 

Mut protecting Meena and telling her to get behind him is good. Not telling her to call the police while she is literally holding her phone is bad. Just a quick whispered “call the police” should have happened.

Dear GOD what song is that car even listening to? Stop being noisy and go away I am TRYING to watch!

Okay I appreciate a good fight scene as much, if not more, than the next person, but I cannot figure out where Mut would have learned these fighting skills? Like don’t get me wrong, watching him wail on these two dudes is very entertaining to me but it also doesn’t make sense. What reason would he have had to learn this on the island?

*drinks choccy milk* *gnaws on pickle*

When did his face get hit to be bleeding?

Oh no. Oh dear. I cannot believe this. You have to *gasp* tell the…truth? Only the worst people in the entire world EVER tell the truth. What will become of you? Rak finding out even if you lie…boy what is wrong with Rak finding out something that could POTENTIALLY BE DANGEROUS TO HIM AND HIS LOVED ONES. I cannot do this. I should not be watching this on a school night. Cause I need alcohol. What the fuck is this.

Oh really. I forgot about this show’s desire to use flashbacks all the time. I really don’t need episode 8 because I’ll just get a flashback when needed. God this writing is so…maybe I’ll break my rules and drink alcohol anyways. I think I might have some soju buried in my fridge somewhere….

Oh that wasn’t a flashback? But it was in the previously on?

Oh it was. It was both a flashback and not a flashback. That makes sense. In some world I’m sure.

It is very satisfying to watch Mook push Vi out of Rak’s apartment actually.

I basically just spend this whole show feeling bad for Mook and…no one else.

His dad. No?

I drank all my choccy milk :(

Peat is too good of an actor for MAME. The way he makes Rak so small when facing his dad is so impressive.

As it turns out, blasting Stray Kids does, sometimes, make my neighbors stop having their conversations RIGHT OUTSIDE my door. Like guys. Go talk outside your own door.

God this camera work is making me motion sick. I hate it when they do this. I get it sometimes. I understand the reason it can be good. I don’t think it is necessary here and it just makes this scene that much harder for me to watch.

And this show has done this a lot. I need more stable shots. If most of the show is shot like this, it removes so much of the impact for scenes when it could be very good. And I get maybe wanting to do an inverse where the stable shots are the ones with the emotional impact, but to be clear, that is not what this show is doing. None of the scenes are landing the way they should be landing and the way they are intended to. They are overusing things in this show that should be saved for specific moments. Nothing feels fully thought out in this show. Everything feels like half an idea that was put together at the last minute because they ran out of time. And unless I’m wrong, that’s not the case for this show. They had the time and they just failed to utilize it. This feels like they started creating the show before any plan was created and in place on how to actually do that.

I must admit, watching Mut punch Rak’s dad was satisfying. Especially considering I was pretty much chanting “just deck ‘im." He didn’t punch him nearly enough before getting pulled off of him. Also that was such a poorly directed fight. What was that? Mut basically just laid on top of Rak’s dad with his fist raised and he didn’t punch him again? I would understand if it looked like Rak’s dad put up any sort of fight but it didn’t look like he was really struggling that hard. God Mut should have been feral. Where was that?

I hate that I actually really like the line “You’re the one that took off my collar. Are you prepared to face me?” I really wish it was in a better show. Because up until now, we have had no reason to believe Mut was in any way shape or form dangerous or violent. He was even better than all of MAME’s other semes by actually having Rak’s consent before sleeping with him. So why should I believe he is able to do anything to Rak’s dad other than the show has decided that he can with no contextual support. But god, if Mut had the backup of the previous episodes (and maybe something was explained in episode 8 that I missed but most likely not), this line would being doing things to me because there’s something about a character that’s been kept on a leash, finally being let off the leash to wreak havoc that is just catnip to me.

Having Mut come in and solve everything. Every family problem and miscommunication in 30 seconds (part of it happening off-screen) is so annoying. What is the meaning of the resolution if only one character had to do minimal work for it and it wasn’t the character most affected. Having Mut stand up to Rak’s dad in place of Rak instead of simply supporting him. Showing up and telling him what he learned to give Rak the opportunity to cut those ties himself. To speak up first. It’s just…that whole scene should have been about Rak but instead it was about Mut solving Rak’s problems. It made the drama boring and took away the importance of the moment. It took away from both characters’ development and growth. Mut is a boring character because he is perfect. And even when he does wrong, he actually doesn’t do any wrong. Rak trying to call things off and Mut refusing and immediately fixing the situation was too perfect and that makes a story boring. I don’t want the drama in a show to be boring. I want it to make sense but most importantly, I want it to be entertaining. And if a character is so perfect that they’re able to literally stop the drama during the big climactic confrontation, then the part of the show that should be the most entertaining is now incredibly boring.

This is an insane line to include in a show that half-assed so much of its production I am actually losing my mind. Not a single person involved in this show put their all into it. Actually I take that back. The actors did. But not a single other soul involved in this show. No one behind the scenes gave more than one singular shit if they even gave that. Absolutely insane. What a line. This is just so fucking weird to include in this show. It is so lackluster I skipped an entire episode and missed nothing.

The preview for next week and the tiny drama they’re gonna have means nothing to me after what they just went through. Like seriously? That’s going to be their next issue? After all of that? MAME does this sometimes when she puts the drama out of order so it doesn’t make sense and makes it feels like the characters are actually regressing or like the major conflict never happened in the first place let alone have a resolution *stares daggers at Don’t Say No*

Anyway my experiment is complete. As it turns out, watching episode 8 is not needed. Just having minimal knowledge of what happened is fine and you don’t miss anything. Except possible exposition to explain Mut’s random fighting skills that don’t make sense. But to be clear, if that happened in episode 8, it also is too late for it to work with the context of the story. Just throwing it in at the last second to explain something doesn’t work because it wasn’t given proper thought. Whatever. Only one more week of this and maybe next time I’ll get drunk first. At least maybe then I’ll be entertained.

[emocheol]

taking pictures

finding out about your boyfriends sweet secret

contains: vernon x gn!reader, fluff, reader eating, established relationship

a/n: mostly based on vn telling sk that he looks at him more than he thinks, loosely based on taking pictures of you by the kooks (i just love that song)

“that’s going in the scrapbook,” vernon says casually, phone in hand as he shakes his head over a photo he just took.

his words snap you out of your one track demolishing-this-plate-of-food mind and you drop your fork with a groan. you try to reach over the table and snatch his phone while simultaneously using your other hand to wipe your mouth to prevent embarrassing yourself any further.

“you better delete that!” you threatened, though vernon didn’t take it as a threat as he continued to laugh and shake his head.

“give the phone to me right now!” you tried to sound intimidating and it only made him laugh even harder.

“babe, you look so good! so in love… with that plate of food,” he teases, clearing his throat as he looks at the picture again, “like damn you’re tearing that shit up,” he continues, knowing how to tease you just the right amount.

“hansol vernon chwe, delete that picture now!” you muster your best ‘i’m upset with you voice’, though you can’t seem to make it too hard hitting since you find it endearing when he laughs so much over something.

he slipped his phone into his back pocket and gave an exaggerated gasp, “my full name? low blow, babe,” he said, feigning disappointment.

“how come you only take embarrassing pictures of me?” you sighed, going back to eating as you knew you wouldn’t be able to snatch his phone now.

“not true, i have a whole album of the prettiest photos of you,” he said casually, as if it was common knowledge.

you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, not believing him for a second since you only ever caught him taking, what you thought were, horrible pictures of you.

“show it to me,” you motioned, holding your palm out for his phone.

he shrugged at this and dropped his phone in your hand after he opened his photos and clicked on the album titled ‘mine’.

“don’t delete anything, please,” he said in complete seriousness, those really were his favorite pictures of you.

you nodded in agreement, you wanted to see this alleged album more than anything so you wouldn’t be taking any chances at him snatching the phone back.

you took his phone and saw that the album had over 500 photos of you in it. some posed, some where you’re looking at the camera, some where you’re smiling at the person behind the camera, but most were completely candid.

most pictures in that album you had no knowledge of. you had no idea that he took so many photos, especially photos of you.

“when do you even take these? i never notice you taking photos of me like this,” you said slowly, scrolling through the photos.

“c’mon, babe, i look at you more often than you think. you’re so beautiful i have to take a picture to savor the memory,” he said casually, as if it wasn’t the most romantic thing you’d heard. and he decided to drop that information on you at a random fast food lunch stop.

you looked at him and jutted your lip out, your eyes slowly getting glassy.

“don’t you dare cry on me,” he said quickly, knowing the signs all too well, “there’s nothing to cry about.”

“i won’t,” you sniffled, your lip still quivering.

you both paused for a second before he spoke up again.

“yeah you will,” he stated, a slow nod of acceptance.

“yeah i will,” you echoed with a nod, standing up from your seat and sitting down next to vernon instead of across from him.

you loosely hugged your arms around his midsection while you fought tears. while he had no idea what was going on, he held you with a look of confusion on his face, wondering if the photos really upset you that much.

“it’s just some photos, baby, you want me to delete them? i will if it upsets you.” he said quickly, wanting to do everything he could to make you feel better.

“these are tears of happiness, nonie, that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder as you dabbed your few tears with a napkin.

now he looked at you with a raised eyebrow and rubbed your shoulder. “really? i just took some pictures…” he said slowly, trying to understand where you were coming from.

he didn’t get why it was so sweet because it was natural for him. why wouldn’t he take pictures of his favorite person? why wouldn’t he want to cherish your memories together and your beauty?

you knew you couldn’t explain it so you settled on telling him how much you loved him over and over again. that was until he had to grab your, now forgotten, plate of food and make you eat it so you’d stop professing your love to him in the middle of a fast food restaurant.

vernon was a quiet lover, but his quiet love spoke loud volumes.

[withleeknow]

rue de rivoli.

pairing: hyunjin x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, semi edited lol, a little sappy and very self indulgent and inspired by a very specific instance in that one hyunjin vlog in japan 🤷‍♀️ word count: 0.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

hyunjin might be the worst - and you mean it, the worst - travel partner.

it’s all because of that ridiculously expensive camera of his and the little hobby that he’s taken up on.

“hey,” he calls out softly, trailing a few steps behind you as he raises the camera up to his face again. “hold it right there.”

you huff out a breath in mild annoyance, blowing some hair away from your face as the air escapes from your lips.

“seriously? you’ve taken a gazillion pictures already. this is the third time you’ve made me stop in the past thirty minutes.”

“but the lighting is just perfect.”

“we’re only here for a few days! i can’t see all the places i wanna see if you keep making me stop every two seconds!”

it was cute at first, how he kept asking you to stop in the middle of the street to snap a photo of you. it made you blush every time he did, because he would take another brief moment to admire the final product on his camera’s display screen and tell you that even though the photo turned out great, it could never truly capture how beautiful you are through his eyes. then he’d press a kiss to your cheek or a swift peck to your lips before taking your hand and tugging you along, en route to the tourist attractions that you’ve yet to come across.

to be fair, it’s still cute, and despite your feeble irritation, you still let hyunjin take his photos every time he asks. mostly because he would start sporting a gigantic pout on his face, coupled with the way his eyes widen like a puppy begging for a treat.

“please? you look so pretty right now. pleaseee?”

you acquiesce - of course you do - because who can say no to a cute whiny hyunjin?

you roll your eyes half-heartedly, and a bright grin immediately spreads on his lips because he knows that he’s getting what he wants, the smile so brilliant that it brings out his whisker dimples and turns his eyes into adorable crescent moons.

he patters over to you on light footsteps once the shot has been snapped, proudly showing you his handy work even though you secretly think it looks the same as any other photo of you that he’s taken - sometimes it’s your side profile with your hair covering half of your face because you’re too awkward to look directly at the camera, sometimes it’s you in random poses because you’re never sure what to do with your hands while getting your picture taken.

“did you even take any photos of the scenery?”

hyunjin shrugs, pretty indifferent to your question. “yeah, a few.”

“a few? give me that, let me see... you’ve taken two hundred and sixty four photos so far and only a few are of freaking paris?!”

another shrug, then cue one of the corniest things he’s ever said to you in your entire life. “you’re prettier than paris.”

sure, it’s a massively cliché thing to say, and a teeny bit cringeworthy to hear if this were a sappy romance movie. but coming from him, you know the sentiment is entirely genuine because hyunjin is nothing if not one of the sincerest people you know.

it makes you short-circuit as you stare up at him. the sun behind him softens by a fraction as it starts to make its descent, and the slowly fading sunlight looks as though it’s found a home as his personal halo. to have someone as beautiful as him tell you that you’re prettier than the city of love itself is quite honestly a little surreal, no matter how long you’ve been together.

“that was the cheesiest shit ever,” you comment, pretending to gag but knowing perfectly well that he can see the rosy flush on your cheeks. you mutter something else - for good measure - along the lines of never going on a trip with him again.

hyunjin laughs that endearing signature laugh of his, then he twists the cap back on the camera lens and once again lets the device dangle from the strap around his neck. he pulls you toward him with ease and kisses you deeply with a smile on his lips, one that’s warmer than the parisian sun could ever hope to be.

no, hyunjin isn’t a great travel partner. yes, mostly because he takes up all of your time trying to take pictures of you instead of letting you freely wander to the spots that you’d spent a lot of time bookmarking on google maps beforehand. he might be the worst person you’ve gone on a trip with because when you’re travelling, you like to be productive with your time and be able to do everything you set out to do in the limited number of days you have.

but even then, maybe it’s not that terrible having to miss watching the sunset in front of the eiffel tower because more exquisite than all of the most renowned artworks displayed in the louvre and more enchanting than any view you can spot from montmarte is your hyunjin that you adore, who’s kissing you in the middle of a street which name you can’t even pronounce.

any irritation you had from before slowly melts away. you don’t even care (that much) that you’re in the city of love.

any city is love when you’re with him.

(even when he messes up your travel plans sometimes.)

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki (italicized = can’t tag)

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 04.03.2024]

[eepywriters]

dating younger quackity? like 2018-2019

.✦°. • Dating younger Quackity ( ´∀｀)

warnings: none^^

a/n: thank u so much for the request! This was super fun to write, took me back to 2019 when I started watching him :D either way hope you enjoy! (Sorry it took so long 😭 life’s been busy)

I feel like he’d be the type to fall in love with his best friend, or generally someone that he knows fairly well

Expect nights spent talking on the phone with him, laughing your asses off at memes and stupid games instead of doing homework

Or endless bike rides around the city, as if you didn’t do that one route million of times

Maybe even little lessons on the basics of boxing (he isn’t a very good teacher though, he’s too afraid to hurt you)

It comes naturally, his heartbeat starts to pick up every time he hears your voice, your laugh, you saying his name ugh

And you won’t stop leaving his mind, you’re always there, in every each one of his thoughts (might as well pay rent at this point)

Have you always sound this pretty?

Have you always been this pretty?

Before he knows it, he’s noticing all the little details that make you, well, YOU

He’s in love.

Fuck.

He wouldn’t know what to do about his feelings, either he ignores them and buries this secret deep into his heart, or, after a scary amount of convincing from his friends, he confronts you with the shyest demeanor you’ve ever seen him wear

Assuming this is one of his first experiences, if not the first, he would be very cautious in his actions, not sure yet about how to handle a relationship, especially if it gets more serious

He wouldn’t talk about being in a romantic relationship for a while, mostly cause he doesn’t like to share his personal life too much, especially when it comes to romance

But is there a teenage boy that doesn’t like to brag about being in a relationship?

Would mention it once, casually, you know, to be cool and all

Like “yeah I have a partner” a little smile to top it off, nothing big, just a bit of something to feel swag

Nobody believed him.

The loud boy who screamed about the president 24/7 having a partner? Yeah nice try kiddo, go back to play your stupid videogames

At some point in his young carrier he got tired about the running joke of you being an illusion

“This is what too much screen time does to a person KEKW” chat would say, haha how funny (if you hadn’t notice, he’s being sarcastic)

As frustrating as it was to battle against hundreds of people on whether HE was in a relationship or not, he’d never ask you to do anything you are uncomfortable in doing

So, even if showing up on stream would probably help with this little problem of his, he’d encourage you to actually think carefully if you want to make an appearance or not

“I do have a partner!” Alex says for what feels like the fiftieth time that evening. He should probably give up, after all who cares if chat doesn’t believe him. He knows the truth and that’s enough. Right?

WRONG.

His credibility, and his pride, are in the way. Plus is he even that bad of a catch for people to think he can’t pull?

His head falls onto his hand, resting there as he lets his thoughts run while the fast stream chat on his monitor lights up his face in various dull colors.

You were sitting on a little chair, not too far away from him, staring at something in your phone. He did feel bad for inviting you over just for him to stream an hour later, but you had always said that you didn’t mind watching him since you liked seeing him do something he enjoyed. As if he didn’t enjoy spending time with you, but fine.

So he put his insecurities aside, most of them being about you possibly not liking his streams, and provided you a chair to at least sit comfortably as he robbed you of your time by going live yet again.

It had been going fairly well: he was checking out some horrible games in Roblox, or rather he had been screaming his lungs out for an hour straight, and of course, when a random kid on Roblox asked him to be his girlfriend, chat got back on their “no relationship, you are a loser” (he knows it’s a long name, he couldn’t come up with anything better okay??) agenda.

Your hand waving in his peripheral vision brought him back from his mind: he hadn’t realized he had zoned out.

He looked at you briefly, almost feeling bad for the worried stare you were giving him. He usually doesn’t feel this defeated after an unserious bickering with chat, but to say that this all situation wasn’t playing with his self-doubts would be lying. He’s fine though, he just feels a little gloomy today.

You turn your head to the side and give him a thumps up, voicelessly asking whether he was fine or not. And he just nods, giving you a little, forced, smile before going back to the bright monitor. He doesn’t like the thought of you being concerned about this. While, admittedly, it does feel nice to have someone worried about him, Alex never quite liked to be a bother to anyone. He could handle this alone.

Then why is his head so heavy? And why does he feel without energy all of a sudden? He just needs to do what he does best: push the pain away and walk forward. But even something as easy as that sounds impossible right now.

Maybe he should end stream.

He’s too lost in his own thoughts to realize you had stood from your chair, steadily approaching his setup. When he realizes what’s going on, it’s too late.

“You don’t-“ before the frantic words can leave his mouth, you were already behind him. You cross your arms down his chest, whilst your head, resting on the top of his beanie, being high enough to not get seen by the webcam.

Many things were going trough Alex’s mind, a lot of them being about how nice it felt being hold by you, but only two words left his lips:

“Who’s got no game now, huh?”.

At that point it would go from chat not believing him to chat teasing him endlessly about him being a simp

You two could do nothing and he would still be accused of it, just because you were there

Is it true? Yeah, but it was nonetheless a bit annoying

He WOULD bully you on stream when the secret is out

Chat: “do you like (Name) or Thanos more? Don’t lie”

“Well…” he’d say, scratching his neck in faux uneasiness.

“Don’t think about it what the fuck!”.

His chat took your relationship quite well, after all the time he wasn’t famous enough to have fans being jealous and obsessing over him

Actually you became kind of an icon of his channel

And he did milk this for content but it’s not like you didn’t encourage him, quite the contrary, so expect videos like “playing Roblox with my partner” or “The best Habbo raid ever w/(Name)”

As sweet as this all can be, we haven’t forgot about his light teasing (borderline bullying) on stream, have we?

Don’t worry, you got back at him with the help of Aksel countless of time, he’d be your partner in crime when it came to bullying Alex

You were watching meme compilations with them on stream, occasionally sharing some little laughs and snarky comments, and, one way or another, you somehow ended up talking about shampoos. Yes, shampoos.

“Honestly, I think 2 in 1 are gross” Alex says, spinning around in his chair while still keeping an eye on the running chat. You were sitting next to him in your usual simple wooden chair that he usually stole from his kitchen. It wasn’t much, and you could feel your thighs getting painted with the hard design of your seat, but it feels very homy, heart warming in its simplicity.

Yet, as comfortable and happy as you felt, you really couldn’t help spatting out the comment that had been dancing dangerously on the tip of your tongue, begging to be freed.

“And what would you know about it you bald fuck”.

Silence filled the room.

.

.

.

You start to grow worried you stepped over the line as you shoot guilty side-glances at him, trying to evaluate whether he was or wasn’t okay with your stupid joke. His spinning was getting gradually slower, and his eyes wide and open jaw came to view.

You’re able to let out a silent sigh of relief as Alex’s face sinks into a, clearly exaggerated, offended pout.

“Have you heard them?? Defend me Aksel what the hell” he cries dramatically, his mindless spinning coming at a halt to stare into the soul of his screen, specifically at the man that is lightly grinning right back at him.

“I mean.. they’re kinda right man..” he mutters in his typical monotone voice, barely holding back an amused snicker.

Alex’s look of betrayal was probably the funniest shit you had seen in a while.

“Why are you two ganging up on a Mexican guy huh??”

“Awww the Mexican card? No better come back??” you laugh smugly, your face screaming “triumph” as he gawks at you.

“You truly found your match” Aksel laughs, adjusting his bucket hat as he leaned down on his office chair.

“Shut the fuck up” he mumbles before looking away from you with a huff.

Oh God does he love you.

Moving on though, these were harsh years for him, so he needs lots of love and support from his partner

I think it’d be too soon to have full on cuddling sessions, but i see him loving your touch, especially if it’s something domestic like a simple hug or a little caress down his back

Not really into PDA either, but he would find comfort in holding your hand whenever he’s tense or even just cold

It’s a reminder you are still by his side despite all of his flaws and insecurities, you chose him

(Ended up being way longer than I intended but had fun :D sorry for the long wait :( I had two very stressing weeks in the middle of writing this)

[melodic-haze]

remote vibrator in public w sub robin?? 👀

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Robin x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Exhibitionism, mentions of corruption, semi-public sex mentions at the end

☆ — NOTES: Wait I didn't even realise I had essentially already done this oh my god 😭😭😭😭😭😭 anyway is a cheeky Robin ooc I wonder if it is..........my bad gang I actually haven't finished Penacony yet 😭 ik like spoilers

Such a move spells TROUBLE for a universal celebrity like her.............good thing she likes the trouble you put her through ☺️

You've seen how she dedicates herself to her multimedia craft, putting her all into performing arts for the sake of inspiring people and making everyone happy. Now, you want to see how she does with.......performing for a different reason :3

"Such a risk would be much more trouble than it's worth, you know."

"If it's 'so much trouble', then why are you smiling like that?"

"Maybe I just find your request amusing. You know that the press are determined to spot anything that may give them a good scoop."

It's not as if Robin was wrong—a cosmically-famous figure like her would be risking the possibility of complete and utter ruination with such deviancy, along with.. well, having to face her brother. And The Family too, but mostly her brother. She had the right to be worried.

..But, well, she doesn't really seem to be worried right now, despite her words. If anything, the expression on her face as she leaned on the wall and the slight fluttering of her wings showed a different feeling.

As if she were the cat that got the cream.

"Uh huh," you leaned back on the chaise with a knowing look, eyes narrowed and arms crossed, "what I know is you're not saying no..."

She lets out a false sigh as she pushed herself off the wall to head to you, "Aw, I thought I led you off my trail."

"Like you do with the press? Oh, please." You rolled your eyes, "I know you much better than that."

"You seem so sure."

"Am I wrong?"

"Mm.. no, I guess you're not."

Then she sits down on your lap and wraps her arms around your neck, the wings on her hips wrapping themselves around the both of you like a barrier that separates you from the rest of the world, "And neither are you wrong about my lack of your refusal."

Your hands snake themselves over to your lover's waist.. before moving down further and lightly squeezing her ass, "So that's a yes?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her voice reduced to a raspy whisper, "I could never resist you, sweetheart."

"What a coincidence—I could never resist you either. Must be a Halovian thing, with that halo of yours."

"Haha, who knows."

And that leads on to your present situation: Robin, as an important member of The Family and a famous singer, was invited to a gala as a special guest. Naturally, she attended and was thankful that they allowed her to invite a plus-one. Considering that Sunday had his own invitation, you were practically the most obvious pick out of everyone she could've chosen, both because you were her most important person.......and because this was a perfect opportunity for the both of you

So here she was, clinging to your arm as you talked to some.. some random who was (unsurprisingly) one of Robin's fans, one that's REALLY obsessed with her too, apparently. And really, she wasn't sure whether to thank you for giving her a different thing to focus on or silently plead to you somehow to cut it out, but she essentially clamped her mouth shut for most of the time you were there, not actually trusting herself to let out a coherent sentence

Not just with that one guy too, you do this through the night—your hand mostly in your pocket as you manipulated the controls of the vibrator within her, usually during inconvenient moments to mess with her a bit

During times you're left alone with her as everyone else goes to do other things and talk to other people, you taunt her of how if she doesn't hide it good enough then people miiiight start suspecting something's wrong ☺️☺️ and she wouldn't wanna ruin her career like this, would she ☺️☺️☺️☺️ oh that'd be such a huge shame ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

At first she does actually taunt you back, lightly boasting to you that it takes a lot more to faze her and that it's sweet of you to try...........but as the night progresses you find that she fires back at you less and less, your favourite songbird getting increasingly more quiet, just like how her panties are getting increasingly wetter. But she bares with it with a smile anyway, disregarding the rosy tint in her cheeks as simply applying too much blush HAHAHAHA

It's not just when you two are together either!!! You've both made sure that the toy has a big enough range that you can walk around without the connection being severed from the distance, so it was rather easy for you to manipulate it even while you were away from her. Oh, and how FUN it is, esp when you see her try to look around for you as her wings flutter restlessly

It's actually rather impressive to watch though—even when the night toiled away and it got increasingly harder for her to stop herself from cumming herself silly from sheer frustration, she keeps herself in check. It's almost as if she were completely unbothered, acting the perfect part as a beautiful socialite at a grand event as she sang with (very false) confidence. You would've been fooled......if it weren't for the fact that she had telepathised her need for you to just bend her over somewhere and fuck her dumb instead of letting her continue with this toy inside of her. You almost feel bad

Keyword: almost, especially when you decide to get braver and mess with her a liiiiittle bit more. And she would've been fine with it!!! At least, if it weren't for the fact that this was with HER FUCKING BROTHER LOL

Halovians, the musical and emotional creatures that they are, can probably communicate via special frequencies right?? At least, that's my personal hc, like you can't actually use a radio to intercept it and listen in bc it's like a Halovian-specific kinda thing that can only be read through their halos. Idk how they work lol don't sic me

Anyway through that logic, I feel like Sunday picked up signals of distress from his little sister. He's probably more sensitive to her frequencies too, with how yk. They're related. Like sharing genetic code except it's like if you look at a sound visualiser and see multiple lines at once and the Oak siblings have that one similar line or smth. So he can tell that SOMETHING is wrong with her, just not what specifically (esp when Robin's probably trying her best to block out signals of her lust from ever notifying her brother that smth more is happening)

"Are you certain you're feeling alright, Robin?" Sunday's voice held a sense of urgency and protectiveness, as expected of the one that had been there for her as the one constant before she had left Penacony, "I can tell that something is off.. and your feathers are a bit ruffled."

The worried emotions he had sent to Robin, along with a request to pry into her psychical wellbeing, didn't help the singer at all in terms of calming down—the possibility of her beloved brother becoming unwillingly privy to the fact that her inner workings are so utterly perverse and corrupted scares her. The fact that you had slowly switched the vibe's speed between an agonisingly slow pace and an upward climb as the exchange went on added to the torture.

Though compared to the rest of the night, this time actually felt like you were taking mercy on her, with the way you hadn't decided to suddenly ramp the intensity up out of nowhere.

(And there was that twisted feeling inside her that actually liked the thought of being an R-rated spectacle in front of all these people around them still threatening to take her focus away.)

To keep up the charade as she continued to block Sunday's attempts in peering into her enotions, she could only do what she did best; perform. So she nods her head with a smile, though the latter action didn't really need that much acting, "Yes, I'm feeling alright. I appreciate the concern, brother, but nothing's wrong. Perhaps it's just exhaustion—I don't know how you.. mm.. how you deal with it all the time."

"I could say the same to you," he reciprocates her smile, if a tad bit crooked from his worry, "I think it takes a lot of inner strength, to take on the attention of a universal crowd. Luckily, I know you can more than handle it."

The blue-haired sibling hummed, her smile widening from her brother's confidence, "It's because I know I have you to fall back-- on..!"

The grey-haired sibling furrowed her eyebrows in turn at the sudden yelp, "Are you quite sure you're okay..? You're worrying me, dear sister."

...

Yeah, no, she couldn't carry on such a conversation like this.

Another nod as she digs her nails into her palms in an effort to redirect her thoughts from the overflow of slick in the apex of her thighs, "Y-Yes, I'm fine... I think I just need to take a walk around to.. calm myself. I feel rather warm."

He doesn't reply immediately, leaving Robin in suspense. Could he have figured it out?

..Turns out no, as he lets out a small sigh, "Alright, just remember to tell me if something's wrong, yes? I don't want your comeback here to be an unpleasant one."

"I will, thank you."

She turns around in a hurry—though not that much of a hurry, lest he either gets more suspicious or she somehow makes the toy's effect worse—and leaves, making a beeline for you before grabbing onto your wrist and dragging you off before you could say a word (though the small smirk on your face said all you needed to say).

And Sunday clocks the two of you leaving the main hall together with a raised brow. His initial instinct is to go investigate himself—he knew better than to believe his sister's act, of course... But he thought better of it.

He had an inkling that perhaps this wasn't something he should involve himself in.

And his gut feeling was right, esp when Robin dragged you out and into the first private, empty room she found, pushed you down and started grinding onto your lap like a bitch in heat 🥰🥰🥰🥰

People are going to talk for a WHILE about your sudden disappearance, the both of you KNOW this very well, but right now? Robin doesn't gaf, not when her mind's been reduced to a horny mess as she begs you to finally get her off yourself. Whether you do or you DON'T??? Up to you LMAO

Either way, it's DEFINITELY something unforgettable........and dare I say, tellingly exposing of what your songbird likes 🫶

"Why do I deal with such risks again?"

"Because you love me?"

"..Mm. Yes, that's true."

"Wait, really? That's giving me too much power, birdie."

"And that's perfectly fine," her lips curl into a light grin, "There's nobody else I'd rather obey."

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

A/N: been gone for a hot minute due to personal circumstances but just wanted to drop a lil something (that anyone who watches Doctor Who will be able to tell I started writing a BIT ago given the references here lol) to let you guys know I’m still kickin it <3

warnings: slight hint at an age gap but nothing specific

A Smile

You can imagine the rest of the team would be floored to hear that Spencer has actually exchanged texts with you on a multitude of occasions, outside of professional settings. Numbers were swapped on your first day, naturally, and to begin with you only dared text Spencer if you had absolutely no other choice (if another member of the team could text him, you’d busy yourself to ensure they would, rather than ask you, to save you the embarrassment). But, ever since the first occasion that you texted Spencer a random question out of hours - regarding trivia you definitely hadn’t spent a concerning amount of time deciding on before you sent it to him - you have formed a bond that’s unspoken beyond typed words.

You: so, are you looking forward to the 60th Anniversary? :P

As you hit send, you roll onto your bed, grinning giddily down at your phone. In no more than a few seconds, your screen tells you that your beloved genius is already typing back to you, and within a minute, you receive the paragraph you’d anticipated.

Spencer: Absolutely. The revival of Russel T. Davies’ era, coupled with the return of Murray Gold’s legendary scores, are sure to ignite the spark of nostalgia that the show has been missing for some time. In particular, I am looking forward to seeing how Russel will format this new regeneration of the Doctor, and how many references to his predecessors will decorate the anniversary episodes, especially. I take it you are excited for the anniversary episodes, too, hence the question?

His formality and enthusiasm being conveyed in a way that is so distinctly Spencer, even over text, is enough to have you giggling. You know by now that if you ask something about one of Spencer’s interests, whether it be facts, statistics, generalized trivia, questions, literature, Star Trek or, in this case, Doctor Who, there is no way he can downplay his excitement.

You: knew it! :D and yeah, I'm super excited!!

Mostly, you are thrilled by the thought of discussing the episodes at great length with Spencer for weeks after they’ve aired, but you keep that safely in the subtext of your conversation.

Spencer: Of course you knew. Perhaps we could share a live commentary on the anniversary episodes, if we’re not otherwise engaged with a case?

Only Spencer Reid can make your heart stop with a suggestion like that. Before you can consider any consequences, you are frantically typing back to him.

You: I’d love that! will the commentary be by text or call?

He is typing the moment your message reaches him, his ability to read at what you consider to be the speed of light making for a wonderfully speedy texting partner in every conversation you have.

Spencer: Either is fine, but if we aren’t away on a case, I must admit the idea of experiencing the episodes together in person would be most preferable. It eradicates the risk of our viewings not being synced up or our call connection potentially spoiling the immersion. What do you think?

And just like that, he’s stopped your heart again. In fact, you truly have to consider whether Spencer Reid has figured out a means of reaching through his phone to yours, to snatch your heart right out of your chest. As though he hadn’t already stolen it on the day you met.

You: I think you’re right, like always, Doctor Reid :P

That’s a rational reply, you think. Not too eager. Not the resounding ‘yes’ that every fiber of your being is screaming. In the chess game that is how-to-text-Spencer-Reid, you have marked yourself as the queen. He’d tell you that’s not how chess works, but he’d probably also agree.

Spencer: I’m far from right “always”, but I very much appreciate that you think so.

You’re about to reply, when another text appears on your screen.

Spencer: (:

Doctor Spencer Reid has double-texted you. And, not only that, he’s sent you a smiley face. This is unprecedented. Your jaw drops.

You: omg you did not just send that

Honestly, your life is flashing before your eyes as you lie on your bed. Is this the power of your influence? Could you truly indoctrinate older men into sending emojis? Could this really be you?

Spencer: I most certainly did. I’ll even do it again.

Spencer: (:

He had to send it as a separate text. He couldn’t just add the smiley face to the end of his original message. No, of course he couldn’t.

You: omg who are you!!

You’re laughing now. Actually, properly laughing at the ridiculousness of this situation. Wait until Penelope hears about this.

Spencer: I don’t think these suit me very much, but they are fun. What about this one - 🙂

This is going too far. You’ve played God. You’ve flown too close to the sun. You’ve created a monster in the form of Spencer Reid using emojis while still being so formal. Still, you can’t deny that this is perhaps the funniest conversation you have ever had, with anyone, specifically because it perfectly demonstrates the unique humor shared between the two of you.

You: woah! careful! don’t push it, genius!!

And, in response to that, Spencer Reid is left with a philosophical question he has never before pondered: how does one convey sincere laughter via text? This reply takes him the longest, because he has to consider it very carefully. He wants it to indicate how funny he did find your message, and does find you, in general. He wants it to be obvious in its intent and impossible to misunderstand. So, after four minutes, you receive a text that has you laughing so hard you very nearly fall off of your bed.

Spencer: Haha.

Sometimes, that’s simply how your text conversations with Spencer end. While he does, generally, prefer a more traditional ending in the form of a goodnight text (that he actually makes the effort to sign off with a “- Spencer x”, like it’s a handwritten letter), he enjoys the nuances of an open end, on the basis it means a conversation with you doesn’t have to end. Only has to pause, temporarily, until one of you picks it back up again. There is something poetic, Spencer thinks, to the notion of you being his constant both in metaphor and literally in a text conversation that isn’t formally closed. That door is left open to you, much like the door to his heart is.

And that night, he closes his eyes with a smile on his face at the thought of you, everything you are, everything you make him feel. Everything that makes you, you, and how that makes you everything to him.

A text could never truly convey the heaven that you bring to him by existing, but just like proposing plans to watch Doctor Who with you, it’s a good place to start.

[ktsumu]

A CHILDHOOD BEDROOM tw: allusions to divorce/his family dynamic, holiday comfort for the soul

Ushijima’s bedroom is nothing like the one you share. 

His walls are bare, save for a few frames with pictures that are older than the two of you. There’s a bulletin above his desk that’s naked down to the cork, a few tacks littering it at random.

He has his dresser, a small mirror on the wall hanging above it. The room is nearly devoid of colour aside from beige and navy, but the Christmas lights from the house across the street give it some red and green. Not much, but it’s good enough.

You walk along the perimeter of the room, the floors cold, hands tracing over his desk and chair. He watches you from the doorway, the door closing softly behind him as he does. You hear the same floor creak beneath his feet as he crosses to his bed, the frame sighing under his weight.

A print-out picture of him and a redhead (Satori, he’s mentioned) standing side-by-side in school uniforms is framed on said desk, thumbs up on all four of their combined hands. A team in maroon stands tall beside it, and he’s dead center. A three-person family — father, mother, boy — takes up the space beside that, the frame much more sophisticated than the others. He looks about ten.

The clock on his wall tells the time wrong; it hasn’t been reset since he graduated and moved out at eighteen. It looks like it’s a few hours behind, but it’s really telling you time six years back. 

“Your walls are so bare,” you comment, turning back to look at him where he’s sat. He offers an almost unnoticeable, lopsided smile. “Where are all the medals, huh? I’ve heard big things about Ushiwaka the Great, you know.”

You’re joking, but he answers, “In my drawer.”

(You check; it’s full of them.)

Ushijima watches you hold them, looking at all of the engravings before setting them back, the years stretching further back the deeper that you dig. It’s like your chest is swelling with pride over things he won before you knew him. 

“What is it?” he asks, eyes following you as you cross over to his bed, sitting down to face him. His brows furrow, leaning his back against the headboard that looks so comically small; then his lips tug up at the sight of gold around your neck. His teenage pride rests on your chest.

There is something so invasive about a childhood bedroom, about wearing what once was his entire life as he looks at it — a whole life you didn’t have the chance to watch lays itself out in front of you. This childhood doesn’t exist anymore (maybe it never really did) and yet you see it around you all the same. 

(It is invasive, but it is full of love. An empty room that feels so full.)

“Why doesn’t your mother display your medals in the house?” you ask, tilting your head. “Hell, my mom would’ve lined mine up in the window. And your desk is like a trophy factory.”

 “It’s not practical, I suppose.”

“So they just sit in here?”

Ushijima looks at you like he’s in thought. 

He shrugs. “Mostly,” he says, “my father has a few in California. My player portrait is on his office wall. My mother shows her affection in her own way.”

“Can we take some back home?”

“Why? They’re old.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, shrugging. “I’ll display them around the room for a bit, swap ‘em out when you rack some up this season.”

Ushijima just chuckles shortly, shaking his head as he moves down the bed, laying down flat. His feet hang off the end a bit, and the pillows are the same as they always were. “If you wish. You know I never stop you from anything.”

You hum. “God, does it echo in here?”

“Sometimes. It never used to.”

“When did it start?”

He knows when. “I’m not sure.”

You know, too. “That’s okay. Our room at home doesn’t echo, at least.”

“No, you won’t let it.”

“Never.”

Ushijima reaches out a hand, his left, and he twirls the medal you picked in his hand. You wear it still, and it looks like it gleams. His eyes flicker up to yours. 

“I love you,” you tell him. “You and your empty room.”

He sighs a laugh, one you taught him how to make, and he pulls you into his chest by the ribbon around your neck. He breathes, your head rises and falls with his chest, and the room comes alive; breathing with its maker, welcoming him home the best it can. You certainly help.

Ushijima looks at his bedroom walls, his broken clock; the house is not resetting, his parents’ old bed will always be half full and half made, but he thinks this is enough — coming back with you was enough. Now, when he leaves, he will remember a warm bed and leave to sleep in a warmer one. 

“Love?”

“Mm?”

“When we find a home we like enough to live in,” When. Not if, when. “I’d like to paint the walls with you.”

“Ooh, what colour?”

“Not white — or beige.”

You grin, angling your head up to see him. Ushijima is looking up at his clock, six years behind like he just got home from training camp, his boxes packed for the city.

(He meets you two years later.)

“Pick a swatch, baby. Just no neons.”

“Oh. I was thinking of a traffic cone orange.”

“Ha-ha.”

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 6

Sex Tape with Doctor Stephen Strange

"A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You are feeling self-concious & down on your appearance, but Stephen has an unconventional idea of how to make you realize how sexy & beautiful you really are.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - body image issues, voyeurism & exhibitionism via photo & video, dirty talk, swearing, pet names, oral sex, creampie, vaginal sex, slight daddy kink, a bit of fluff & a little angst.

You weren't even sure what had triggered your self-image issues at the moment. Honest to God, you were just sitting in bed watching a YouTube video, pursuing the sidebar recommended videos when you started comparing yourself to other people.

It didn't matter if it was just a random ad or a promo for a TV show. You started sizing yourself up to all the actresses, models, and even some normal people. No matter who it was, you felt you couldn't compare.

Your stomach was too big. Your butt was too small. You were too short. Too plain looking. Hell, sometimes you weren't even sure how you compared to average. You didn't think you were hideous, but you forever felt like the ugly duckling. Like the potential to be beautiful was there. It just never blossomed. Or, like you sabotaged being pretty by not having enough restraint to eat better or lose weight. 

For once in your life, you wanted to be the bombshell. You were too weird to be the girl next door. You always fell into the quirky/cute and funny category. People fell for you once they got to know your personality, but you knew that never once had you stopped a guy dead in his tracks across the room. 

In an effort to make yourself feel smaller, you dug around for your massive old sweatshirt. The one you wore whenever you were feeling sad. The material had piled up in places, and it was starting to get holes in others, but the super stretchy material still felt just as big and cozy as if it was brand new. The dark eggplant purple color was also somehow soothing compared to the mostly blacks and grays of your daily wardrobe.

You had settled back in, deep in your own thoughts, when your partner entered the bedroom. You had been with Doctor Stephen Strange for a while now. Long enough that you had more or less informally moved into the Sanctum. You got to spend more time with Stephen and didn't have to pay rent. It was a win-win. The only downside was that you couldn't hide from him when your inner demons reared up. 

You didn't even realize he had been talking to you as he changed out of his sorcerer's robes and into his sweats for bed. It wasn't until he sat down in front of you and lifted your chin up to look directly at him that you realized you weren't paying any attention to a thing he was saying. 

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

You hated the genuine concern on his face. He spent his days literally saving the universe, and here you were trapped inside your own spiraling thoughts. 

"Nothing is wrong."

You said it while staring down at your hands. You were never good at hiding things from Stephen when you were face to face.

"Even if I wasn't a brilliant doctor, MD, and PhD, I know that's your 'I'm sad' sweatshirt. So something is definitely wrong." 

You closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to jiggle loose the thoughts that were waying you down. Not wanting to waste Stephen's time with your shallow worries. Yeah, he was your boyfriend, but he had plenty more vastly important things to do than talk you off a self-image cliff.

"It's stupid, Stephen."

"Don't care. You've listened to me say stupid stuff plenty of times. This just makes us one closer to even."

You rolled your eyes at him, and you knew he wasn't about to give up. Stephen was the most stubborn person you had ever met. In fact, his stubbornness was part of why he pursued you for so long before you finally agreed to go out with him. If he was set on finding out what was bothering you, nothing would stop him until you told him.

So after another moment of trying to get him off the topic, you finally relented and told him what had you feeling down. Shrinking down farther into your sweatshirt as you spoke, fumbling for the right words. Letting the cozy fabric serve as its own kind of armor.

"I don't even know what got me thinking it, but I'm just feeling down on myself. That there just isn't anything about me physically that is special. I don't think I'm ugly, I just don't get why you bothered to even give me a second glance. Let alone what keeps you interested. You are the great Doctor Strange. You are so hot, Stephen, and I'm just me. I'm just plain. I'm chubby with stretch marks. You are gorgeous. You could literally be with the most beautiful women in the world."

You could see him almost flinch when you called yourself plain and that you doubted how enamored he was with you. Even if he knew it was only a passing thought, he never wanted you to question his love for you. Ever.

When it took a few moments for him to say anything in response, you immediately started to take it all back. Not wanting to drag him down into your funk with you.

"See, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm just having a bad night and -" 

Stephen cut you off with a passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that could make you forget your own name. Cupping your face in both of his hands before pulling away from your lips to place several more small kisses on your forehead and in your hairline. Gradually adjusting so he could pull you closer and wrap his arms tighter around you.

"First of all, I love you so much you don't even know. So don't think for one second I would rather be with anyone else. Second of all, I know that you don't necessarily see what I see when you look in the mirror, and you don't even have to believe me, but you are gorgeous. Do you not see that half the other guys practically trail you around like puppies? Rogers turns bright red when you smile at him, and it's a wonder Barnes and Wilson haven't followed you home like strays yet."

That made you laugh. You did know Steve had harbored a crush on you before you started dating Stephen. Tony had let that spill one night after a party. Both Sam and Bucky were such flirts all the time with everyone. Of course, they always acted sweet on you. You assumed it was just them or their way of being nice. You would have to pay better attention next time you saw them, though. Just to see. 

"If one of them does follow me home, can I keep him?" 

You squinted your eyes and pouted your lips at Stephen. You loved giving him a hard time, and he loved giving you one right back.

"Absolutely not. Even if they scratch and howl at the door all night long. I'm the only one who gets to keep strays, and that only applies to America. On a good day, maybe Parker."

You giggled and shook your head in agreement. America was definitely a great addition to your little family. It did lift your spirits a little thinking about all of that, but it still didn't leave you feeling better about yourself. 

Stephen could see the way you were picking at the skin on your hands. Like you were trying to pick away the self-consciousness or what you felt were imperfections. It was a habit he noticed you fell into when you were extra hard on yourself. So, in an effort to distract you and stop you from picking at your skin, he took one of your hands in both of his.

"Do you remember the day you held my hand the first time? Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I was terrified that you were suddenly going to realize how broken and ugly my hands are. How damaged I am, and realize just how below your own league you were dating. Still are, by the way, so maybe I shouldn't say anything. You are the sexiest most beautiful woman I have ever met, inside and out. Every inch of you is incredible and perfect to me. I thought that before you even said a word to me, and getting to know you, and falling in love with you has only made me more sure. There is no one in this universe I could ever find sexier or more special."

"Tell you what, I have an idea..." 

Stephen stood up from the bed, moving over to shut the bedroom door. Throwing the lock, too. Now that you had a teenager running about the Sanctum, it was better safe than sorry. Then, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Setting it on airplane mode as he walked back over to you.

"How about I show you what I see? Give you some actual physical proof of how beautiful you are? A picture is worth a thousand words. I imagine some more revealing, naughty photos would be worth even more."

You chuffed at him and raised a questioning brow at his suggestion. 

"Stephen, are you seriously suggesting that I let you take naked photos of me as a way of making me feel better about myself? Are you sure that isn't just gonna make you feel better?" 

His signature cheeky grin was plastered on his face, and his bright blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.

"Can't it do both? Besides, you know I've asked before for something I can enjoy when I can't have you with me, and I think you look perfect right now. Already in our bed. Already cozy and dressed for bed. Few layers to take off. This is the you I want to see when I'm not here with you."

He came over to where you were still sitting on the bed. An extra swagger in his step and a grin because of the blush you were now sporting. He started to pull teasingly at the hem of your sweatshirt with the hand he didn't have his phone in.

"Come on, take this off. I want you to see how sexy you are. I promise I will let you delete them if you want, although I certainly wouldn't mind keeping a couple for myself, but I want you to see how you look when it's just you and me. Right here, in this bed. The version of you that only I get to see, at least I do hope it's only me. A woman who puts all those supermodels and Playmates to shame. Even first thing in the morning. A goddess if one ever existed, even with bedhead and morning breath." 

Layer by layer, you let Stephen slowly strip off your clothes and arrange you on the bed. His fingers and lips adoring every new inch of skin that he exposed before proceeding to take picture after picture. Lovingly caressing every spot you deemed less than perfect. Letting him talk you through pose after pose. Some were simple and basic, normal poses. Some a bit more sultry with little left to imagine. The less clothing remained, the more bold he got with your poses. 

As your impromptu photoshoot went on, he also tried to distract you from feeling self-conscious about your body coming into view. Sometimes, by making you laugh. Sometimes, by getting a goofy look on his face as he just kind of stared at you. Almost awestruck. 

"You really have no idea how much I fantasize about you, do you? How much of my day I spend trying not to think about you? How when we first started dating, I felt like a teenager trying to control his raging hormones because all I could think of was this. What it would be like if I got the privilege to get this beautiful, incredible woman naked in my bed. That I swore if I got you here, I would never let you leave. I hate that someone ever made you feel like you are anything less than gorgeous, whether in your ratty sad sweatshirt or all dressed up. Although, this, no clothes at all, is definitely my personal favorite."

You tried not to tear up at his genuine sweetness. You could feel your cheeks blushing at his statement, too. You buried your face into the pillow you were holding before softly turning and peeking out at him from the side. Only to find him waiting for the moment you locked eyes with him to take a photo. 

In a sudden burst of confidence, you bit your bottom lip and rolled onto your back. Letting the entirety of your body be on display. Laying back and resting your head on the pillow and stretching your arms up overhead, your legs spreading on their own. You closed your eyes and arched your back as you inhaled deeply. Like you were a cat basking in the warmth of the sun. 

Your mind was completely clear of all thought until you heard a stuttered breath from your lover. It was a sound you had never heard Stephen make before. It sounded like he was looking at a priceless piece of art or one of the seven wonders. He sounded like he was in awe. Like he was in awe at the sight of your body and your beauty.

You were about to dismiss his, what you were sure had to be, over embellished praise, but then you opened your eyes. You were rendered speechless by the look of utter wonder on his face as he let his cerulean blue eyes wash over every inch of you. For possibly the first time, you saw him really seeing you, and it melted any remaining self-doubt you had in that moment.

You immediately reached out to pull Stephen to you. Wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly. Rubbing your nose against his and whispering loving thanks against his lips.

"Thank you, Stephen. I love you, and even though I don't necessarily see what you see, you always make me feel beautiful. Why don't we take a few pictures together, or maybe a video or two? Maybe I want something for when you aren't here too." 

Stephen's eyes darkened at the suggestion. You had your suspicion that Stephen had a bit of an exhibition kink. You had sent each other pics before, a short video clip or two, and sexted all the time. You knew the idea of filming the two of you fucking would intrigue him. A wicked smile found it's way to his face. 

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how many times I've thought of you asking that or that I've thought of asking. Are you really okay with filming us fucking? Of course it's just for the two of us. Sorcerer's honor. " 

Stephen started trying to fiddle with the phone, trying to figure out the best way to set it up to film the two of you. Finding it hard to concentrate after you started leaving kisses on his neck. Stopping to bite and suck at the spot just below his earlobe before continuing to whisper his darkest desires in his ear.

"Well, Stephen, actually the idea does get me a little hot. Maybe if the video turns out really good, a few seconds or minutes can get leaked to a naughty site or two. Anonymously, of course. I don't want to share you with any other woman, but I wouldn't mind showing off all the ways I worship you. Let everyone see how lucky I am. Maybe get some outside opinions of how we look together." 

Stephen's eyes practically rolled back in his head at the thought. He never would suggest it himself, but he kind of loved the sound of that. Of the world getting to see how good the two of you looked together. Of seeing how well you both fit together. How your bodies were made for each other.

He scrambled off the bed using the pile of books on the dresser to create a tripod to set up the phone. Hitting record and making sure the bed was centered in the frame before coming back to join you in the sheets again. He used his magic to strip himself of his clothes. If you two were going to make a sex tape, he was gonna put some extra showmanship in it.

You couldn't help but giggle as you reach your arms out towards him. Stepben didn't waste a minute before he started crawling up your body. Teasing and nipping at your bare skin and making sure to snuggle and rub his goatee against you. Your hands immediately grabbed in his dark brown hair, loving how soft and full it felt in your fingers. 

As your lips connected, you both groaned in pleasure. Your bodies grinding and rubbing. Letting your hands roam all over Stephen's body now that you had plenty of him to touch. You could feel Stephen's cock already erect between you. Truth be told, taking those photos of you had essentially acted as foreplay for him. He was ready to go by the time he was setting up the camera. 

You moaned when you felt his hard shaft slide against the crease of your hip, so close to your sex that was starting to ache for him. Your legs reflexively spread even more on the large bed, and your nails scraped down Stephen's sides. 

"Is there something you want, baby? Tell Daddy what you need."

A sly smile on his face as he spoke. Loud enough to make sure the camera heard. Descending back on you and starting to kiss your neck. Sucking a patch or skin into his mouth hard enough to ensure you would bear a mark the next day.

Your brain finally coming back into focus when he playfully bit the same sensitive spot. His bright blue eyes met yours, and he gave you a cheeky wink. 

"Come on, pretty baby. Don't get all shy on me now. Not after you let me take all those naughty pictures of you. Plus, this part was your idea, after all. So you better speak up."

A soft groan pulled from your throat as you arched your back and ran your hands up his strong arms. Letting your fingernails scrape along his shoulders. Leaving little red scratches marking him as yours. 

"Want you, Stephen. Want you to fuck me. Pretty please, Stephen. Fuck me like only you can, baby."

He rewarded you with a deep kiss, letting his teeth nip at your bottom lip before he started working his way down your neck. Stopping to whisper a "that's my good girl" in your ear before continuing down to your collarbones. Raising his voice once again so it would be audible on the video when he started speaking again.

"You know you are the only one I want to fuck right? This is the only body that gets me this fucking hard. Your's is the only pretty little pussy I dream about filling up every chance I get. Want you full of my cum all the time. Want everyone to know you're mine." 

You felt over the moon as Stephen started to kiss his way down your body. Stopping and spending a little bit of extra attention every time he hit a spot that elicited a gasp or moan. Making you arch your back to give him access to every inch of bare skin you could.

He momentarily popped back up to kiss your lips. Suddenly taking your hand in his and lowering it so you were cupping his hard length. Letting his hips rut forward as you started to eagerly massage his hard cock. Already moving to sit up, anticipating taking him in your mouth, only for him to push you back down on the bed.

"Nope, I'm not done with you, baby, lay back. Just wanted you to feel how hard you got me. Feel how much taking those naughty photos of you turned me on? And they are all mine to enjoy, just like my cock is all yours to enjoy."

With that, he promptly began working his way back down your body. Coming to rest between your thighs, pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Leaving small nips on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh and rubbing his facial hair against your skin to tease you.

A soft "Stephen, please!" escaped from your lips as you impatiently waited for his lips and tongue to work their magic on you. Feeling your hips thrust on their own when you felt him blow against your wet cunt. Making your sex flutter and clench. One of his favorite sights. 

"Make sure you don't hold back any of those pretty noises darling, want to make sure everyone can hear. Look at the camera as I eat you out, baby." 

You followed his instructions and let your head turn to the side. Keeping your eyes open as you stared into the lens. Trying to fight the inkling of self-consciousness tugging at the back of your mind. 

Those thoughts vanished completely the moment you felt Stephen's warm tongue make its first pass through your folds. All you could focus on was the feeling of his mouth on you. The scratch of his goatee against your most sensitive spots. He was taking his time. Lavishing your cunt with long licks and sucking kisses.

Stephen was a perfectionist, and that translated into every aspect of his life. Including sex. His photographic memory helping to make sure he knew exactly what way to lick and suck at your pussy to bring you to climax in record time. Only using his fingers on occasion. He could get you there with his mouth alone. Tonight was clearly going to be one of those nights.

Your back arched as he suckled on your clit. Keeping your gaze locked on the camera lens. Making sure to give Stephen the sights and sounds he wanted for your video. A long moan falling when you felt his tongue thrusting in and out of you. Hitching your legs up higher and farther apart so he could go deeper while letting your hips start to rut against his face.

As soon as he could feel you getting close to orgasm, Stephen pulled away and pounced on you once again. Wasting no time before he started to slowly thrust his hard cock into you. His lips biting at your neck.

He growled when you whimpered at the feeling of his cock bottoming out inside you. Holding perfectly still and letting you start to squirm beneath him. Wanting you to beg him to move. 

"Tell me what you want. Want you to say it again. Say it to the camera, sweetheart. Tell them why you're whimpering."

Your face now contorted into a pout as you tried so hard to get any sort of friction. Stephen's hips pushed flush to yours, holding you firmly in place.

"Want you to fuck me, Stephen. Need you to fuck me hard. Make me feel good, daddy. Please make me cum. Please."

He smiled and kissed you deeply. Bringing his hands to cup your face and giving you another moment of sweet intimacy before he gave you what you wanted. Pulling away and pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Scooting you just a little so the camera would be able to see his cock stretching and filling you. Once he had you right where he wanted you he began thrusting. 

"You asked for it, sweetheart. You turn me on so fucking much. This is just gonna be the first time I make you cum tonight. I'm not gonna stop until you feel like a goddess. My goddess." 

You reached up to intertwine you fingers with his as he started fucking you harder. Leaning forward so your ass was slightly lifted up off of the bed and his tip was pummeling that sweet spongy spot on your front wall. Making you clench around him each time he hit it. Your voice coming out in little squeaks and the sound of skin slapping punctuating Stephen's movements. 

You could already feel your orgasm building when Stephen moved to bring one hand down to begin rubbing at your clit. Pulling his cock out long enough to smear some of your wetness on the swollen bundle of nerves. Your cunt immediately clenching around him as he started tracing small circles there with his thumb. 

"That's it, my love. Can feel you getting close. You better cum soon because I'm not gonna be able to hold on much longer. Wanna fill you up every day. Mark you as mine. Inside and out. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum."

Stephen's own dirty talk getting the best of him. His head dropping down to watch his cock slamming in and out of your drenched cunt. Your pussy gripping tight around him sending him over the edge. His thrusts getting faster and his fingers on your clit mirroring his hips.

He let out a deep groan as he started cumming inside you. The feeling of his warm thick cum filling you triggering your own orgasm. Your cunt drenching his cock and his cum filling you completely. Your moans mingling in harmony with Stephen's. Your hands that were still clasped gripping each other tighter. 

Stephen's body falling onto yours and your lips meeting for slow, sweet kisses as your highs continued to ebb and flow. The sensations slowly fading as you came back down together. The feeling of Stephen's weight on top of you lulling you closer to sleep. All worries and neuroses disappearing and receding back into the depths of your mind. 

You were with Stephen, and Stephen loved you exactly as you were. He only had eyes for you, and he would love you no matter what. Even on days when you couldn't see your beauty, you knew he would help you to see it. Even when you didn't love yourself, he would give you enough love for both of you.

Eventually, Stephen rolled to the side and pulled you with him. Settling you under the covers and holding you close. Pressing kisses all over your face as you floated in the twilight space between waking and sleep. Not moving or pulling away until your breath settled into a steady rhythm that told him you were close to sleep.

Then Stephen stood up and went over to the phone. Stopping the recording and bringing the phone back over to the bed. Setting it down on his nightstand and purposely not setting his usual morning alarm. He wanted to sleep in with you tomorrow. He would deal with Wong later.

You were too exhausted to review the products of your photoshoot right now, but the next time you were feeling down or self-conscious, Stephen would be ready to show you just how beautiful you really were. If you still didn't believe him, maybe he would bring up the idea of an outside opinion like you suggested. You would have the world drooling over you, and he would get to gloat that you were all his.

--------------------------------

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Stephen Strange Taglist: @starkiller-queen @glitterylokislut @verycollectivecreator @chatampr @maskmare931 @lovecleastrange @wheredafandomat @mkixx @evelynrosestuff @katefullerrr @littlepinknightmare @foofarny @stygianoir @moonroyalt @saturnsbabe69 @blaxdet @blackrose-92 @ironstrange1991 @ghxul-x @nancy-thompsons @wolfatheartandsoul @dangerouslittlefairy @n0obmaster-69 @oliveoilthoughts @onebatch--twobatch @yourmajesty13 @blondekel77 @lil-sweater-slut @gwephen @taramaria @sinceimetyou @slashersrus @coeurgrenaty @cc13723things @just--a-magpie @supervengerslock @strangelockd @dont-feel-so-good-peter @kingsmanperfecthartwin @ghost-lantern @inlovewithloki16 @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @itssmaugtheterrible @katherinemaximoff @veryfancydoilies @cute-angi @mochacake2016 @prix19 @alexfanficnook @anotheroddfish @namor-is-the-way @xourownsidee @baes-x @dreamingsmile @negar77rd @imaginesfreetotake @ppatricia34me @rougepetale @tis-vereon @divinearchangel @sherlux @hiddlechive @ginnykate @thatesqcrush @friendofplenti @yuugenmomo @holdmyowos @the-royal-petals @lokislov3 @captaincarmel164 @lucimorningst4r @mydearalmira @petalcranberry @singhfae @emotionsareforuglypeople @trappedinlimbo15 @veryladyqueen @icytrickster17 @kentucky-criedfricken @briefhandsstudenttoad @calamityismyspecialty @sinisterstrange616 @patbrdac @trojanaurora @azu21 @massivehahaao3tree @strangesgirls @tobios-shawty @evelyn-kingsley @rmoonstoner

[yournightmary]

Streamer!Ellie HCs

content warning:: fem!reader, modern!AU, mentions of getting hurt

AN:: Another headcannons, who would’ve thought? Streamer!Ellie was literally the reason I started writing. Enjoy :)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who started streaming as a joke. Jesse was already a streamer and he constantly said she’d be good at it, so why not?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who at first had such a shitty setup. No webcam, mic barely working and her PC couldn’t handle minecraft with shaders.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who randomly went from 30 viewers average to almost 10k one day. Just blew up overnight.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who gets canceled at least once a week. She just says dumb shit without thinking and has to apologize after. and people are just fucking weird.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who lives off of snacks and won’t eat a proper meal if you don’t cook anything. She’s just always on that grind😎🔥

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who’s entire personality on camera is just a character. Screams and throws herself off of her chair on camera but goes non verbal every time she’s in private.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who mostly streams games, especially minecraft & fortnite. She might make an irl stream once in a blue moon, but don’t expect it to be good.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who loves her community and wants to talk to them more often but always ends up swearing and arguing with random people in chat.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who gets copyright strikes and warnings from twitch admins almost every stream. Most of the times she doesn’t even know what she did wrong.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who keeps your relationship a secret. She’s scared you’d get a ton of hate. (You would) ((Streamer fanbases are awful))

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who buys the most random things she can ‚for the lulz’. Whether it’s for her streaming room or bedsheets, she’s buying the weirdest option. (This made me think of her)



⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who is definitely a hey mamas girl.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who majorly fucked up and showed her personal instagram account (with your pictures) by accident. Her following went up by 10k almost instantly and she ended up deleting it:/

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who after that mistake took a hiatus for almost 3 weeks. I mean- logged out of every account she had and didn’t check any socials for that time.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who came back to streaming thinking she’d get all the hate in the world but people were just joking that ‚she’s too much of a loser to have a pretty girlfriend’.

they were also surprised she was lesbian. She never talked about her private life on stream, not even once.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ In my mind she’s the female version of 2019/2020 Quackity. Is he still relevant? idk

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who jokes about selling feet pics and bath water a little too often for your liking.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who once did a handstand for a 100 bucks. Ended up breaking her arm in two places and she couldn’t play games for almost two months.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who gets hurt on stream so often she got flagged for self harm. Apologized on twitter though:)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who definitely thinks loud=funny.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who finds out she’s in some kind of drama every single time she opens twitter. It’s always for something stupid too, like saying she’d win in a fight against some random streamer and their fanbase gets pissed.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who feels bad about having nice things so she just buys you a ton of gifts. Gotta spend that streamer money somehow🤑

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who showed you on stream once and the chat went crazy. People made edits of the 10 seconds you were on screen. Ellie watched all of them.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who streams cutting her hair every few months. She says ‚she’s cooking’ while chat drags her through mud.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who streams so much she started saying ‚chat’ in real life, even when she’s alone. Always gets embarrassed about it and apologizes.

Can you tell I was a dsmp kid during quarantine?

[jgracie]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ CALL ME MAYBE?

↳ part one!

ferrari driver!percy jackson x fem!reader

masterlist | rules

on the radio . . . call me maybe (carly rae jepsen)

an i remembered i wrote that other blurb and so i decided to write a part 2 for it!!!

"y/n, you have to call him!" your friend said for the nth time as you started down at the number you typed into the keypad on your phone app, ready for you to hit that bright green call button

ever since you told her about what happened between you and the mystery man the two of you now dubbed PJ, she'd been begging you to call him - mostly because she was mad you passed up the opportunity to get free formula one tickets, but also because to her, this was a 2000s romcom in the making. you personally didn't see it, since he was just some rich guy you drove home one night, nothing more. she, however, was convinced this was the universe delivering your soulmate to you

huffing, you turned around on your bed, now laying on your back and staring at the ceiling, your phone no longer in your hand and instead right next to you. rookie mistake

as soon as she saw that you let go of your phone, your friend grabbed it and called the number you’d typed in. you were too busy thinking about whether or not to call PJ to notice this happening, only snapping out of your thoughts once he’d already picked up and your friend had begun talking

“oh, i’m layla! but this isn’t my phone, i’m talking from my friend’s phone!” your jaw dropped as you watched her converse with your mystery man - you didn’t think he’d actually pick up if you did decide to call

meanwhile, percy was confused. he was pretty good at hiding personal information, how did a fan manage to find his personal phone number? he wracked his brain for an explanation when the memory of that night hit him like a truck

"wait, are you the one who drove me home?" he asked, his heart beating as fast as the ferrari car he was known for

"no, that would be my friend, y/n!" layla replied, grinning and wiggling her eyebrows at you, "oh, you wanna talk to her? sure!" despite your protests, she put percy on speaker before handing you the phone. you opened your mouth but nothing came out. luckily, percy decided to start the conversation for you

"hi, i'm glad you saw the paper i left in your car. what took you so long?" he asked, a smile making its way onto his lips. it had been a week since he took his chances with you and every day that passed without a call from a mystery number made him more and more worried that you hadn't seen the slip of paper or, even worse, you didn't care to call

you giggled, and percy wished he had this call recorded so he could go back and listen to that sound forever, "sorry, i was really nervous, to be completely honest. its not every day some random guy jumps into your car in the middle of the night, gets you to drive him home and then leaves his number in your car."

percy's eyebrows furrowed at your use of the phrase 'random guy'. when you hadn't acted as a fan usually would, he assumed you either were too frightened to recognise him or that you were pretending to be oblivious out of politeness

"wait... do you not know who i am?" he asked. he hated sounding arrogant, but he couldn't help it - meeting someone who liked you for you and not the money or fame was very rare for a guy like percy

"no? am i supposed to? you didn't introduce yourself or anything, i just know your initials are PJ..." you mumbled, hoping you didn't forget anything from your interaction as it'd be awfully embarrassing

"it's fine," he replied, "i'm percy jackson—" before he could continue, layla, who'd been listening to your conversation the entire time, gasped and snatched the phone from your hands

"like the f1 driver percy jackson? is that why you offered her tickets? can we still get them?" she bombarded the poor guy with questions then, turning to you, she said, "why didn't you tell me the guy you drove home was the percy jackson? i showed you pictures of him before, you should've known!"

taking your phone back from her, you said, "do i look like i'd remember the name and face of some guy who drives cars for a living?" then, you left your room and headed to the kitchen, deciding that was enough humiliation for one day

"i'm sorry about her, she's like, a huge fan of yours," you said, hoping this didn't ruin the slim chances you had with percy. to your surprise, he laughed. before hearing this, you didn't think it was possible for a mere laugh to make you blush

wiping a stray tear from his eye, percy said, "its alright, i'm used to it... just a guy who drives cars for a living, though? i'm hurt, y/n. i thought we built a special connection that night!"

you rolled your eyes and smiled at this, "you'll need to do a lot more than get me to drive you home to build a connection with me, car boy."

"okay then, where do you live?" he asked, catching you off-guard, "let me drive you somewhere this time, i am the professional after all."

well, maybe layla was right all along

[idleoblivion]

"A Dangerous Muse" Jade Leech x GN Reader

Synopsis: You found him so pretty, it was hard not to get inspired. Still, it felt a little creepy to sketch him without permission. But it’s fine as long as he doesn’t find out, right?

Word Count: ~1.5k

A/N: This was supposed to be like maybe 500 words idk what happened

Warnings: Lots of teasing (I mean, it's Jade), brief Floyd cameo

Your secret wasn’t a particularly bad one, it was mostly just embarrassing. When he sat with his brother and Azul at lunch, when you could catch him during his shift at the lounge, and if you just happened to spot him at random around campus, you would take almost any chance to draw Jade in your sketchbook. They were usually just sketches of him looking poised and gentlemanly as he did whatever task he had taken up at the time. Occasionally though, you caught him being slightly more expressive, smiling in a way that showed his pointed teeth and made his eyes wrinkle. You were more than a little embarrassed of how well you had learned the details of his face, and by the dozen or more pages you’d already filled up with drawings of him. Something about him just felt naturally alluring and intriguing to you, he made the perfect muse.

Right now, you’re sitting at a table in the lounge trying to look like you're studying and not waiting for the appearance of a certain eel. You picked a seat off to the side by yourself like usual to not draw any attention. You were pretty sure you had overheard him in the halls earlier say he was working this afternoon, so it was odd to you that he hadn’t shown up yet. You pull your sketchbook out while you wait and look through some of your previous works. You sigh looking at one of them where you were especially proud of how you captured the mischievous look that he had been wearing, with a predatory glint in his mismatched eyes that-

…Was incredibly similar to the way he was looking at you right now.

You hadn’t seen him enter from the front door or kitchen, he seemingly materialized out of thin air. But he was there now, walking past the other patrons at their tables and headed towards your own. You hurriedly shut your sketchbook and try your best to act casual.

“Oya, what a surprise seeing you here, prefect. Are you here to try our new menu?” His eyes still have a dangerous look to them, and he not so subtly steals a few glances at your sketchbook.

“No actually, I just got done studying. I was getting ready to leave.” You try to grab your sketchbook and leave before he has time to question you further, but his hand reaches out and sits on top of it first.

“Oh, you’re already done? Are you sure? I could take a look at what you’ve been working on and assist you if you need.” He has a knowing smirk on his face that immediately increases your anxiety. His hand is still resting on top of the sketchbook.

“Uh, that won’t be necessary. I can’t afford to be making deals right now and-”

“Why, who said anything about a deal? Can’t I want to help you simply out of the goodness of my heart?” He feigns an innocent expression that you don’t trust in the slightest.

Before you can retort, he grabs the sketchbook off the table and moves to open it. You nearly lunge out of your seat to try and grab it from him but he seems to anticipate it and holds it behind his back, out of your reach. He smiles again at your panicky face.

“Oya, what’s this? Is there something private in this book of yours? I thought you were supposed to be just studying?” 

“I-I was, I just don’t want you doing anything to my notes, I worked hard on them.” His eyes narrow but his smile widens. “Yes, I’m sure you did. I promise I won’t compromise your work, I only intend to look.”

He pulls the sketchbook in front of him again, and you have to resist the urge to attempt to snatch it immediately. He steps forward until he’s too close, in your personal space. You try to back up only to find he has you caught between him and the table. He really leans in, his face only a few inches from you and you feel your cheeks heating up at the unexpected proximity.

“You’re sure all I’m going to find in here is notes, hm?”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to find another excuse to get you out of this. Him being so close to you certainly isn’t helping you get your thoughts together. He takes advantage of your shocked state and finally opens it to the page you’d been on.

“W-wait, Jade you can’t-”

“My, what’s all this~?”

He holds the book out of your reach again while he flips through the pages. You don’t even move to stop him this time, accepting your humiliating fate. You look away from him in your shame, which makes you miss the way his eyes light up as he skims over your work.

“...You’re certainly a skilled artist, I’ll give you that.” You force yourself to look back at him and gauge how upset at you he is, but his demeanor offers you no clues to what his mood really is. “I’m no critic, but I can appreciate how detailed your drawings are. You must have studied me very intently, no?”

“I…um, I guess? I just draw you whenever I see you around. I’m sorry, I know that’s-” “Why me?” You’re caught off guard by that question, and he repeats, “Why me? There are a plethora of other students you could draw, but as far as I saw, I appear to be your only subject. Why is that?”

Well, there’s no point in lying to him, and you were already so mortified, what’s a little more humiliation?

“You’re really pretty.”

For the very first time, you see Jade look almost dumbstruck. Only for a brief moment though, as his face almost immediately changes to something much more intense. You almost think he’s upset until you realize he’s looking at you with the same face he made at his terrariums, or when he cultivated a new species of mushroom. He was intrigued, you had his full attention and interest and the weight of it was becoming overwhelming the longer he stared at you.

“You…” he trails off for a second then leans in close to you again. “It’s impressive how often you manage to surprise me.”

“I’m sorry, I still should’ve asked. I can stop, really, I will. I’m so sorry.” You spoke fast and quietly, still wishing for nothing more than a way out of this situation.

“Now, there’s no need for that. Artists need to practice regularly to improve their skills, yes? I would hate to take that away from you.” “Huh? So…you want me to keep sketching you?” “Unfortunately, Azul would have a fit if he found out I was offering you a service and not charging anything.” Of course, nothing comes for free in Octavinelle. 

“Well, what would you charge then? Madol? Would I have to wait tables here?” He laughs lightly under his breath.“No, nothing like that. I believe our little deal should be well thought out and discussed, not impulsively decided right here and now. Why don’t you meet me back here this weekend, and we’ll work something out? Just you and I of course, I’m sure we don’t need Azul to mediate. Maybe I could even have you sample some dishes from our new menu during our discussion. There would be no charge for that of course, since you’d be doing me a favor by agreeing.” 

As you look at his face to decipher his intentions, you're left even more confused. Why is he looking at you almost…fondly? And he wants to meet with you completely alone? And he’d offer you food for free? What did he mean by you meeting with him being a favor to him? Was this…a date? What exactly was he implying? He just continued watching you, with his polite and courteous persona that you can never truly read put back on. Still a bit flustered, you try and rationalize why you should or shouldn’t go, before he interrupts your thoughts one last time.

“Oh, and you’re very pretty as well.”

Your face is burning after that. You swallow the lump in your throat before you meekly respond.

“Oh, t-thanks. Um, yeah, this weekend sounds great.” He smiles with his teeth on display again. “I look forward to it, prefect.” He grabs your hand and places a chaste kiss to the back of it before offering you your sketchbook back. You take it without a word, brain completely short circuiting.

Then just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone. He left you by yourself with your own racing thoughts and heart and headed towards Azul’s office. You quickly gather yourself and get ready to leave. On your way out the door, you suddenly spot Floyd watching you with an amused smirk. He makes some kissy faces and noises at you teasingly and points toward the office where Jade is. Your face gets hot all over again and you rush out of the lounge, hearing Floyd cackle at you as you hurry away.

[qqueenofhades]

Good Omens Season 2: Some Thoughts (and also Screaming)

First, /screams

Second, obligatory disclaimer that this meta contains MAJOR SPOILERS for all six episodes. If you somehow have managed to remain virginally unspoiled, look away now, scroll past, or add "good omens s2" and "good omens spoilers" to your block list, as those are the tags I have been using for all posts and reblogs.

Third, /screams more

Okay okay okay. Deep breaths.

Anyway, so, uh, how about all that, huh? First, the good thing about the tone of the season overall was that it felt considerably darker and more adult, in a good way. We didn't have the precocious kiddies, the kitsch and literally-comphet Anathema and Newt, the so-clever narration, etc. All that was gone, which makes sense when you consider that a) the end of last season saw them reboot into an entirely new universe, and b) the fact that God has gone silent is, in fact, a major plot point for the season. We don't have Her slyly telling us the story, or indeed anything, and everyone is left to make their own judgments and take their own actions. Which, obviously, gets them into a lot of trouble, especially when Metatron (the Voice of God, aka someone acting in the belief that they're speaking for God and therefore doing terrible harm) swoops in with the ultimate buzzkill at the end of episode 6. But we'll get to that.

The downside was that the main, present-day plot (hiding Gabriel in the bookshop and trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love) was fairly thin, felt stretched out and at times weirdly paced, and otherwise existed mostly to get us to That Ending and the setup for season 3. But the ending was so damn good (if obviously, very painful) that I can't be TOO mad, not least because we spent six episodes with them just making absolutely no pretense about the whole thing being as incredibly homosexual as possible. I'll be honest: I did not think they were going to actually, explicitly go there. Neil Gaiman has been so consistent about "your interpretations are valid and you're welcome to read it however you want, but the only canon is what's on screen," which I think is frankly a good thing (not least since the Neil GAYman Cinematic Universe is consistently very, very good to us queers), that I just... didn't quite think they'd pull the trigger. Sir Terry is dead and can't have active input, this is based on a book published 30 years ago, maybe they didn't want to make it LIKE THAT... etc. I certainly hoped, but I didn't really think they would.

Uh. Well.

As I said in my various semi-coherent liveblog posts, I honestly don't think there was a single straight person in the entire season, among both major and background characters. Aziraphale/Crowley and Maggie/Nina are the obvious paralleling couples, but Beelzebub (using "they" pronouns and addressed as "Lord" despite presenting as femme/femme-adjacent) is clearly nonbinary and therefore also queer, and the countless gay/queer side characters were just /chefs kiss. From Job's son making a sassy pass at Aziraphale, to the random Scottish goon with Grindr on his phone (which he then gives to Aziraphale, because what is subtlety), to the interracial couple with the trans spouse at the Pride and Prejudice ball, there was just a lot of casual, unremarked, non-story-critical queer representation visible at every turn. It's like the NGCU saw the bigots wailing about Sandman season 1 being extremely gay and went CHALLENGE ACCEPTED, LET'S MAKE GOOD OMENS 2 EVEN MORE GAY.

God bless.

Obviously, Jon Hamm as Amnesia!Gabriel stole the show (he was SO fucking funny) and it was also incredibly fun to watch Miranda Richardson repurposed as a scheming demon. Nina Sosanya also reappeared as Nina the coffee shop owner, which leads us into the Maggie-and-Nina subplot. They're obviously, wildly, incredibly clearly an analogue for Aziraphale and Crowley themselves, but they're also each, crucially, a mix of both. On the surface, Maggie is Aziraphale: the plump, blonde, earnest, sweet-natured one owning a slightly dated book music shop and somewhat clueless about emotional nuances, while Nina is (also on the surface) Crowley, the hard-edged dark loner who doesn't want to open herself up to people or be spotted caring. But emotionally, Maggie is Crowley: the one openly pining, clearly besotted, only wanting to hang around their crush and do whatever they can to make themselves useful, while Nina is Aziraphale. Interested but reticent, attracted but conflicted, trapped in an abusive relationship with a demanding offscreen "lover" (Lindsay/Heaven) who tries to constantly control and shame them without ever offering much, if anything in return. By the end, they bring themselves around to what Maggie/Crowley are offering, but by then, well. We've got a lot more problems on our hands.

As I also said in my earlier posts, this entire thing has always been a metaphor for religion, queerness, and what religion -- especially abusive, fundamentalist, organized religion -- does to queer people, but they really cranked the FUCK out of that metaphor this season. Aziraphale is guilt-tripped, controlled, and shamed for his attraction to Crowley at every turn. He is torn between his imagined duty to Heaven, in all its ignorant, uncaring, bureaucratic, gratuitously cruel system that he still insists on seeing the best in because he can't bear the alternative, and the chaotic and sometimes grey but genuinely more good morality that Crowley offers him. (Can I just say, we were explicitly shown that the two of them together doing "just a little miracle" are more powerful than Heaven AND Hell combined.) And at the end, he's told that the only way he can be with Crowley -- what Metatron explicitly blackmails him with -- is if they both go back to heaven, submit themselves to the cruel system again and give up everything that has made them who they are: their home in London, their human friends, their reliance on each other, their independence, their own ways of doing things. You can be queer in this (religious) framework, but only the limited, watered-down, controlled, controllable, constantly-under-supervision kind of queer, which relies on both you and your lover "converting" back to the true faith. And if you don't cooperate, they will literally kidnap you, lie to you, manipulate you, take you from your soulmate, and force you right back into doing the one thing (destroying the world) that you never, ever wanted to do in the first place, because in their minds, that is still better than this. It's for your own good.

Ouch.

And the thing is: that's why the ending a) hits so hard and b) is so fucking painful, because of course Aziraphale agrees. He has no conception of being able to defy Heaven on his own; he has always, always needed Crowley for that. In the flashbacks, when Aziraphale is faced with an order from Heaven that he desperately does not want to carry out (such as letting all Job's children get killed), he still relies completely on Crowley to "outsmart the rules" and find a better way. Crowley is A Crafty Demon; that's what he does, and so Aziraphale rationalizes it to himself that therefore that must be fine. Even in season 1, when he really didn't want the Apocalypse to happen but initially thought it was his duty as a good Heaven footsoldier, he relied on Crowley to talk him out of it and allow him to do what he really wants instead. That's their whole dynamic in a nutshell, as exemplified in that scene in episode 2, where Crowley tempts Aziraphale with the "pleasures of the flesh" while sprawled on his back in Ravish Me mode like the giant walking gay disaster that he is. (Sorry, buddy. That beard. Can't do it.) Everything that Aziraphale's existence is, that makes him who he is, that he loves and cherishes the most (in this case, food and wine) comes from Crowley. Everything else is just background noise.

Throughout the season, what we see is Aziraphale increasingly coming around to the fantasy of being with Crowley. He's coy and flirty; he talks about "our car" and expects Crowley will let him (which he does); he wants to have a Jane Austen ball and for them to dance together (oh my heart); he even thinks, at the crucial moment, that the best way for them to be together is to go back to heaven just like they were in the beginning, once more perfect angels, as if those entire six thousand years of struggle and grief and pining and separation and falling didn't happen. And Crowley -- poor, poor, brave, devoted, heartbroken Crowley -- has just heard for the first time in said six thousand years that actually telling the person you love how you feel is an option. Maggie and Nina tell them point-blank that their whole stupid plan failed because people aren't chess pieces who can be moved and automatically achieve the desired result. And of course this gobsmacks the dearest and dumbest Ineffable Husbands, because they can't conceive of anything else. People are chess pieces in the Great War of Heaven and Hell; Aziraphale and Crowley themselves are chess pieces who have been desperately trying to get out of being moved by external forces, but that doesn't change the fact that that's what they are. They don't have volition or agency aside from that which they can sneak for themselves in brief and stolen moments. That's it.

Until, well. It's not it. They discover that this whole would-be war is actually an elaborate ruse to cover up another angel-demon romance, that of Gabriel and Beelzebub. (I'll be honest, I'm 99% sure they did this storyline because they saw the fans crackshipping them, but I appreciate a fictional narrative that values and incorporates its fans' input, rather than trying to constantly "trick" or "outsmart" them or "do what they don't expect.") And Gabriel and Beelzebub get to be together, but only by leaving their world forever. They have to desert their homes, their structures, even their own identities, and never return. And Crowley and Aziraphale are so rooted in their "precious, perfect, fragile" life in their little corner of Soho, with their bookshop and their Bentley and their dining at the Ritz (which they didn't get to do in the end because METATRON /shakes fist), that that just doesn't work. Neither of them can conceive of doing that. So Aziraphale thinks "go back to heaven and try to make the terrible system do some good and take what we can in terms of being together" and Crowley just... pours out his heart. He's ready to fucking propose. He barely stops himself from saying something to the effect of "I want to spend eternity with you." He begs, he pleads with Aziraphale to go away not in the literal sense, but the emotional/metaphysical: to finally break this toxic dependence on Heaven and tell them once and for all where to stick it. And because he is desperate to make Aziraphale understand, he finally throws all caution to the winds and recklessly, desperately, adoringly kisses him, the one thing he's wanted to do for ages and...

Gets. Shot. Down.

Ugghhhhh. I'm suffering all over again. Aziraphale wants him, hungers for it, for them, and yet he's been so abused and so conditioned by Heaven (he's still blithely repeating to Crowley's face that "Hell are the bad guys!") that he just cannot accept that kind of desperate, blind, limitless, lawless affection. He even forgives Crowley for this "transgression," just to really twist the knife, and Crowley just can't take it, can't face up to how terribly this has all gone up in flames, after he went to heaven trying to find the answer for Gabriel's situation. Gabriel, who he fucking hates. Gabriel, who tried to kill the angelic being he loves (and for which Crowley has transparently never forgiven him). And yet at one pouty puppy-eyed look from Aziraphale and a warning that whoever is harboring Gabriel might be in danger, Crowley leaps headlong into the Bentley again and rushes to the rescue while "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" is blaring. He stoutly protects Gabriel; he does a miracle to disguise him; he lets him have hot chocolate and stay in the bookshop; he guards him from the literal demonic horde outside. All because of Aziraphale. That's it. And then, it still doesn't work. Not only that, Gabriel's absence and decision to forego Armageddon gives Heaven the one tool they finally need to take Aziraphale away from him.

I repeat: Ugghhhhhhhh.

(In a good way. Ngl, I love this angst. This is the kind of angst my brain Thrives on, the Thematic Parallel Romantic Character Arc kind. Nom nom nom. But also: AGONY.)

I also need to talk about Aziraphale driving the Bentley, aside from the obvious metaphor of him being in Crowley's home while Crowley is in his. Last season, we had the "you go too fast for me, Crowley" scene with them sitting in said Bentley, which was Aziraphale saying he's not ready for a relationship. In this season, as noted above, we see Aziraphale increasingly embracing the potential fantasy of being with Crowley. But here's the catch: when he's in the Bentley this time, driving it, setting the pace, acclimating to the idea, he's driving his own idea of what the Bentley/his relationship with Crowley is. It's not the real thing. He plays classical music; he supplies himself sweets; he turns it yellow; he drives too slow. Crowley calls him in another old-married-couple snitfit to complain that Aziraphale's messed it up, but what Aziraphale has actually messed up (or will, by the end of the season) is far more consequential than just a car. He's changed the entire shape of their relationship to the one he thinks can make it work, and it just doesn't. It has to be them -- "we could have been... Us" -- or it's not even close to the truth. It's not worth their time.

I repeat: Ouch.

Speaking of the writers validating fan theories, I know we all picked up and screamed about on Crowley's idea of Peak Romance Guaranteed To Fall In Love being sheltering from rain and gazing into each other's eyes, which confirms that that poor bastard was indeed ass-over-teakettle gone as soon as he met Aziraphale (again) in Eden. I also need to talk about the 1941 redux, because wow. This time, the danger comes from Hell, which we see being its usual self: gleefully, pointlessly cruel, pettily backbiting, dirty, sniping, tedious, endless, determined to mindlessly destroy because They're The Bad Guys and they like it. So they blackmail, spy on, miracle-block, illicitly photograph, and try to prove that Aziraphale and Crowley are secretly a couple, right after Aziraphale himself has just had the Light From Heaven realization that he's in love (which we all also picked up on in s1). They're forcibly outing them (to speak of more Religious Queer Trauma) in order to break them up/get them into trouble with their authorities/families. Aziraphale and Crowley manage to escape it mostly by dumb luck, but Crowley having an altogether freakout, hands shaking, barely able to actually point the gun at Aziraphale even in the knowledge that it's supposed to be fake, is just... wow. He can't even fathom the idea of ever trying to destroy him in earnest, especially when he knows on some level that Aziraphale also finally just realized his own feelings. So I just need to --

/screams

Anyway, Aziraphale's entire arc this season is doing what he thinks is the right thing and then inadvertently causing harm and damage as a result. In the Edinburgh flashbacks (live slug reaction of me: SEAN BIGGERSTAFF???!!) he tries to stop Elspeth from stealing bodies and gets Morag killed and Crowley drinking the laudanum to save him (though that part with David Tennant just riffing left and right, using his natural Scottish accent, and being Tiny Crowley/Huge Crowley was hilarious). He invites his neighbors to a Pride and Prejudice ball and makes them all the target for demonic attack. And of course the Job episode: Aziraphale, horrified at Heaven's callous cruelty, desperate not to get Job's children killed, willing to go along with Crowley's tricks to save them somehow, tempted by Crowley to do the fucknasty with their angel bits eat some food and decide that he likes it. As mentioned, the whole thing about God being silent this season is a major thematic choice. The only time we see/hear God is Her communing with Job from afar. Aziraphale enviously imagines the answers he must be getting (he's not, he's baffled and perplexed), while Crowley longs beyond words to even have the opportunity to ask the question: why? Why do this? Why is this your plan?

And of course, this absence culminates in the Metatron, the Voice of God, the person arrogantly claiming that they're speaking for God and know exactly what Heaven wants, being able to seize Aziraphale by the short hairs and absolutely fuck him over. Gabriel is gone/decommissioned/eloping with Beelzebub, so Heaven needs a Supreme Leader (God apparently is no longer a factor in the equation). And what this Supreme Leader needs to do is finally unleash the Apocalypse that Gabriel decided to pass on (the Second Coming). Aziraphale needs to be punished, taken away from Crowley's influence/love, and put back under Heaven's explicit control, so Metatron spots a great opportunity to do all three at once. It's not an accident that the exact tool he uses to get Aziraphale to agree is "now you can actually be with Crowley!" Aziraphale and Crowley have been trying so hard to hide out from their respective Head Offices, but now all at once, there's this seemingly miraculous opportunity for them not to have to do that anymore! They can be together! They can be sanctioned by Heaven! They can give up all this hiding and sneaking around and lying! Isn't that better?

... As long as, of course, they give up absolutely everything that makes them who they are. No big deal. Minor catch. Probably nothing.

Metatron doesn't let Aziraphale have time to escape, or think it over, or reflect, or anything. He pressures Aziraphale to come with him immediately, or be once more subject to Heaven's implicit wrath/destruction/judgment. Believe me, Aziraphale already KNOWS he's made a huge mistake, as soon as he hears what Metatron really wants: bringing him back to unleash the Apocalypse that Aziraphale and Crowley have given up literally everything to prevent. He doesn't need time to reflect. By the time my man is in that elevator, he's well aware of what a catastrophic misjudgment he's made, and yet --

Aziraphale needs this. He has, as noted, literally always relied on Crowley outsmarting Heaven's cruel orders in order to prevent himself from having to do them. He's relied on Crowley rescuing him ("rescuing me makes him so happy," WELL BUB, IT'S BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS NEED IT). He admits to Crowley's face that "I need you!" He hates Heaven's sadistic meanness, but he has absolutely no framework, in and of himself, to defy it. When the rubber hits the road, he will crumple and try to go along with it, and now he's been put in a position where he's going to have to stand up, defy Heaven, and make the break once and for all BY HIMSELF. He doesn't have Crowley around to do it for him, he has no support, he is going to arrive in Heaven and be shuttled straight off to the Apocalypse 2.0 War Room. The only way he gets out of this is if he actively stands up, if he chooses himself and Crowley and their life, and he has to.

The thing is:

Aziraphale has lived his entire eternal existence Looking Up. Up is the direction of Goodness and Heaven. Up is where Angels go. Up is where Aziraphale comes from and where Demons and Hell are not. But now he's going Up, in a position to take over the whole shebang, and it's the last thing he wants.

So he's going to have to come back Down.

He's going to have to Fall. He's going to have to get back Below at all costs. He's going to have to finally, once and for all, understand what led Crowley to make the choice to leave Heaven and never come back. It's only then that they can possibly be together on any kind of conscious, equal, deliberate footing, claim their own agency, reject Heaven AND Hell, and try to really earn that South Downs cottage and that happy-ever-after, and it's gonna hurt so good.

Now if you will excuse me, /screams

[devondespresso]

FINALLY

after NINE. HOURS. (NOT including meals and sleep) ITS FUCKING DONE.

A complete floorplan of the entire Harrington house. Including too much thought about random, throw-away lines from characters and squint-to-see-it background glimpses inside.

plently of stuff in the actual house is altered or straight up ignored in favor of following the fiction logic and because I Wanted To. A lot of this is motivated by my headcanons for the Harringtons and how I'm writing them in my fic, but I'm also certainly not an architect so it's by no means perfect. It is, however, unreasonably canon compliant in the few bits we do see.

Thought Process (for context):

the darker shaded floor areas are lower than the rest, some bits like the garages having stairs and some areas like the sun and dining rooms list being like a step lower. Windows are marked with dashes along the outside, sliding doors are two thin lines slightly overlapping, stairs change color as they diverge from the level we're looking at, and furniture is eyeballed so don't look to closely a the scale.

not all closets are labeled, just the ones i figured could be confusing. Steve and the guest rooms have closets i promise.

the laundry room and pantry are not the same size but by the time i noticed i was exhausted. so pretend they're both more reasonably sized.

i don't know what the floorplan symbol for garage door is and then i forgot to look so the headlights point to where the doors are and you can see them clearly in photos so yeah.

The general layout is based on the idea that the Harringtons are or were into hosting dinner parties and business meetings in their home, especially as a young rich couple looking for respect in their circles (Mr. Harrington taking on his father's business and reinforcing that power, Mrs. Harrington climbing her own social ladder and building an image).

So the house is laid out with hosting areas towards the right with the office big and near the dining room because it's more than just a workplace, it represents him as a businessman. In canon the entryway and living room both have very high ceilings and no second-floor above them, so I'd imagine they're also aware of how the top floor looks from below, hence the fancy double/french doors to the master bedroom which is in plain view from below. Steve's room and the guest room are's nearly as visible.

As for the kitchen and sun/pool rooms, I see them more as secondary hosting areas that aren't used as the main location most of the time and are more this background setting to these events that still feel rich. The kitchen is massive and mostly for dinner-parties and Mrs. Harrington's social events.

The kitchen and main bathroom's placement is based on a line Steve said to Barb giving her directions to the bathroom: "down past the kitchen, to the left". With the massive living room on the left and wanting to keep the dining and office close by, i interpreted the "to the left" part being like "find the kitchen, then turn left". And with the rest of the area being open-concept, the bathroom would be the only normal door over there and easy to find. it's a bit of a stretch with just that line, but it makes sense to me with the rest of the context for the layout.

the basement is similar to this, though not as openly displayed so I imagine its for slightly closer friends. Theres a garage door down there so I figured Mr. Harrington might have a cool car he shows off, like he's letting people in on a personal detail about himself. There's also a guest room down there (the only one still considered 100% for guests, more on that later) for those people.

beside the basement garage, there was originally one main garage that holds two cars, obvious Mr. and Mrs. Harrington's cars. I imagine they bought the house before having kids, so a third one wasn't on the mind but after having Steve they added the front one (either turning the carport into a closed garage or they never had a carport and added a whole new addition, up to you)

Both garages lead to the same part of the house, and that area is the only one besides the water heater room that is purely function over effect. It still looks good like the rest of the house but it's not made to be fancy because guests would rarely need to be over there if at all and it's not noteworthy from other parts of the house.

In my headcanon, Steve's room used to be a guest room, staying his room from nursery to present with Mrs. Harrington renovating every now and then. Its one of those places in the house that doesn't have to look perfect for all to see, so she gets creative and has fun with it.

The upstairs guest room is also unofficially Mrs. Harrington's room, based on a line where Tommy mentions a fireplace in "his mom's room" instead of "guest room" or "parent's room" or "master bedroom". I belatedly realized this could be a solidarity thing with Steve hating his dad and calling the master bedroom his mom's room, but that was after 9 hours of this and im not changing it but there you go. In this version, I imagine she leaves the master some nights because her marriage with Mr. Harrington is failing (cheating and all, I wouldn't want to be in the same bed with someone who cheated either)

the master bathroom was an executive decision, just looking at the house in canon and not having enough space in my first attempts, i decided the triangle roof part above the dining and office could fit a master bathroom.

Feel free to use or reference this in your own fics! Feel free to block out my furniture or walls and make your own version. If you share my image please credit with an @ mention!! (again, 9 hours) (thank you fhalsfhd)

[illubean]

Can I get a hisokas sister x killua? Like hisokas sister is affectionate but not in a creepy way she just want to show killua how much she likes him😔(mainly in gifts and unexpected hugs, cheek kisses) you can do what you want with this request.🫶🏼have a good day! I love your blogs btw!! :))) it’s nice to see some hxh blogs😭

Killua with HisokasSister!reader

Characters: Killua Zoldyck Type: Fluff, Headcanons, Fem!reader

ok I know my rules say I won't write romantically for Killua or Gon but this one is kinda in a grey area and the request was cute soooo up to interpretation even though it's intended to be mostly platonic >.< also im going to try and be nice as a certified Hisoka hater LMAO

Warnings: Hisoka.

being Hisoka's little sister was...interesting

he's literally insane a lil cray but he's all you got and you wouldn't trade him for the world

you met Killua at the hunter exam and became part of the little friend group he had going because you were one of the only other kids there

and over your time there you ended up getting attached to him

you followed him around all the time and latched yourself to his side whenever you could

and poor boy was conflicted

it was kind of annoying but also? nice at the same time???

so yeah despite him looking so annoyed at you all the time he doesn't actually try stopping you from showing him affection

he has no clue what to do with all the random stuff you give him especially since they're pretty useless sometimes...

and he's very confused on where you find this stuff and why you even thought of giving it to him

like where tf did you find a bird skull? and how did you manage to find so many pieces of sea glass??????

you're like a crow with attachment issues or something

it's not until after the exam and you follow him and Gon to heaven's arena that he finds out you're related to Hisoka

and hes like HAH!?!?

when you all made it to the 200th floor the boys were literally shaking in their boots when they got closer to Hisoka

and when you ran up to him and hugged him like it was nothing? ARE YOU CRAZY!?

after his talking and whatever and Wing coming to get you guys Hisoka's like sooo are you coming with me or what

and you're like nah I wanna stay with Killua

and hes like "Oh my, seem's like someone's infatuated with the Zoldyck boy. Don't worry, he's not the one I'm interested in"

and Killua is like WTFFFF

HOW IS SOMEONE SO WEIRD AND SCARY RELATED TO YOU

he's more weary around you now and a lot more hesitant to ever push you away

he already liked and admired you as a person but now there is an added fear factor

we all know Illumi doesn't like Killua having friends

but if it's you? ...well there's not much you can really do

he doesn't mind all that much because your brother is a valuable ally and you've probably got potential too

but yeah overall Killua just accepts your affection without any questions partially because he is afraid

[lolli-popples]

The Missing Link in Scott's Characterization

(Wrote this in a random document and I think it's good so I'm loosely transcribing it here)

These are some of my thoughts on a crucial facet of Scott's character in the Life Series that I think is overlooked by the fandom.

From my personal viewpoint, people put a lot of emphasis on Scott's caring about his allies over everything else. I think this is an important characteristic. However, I think this being shown as the most central trait is a detriment to how people read his involvement with the overarching narrative. It might be less of a problem if he wasn't directly involved with the final fight of nearly every Life Series.

Because of this combination of things, his main interaction with fans' reading of the final fight is being willing to do anything to make sure his friends win. It gives people the tendency to attribute some victories partially to him, which upsets people who want main read of the story to focus entirely on the winner. But this also has meant that one of Scott's main traits is overlooked.

Just as much, and often, more than Scott values his allies, he values fairness. To showcase this, let's look at Limited and Last Life, where he had the most control on how the final fight took place.

In Last Life, when it's down to the final four, Scott *could* have teamed up with Pearl, his ally all season, to kill Martyn and Ren. That aligns with wanting either your or your allies to win, no? But he doesn't. He suggests they split to the 4 corners of the map and have a fair fight on equal footing. Very fair.

With Limited Life it's even more apparent. Scott and Martyn have an impressive amount of time. They could both still die multiple times. Impulse is running out, and there's a numbers advantage. They could have killed Impulse and Scott could have let Martyn win, or Scott could have given Martyn his time to fight Impulse alone. But instead, he suggests they all go down to the same amount and have a fair fight.

In both situations, Scott puts fairness *over* an alliance victory. Even though Limited Life didn't end up ending fairly, that had nothing to do with Scott.

Double Life certainly has the strongest claim on Scott "letting someone win". That his death is an apology for abandoning Pearl.

But if you listen to what Scott says in the finale, he never apologizes. He says he didn't think they'd get this far, he says she deserves this more than him, and then he says the iconic "Tilly death do us part."

Scott didn't fight Pearl. But I don't think it came out of remorse. I think that too, came from a sense of fairness. Which is that Pearl, by all accounts, DOES deserve this win. If they fought it would basically be up to a draw. To chance. Scott has every chance of winning. But if you go over the events of Scott's final episode, he mostly runs. He survives. While Pearl 1v2'd two separate pairs and won! The only reason Pearl hasn't killed Scott already, who has been her enemy all season, is because they were randomly assigned to be soul-linked. A concept Scott has fought since the very beginning. He knows that while he never hurt their chances, Pearl is the reason they are here, and Pearl is the reason he is here. It wouldn't be fair for Pearl to lose to what is basically a coin flip. So, he doesn't leave it up to random chance.

So yes, Scott is loyal and does care about his allies, he proves that again and again. But the way he is involved in how the series end shows that his sense of order and fairness are equally important. Also, I think viewing his contributions from this angle help remedy some of the reasons people don't like his usual characterization because of how it effects the agency of other characters.

[asterias-record-shop]

Hello! I don’t know if this space has already been requested, but could I please request #18 with the Cowboy Space with Ethan Landry from Scream VI? For the overview is that Chad basically convinces Ethan to dress up like a shirtless cowboy like him to show off his muscles to impress the girl Ethan has been crushing/in love with.

The girl can be either friends with the Woodsboro group or just a random girl from one of Ethan’s classes. But the girl has also been crushing on Ethan.

Thank you so much for doing the bingo! I love your writing!

—𓆩[save a horse, ride a cowboy]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Ethan Landry x Fem! Crush! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.8K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - NON GHOSTFACE AU Ethan had been crushing on you since the first day of college. Now, three years in and finally getting the courage thanks to his best friend Chad, he dresses up for the Halloween party as something much more… suggestive. He truly didn’t expect you to show up in an exposed Halloween outfit dressed up as a classic horror character, ready to tease him all night long.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - again, NON GHOSTFACE AU!!! || porn with a plot || but the ghostface character still exists yk || aged up some more, again like 3 years into college || partying || body shots || drinking alcohol (legally, mostly) || mentions of drugs || intoxicated sex but fully consensual || slight gxg relations with reader ig? (tara) || party is set in like a bigger area if that makes sense? || tara and chad are already together || altered timeline slightly? || Ethan and Chad are actually best friends because again, not in like the movie’s universe? || the entire group are actually really good friends (Sam, Tara, Chad, Mindy, Anika – i didn't include Quinn) || everyone’s more lighthearted cuz no trauma || you have a high alcohol tolerance now || kind of public sex || moved to sex in another person’s bathroom || blowjob || self fingering || then moving to a random room || unprotected sex || riding || cumming inside || slight tit worship || mentions of smoking ||

Ethan didn’t think he could go through with this. He stared at himself in the mirror, and though he didn’t dislike what he was seeing, he just didn’t know if he was comfortable.

“Heyo, E, what’s taking so long? We gotta see you!” Chad knocked on the door as Ethan fixed the ascot looking thing around his neck and the cowboy hat he accidentally spent way too much money on. "Ethan, come out here and show us!”

Ethan groaned as he walked out, Chad whistling as he sat next to Tara with his arm around her shoulders. “Look at you! Looking great, Ethan! You’re a lot more muscular than I thought.”

He ignored Chad’s words as Anika giggled slightly, making him look at her. “What’s so funny?”

“You look like you’re about to go into a porno,” she laughed, making Mindy giggle. “A really, really weird porno, but a good one!”

Her words make Ethan groan, pointing at Chad. “He’s wearing the same thing! For fucks sake, I feel like I look so fucking stupid-”

Chad quickly shakes his head. “Come on man, you look great!”

Tara giggled slightly, everyone looking at her. “What’s so funny?” Ethan said again, crossing his arms which made his biceps bulge. 

“Texting Y/N,” she said, smiling. “She’s going as Ghostface. A slutty Ghostface, and I told her you’re going as a shirtless cowboy, so you kind of have to wear that now.”

Ethan groaned, face palming. “Promise I don’t look stupid?”

“You look amazing, dude!” Chad.

“You look fucking stupid.” Sam.

“Just don’t star in a porno!” Anika.

“Can we go already? We’re going to be late.” Mindy.

“Yeah, Y/N’s already there, she’s doing body shots. I wanna do body shots with her, it sounds fun!” Tara.

Only Tara’s words stuck with him, because just like her, he really wanted to do body shots with you. Normally, you were part of this mini gang that they had, but you had gone with your two best friends that you had known since high school, especially because it was a frat party.

It wasn’t long until everyone left, leaving the dorms with Ethan and Chad shirtless as they walked to the frat party. “She’s not gonna think I’m weird, right?”

“Nah, man! She’s gonna think you’re hot, coke on! Besides, slutty Ghostface? It pairs up great,” Chad said, shrugging as he held Tara close. “You’re gonna take body shots with Y/N, right?”

“I’m gonna try.”

“Oh definitely!”

Ethan and Tara both spoke at the same time, Tara clapping her hands. “Hell yeah! Ethan’s getting bold, whoop whoop! I go first though.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m still deciding if I’m even gonna go.”

“You better go!” Tara said, nodding. “I have a bet y’all are going to fuck tonight! Don’t make me lose!”

When they got there, they immediately knew where you were since they could see you standing in front of the ping pong table playing beer pong. He smiled as you bit your lips, bouncing the small plastic ball and landing it perfectly on one of the cups, everyone yelling out as you jumped up with a cheer. “Whoo!”

“Y/N!” Tara yelled as she ran over, Chad slapping Ethan’s back.

“Go get her, man!”

Oh, but then he saw you.

You looked fucking perfect in the fishnet body suit that covered your entire body, a mere leather tube top and a leather mini skirt covering your more intimate parts. He could barely talk as you spoke with Tara, laughing and giggling before you grabbed a die.

“Here, I’ll finish this game, and then we can start body shots again!” You smiled, giggling as you jumped up and down slightly. “Oh, Chad, Ethan! Hey guys!”

He smiled slightly, waving as he walked over. “Hey… Hey, you look so nice.”

You giggle, looking down at your outfit. “I tried! Do you think it pulled together well?”

“Uhm… so, so well,” Ethan smiled as you giggled. “You look amazing.”

“Oh, thank you!” You giggled, shaking your head. “So… wanna do some body shots?”

Ethan blushed as Tara nodded vigorously behind you, the words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Let’s do some shots?”

It wasn’t until it was actually about to happen did Ethan regret wanting to do shots.

There was dice, terrifying dice that you both had to roll to see where you had to take the shot off the other person’s body. Tara had gotten your tits and you had gotten her stomach, so here you were, bending over the ping pong table as Tara lifted her hips and you tilt your head back and you grabbed the shot with your teeth and tilt your head back, easily swallowing the liquor with your hands pushing up.

Everyone cheered as you grabbed the shot glass, pointing at Ethan. “You’re turn, cowboy!”

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

You laughed as you walked forward and grabbed his hand, dragging him to the ping pong table and putting both dice in his hand and giggling. “Roll for me?” He swallowed, nodding slightly as you hold his wrist, everyone letting out loud wolf whistles as you tilted your head up at him. “Want me to blow on them for you?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“He wants you to blow on a lot more than that, Y/N!” Anika yelled out, laughing as you giggled.

“Roll ‘em.”

Ethan rolled the dice, unable to see what they landed on before Tara cheered. “Crotch and same as partner!”

You giggled, taking the shots that Tara had given to you. “You’re going to take your first shot of the night.”

He basically gulped as you gave him both shots, laying back against the ping pong table and fixing your skirt. You take the shot, carefully setting the shot on your skirt and lifting your hips with your legs spread. “What are you waiting for?”

Everyone started shouting out ‘Shots!’ as Ethan tried to avoid getting between your legs until you roll your eyes, pulling him between your legs to where the shot was. “Y-You’re sure this is okay?”

“Of course,” you twirl one of his curls around your finger, smiling. “Get to it.”

He’s careful as he looked down, slowly wrapping his lips around the shots before you thrust your hips up and he tilted his head back, swallowing it easily. You giggle as he threw his head back, giggling. “Ethan took the shot!”

Everyone cheered as you sat up, Ethan’s face right in front of yours before you grabbed his ascot like thing. “My turn.”

Ethan quickly switched with you, watching as you got between his legs and patted his thighs. “Can I unzip your pants?”

Everyone whistled again as Ethan nods nervously, watching you unzip his jeans and slide the shot over the bulge of his cock that was slowly getting bigger, even though he hoped you didn't see it. He watched as you hummed, watching as Tara stepped forward and gave Ethan the lime wedge. “Put it in your mouth.”

“Wh-What-?” He basically choked as she stuffed it in his mouth, the rind facing the back of his throat before she poured out some salt on his hip bone.

You giggle as you lean forward and down, your ass up as you licked his hip, taking all of the salt before moving to the shot on his dick, his hips bucking automatically into your mouth making you gag slightly before throwing your head back and swallowing the shot. It wasn’t until you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, taking the lime from his mouth and biting into the flesh before taking it out of your mouth and kissing him firmly.

He can taste the pods of the sour lime and bitter tequila, grains of salt still on your tongue brushing against his as you sit in his lap. His hands go to your waist almost immediately, smiling against your lips as you giggle and laugh against his own.

Someone groaned as your hands “God dammit, get off the table!”

Ethan tried to pull back, eyes open as he was about to pull away and help you get off the table before you pulled him closer, not letting him pull back as you flipped your middle finger up in the direction of the voice. He could hear Chad yell something out as you hummed against his lips, your nose bumping against his as you tilted your head making Ethan laugh slightly, smiling as you pulled away, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth.

“We should go back to my apartment.”

Ethan rushes to nod as you quickly stand up, dragging him off the table and down the hall.

“Fuck yeah! Ethan’s gonna get laid!” Chad.

Ethan blushed madly as you laughed, walking backwards to pull him into the entrance hall and press your back against the wall before flipping you both for Ethan to be pressed against the wall instead. “Are you a virgin?”

He swallowed, his mouth dry as he shook his head, then nodded. A quickie with some random girl where he didn’t cum didn’t count, right?

You laughed, shaking your head as you started to rub against his chiseled abdomen. “Well? What is it, yes or no? If you are, I can make this special and we can go back to my apartment quickly. If not, then you’ve had a quickie, right?”

Ethan nodded his head quickly, swallowing as you rubbed against his crotch area. “Y-Yeah, I have.”

“Do you mind if I suck your dick here?” You asked it as though you were asking to take a lollipop from a doctor’s office, your eyes shining with lust as your nails trail over the v that led down. “A quick blowjob, then we can fuck at my apartment.”

Ethan gasped as someone walked past, but of course, you didn't seem to care as you kissed against the bulge. “D-Don’t you think we should go somewhere more private?”

You paused, looking up at him confused. “What do you mean?”

“Y-You… Why don’t we go somewhere where no one can see how good you feel?” He tilted his head down at you, a giggle falling from your lips as you stood.

“Okay,” you dragged him farther down the hall into an actually clean bathroom that he didn’t expect to be as clean as it was before you kneeled down on the rug. “So, can I suck your dick now?”

He laughed, shaking his head slightly. “Y-You’re sure you want to do this?”

“That I want to suck your dick?” You rubbed your nose against the zipper, tilting your head slightly. “Is that okay?”

“Y-Yeah, you can… you can suck m-my dick-” Ethan let out a loud groan as you finished unzipping his pants and pulled out his perfect cock, his length practically dripping with precum and the veins on the underside already bulging. “Fuck, darling, you’re that greedy?”

You hummed as you nodded, wrapping your lips around his tip carefully before your other hand started to push down your exposed stomach and under your skirt. He watched your hand slowly swipe up and down your cunt, rolling your clit between your fingers and pumping his cock at the same time.

He stared at you, groaning as you pumped and gagged on his cock, pulling away to spit on his tip and pump the saliva up to his base. You hummed, staring up at him as you continued to pump his shaft, pulling his cock down your throat and gagging on it. He threw his head back, groaning as he tried to hold back the thrusts of his hips, but for fucks sake your mouth felt so good around his cock and your hand pumping the area that you couldn’t fit in your mouth with your fist as you groaned.

“F-Fuck, cowgirl,” he groaned loudly, head tilted back as you pulled away to giggle, humming as you move your head to the side and lick up the side of his pretty cock. “You suck my cock so perfectly, cowgirl,” he grinned as you pulled away, groaning loudly. He finally noticed your hand as you fingered yourself, hips rutting forward into your hand. “Doing so good.”

You giggled, groaning as you rode your hand and continued to spit on his cock, getting his shaft all wet as you wiped the spit from your chin with the back of your forearm. You hummed as you tilted your head up at him. “Want you to use my mouth,” you whisper, pulling his cock down your throat for a few seconds before gasping as you pull away. “Use my mouth like I’m a little whore, and make cum and spit run down my chin like those pornos, that way I have both of my hands to get off. Fingering myself as you use my throat.”

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered as you both slowly turned around, Ethan watching as you leaned back against the cabinets and wiped your mouth with your other hand before pushing them both between your legs.

“You won’t hurt me,” you whisper, shaking your head as you groan loudly, your hands quickening against your cunt. “Fuck my mouth. Please, need you to use my mouth.”

Ethan groaned as you lifted your mouth up to lick carefully against his balls, Ethan taking his cock and softly pumping his length. “You sure?”

“Mhm,” you hum an agreement, sighing as you bumped your nose against his tip. “Want to feel it.”

Slowly, he pushed his cock into your mouth, groaning as you leaned forward, his eyes quickly flickering down to your hands in a place that he couldn’t see, rubbing vigorously as you bob your head up and down his shaft. Your eyes rolled back as you relax your jaw, doing the same to your throat as Ethan reached down and held the sides of your head.

Just like you said, he couldn’t stop himself, using your mouth and thrusting down your throat with a groan. “Come on, cowgirl, you’re doing so good… so so good, cowgirl, your throat is fucking perfect.”

You groaned, nodding around his cock as you continued to rut into your hands, your throat perfect and warm around his shaft as he shallowly thrusted down your throat. He let out a loud groan before someone opened the door, his hand quickly going to close it. “Got dammit, busy!”

You giggled as you wiped your throat, leaving the globs of cum and spit on your chin. “Love my throat that much, don’t you?”

“I love you that much,” he whispers, staring at his bright red cock and your hands quickening once again. “I love you so much.”

Your stomach was tight and twisting, the feeling of a hard orgasm settling in your stomach as you moved one of your hands to rub your clit between your thumb and middle finger. You groaned around his cock, bobbing your head even harder around his cock, his hips rutting faster and rougher. You gagged around his cock, the fingers inside of you thrusting faster as you felt drool and cum run down your chin. To be honest, you didn’t register him cumming the first time, and to be honest, neither did he besides the tightness of his stomach.

It was probably when the person almost walked in, because for fucks sake did that turn him on.

Oh, but his stomach was twisting just like yours, tightening as he groaned, the sight of your eyes crossing as they rolled back and mixed globs of cum and saliva ran down your chin.

You groaned loudly as he thrusted his hips forward, groaning loudly as he cradled the back of your head so it wouldn’t hit the counter as his hips started to stutter. If you could have smiled, you would have, even as he softly stroked your hair and you could taste the hot ropes of his salty cum.

You hummed in pleasure as your stomach finally clenched and you came, your hands pushing around his slightly soft cock, pumping him with your cum covered hands as you kissed his tip before swallowing. It makes him gasp as you stand, wiping your mouth and licking your fingers as he stares at the white dripping down your fishnets. “You wish this was your cum, don’t you cowboy?”

“I do,” he whispers, softly grabbing your chin and pulling you in for a firm kiss. “I do… I wish it was my cum dripping down your thighs right now.”

“It can be,” you whisper back, pulling him down for a firm kiss. “There’s a room down the hall no one knows about. We could go there, that way we don’t waste time going to my apartment.”

He smiled slightly, bumping his nose to yours. “How do you know about it then?”

You giggled, shaking your head. “I know because I was able to finish a blunt there without no one interrupting me.”

He shook his head with a laugh as you slowly pushed him back. “Well, lead the way.”

You turned around as you pulled him down the hall, urgently pulling him down for more kisses, desperately wanting his lips on your own. Your lips were still slightly salty as his tongue dragged along your lips, his hands holding your cheeks delicately before you reached up and took his black hat, putting it on your head with a giggle. “Save a horse,”

“Ride a cowboy.”

You both laughed as you kept the hat on, his hands pushing down between your thighs and undoing the zipper down the center all while your hand searched for the doorknob. He laughed as he held your skirt in hand and you finally open the door, his hands doing the same to your top with the zipper in the back and putting it in the same hand together as you quickly got the door open and he pushed you back.

Ethan smiled as he kicked the door closed, kicking off his boots and his jeans before laying back on the bed and watching you slowly crawl above him. “I want to ride you,” you whisper, already pumping his cock as he reaches down and finishes ripping a slit on the fishnet stockings. “Please?”

He groaned as you forced his cock up, the already hard length needing little to no help to stay up straight as you forced yourself up by your knees. “Why are you always asking, cowgirl? For fucks sake, just do what you want to me, I’ll never complain if it’s you.”

You giggle as you finally push his tip into you, throwing your head back with a loud groan. You truly didn’t expect his cock, especially his pretty tip, to be this fucking big. Slowly, you sink down onto his length, watching his face pinch up as he groans loudly and holds your hips tightly.

Ethan let out a loud groan as you started to roll your hips, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you leaned onto his chest for support, leaning down before he shook his head. “W-Wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Wanna see your tits.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, pausing the movements of your hips before leaning down and stealing a quick kiss as you held his face. “You are so a virgin.”

He laughed as his hands moved up your sides, groaning as his hands go from your sides to your poorly covered tits, thumbs swiping over your hard nipples that were poking through one of the holes of the fishnets, his thumb easily pushing inside of the holes before ripping the fabric. You gasped, the sight turning you on more than it should’ve before his hands grope and cup your tits.

The added stimulation made your stomach clench as you desperately alternated between bouncing on his cock to rolling your hips, desperate to hit that perfect spot inside of you. You were whining and letting out broken moans above him, every sporadic, unhinged and unexpected thrusts of his hips making you scream out and fly forward, a groan falling from his lips.

“Come on cowgirl,” he whispers, a grin on his face as his hand swipes over your nipple again. “You’re doing so good, cum on my cock.”

You nodded, mind blurred as you tilted your head back, pushing your hips forward before lifting yourself slightly to feel his cock slide in and out of you.

Ethan groaned loudly as your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock, your nails digging into his chest as your eyes rolled back and your thrusts got rougher, a scream of his name falling from your lips before your cunt clenched around his cock and you were about to fall forward before he caught you.

He let out a loud moan as he carefully laid you against his chest, rolling his hips into yours to cum and ride out his high inside of you, stroking your back as you pant above him. “You did so good, cowgirl.”

You hummed, nodding into his neck as you softly rubbed up and down his chest, the hat on your head bumping into his nose as he tried to kiss your head. “You don’t think we’re done yet, do you cowboy? You gotta see your cowgirl ride you backwards.”

Ethan groaned as you sat back up, fixing the hat on your head as he choked. “Now, what kind of cowboy would I be if I didn’t?”

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