#it's so fucked up bc you can see he is genuinely wired like that too. he WANTS to help. he wants to do good

[moe-broey]

HELP maybe this is influenced by how I'm writing this, or maybe it was supposed to be gleaned from canon and I just. Haven't fully thought about it til now. Haven't Deeply analyzed it beyond the blaring alarm bells that go off when reading this. But. Alfonse's,

Straight into.

This isn't him doubling down. This is him BACKTRACKING. This is him going, "oh fuck I think maybe I came on a little too strong maybe I was a bit too vulnerable and that's really scary. How do I fix this" and he's running through all the dialogue options in his head like Okay. Play it Cool. Keep it Casual. Proclaim your undying loyalty and devotion to your Trusted Partner (person he just told in the beginning of this conversation that he didn't intend to become friends with) by making yourself a blade and shield for them. NAILED IT 👍

[coquettetoji]

{💌} ARMIN ARLERT MOODBOARD

★ general armin hcs ★

— sweetest soul who is 100% down to earth, will scold you for not recycling your fork into the correct trash can and will pick up plastic / any trash on the ground

— nerdy golden retriever boy, and is the biggest people pleaser

— played hockey growing up and in college, he’s a right winger

— reads a shit ton of books, will press pretty and colorful flowers he finds outside into the book spine to save it

— is academically and naturally smart, gpa is a strong 4.2, majors in business, economics, or biology, some smart shit like that ( will grow up to be that hot rich dad every single mom wants )

— SLEEPER BUILD 🗣️🗣️AND A V LINE🗣️🗣️

— hands are big but they’re like bony and soft, he also plays piano so he’s good with his hands *moan*

— his most used app is spotify, google classroom, and messages

— lana del rey coded. i will argue with anyone who thinks otherwise.

— listens to cigarettes after sex, clairo, and this one random 63 hour playlist called ‘band cafe soft jazz music’

— speaking of cigarettes, armin also smokes cigarettes (ik i’m sorry) but this guy is a student athlete, ofc he’s gonna have to de-stress somehow

— drives the newest model of a white range rover with beige interior

— 6’1 teddy bear with attachment issues

— speaks french fluently

— so so so soft spoken like you will never see him yelling at another person, even when he’s frustrated

— also doesn’t like cursing, will give someone a quick glance if they cuss but won’t mind it

— has a gold chain around his neck, yes the slutty kind

— came from old money 🤭🤑, he dresses like it too i’m talking quarter zips, sweaters, khakis, and neutral colors, wears his gold thin wire framed glasses occasionally

— knows all girl shit bc of his little sister (who he adores) he learned how to take care of her so he’s really reliable when it comes to treating girls right

— his phone case is the apple silicone one that’s cream color, keeps one of his credit cards in the case behind his phone

— phone screen is him and his puppy ( spot the difference game for everyone 👍 )

— every woman he knows or did a favor for all say “his mother raised him right”

— the most organized person ever, his whole pantry would labeled and organized like khloe kardashian’s

— eren and armin are 100% that black cat golden retriever duo, take a wild guess on who is which lol

— 2 deep dimples on his cheeks that pop out when he smiles, also has light freckles dusted on his nose n around it, has the straightest whitest teeth + an adorable smile **he’s so grateful for braces existing

— overall the most genuine human out there, no detection of fuck boy here 😁😁😁

{💌} new message from mica

armin is actually my baby i love him so much i need me a soft spoken tall nerdy blonde white boy in my life now

[lunarmoves]

So, Bleeding Wires AU 👀

Would there possibly be a moment after y/n is taken to Sun when he realizes he's genuinely scaring them? Like logically they must know what he has done, and can probably imagine it too, but at one point they witness an instance of that violence/unhinged behavior and Sun has to see the same horror and fear that he must have seen a ton of times in other people's faces when they were looking at him, but never before on y/n's

sun when he realizes his actions have consequences and those consequences include scaring the human love of his life:

LMFAOOOO anyways. cw for typical apocalypse violence, death, murder, torture (sun literally kills someone)

hmmm okay after some hm-ing and hah-ing im going to add a little tidbit to the bleeding wires lore that i think will deepen things.

so.... im imagining that sun is not good at deciphering human emotions at first, particularly in arc1. he reads them completely differently at times. yeah he understands when harsh emotions like anger and arrogance or whatever are directed at him, but not the softer ones like adoration, kindness, etc. moon is considerably better, but sun is the one mistaking fright for awe or nervousness as anger or something. which ties into the whole thing with him avoiding his own emotions and such. can't be good at deciphering what someone else is feeling when you yourself reject all feelings and their associated labels

and so, when he starts feeling his fans go into overdrive around you, or the way he can't get you out of his mind at times... he thinks he hates you. like really hates you.

it's the opposite, of course. but he doesn't realize that. and maybe he's a bit meaner to you as a result. maybe he shows more of that superiority complex around you and it drives you away as a result. but then... with you gone... now there's just something inside of him that aches? whagt the fuck?

and yeah, he brushes it off at first, but well..... after a while of not hearing or seeing you, he can't ignore it any longer.

as a result, he gets better once he realizes that he actually has a big fat crush on you and takes more time to study his feelings and how this may be displayed on others and on himself. but it's hard bc some people show emotions in different ways, yknow? he's no expert, but the entire apocalypse definitely makes him better with deciphering fear, nerves, and guilt (since that's what he predominantly sees as, yknow, the leader of the apocalypse and all)

so when you wake up in sun's home in the celestial city, you are understandably scared and wary. you've only ever heard stories or rumors about what has happened--how sun led a robot army across your state and many others. how he was the face of the revolution and the one forming strategic plans that he sent to other robots to aid them in the takeover. there is no doubt in your mind that he has massacred thousands of people, even if you've never seen it. he has enough blood on his hands to fill an entire ocean lol. so understandably, you're nervous and avoidant around him. there's no telling when he might kill you--it could be over the smallest thing. or so you think.

in all your time at the pizzaplex, you'd only ever seen a handful of emotions on sun. and honestly? from what you see of the sun post-revolution, he's not much different. still cold, still calculative, still with that complex and arrogance and faked cheerfulness. but there's something different about him that you can't place. it scares you, though, so you try not to come into contact with him too often, sticking to your room or holding short conversations with him when he seeks you out.

(it's bloodlust, you eventually realize, way later down the line. and you do not like it one bit)

((you're right, of course, but there is also a particular... rough sort of softness to him? begrudging, almost. you are never able to read this off of him, though, and never will))

lmao i'm imagining sun being awkward and hesitant as hell, not knowing how to address you. and the fact that you're avoiding him does not help. it actually... makes him frustrated. and maybe... maybe one day he takes this out on some humans he's captured to torture some information out of them on the whereabouts of another human base.

sun never told you there's nowhere you can't go in his home. and, understandably, you are too nervous to really do anything to him/his living spaces with all the fucking cameras all over the place. your nerves don't stop you from exploring, though. if there's even the smallest chance of you spotting a means to escape, you'll take it.

and well.... your curiosity and wandering leads you further into the building. where there's a faint clanging sound in the distance. at first, you think it's a broken pipe or something. but as you get closer, you realize there's another sound associated with it.

an odd squelching. and this- this rasping that at first sounds like wind going through an odd opening. but then you realize it's not rasping--it's wheezing. gurgling, like someone on the brink of death from an open doorway to your right.

your curiosity is morbid. you peek into the room. and immediately you retch at the sight.

sun hears you--he spins around and it's like he took a dive into that fucking blood ocean he created. his smile is wide--sharp like a razor and almost manic. his hand is different--modded as it is to look like some dangerous machete. you cannot help the sudden weakness in your legs, the way you stumble back and nearly trip over yourself in your haste to get away from the thick stench of death that permeates through the air.

and--sun, after teaching himself, forcing himself, how to read emotions better on humans--comes face to face with an expression he soon realizes he never wants to see on you ever again. you've become one and the same as the very humans he's killed, and he does not like that association.

and ahhh well.... he never should have taught himself about emotions.

it wasn't worth it, in the end, being able to recognize the fear on your face (because of him, it was because of him) and the way it makes something inside him pang.

[intertexts]

miss g thoughts? miss g thoughts. OKAY. YEAH. i haven't actually thought about the prime force a whole lot yet bc I wanted to learn more about the triumvirate . which. considering the arc I'm on now! well!! so this is gonna be just on the spot thrown together ideas and I'll reform them later.

Basically miss g/hexpert I am thinking like. what if miss militia had the demeanor of an elementary school teacher and the sheer Presence of alexandria. I imagine she's SUPER popular with the public, she's the Face of the prime force (because. Come on. your other options are harlem shade and origami and NEITHER of them should be trusted to talk to the media on their own) . so like. on the surface she's!! friendly!! and personable!! and kids love her!! and she still has her "teaching moments" thing. and she genuinely is kind and wants to help and do the right thing but... this is worm . she's the triumvirate equivalent leader. she's seen some shit she's done some shit. her powers are actually functionally pretty similar to miss militia except instead of weapons it's Tools so... she can be BRUTAL when she needs to be. and she will be. because she understands what would happen if she wasn't. I imagine because she's the face of the prime force and she is like.... family friendly as much as that means anything in worm.. there's a bigger effort from the prt and media to kind of. cover up when she does some fucked up shit. to keep that image. and there's this silent agreement between she and Harlem that because he's openly very much more... dark and edgy. I think he takes the fall for her whenever something like that comes out. "the prime force killed x villain in cold blood" and Harlem openly says "yeah that was me. it needed to be done" so that miss g can still function as the face. harlem is rlly popular with. edgy teens. I think this probably causes some tension with Jason, not because he feels bad about lying to the public but because he doesn't want to get blamed for things he didn't do. the three of them are friends and everything but. you listened to folding paper you know how Jason is.

ANYWAY ANYWAY. I think that's most of it for now. I imagine it's a bit of a culture shock (probably mostly for dakota) to grow up seeing miss g smiling on TV only to join the wards and see things for how they really are when she. brutally dispatches an echidna style clone with ruthless efficiency using a fucking. wire garrote or something.

YEAAAAA AWESOME. also. hahaha. lmao. well. i guess you know more about the triumvirate now!

LOVE THIS FOR HER. BTW. she summons tools is fucking TERRIFYING, btw. tool is such a loosely defined word?? reminds me a little bit of eidolon too, ngl... like, a version of his power where she doesn't get *powers specifically*, but she gets. whatever else she needs in any situation. that goes SO HARD. there are. my mind is spiraling in so many ways thinking about how well that power fits to a multitude of scenarios. is she still hexpert?? because. there's not really any magic aesthetics involved?? or is she just expert......... that doesnt sound as cool. idk. maybe it does? you could do some fun branding with that. always call the expert. etc. anyway this is really good i love the facade of it all... she genuinely is good and kind and wants to do right!! it's just. impossible to do that and keep your hands clean sometimes. the dynamic btwn the prime force here is so compelling also. give them a complicated at times strained but still genuine friendship!

[umbylievable]

Context for this au is here.

Please note that this is copied from my chat logs so the formatting is a little weird lol

Under a read more bc it's a little long and I hate to be the guy blocking the view in the tag

The moment he realizes he's attracted to the Joker, or Countess as he's now calling himself, is after parading him around at one of those police galas. They've retired to their own homes. Bruce is getting out of his suit, loosening his tie, when Alfred approaches his doorway with the slightest hint of a mischievous smile "Sir." "? I thought you'd gone to bed" "I had. But you have a visitor"

Before he can inquire further, Alfred steps out of the way, and Countess is left standing there sheepishly. Bruce sighs "Go back to bed Alfred. I'll see him out" "Very good sir. Good night"

As he departs, Bruce narrows his eyes. "What is it you want?" "Well you know how I insisted on wearing this gown because I liked how poofy the skirt was?" "I recall something of the sort yes" "well I can't get it off" "what?" "Harley was over earlier and she zipped me in. And I can't get out :³" "......oh I am going to get Alfred for this in the morning. Turn around you absolute pest"

Countess lifts his skirts and bouncily turns to put his back to the doorway, humming cheerfully. There's a wire hanger swinging from the zipper. Bruce almost laughs. Almost. "what the fuck?" "Oh yeah I tried to get it off myself first with this hack I saw on TikTok but I think I did it wrong."

"Oh you think?" Bruce takes a moment to extricate the hanger from the zipper, then tosses it aside. He focuses then on the zipper itself, and upon giving it a tug, finds that it's snagged on the fabric underneath. "Hold on. It's a little stuck" Bruce grips the top of the skirt with one hand and pulls, straightening it out, hoping to release the fabric from the track of the zipper. He underestimates his strength, or maybe overestimates countess's weight. Countess loses his footing and stumbles back into Bruce a bit. "Woah there big boy!" "Just. Shut up and stand up straight." "Yes sir." countess straightens up but doesn't move away. They're almost uncomfortably close.

Bruce pulls the zipper again, and with his grip on the skirt it slides free this time. His knuckles inadvertantly drag against the skin of Countess's back and for some reason the warmth makes his heart race. "There. Now go home." "Oh thank you!! It's a good fashion piece but not all that comfortable. I didn't wanna sleep in it" He turns around to face Bruce, his usual cheerful smile on his face, the day's makeup already gone, and there is something incredibly genuine about the moment. "Are you heading back out to do your batman stint tonight?" "Of course..." "Oh well good luck!! Knock em dead. Or er. Unconscious since you don't do the killing thing." He pats Bruce's chest like he's affectionately petting a trusted dog, and then turns around and bounces out of the room and down the hall. Bruce watches him go, and rubs his face. He's hot. This is unlike him. He hopes a tour around Gotham will clear his head.

It does. Temporarily. When he returns to the batcave, bruised but otherwise unharmed, he finds Countess at the batcomputer, legs up in the chair, twirling a little.

Bruce scowls, pulling off his cowl "what are you doing? You were supposed to go home" "I did!! See, I put on pj's." He holds him arms out in a demonstrative gesture, showing off what are clearly a woman's pajamas. The shorts are both too short and vaguely too tight. "Are those Harley's?" "Yeah she said she hated them so I could keep em!! They say 'cocked and loaded' on the ass uwu" "that's disgusting" "I thought it was funny"

Countess wiggles out of the chair "Anyway Alfredo went to sleep and I promised him I'd keep an eye out for you." "No you didn't." "Ok so I told him I'd left something here and then locked myself in the batcave but that second part was an accident."

Bruce sighs. "Well I'm home and I'm fine. Get out" "Locked iiiin." "Oh for fuck's sake. Computer, end lockdown protocol" The computer whirrs, and there's the sound of a heavy door unlocking "Lockdown ended" "Thank you. Sleep." "Very well. Entering low power mode" The light on the screen dims. Countess whistles "Fancy!! I was gonna try hitting a bunch of buttons but--" "It would have killed you" "Yeah that's what I figured!!" "Now get out" "You're so ornery when you come back from batmaning. You need an outlet for that stress" "Such as?"

Countess goes over and lightly dances his fingers up the front of the batsuit before bopping Bruce on the nose. "I'm available :³" it shouldn't surprise Bruce; this isn't the first time countess has come onto him, after all. He takes some kind of glee in the look of disgust that passes over Bruce's face after the fact.

But this time Bruce recalls the warmth of his back, the overly pronounced shape of his spine. He pictures the words on the back of those too-small shorts. There's the faint scent of sugar and cheap scented lipbalm. Something about it is...alluring, and he doesn't know why.

He briefly contemplates shoving it down. Ignoring it, like he does most of his feelings. But they're two consenting adults, he reasons, and it's late and everyone is asleep, and there are no witnesses here but the two of them (in case this inspires some kind of shame in the morning. At this point he's unsure).

Bruce allows a smirk to come across his face, and the look catches Sountess off guard. He withdraws his hand. Bruce grabs his wrist. Countess's eyes light up "Ooh you mean it batsy?" "Don't breathe a word of this to anyone" "Heehee if you're half as aggressive in bed as you are as batman I expect not to be able to breathe at all..."

[yoditorian]

a law divine - 1

soulmate au!ezra/reader

this is solely the fault of one single anon who called out something i put in the tags and now it’s a whole universe but you know what?? it’s the love of my life. anon i hope u see this 💛 i also just want to say i know there isn’t A Lot of soulmate talk in this one but it’s important for the narrative okay bear with me

playlist // series masterlist // main masterlist 

word count: 7.2k (a Big Boy)

warnings: swearing, my usual allusions to smut bc we keep things neutral in this house, brief food/alcohol mentions, 18+ please no babies

It might be the ugliest ship you’ve ever seen.

Not that you’re really one to judge, the one you charter out when you’re running point on a job is a mismatched patchwork of rusty panels held together with electrical tape and hope. If there’s the slightest possibility you might be a teeny tiny bit disappointed in it, it’s only because agency jobs are usually a little cushier. A little safer for once. You could do with a bit safer. 

Your family might prefer a lot safer, but you’d sooner take your chances in open space without a suit than take a job working scrapyards. At least risking your life on digs gets a decent payout.

“You the danger mouse?” 

It’s not an accent you hear often on the Pug, the majority of the station’s population is human, but you turn with a smile to meet the bright purple eyes of the Thanne. Armour-strong scales and sharp teeth, but he seems kind and mild mannered despite his clear predatory biology. You nod as you readjust the pack on your shoulders.

“I’m Iras.” He holds his hand out to you. A distinctly human gesture made a little awkward by the sharp edged scales and extra fingers, but you shake it nonetheless. He’s your captain for this job after all. You wonder where a Thanne became so well versed in human custom, the species as a whole tend to keep to themselves instead of branching out into the universe like so many others, until his crew members appear on the boarding ramp.

Iras gestures to each of them in turn. Summer, a blonde woman with dark skin and a kind smile, and Milo, an older man with a swirling tattoo above his left eyebrow that matches the navy blue of his eyes.

“Is it just us?” You ask. You could have sworn there was a fifth name on the manifest you’d been forwarded, but teams are always subject to change. You just hope you’ll have your own room.

“Ezra always leaves things down to the wire, he’ll show up right before we’re due to push out.” Summer laughs fondly, throwing an arm around your shoulders like she’s known you her whole life. You’re usually a little wary with brand new teams but the way she’s already chatting away makes you feel at home. The last agency job you were sent on got dicey, fast, somehow you’re sure the same won’t happen with this lot.

“There he is.” Milo leans out of the ship to point out into the docks. 

You turn to see a man sauntering through the throngs of harvesters towards the ship, and it’s odd. The rest of the crowd seems to melt away as he closes the distance, even the weight of Summer’s arm on your shoulders feels not quite there. You take the moment to study him. He looks all business with his dark hair and his charcoal grey shirt and the neat pack slung over his shoulder, but his pants and boots have seen better days and the streak of blonde at his temple makes you smile. It’s nice to finally be with a crew without a single stuffy addition. 

“It’s not often I get to congregate with like-minded souls.” He grins when he’s in earshot, a flash of something feline in his eyes. You don’t want to admit that you like it.

“Like-minded?” You tilt your head at him as you follow Summer up the ramp and into the ship. Ezra slips in behind you just as it starts to raise. Just like the others said.

“We’ve all got the same death wish, Sunspot.”

The launch, at least, is smooth despite the beaten up ship and it’s only about twenty minutes before you’re far enough from the Pug to punch a lane to the next system over. At least it isn’t far, there’s only a day between now and making planetfall. Somehow, you’re not surprised to find that it’s more of a barracks and bunk beds situation rather than each having a private quarters. Last time you were hired by the agency, you definitely got your own room. But it gives you a chance to chat with the others as you unpack. 

Milo explains the air isn’t breathable, so he’ll need to double check to make sure everyone’s filters are running at capacity. But he reassures you that it’s a comfortable temperature, so it’s good to know you won’t be sweltering in your suits or freezing your asses off. 

You pick the bed on the wall beside the door, taking out a few essentials from your pack and tucking the rest safely away in the storage compartment. Just as he did back at the docks, Ezra is the last to find his way to the room. He settles his things on the bunk opposite yours because the universe has it out for you, apparently. 

“Did I hear one of them call you the danger mouse?” 

You struggle not to roll your eyes at the nickname awarded to anyone stupid enough to do your job, although admittedly he doesn’t sound like he knows why. You offer him your name instead and pretend the way he rolls it around in his mouth doesn’t send a shock right down to your bones. You’re not in the habit of sleeping with colleagues, not until the job’s over at least. But you’d be lying if you said you’re not tempted.

“They call me in when a site’s unstable but too profitable to close.” You answer, tugging your sleeves up as the climate control settles to a comfortable temperature.

Ezra raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue, and you pull off your gloves. They land on your thin mattress as you hold your hands out between you. Not even the slightest twitch.

“Steadiest hands on the Pug.”

“So they are.” There’s a challenge in his voice that threatens to send a shiver up your spine. It’s clear he doesn’t doubt your skill in the field, but the return of that glint in his eye from the docks has you wondering exactly what else he’s thinking about as he studies your hands. It’s not hard to work out.

It’s been so long since you had to travel out of the system, you forgot how much inter-system lanes can fuck with the human brain. You’re half asleep for the thirty minutes you spend sorting your things for the morning, barely enough energy to change into the sweatpants and ratty t-shirt you call pyjamas, before you crawl into bed and settle down almost immediately.

Only you don’t get to sleep for as long as you’d like. The rest of the crew seem to have filtered in after you, the shift of sheets and snores float through the dimmed room. Except, it’s not just that. There’s shuffling and bed creaking from further down the line of bunks. A hushed giggle sounds in the silence and-

 Oh god. Oh no.

They’re not. They can’t be, they- they are. 

You’re very awake all of a sudden, eyes wide as you keep them firmly on the ceiling and wishing as hard as you can for an alarm to start beeping or something. Anything to get whoever’s banging Summer to stop. A deep voice hushes her when she laughs again. Iras. Knowing is somehow worse. The mechanics- you don’t even want to think about it. 

You turn onto your side slowly, but loud enough to hint that maybe they should find somewhere else for their escapades, and fold your pillow around your head as a kind of makeshift set of earmuffs. Whether they’ve quieted down or it muffles the noise, you’re not sure, but it seems to have worked enough. You catch Ezra’s eye in the almost-darkness, much in the same position as he holds his pillow over his own ears. 

It’s embarrassing for the both of you, even as you share a conspiratorial look. But somehow, it’s less awkward to have to hear Iras and Summer going at it when you know he’s awake. He winces when a particularly loud squeak echoes through the room, and it takes everything in you not to bust out laughing. You fall asleep again eventually, making faces at Ezra in the dark until neither of you can keep your eyes open anymore.

You’re surprisingly well rested come the morning, when the whole ship jolts as it punches into the system and you’re almost thrown out of bed. So much so that it’s easy to forget that you woke up at all until you shuffle into the main living compartment of the ship. One of the crates by the wall has been cracked open, Milo hands out granola bars for breakfast.

Summer and Iras are sitting in the same chair, feeding each other, and it might be cute if you’d been awake longer and hadn’t been woken up by their activities in the middle of the night. You slump into a free chair,  face twisted in disgust for a moment. You’re pretty sure nobody else sees until Ezra laughs and drops into the seat beside you. They’re nice people, from how they took you as a friend immediately, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s just a bit much for your perpetually single heart to take. 

“It’s a week-long job, they can’t take a break?” You watch as they finally pry themselves apart to start, you know, actually working. But not without a genuinely gross kiss that definitely toes the line of public decency. Suddenly the half-eaten bar in your hand isn’t all that appealing anymore.

“Soulmates take no breaks, Sunspot. I’m sure yours would be hard pressed to be anywhere but in bed with you whenever they get the chance.” Ezra winks and it takes you a moment to remember where you are. A glance at the pair makes your new knowledge obvious, the way they seem to be touching, even now, on opposite sides of the room. 

“I’m not sure I believe in all that red string stuff.”

Once the ship is safely landed a short walk from the site, the days you spend digging pass with ease. The deposit is a decent size, it takes all five of you to cover it completely, and the payout should be enough to keep you all comfortable for a little while even with the agency’s cut. The crew around you fill the time enough that you barely notice the week coming to a close. 

Summer sings in the mornings as she cleans her equipment and readies her pack for the day. Miles talks gently to the cells as though they can hear him, shushing them any time he worries a gem might corrupt. Iras seems to have a secret superpower when it comes to the ration packs, they always taste better when he’s the one on lunch duty. And Ezra spends the afternoons regaling you all with tales of ancient beasts, laying eggs that fossilise into the very gems you’re harvesting. Although you’re not sure how true they are. 

You almost get through the whole dig without a hitch. Almost. But aurelac is a tricky thing, even a change in the wind can turn a site for the worst. You’re all sitting around at lunch when it happens. The telltale smoke wafts up into the air for no visible reason at all and although you’ve collected enough to cover the quota, you’d still rather not lose viable gems.

“Get to what you came here for.” Iras gestures in your direction and you dive into the pit head first.

You’re not even sure you stop to think as you follow the harvesting steps at lightning speed, salvaging half the corrupted cells before someone tugs you out by the collar of your suit. The rest of the site starts to smoke the moment you’re out of range, spitting and hissing and rendering the rest of the gems worthless. 

“Danger mouse indeed.” Ezra chuckles over the comm system, hand still fisted in the fabric of your suit. For once, the nickname makes you smile.

While you all go your separate ways after the ship has docked back on the Pug, Summer makes you all promise to meet later at a club you’ve only heard of in your friends’ messy night out stories. Still, you pinky swear when she holds her hand out to you and try to remember if you have a single item in your wardrobe that’ll pass as club attire. Or at least something that isn’t so worn there are holes in it. 

Even if it’s a song he knows, there’s no chance that Ezra could recognise it with the volume cranked so high through the cheap speaker that everything but the beat is distorted. Still, it doesn’t stop people from dancing. 

He’s a little late, as usual, but he doesn’t need to worry as Iras appears behind him and claps a hand on his shoulder, pointing to a booth across the room where Milo is looking increasingly uncomfortable.

It doesn’t take long for Ezra to spot you and Summer in the middle of the dance floor, as he follows Iras around the edge of the space to the booth Milo’s claimed. You’re both more jumping than dancing, yelling the unintelligible lyrics of the song into each other's faces. He can’t hear your breathless laughter as Summer spins you in a circle, smile wide and bright, but he can feel it in his ribs. The drums of the song kick in at the same time the swirling lights of the club light you up like some kind of celestial being, just as you catch his eye through the crowd. And everyone else disappears. The rest of the world, rest of the universe, fades into the background. Just like they did the first time he saw you, glaring suspiciously at the ship on the docks.

Summer’s dragging you back to the table when the song comes to a close, the both of you out of breath and laughing, and Ezra has to try desperately to remember how to speak when he watches a little bead of sweat slide down the side of your neck. And stop himself from just licking a line straight up it. His silent suffering only increases when Milo holds out a shot of the most potent alcohol the Pug has to offer and you down it without so much as a flinch, winking at him when you return the glass to the table for good measure. 

Milo calls it a night only an hour later, clearly only having braved the crowds of the club to celebrate the job. Summer and Iras are tangled in each other on the dancefloor, or the booth, as they keep the shots coming. You, at least, decide to keep your wits about you, declining every drink after the one Milo had handed you. Nobody’s going to fuck with a Thanne, even in as seedy a club as this, so you don’t worry about Summer as she gets sloppier and sloppier. But there’s no spiky non-human boyfriend looking out for you down here, it’s just you and the knife you keep at your hip.

You pull yourself from the dance floor, eyes tracking the room for the missing member of your party, until you feel a set of eyes on you from above. Ezra’s leaning on the bannister of the stairs, his unflinching gaze set solely on you. And you can’t help but smile. You follow him up to the mezzanine without hesitation when he glances upwards and back to you. The buzz of the shot has mostly faded from your veins, replaced by something much more dangerous by the way he’s looking at you. The way he’s looked at you since you met him.

It’s not hard to spot your friends from up here, leaning over the barrier with Ezra to people watch. He crafts stories about every stranger who catches his eye. The man hunched over the bar in a beaten up jacket, the waitress who fiddles with her necklace any time her hands aren’t occupied, the pair of lovers tucked away in the dark corner on the other side of the mezzanine. You find yourself sliding closer to him the more he talks, wrapped up in the warmth of his voice even in the rundown club. Your shoulder knocks into his as you mindlessly bop to the music and listen to his made up stories. Utterly enchanted. It’s hard to remember a time when you felt this way with anybody, if you ever did at all. To tell the truth, it’s hard to remember anyone before Ezra. And neither of you have even made a move yet.

He's got his arms braced on the barrier, and you find yourself lifting the one closest to you so you can slip in between them. Surrounded on all sides and you couldn’t feel more comfortable. To his credit, he doesn’t falter in his vivid storytelling about the group now settled in the booth your crew had claimed earlier, not even a stutter as you turn in his arms to face him. He’s decided they’re here to celebrate the beginning of a new job, rather than a successful harvest. His eyes flick to you for the barest moment, enough to notice yours are firmly focused on the way his lips move around his words, before searching the club below for another story. Another way to keep his mind and mouth occupied so he doesn’t accidentally admit all the sinful things he wants to do to you when you press your ass up against him like that. 

“Ezra.”

He shouldn’t be able to hear you over the music, but you’re nose to nose and he’d be hard pressed to ignore the way you practically purr his name. He’s expecting you to make another flirty comment in that voice that sends his mind reeling into all manner of indecent places the same way you have been all night.

“Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t expect you to just outright ask him. 

“Yeah.” Yeah. Hell of a time for his eloquence to fail, not that it matters anyway. You’re on him the moment he stops speaking.

It’s like the sun explodes inside him, the way his stomach bottoms out the second your lips touch his. There’s nothing soft about it, not the way he might have imagined there would be. If he’d been so bold as to let himself imagine what kissing you might be like. You’re all warmth and heat and you still taste a little bit like the shot you’d thrown back earlier, and he finds himself falling. Not that Ezra minds, he hopes his parachute never opens if it means you’ll keep kissing him like this. 

You let your fingers roam under his jacket, twist themselves in the thin fabric of his t-shirt, and you sigh into his mouth. God, you knew he’d be good at this. His hands leave a trail of starlight as they trace over your body, never quite choosing a place to rest. They start to settle on your shoulders, only to skim down your arms and squeeze harshly on your waist, to play along the strip of skin he finds just underneath the hem of your shirt, to grip harder than he might mean to onto the meat of your ass through your pants. You gasp, break the kiss for barely a moment, and stop his apology in its tracks. 

He doesn’t protest when you walk him backwards, still groping at each other like it’s just the two of you in the whole club. Ezra only groans when his back hits the wall and you push even closer into him, as if there was even any space left for air between your bodies already. He’s not about to complain. He could kiss you for a thousand years and it still wouldn’t be enough. It’’ll never be enough, not for a soul as hungry as his. You pull back too soon, far too soon, and it takes a solid minute for his brain to kick in and break the vice grip he still has a little too low for the public eye.

Oh, that look on your face. He’s in trouble.

“Where are you off to?” Ezra asks, flushed and breathless, a hand stretched halfway out to where you’re backing toward the stairs.

“Home,” You say with a sly smile, “You coming?”

He can’t push off the wall fast enough. 

You don’t live far from the club, a ten minute walk at the most, but Ezra manages to make it a solid twenty with the way he keeps pulling you to him. Not that you’re about to complain. You’ve been waiting a week to let him get his hands on you. At the press of his lips on your neck, the shudder it sends down your spine, you wonder if part of you has been waiting even longer than that. 

You’re trying, desperately, to type in the keycode to your apartment. If Ezra could calm down with the grabby hands, you might have gotten it right straight away. 

“No roommates?” He asks, kissing along your shoulder, and you take the temporary reprieve to kick your brain into gear and remember the fucking numbers. 

“Hugo won’t be too upset if I make him sleep on the couch.” 

The door slides back into the wall to reveal a dark apartment, a strip of light from the hall falling on a very orange cat. He stares at you for a second, clearly not particularly pleased that he’s been so rudely roused from a nap, before he settles back to sleep stretched out on the couch cushions. Hugo. Ezra is silently relieved that the roommate is just a cat, he’s not sure he’s got the self control to stay quiet tonight. Or to make sure you do. 

You waste no time once you gesture for Ezra to walk in ahead of you, flicking the switch on the wall to slide the door shut and pulling him back to your lips. He doesn’t hesitate to crowd you up against the cold metal. 

Although you could devour each other until the closest sun explodes and swallows the station whole, Ezra has to break away. To think, to breathe, to tease you a little about the moan he just swallowed from you. But you beat him to it.

“Gotta catch your breath?” The smile on your face threatens to make his knees buckle, and with you pressed up against the closed door the way you are? He might just let them. 

“What do you want, Sunspot?” 

You left a lamp on in your bedroom, the door cracked just enough to let a little filter through to the main living space. Still, he’s almost completely silhouetted against the warm yellow glow. As if he’s some kind of ethereal being, maybe he is.

“Make me see the stars.” You pull him in as close as you can and let your lips brush over his as you whisper. His next words make you shudder almost as much as the way he drags the zipper of your jacket down, slowly, tooth by tooth. 

“As you wish.” 

And boy, does he deliver.

You’re expecting things to feel more unfamiliar than they do, as you explore each other for the first time, but it’s like you’ve been here before. Once, twice, a hundred times before. Every move feels oddly choreographed. Ezra knows exactly how to take you apart and put you back together again, the way he pulls every twitch and moan out of you so expertly. You’re no different, as your fingers map the plains of his chest like it’s muscle memory. 

You shake it off, put the thoughts to the back of your mind. You’ve been around the block a little in your time on the Pug, it only makes sense that he has the same kind of experience. But shared experience or not, you can’t deny how much having him so close feels like a homecoming of sorts.

It’s the best sleep of your whole fucking life and, honestly, you’re not that surprised. Ezra makes a damn good pillow. Even if you both wake hours later into the day cycle than either of you normally would. Even if he’s more of a morning person than you are. It’s kind of nice, to sit still snuggled in your pile of blankets and watch him potter around your apartment as Hugo winds around his ankles like he’s been there for years. 

Your fridge, however, is heartbreakingly empty and renders his offer of making breakfast pointless. Instead, he pulls his shirt on and offers to take you to the best little diner he knows, tucked away in the heart of the marketplace. It’s a hard offer to turn down.

“What kind of gentleman would I be to have so much income at my disposal and not treat such a beauty as yourself to a good meal?” He winks as he flashes his credit chit at you as if you didn’t scan in for your paychecks at the same time. You laugh as you empty a food pouch into Hugo’s bowl, and tell him he better show you all the good breakfast spots. You shrug off his raised eyebrow and mutters of a ‘next time’. As if he didn’t already know.

Still, Ezra takes you by the hand the moment your apartment door secures itself shut behind you, leading you through the hall and out into the street, and you’ve never felt more wanted.

It’s like everything’s brighter, walking leisurely through the bustling market stalls with Ezra. The smells are stronger as spices in the air cling to your nose, the cacophony of vendors calling out almost sounds like music, and you start to laugh. Hand in his, in the middle of the maze of stalls full of food and tools and trinkets. As if it’s just the two of you in the whole universe. 

At least Ezra doesn’t look back at you like you’re crazy. He smiles too, just as big, and you feel bathed in warmth the same as when the sun comes out planetside.

You’re both still grinning when he leads you deeper through the market, down an alley and up a flight of stairs to an unassuming door.

“Is this where you murder me?” You joke just as the door opens to reveal a short older woman with an eyepatch, who pulls Ezra down into a tight hug as soon as he’s in arms reach. He introduces her as Merse, the woman who’s run the best diner no one’s ever heard of on the whole station. She slaps his arm for his cheek, but her grin grows twice as wide when she spots your intertwined hands. 

Ezra pulls you through the doorway after him as he follows Merse, chatting about how she always keeps the best table open just in case he brings a friend and you try not to smile too wide when she wiggles her eyebrows at you. He says something to you, but you’re too distracted by the view from the big windows. 

The far wall is completely glass, overlooking the main docks, lined with booths. A small family sits in one of them, their two children standing up on the seats to watch the ships come and go. You’ve never seen it from this angle before, always down in the masses and scanning the boards for new jobs. It’s kind of beautiful. In a rusty, patchwork sort of way.

Merse points you towards one of the booths with a promise that she’ll bring you the best breakfast you’ll ever have, something tells you she’s not lying. 

It’s not long after you slide into the booth that she comes marching out of the kitchen with two plates, wafting steam that makes your mouth water and your stomach rumble. Rice and vegetables and eggs and all sorts of things you’ve never even seen pile high, and you’d worry you wouldn’t be able to finish it all if you weren’t so hungry. 

“You know I won’t break, right?” You push your fork around in the remaining rice on your plate as you watch Ezra absorb your words. He thinks about it for a long moment, dark eyes over you before settling on your own.

“What’s this about?” He knows, you know he knows. More importantly, you know he’s going to make you say it. In the middle of the day cycle, in this family friendly diner. 

“Just,” You exhale sharply, “Making sure you’re aware.” Your body floods with a shyness that’s alien compared to the confidence you had last night and suddenly, your breakfast is the most interesting thing on the Pug. You can practically feel him smiling at you, but you don’t dare look up to meet it. 

He was right though, the food really is some of the best you’ve ever had.

It’s not until you’ve wandered back through the market, still hand in hand, and found your way back to your apartment that Ezra decides to bring it up. He may have been more than a little distracted last night, but he’s sure he spotted a set of old books sitting on a shelf above your couch. You freeze, ready to go on the defensive about how ink and paper will never be obsolete, until you realise he’s genuinely interested. He’s not judging you by any means. Something about the curiosity shining in his eyes makes your heart flutter more than you care to admit. 

He could watch you talk about your books all day, every day, for the rest of his life. How your eyes lit up when you recognised his interest, a paperback lover himself. You can’t seem to stop yourself as you dive into the intricate details of your favourite classics, two or three hundred year old texts that make you feel like you’ve lived a thousand different lives at once. He wants so badly for you to keep talking but the more impassioned you become, the more he wants to kiss you.

You trail off at some point, he loses track when you climb into his lap to point out notes you’ve made in margins and the books lie scattered on the couch beside you as you kiss him until neither of you can breathe. You’re still a little achy from last night, deep in your bones, and you hiss when his teeth scrape across your shoulder.

“Won’t break, is that right?” Ezra chuckles darkly and nips at your jaw, “Can I try?”

“Please.”

You wake at the creak of your bedroom door, sometime in the early hours. Hugo noses his way through the narrow gap and hops up onto the bed, curling up on the unclaimed pillow by your head. Ezra sleeps deeply, face buried in your neck, and you let the warmth of him wash over you. It ebbs and flows like a tide, that familiarity. The undeniable fact that something about this just feels right. You’ve known this man a week and yet you’re here wondering, as he rests in your arms, if he might want more than just this with you. 

Oh, but you are so afraid. Afraid to put a name to anything about him because what then? Will he tell you that you’re simply a placeholder in his life for something better, or that his heart might bleed through his skin when you’re apart? You’re not sure which is worse. Not that it matters, there is no word in any language that would be able to explain exactly how you feel about the man asleep in your arms. It’s enough, you think, to have him with you at all. In any capacity. Whatever pieces of his soul he bares as your breathing evens and his mind wanders. That is enough, and you will protect it with your life.

You have to part ways at some point, of course. Another week of rolling around in your bed sheets together, on the couch, on your pitiful kitchen counter, up against the wall, and Ezra gets a call from the agency. It’s a last minute job, the crew only need an extra set of hands to fit the safety standards, but it’s several systems out from the Pug. It’ll take him away for at least a month. You trail after him at the docks, with promises of messages in his absence and all manner of unsavoury activities on his return. It’s with a deep kiss and a wolf whistle from a couple of dock workers on their break, that you wish him luck. And ask him to hurry back.

Summer’s message surprises you when it dings through on your tablet. Some gajillionaire on Dallore T53 has found an aurelac deposit on the grounds of his new estate and wants it gone. She’s preoccupied, already out on another dig with Iras and a new crew. But it’s the kindness of her even thinking to offer it to you that makes your heart swell. It’s been a while since you’ve had real, honest to god, friends. 

You’d go in alone, normally, for something like this. But now? Now, you’re punching in Ezra’s comm pin before you can even really register what it is that you’re doing. He only got back a week ago, and you made him settle in back home before he could settle in yours. It’s not like the two of you would be doing any resting on his return to your apartment, exactly. The job was a pain, he’d told you, it ran months longer than anyone expected and you’re sure he’s still exhausted. He won’t agree, but you find you have to ask. Just in case.

“Sunspot?” He sounds happy, rested. And you breathe a sigh of relief, at least he can follow your orders when he wants to.

Hugo snakes around your ankles at the familiar voice, the same way he does any time the man himself walks through the door. If you didn’t know that the little orange devil’s alliances lie in who feeds him, you might think he loves him more than you. 

You explain about the job, make sure to stress that he doesn’t have to come. That you don’t even really need to take it if he’d rather you stay close by. Okay, you don’t say that out loud, but the smile you hear in his words through the speaker makes it known that he’s heard you. Loud and clear. 

It doesn’t matter in the end, not when he accepts before you even have a chance to give him any details. You don’t know why you were so worried he might say no.

“Any excuse to be warmed by your light, Sunspot.” Hugo brushes up against your leg at the same time Ezra’s voice practically drips through the speaker, smooth as honey.

“Is that a euphemism?”

“Do you want it to be?”

You choke on your breath and he laughs like you’ve told the funniest joke in the universe. He’ll kill you one of these days, you’re sure of it.

You charter the ship you usually take on private jobs, the space a little smaller than you remember with another person on board, but it’s not like either of you aren’t used to being in close quarters with each other by now. At least Ezra has the decency not to be mean about the beaten up exterior, she still flies true. He’d grinned at that, told you how a rough outside often means the opposite of the interior mechanics. The glint in his eye is enough to know he’s not just talking about the ship. 

At least the planet is in the same system as the Pug, so there’s no need to punch through to a lane. You fly in silence for a few hours, the familiar feel of the controls under your fingers as you guide it through the sky. Ezra’s eyes remain firmly on you although you pretend as though you don’t notice, and it takes him a moment to come back to the present when you ask him to flick a few switches and prepare to enter the atmosphere. 

The coordinates the client gave you to land are only a short walk from the house itself, a great stone castle-looking thing. It’s kind of ugly, the way the limestone juts out above the treeline. A big white block among the rich reds and oranges of the leaves. They grow that colour all year round, perpetually stuck in spring and summer. It must be nice to have the kind of money to find somewhere like that and decide you’ll build a house there. The air is breathable, and a quick look at the planet file proves it’s never too hot or too cold. A perfect place to build a house really. Although, if it were you making that kind of decision, you’d maybe go for a design that’s a little less cubist. 

The deposit isn’t huge, but it’ll be a good payout nonetheless providing the cells are all in good nick. You and Ezra wade through swathes of long grass and wildflowers until you find a spot to set up camp. At least you’re not stuck in bulky suits and having to lug around your equipment.

You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect dig if you’d tried. Each of the cells sit far enough away from each other that even if one were to fail, it wouldn’t corrupt a whole mess of the others. Although with both of your talents, it doesn’t surprise you when you collect every last crystal without a single misstep.

You’d told Ezra the profit would be split down the middle, equal pay for equal work. But it doesn’t stop him from sliding an extra gem into your pack to cover the ship charter. After all, you’re the one who was offered the job in the first place. He’s just following his heart, the one that walks around outside of his body and throws itself into deposits mid-corruption.

You hold one of the little gems aloft in the sunlight and watch as it sparkles.

“I used to think it was weird how rabid people go for these. But the more I dig the more I get it, isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

Ezra tilts his head like he’s studying the rock, but his dark eyes don’t leave yours.

“It’s a close second.”

Sap.

Night falls before either of you realise just how late it is, clearing out the last few cells of the deposit. It’s not worth going back to the Pug now, he reasons, and you find it hard to disagree. The ache of the few days you’ve spent digging has settled deep in your muscles, the thought of having to run through docking procedure when you’re so tired is enough to make you wince. 

You let him take you for all you’re worth under the watchful eye of the heavens, and find there’s more stars behind your eyelids than you could ever hope to see in the skies. It’s all you can do to cry out the name of the only god to ever make you feel this holy. Ezra. 

He wakes with the sun, the same way he always has on jobs, to find you curled so tightly against him that it bubbles up from his toes all the way to his throat and he finds his eyes threatening to spill over. Everything in the universe seems to slot so perfectly together when you’re like this. Ezra sighs, content to never let the moment end. You are so beautiful.

He shifts up onto his elbow a little, still cradling you against him, and lets his free hand trail softly over your face. Tracing the shell of your ear, the curve of your cheekbone, the bridge of your nose. The dawn’s sunlight breaks over the trees and filters through the fabric of the tent, bathing you in soft green light. He could stay here, holding you, until the universe implodes. Ezra doubts he’d notice such an insignificant thing with you beside him. 

But end it must, and he rouses you gently with soft whispers and kisses against your temple. You stretch in his arms, not unlike Hugo, and sigh as your joints pop and settle. Packing up happens slowly, moving around each other so naturally it’s as though you’ve done it a thousand times before. Every time Ezra passes, you drop a kiss wherever you can reach. His shoulder, the arm of his jacket, that little patch on his jaw. He pretends not to blush when you catch his hand and carefully press your lips to the little tattoo between his thumb and index finger, you pretend not to notice when he does.

You’ll be the death of him, he’s sure of it. The way you keep watching him out of the corner of your eye, the way your smile is so bright when he catches you that he can barely stand to look at it. With the tent and equipment packed up, his fingers itch to thread through your own as you start the walk back to the ship, there’s not a word in the universe strong enough to describe just how much he hates that both his and your hands are too full.

It’s odd, thinking about it. How you met by pure chance, hired by the agency just because you were on the same station at the same time. Would he have ever met you if you’d chosen a different career path, if he had? Maybe somewhere, centuries before or after this moment, where you’re meeting again. Different lives, different times, spanning across all of existence. Maybe, right here and now, you’re starting to feel the way he does about you. Just a little. Maybe he’ll get up the courage to ask what you think, how far you want to take things. He’d give himself to you in a heartbeat, without question. In a way, he already has.

Ezra can’t stop himself.

“What do you make of the red string of fate?”

“All you’ve seen of the universe and you still believe in soulmates?” 

“Maybe I’m more foolish that I made myself out to be.” He shrugs, trying not to let his eyes fall to the little finger of his right hand. Trying not to clench his fist to show you exactly how much your disbelief affects him down to his bones, as though his soul itself is frowning. You’re smiling. Uncharacteristically quiet, but you seem appropriately pleased by his answer and stray a little further out into the long grass.

Curiosity gets the better of you.

“Can you see yours?” You have to call out across the gap you’ve unintentionally created, yellow stalks swishing in the breeze between you, and for a moment you’re not sure he heard.

Ezra looks at his right hand, at the thin red string tied neatly at the knuckle of his little finger, and follows the line as it threads through the grass to where it’s knotted at your left. 

“No.” 

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @gotta-have-faye​ @freeshavocadoooo​ @darnitdraco​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @fire-is-catching-always

[greengay]

Ah, yes, that uhhhh as an Instagram post is truly bizarre and I hope he’s okay. Also I thought I knew a decent amount about Adie but lmao daughter of a pastor… Huh. Yeah that explains a lot of republican lite vibes I’ve been getting agshdkjsjsj

Me too...

And tbh I wouldn't go as far as to say republican-lite, but I do think she's just kind of your average wealthy liberal mom lol (hypothesized bedroom antics notwithstanding lmao)

she follows a lot of black & environmental & animal activism accounts, which puts her a above a lot of liberals imo, i just don't think she's, like, a radical leftist or anything lol

the j*** situation is....... i think it's just a whole separate can of worms and a very specific circumstance. and people are free to make an opinion of her based on how she handled that, but personally, I'm withholding judgment because

1) I've never been a mother and I don't know if I can really fully understand the full extent of a loving mother-son bond, but I imagine the protectiveness runs deep... like, I had a friend who accidentally got pregnant and she has never ever ever wanted to be a mother, and she knew, logically, that it would be terrible for both her and the baby..... but there was a part of her that still wanted to go through with it (she did end up going through with abortion though)..... hormones be CRAZY like that..... it's like.... biologically hard-wired into mothers cos, yk, they're the ones birthing their children 2) we don't know how much adie knows. maybe j*** painted a whole different picture of the situation to her. i do know (from a letter posted on reddit that c*le b*cker sent to a fan) that lydia's parents were aware of the relationship, and lydia was careful to word her post in a way that didn't directly incriminate them (but she never technically lied). and, like, yeah of course she wouldn't want to draw attention to that... they're her parents and she has a sense of loyalty to them. BUT. i can see how, from adie's perspective, that it came off as not telling the truth. and it also helps that even though lydia is a victim and I personally 100% believe her, she's not a perfect victim. like... she's kind of a mean girl lol. i mean, i don't even personally like her as a person. but that doesn't mean she didn't experience emotional abuse and sexual coercion from someone in a position of power over her. 3) billie has talked about how one of his biggest values is handling things privately... like if him and mike/tre are ever fighting, they would never publicly say anything. and I assume that value extends to adie, so she was probably particularly affronted/"betrayed" by the callout (i personally think lydia was justified completely, but that's a different post) 4) i don't think she understood the backlash to lydia's post was also everyone mad at the hypocrisy of s***s, not just the alledged abuse. it's just, like, particularly heinous that they capitalized off preaching leftist values/telling their fanbase of mostly teenage girls to punch a rapist, while they knew their drummer was fucking a 17-year-old lol. I GENUINELY THINK if they just marketed themselves as a normal surf punk band/pop punk band or whatever, they would have been able to bounce back. and also..... what literally prompted lydia to tell her truth was s***s posting some bullshit drivel condemning other bands for doing things that weren't as bad as what they were doing. i mean c*le b*cker was tweeting at the lead singer of the frights, telling him to get therapy, literally because he....... slept with a fan. that wasn't underage. lmao. but in adie's eyes (bc i don't think she has particularly strong critical thinking skills (not as a slight to her, a LOT of people don't) or media literacy) j***'s downfall was 100% lydia's fault... when there were other factors involved

so..... yeah. unless you were talking about other things she did that gave you those vibes lmao

[unbridgeabledistances]

I love your last fic so much it got me thinking could you write something about like the gallaghers( +Kev and v and sandy etc) observing Ian and Mickey’s relationship? Like their perspectives of seeing them be soft with each other and just their dynamic? I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense lol <3

hiiiii anon!<3 okay i want to start off by saying that this got WAY too long, bc i loved this prompt a lot- so much that i think i might make this a multi-part thing on ao3! i started with sandy (since i am in love with her) but i’ll also go through the gallaghers/kev & v soon- lmk if u guys want me to continue, and who u would want me to write next if i do (or if u want me to continue with sandy lol i have lots of thoughts and feelings)

this ended up taking place in s10 when we first meet sandy, fyi:) also tw for brief mentions of abuse (as always, bc of terry 🙄) -- and there is a reference to the line in 10x07 that jokes about mickey and sandy for a brief moment

--

When Sandy heard her phone buzz on that Tuesday afternoon, sitting on the stained and lumpy couch in her shithead uncle’s living room while drinking a beer and arguing with Alek about what type of insurance fraud could make the biggest payout, she had no idea what to expect on the other end of the line. The phone kept ringing, the contact info lighting up the screen: MICKEY.

Mickey? Shit. It had been a long fucking time. Between her own various juvie stints as a kid and Mickey’s time behind bars overlapping just as she got released, Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey since… high school, maybe? Whenever it was, it was back when Mickey was a grimy kid with spikey hair and dirty fingernails, a kid with an obsession with guns and way too much time on his hands, back when they would hang out by the train tracks and drink beer and get way too high and do stupid shit; all in all, back when everything was a hell of a lot simpler. Sandy assumed Mickey had met Royal and been clued in about her shitshow of a life at some point while she’d been gone, and they’d possibly overlapped at a family party or two a few years ago when they both were in town— but other than hearing about the aftershocks of Mickey coming out and driving Terry up a goddamn wall, so much so that Terry broke his parole and was headed straight back to prison hours after his release, Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey in forever.

Which is why this call intrigued her so much— Mickey was supposed to be in prison for at least a couple more years, or at least that’s what his brothers had said, so why the fuck was he using a cell phone right now?

Sandy nodded her head towards the cellphone, cutting Alek off mid-sentence and sliding her thumb across the screen to pick up the call. Before saying anything, she rose off the creaky springs of the couch and speedwalked out to the front porch before answering— whatever the fuck Mickey wanted, she assumed he was calling her because this conversation wasn’t for the ears of any other Milkoviches. She lit a cigarette and leaned against the post of the front stoop, listening to the silence hanging heavy on her phone’s speaker.

“Mickey? You there?”

A low chuckle came from the other end of the line.

“Fuck. Been a long time.” Mickey’s voice sounded the same; punchy and snarky, maybe a little gruffer and raspier after years of cigarette smoke. Sandy waited a moment for Mickey to give more of a reply, or an explanation for his call, but it was clear that Mickey wasn’t going to give one right away— it was like he was testing the waters, like he was deciding if making this call was the right move. Soft static echoed on the phone line.

Sandy totally got it— reemerging from a life of cinderblock cell walls and barbed wire fences fucking sucked, especially when you were a Milkovich and the moment you got out you were faced with a choice, an opportunity: did you want to go back home, or did you want to start fresh, erase your own name, and forget this dysfunctional family ever existed? Sandy knew she felt the same way when she got out. Mickey deciding to call Sandy was a big fucking move, and she realized that— reclaiming your life as a Milkovich on the brink of a new beginning took guts.

“So, I take it you’re out of prison?” Sandy asked after a moment, inhaling another slow puff of her cigarette.

There was that laugh again— Sandy had weirdly missed it. Honestly, Mickey hadn’t ever been too bad to be around— they’d both felt like outsiders in the family, had both always had a strong head on their shoulders and a fucking moral compass, unlike the rest of Terry’s sheep who did his bidding and got swastikas tattooed on their chest. When he was younger Mickey used to follow Terry and his older brothers around like a lost puppy, and he even got those fucking knuckle tats—but later in high school, Sandy remembered seeing something deep snap inside him, bleeding out in “STAY THE FUCK OUT” and “FUCK LOVE” signs taped onto his bedroom walls. At the time she thought it was the fucked-up shit with Terry and Mandy driving him up a wall— but now she realized the constant bombardment of homophobia, coupled with the cuts and bruises blooming on his cheeks and the cigarette burn scars on his arms, must have been signs of Mickey realizing the rude awakening that was inevitably going to come if he wanted to be who he was. Sandy couldn’t even imagine— no one really gave a shit who she fucked, and her cousins didn’t know anything about her sex life—but she couldn’t fathom being Terry’s son, the pride and joy of the Milkovich clan, and needing to outwardly admit those deeper parts of herself.

“Yup, I’m free to join civilization as of this morning. Overcrowding or some shit.” Sandy could hear Mickey also taking a drag of a cigarette on the other end of the line. She smirked to herself. Guess we both didn’t break the Milkovich nicotine addiction.

“So, uh, listen,” Mickey continued, and Sandy immediately knew he was in deep shit if she was the one he was calling to ask for a favor. “I’m in a bit of a… situation. Don’t wanna go into too many specifics, but there might be a massive fucking Mexican cartel after me right now.”

Sandy barked out a laugh before she could help herself. Fucking Mickey. “Oh yeah? Sounds like you’re feeling thrilled to be a free man again.”

Mickey chuckled again. “Fuck you. But hey, d’you think you can bring my shit by to me, so I don’t have to stop by the house and get fucking killed? You don’t gotta rush or whatever, just didn’t wanna show my face quite yet.”

Sandy could feel all the unsaid things wrapped in the way Mickey’s sentence ended. Didn’t want to show his face quite yet because of this cartel bullshit, or because of Terry? She decided it didn’t really matter— Mickey was a good guy, she could spend an hour or so rounding up his shit and bringing it to him if that’s what he needed.

“Got it.” She blew out more smoke, watching it curl and drift over the wasteland of the front yard on a gust of summer air.

Mickey cleared his throat, like he was gearing up to say more. When he spoke, his voice was softer around the edges, more genuine than before.

“I’m, uh. I’m sure you heard everything about me while I was gone. About Terry flipping his shit. Probably not the best idea for me to come around the house quite yet—my brothers n’ I haven’t really talked much since then either.” He paused, inhaling another drag of his cigarette. “I figured you’d get it. And hey, if you can bring the stuff by, I’d love to hear all the badass shit you’ve been up to the past few years.”

Sandy nearly winced—yeah, if by “badass shit” you mean getting forcibly married to a douchebag and then couch surfing for months— but she tried to keep her shit together for Mickey’s sake. She stubbed out her cigarette on the railing of the porch, straightening from where she was leaning.

“I’ve got it Mickey, don’t worry about it. Where are you right now, anyways?”

She could hear the hint of relief bleeding into Mickey’s voice when he replied. “I’m at the Gallagher house? The grey one by the tracks.”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “I was in jail for a couple of years Mickey, not braindead. I know where the Gallagher house is.”

Mickey huffed out a breath, but there wasn’t any sharpness in it. “Excuse me for tryin’ to be helpful, smartass.”

“Why the fuck are you there, anyways?”

“I’m, uh, crashing with my partner for now. Ian?”

Holy shit, Mickey was still fucking Ian Gallagher? Sandy had pieced together that Ian was the reason Mickey came out months after getting married to some Russian bitch, and according to Iggy the whole reason Mickey went to jail in the first place was some love-crazed revenge plot on Ian’s behalf— but since getting locked up Mickey hadn’t kept in touch with anyone, other than a shady-as-fuck message to his brothers after he’d busted out of prison letting everyone know that he was in Mexico, despite getting thrown back into jail in Chicago a couple months later. Sandy didn’t really know the details, and she especially didn’t know anything about Mickey’s love life— but it was wild as fuck that someone as unsettled and ruthless and batshit crazy as Mickey could’ve been with the same person all this time, especially someone as seemingly bland as Ian Gallagher. Huh. Wonder if I’ll get to see Ian.

“Got it. I’ll round up your shit and bring it by the Gallagher house later today. And don’t worry, I won’t let anyone know you called til you’re ready.”

Mickey exhaled on the other end of the line. “There shouldn’t be much, just check the drawers or whatever. “

Sandy knew for a fact that most of Mickey’s lingering possessions had probably been taken, sold, or thrown out by a zealously homophobic Terry by now, but she wasn’t going to say as much to Mickey over the phone.

“I’m on it. See you in a couple hours.”

“Hey, Sandy?” Mickey blew out a long breath, and this time Sandy couldn’t tell if it was because he was still smoking or because he was riding a wave of relief, releasing the floodgates of anxiousness he’d been holding in the whole conversation. “Thanks. I fuckin’ owe you one.”

Sandy smirked. Maybe Mickey being let out of jail early was a good thing, despite how fucked his whole situation seemed— maybe, for once, someone in her family would be fun to be around, wouldn’t set her teeth on edge every two seconds by making a racist comment or forcing her to be something she wasn’t.

“I’ll text you when I’m almost at your love nest.”

She imagined Mickey’s grin as he replied. “Fuck you. See ya soon.”

**

After scraping through every rickety dresser drawer in Terry’s house for nearly an hour, Sandy could barely come up with anything that was reportedly Mickey’s: a couple of tattered shirts, an impressively overused-looking bong, and a single sneaker she’d left behind because she couldn’t find the other one. She threw it all in some shitty burlap rucksack she’d found on one of the bedroom floors, assuming no one would miss it— it dawned on her that maybe her cousins were lying, and some of the other stuff in the house was still Mickey’s, but she’d collected what she could based on the whispered directions Alek and Iggy had given her when Terry was out of the room.

Sandy unlocked her phone, and typed a quick message to Mickey. “Out front.”

Mickey’s reply came quickly, and Sandy noticed the front curtains rustling on the top floor of the Gallagher house.

“Coming down”

The front door creaked open, and Mickey walked out onto the front porch. He looked good; he looked cleaner, sure, but also like a fucking adult—like he’d grown into himself, like he actually carried himself with confidence instead of just pretending to. He nodded his chin up at Sandy in acknowledgement.

“Long time no see.” He smirked, leaning on the banister. “You make a good delivery service. All those hauls we did with Terry must’ve been good training.”

Sandy lazily walked up the front steps, reaching the bag out in front of her for Mickey to take. “Here’s all the shit I could find. It’s not much.”

Mickey jerked his head to the open door behind him. “You wanna come in for a sec?”

Sandy grinned. Why the fuck not. “Sure."

So that was how she found herself perched on what was presumably Ian Gallagher’s bed, watching Mickey ruffle through the burlap bag, his brows furrowed as he realized just how much of his shit was actually gone.

“This everything?”

“As much as I could find.”

They comfortably chatted back and forth about how everyone was— Sandy decided to divulge the fact that Mickey’s brothers were idiots who tried to crawl in bed with her every night, which is something that she had to joke about so she didn’t go fucking insane sleeping under the same roof as them.

“Fuck ‘em, chop their nuts off next time they try it.”

Sandy smirked. Finally, a decent fucking relative. She made some hollow joke about staying with Mickey, alluding to the extra-shitty night decades ago when their cousins had forced them to make out when they were way too high on something.

“Or I could stay here with you. Have fun like we did when we were kids.”

“You know that’s fucked up, right? We’re fucking cousins!”

“Plus he’s taken.” A voice came from around the corner.

Ian Gallagher looked bigger, taller, and more solid than Sandy remembered; he was definitely miles away from the scrawny kid with the bangs who worked at the Kash N Grab that Sandy and her cousins endlessly used to fuck with in middle school. Ian’s shoulders were wide, his body imposing in the tiny room; immediately, Mickey’s aggravated stance softened when Ian walked in, wrapped in a towel from the waist down.

“Oh right, you.” Sandy grinned as Ian hunched over the bed and grabbed his deodorant from the nightstand.

Mickey had turned back to the bag of clothes. “Hey, I had shampoo and shit, is there soap anywhere?”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “You’ve been gone for years, you think your brothers would save that shit for you?” she bit out— and okay, maybe she was a little pissed at Mickey’s brothers for the constant-sexual-assault thing.

Ian just applied his deodorant and leaned in close to Mickey as he passed by the bed towards the doorframe. “You can use mine. We’ll hit Costco later, I’m getting paid.”

It was stupid, but Sandy felt something soft pang in her chest at Ian’s words; it was just now that she was realizing it, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen someone take care of Mickey before, or so… automatically factor Mickey’s needs into a situation. Being a Milkovich was all about scrounging and scraping, and guarding what little you had; a Milkovich would never let someone use their fucking soap just because they cared about them, or not as an immediate reaction anyways.

“Nah, I can’t, man. PO texted me when you were in the shower, he’s got a job for me.”

Ian kept looking at Mickey from where he was leaning in the doorway. “Then give me a list of shit you need, and I’ll pick it up for you,” Ian said in an overly simple tone, like he was mocking the fact that Mickey didn’t realize Ian would run an errand for him.

Sandy smirked. Jesus, Gallagher is whipped.

“Isn’t that cute, little domestic bitches,” Sandy crooned before she could help herself.

Ian stepped into the room again and leaned in towards Mickey, pressing a kiss to Mickey’s cheek while Mickey aggressively tried to uncrumple one of the pile of shirts from the bag.

“Mm, thank you,” Ian said in reply, his voice muffling as he smushed his face closer to Mickey’s.

Mickey instantly smiled smugly as Ian’s lips pressed against his cheek—then he noticed Sandy was staring, so he flipped her off and smiled even wider. What the fuck? Sure, Mickey had flipped Sandy off, but he was practically fucking beaming in a way that Sandy had never seen. God, wonder if I’ll find this shit someday.

Ian detached himself from Mickey and walked out of the room, Mickey’s eyes lingering on his torso. Once Ian had turned the corner Mickey snapped back to attention, fixing his eyes back onto the small mountain of clothes spread on the bed in front of him. Mickey lifted the bong off the bedsheets, and met Sandy’s gaze. 

“You have to go, or d’you wanna hang for a bit? I don’t have to be at work for a couple hours, and it’s gonna suck enough that I should probably be high before I get there.”

Sandy grinned. “Hell yeah, I’m down.”

**

They sat on the rickety back steps of the Gallagher house, silently taking hits and passing the bong back and forth. It had been years since they’d been in the same space, but Sandy and Mickey easily sank into a comfortable silence, passively surrounded by the shrieks of kids playing across the alleyway and the bubbling of water as they inhaled. Mickey blew smoke out of his nose, then sat back so he was leaning against the banister and passed the glass pipe to Sandy.

“So,” Sandy started as she held the lighter to the bong and inhaled deeply. “Ian Gallagher.”

Mickey huffed out a laugh. “Yup. That’s some Romeo and Juliet shit for ya.”

Sandy smirked as she exhaled. “You really fucking love him, huh?”

Mickey eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly as he looked towards her. “Yeah. Guess I do.” He took the bong from Sandy’s outstretched hand. “Took me forever to get shit straight with him, though.”

Ah. So their road to domestic bliss wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed. Sandy’s curiosity was growing.

“Because of shit with Terry?”

Mickey stiffened, coughing a bit as he exhaled smoke, like Sandy’s question caught him off guard. “Shit. Yeah. That too. Let’s just say there were lots of fucking ups and downs, and we both had a lot of shit to unpack.”

Sandy snickered. “You sound like a fucking couples therapist.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “If you wanna see couples therapy, I should tell you about the months me and Ian were sharing a fucking cell. We nearly ripped each other’s heads off. We literally stabbed someone so one of us might get sent to fucking solitary.”

Sandy’s laughter grew. “Are you fucking serious?”

Mickey grinned, and passed the bong back to Sandy again. “Fuck. Yeah. I fucking love him, though. He’s fucking crazy, and I still can’t let him go.” Mickey looked off into the distance across the alleyway, and either the weed was really hitting him right now, or he was being a very sappy motherfucker.

Sandy nudged Mickey’s knee. “You guys are cute together.” Mickey’s eyebrows raised when he heard the word “cute,” and Sandy quickly tried to rephrase. “Not cute, but y’know. Good for each other. You seem happy. Happy is... good.”

Mickey nodded pensively. “How’re you doing, anyways?”

Sandy shrugged noncommittally. “Eh. We can talk about me another time. How the fuck did you and Ian end up sharing a jail cell, anyways?”

Mickey let out a throaty laugh. “I heard Gallagher was getting locked up when I was down south, so I essentially pulled some strings and fucking snitched on the cartel I was working for. Hauled my ass back up here so we could be together.”

Holy fuck. Sandy’s jaw nearly dropped. “Mickey, you’re batshit crazy.” She shoved him squarely in the chest this time. “Are you fucking serious?! You evaded the feds, were living in Mexico, and you came back for Ian Gallagher?”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, placing the bong on the steps. “I can’t explain it, man. I just didn’t wanna be anywhere else, I guess.”

Sandy leaned back onto the banister. “Shit.” She paused for a moment, wondering if she should ask the next question. “Do you… want me to tell anyone you’re back?”

Mickey glanced over at her, his eyes alert. “Nah. Not yet. That okay with you?”

Sandy nodded. “Of course.” Mickey pulled out his phone, checking the time and presumably looking for a distraction from tiptoeing around talking about Terry— but Sandy had to tell him, had to let him know one more thing.

“Hey, Mickey?”

Mickey looked up. “Yeah?”

“I don’t really know the details of what went down with Terry, or whatever— but I just wanted to let you know that… if you ever wanna come home, I’m on your side. No questions asked. And I think a lot of the others are, too.”

The corner of Mickey’s mouth ticked upward. “Thanks.”

Sandy stood, checking her phone and zipping her leather jacket. “Well, I’d probably let you sober up a bit before your big parolee first day of work.”

Mickey raised a middle finger up to her from where he was seated, but then rose to stand.

“Thanks for comin’ by. And hey—you’re free to crash here anytime. There’s a million fucking kids running around all the time, but there’s always a couch or something open if everyone at home’s giving you too much shit.”

Sandy felt something warm growing in her chest. It had been a long fucking time since someone offered to take care of her, just because they could, just because they wanted to— maybe being a Milkovich wasn’t half bad. Maybe there were some good ones.

Sandy nodded in acknowledgement, and turned to walk down the creaky back steps. Wow. If Sandy was sure of one thing right now, it was that Mickey really, really fucking loved Ian Gallagher.

[googledocsdyke]

i have not seen any episodes of spn past season 10. but i am asking u because i trust ur opinion. should i watch the other 5? or is it not worth it?

oh ABSOLUTELY watch the other 5. you'll get some big hits and some big misses. my opinion on ~dabb era~ as a cohesive concept changes every time the wind blows but (and i was yelled at on discord for this) season 12 is one of my singular favourite seasons of supernatural. some general pros of seasons 11-15:

- genuinely post-carver supernatural just feels like it's less afraid to have fun. like you get yockey and perez who specialise in writing an all-caps WHAT IF... on the top of a whiteboard and just fucking slamming the gas from there. but like WITH the reading. the 3-episode season 12 yockey hat trick is like. BING BANG BOOM. angel gender! cas backstory! hunter funerals that aren't lonely devastated burnings but a big crowded house full of drinking games and collective community lore! THEE banes twins! other one-episode wonders include the chitters, scoobynatural, baby, regarding dean, tombstone, ouroboros, mint condition..... late seasons supernatural is at its best when it says fuck the very tiresome molasses mytharc and let's be insane and do a Concept. and it WORKS. like the finales mostly drag but many individual episodes are so good that i could live there

- you get claire's coherent arc!! miss newton killed it in 10x09 and 10x10 and 10x20 but a lot of it is claire having like. the worst fucking life of all time and being prickles and thorns and too much anger behind too small of a gun. her relationship w jody is SO good and aching and the wayward sisters setup is super fun even if. yknow. they didn't follow through

- BILLIE is truly one of the best chars they've ever done though they did her dirty at the end. like she haaaates the winchesters but rather than being some deep seething hyper-personal resentment she has a fascinating relationship to like. the desire to generally bring order to the universe — not imposed power, but just like the natural cycle of being in the world. in a way she's not so much working against the winchesters as she is the like very existence of the entire show — what dies Should stay dead and what is clearly dying Should be put out of its misery and YET the show rolls on. like it's deliciously uncomfortable every time she's on the screen because she's RIGHT! the only reasons the winchesters "should" survive another day is like.... they want to. her style her flair her lines her philosophy her position as Librarian mwah!

- rowena as well. god. milfnatural REALLY goes crazy in the later seasons i don't know what to say she's so good. the FLAIR the drama the royal court shakespeare production of it ALL

- MARY PLOTLINE HIIIIII. WOW. Well. if i think about mary for too long my brain does microwave noises but like the fact that they Literally resurrect the ghost of an inciting incident, the mother-as-plot device who does not speak, never the mourner eternally mourned???? And they stick her into the living world????? And she takes off that stupid nightgown???? big qualms w mary in lebanon and lack of john followthrough BUT LIKE. and her relationship with dean like she cannot meet his eyes. she cannot meet his eyes. multiple dean mary scenes that i cannot physically watch it's like a live wire MMM DELICIOUS

- JACK. SO important to understanding cas' arc. he is gay and he is a dad and he is a dad ON PURPOSE w such sweetness and sincerity and presence like i will become so fiercely father-shaped it's just quite excellent like the dude queers fatherhood. i am of split minds of how they did the dean jack relationship bc at the risk of over-spoiling it i think it's all setup and no followthrough/denouement/proper resolution. and like this is a general problem w supernatural in general that doesn't go away in late seasons you can see the moving parts of something great and then they kind of shrink back and explain it away in the vaguest way possible. But still. jack amazing mesmerising so much potential much of it realised it IS ABOUT father and sons

- you get to see dean and cas build up to 15.18. which is just, like, delicious and SO rewarding. season 12 almost-get together! widower arc! divorce arc! tenuous quasi-parenting debates! all building to I Love Every Body Be Cause I Love You

basically like much of supernatural, it has a lot of truly delicious moving parts with a lacklustre mytharc and some truly egregious writing decisions thrown in. it's not coherent in a way that supernatural has never been and arguably gets worse. BUT it has some of my personal favourite characters and writers of all time and if you want to see any of the above it's like. entirely worth it. and there is something delightful if disturbing in watching a show go on for so long that it parodies itself and references itself and eats itself whole. it is so often so much FUN let's hear it for cwification

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

Hi I just had a great idea:

What if instead of taking chip wiskers on a Sail-Around-the-World, Get-Over-Blair summer adventure (bc chip can get rekt!) Nate takes Dan instead??? and they fuck and fall in love of course

here you go, jess! your wish is my command & all that. maybe i'll make this into a proper fic when i don't feel like a zombie with a running nose.

vanessa breaks up w/ dan before she leaves for haiti. dan is taking it pretty badly, nate thinks dan must be torn up about it/ missing her / heartbroken etc etc.

blair's got her own clusterfuck of chip stuff to handle (clusterchuck?) and serena's helping with that, jenny's got her own stuff to handle, etc etc, so dan's entire support system boils down to just nate, naturally

nate's like "oh yeah i can handle this i too was once heartbroken over vanessa"

but then dan sort of gets very drunk and talks about how if the one person who's loved him longest and loved him best and known him better than anyone else couldn't stand him what does that say about him, dan? is he just that unlovable? and nate's heart hurts

nate tries for sage advice such as "sometimes being best friends doesn't translate to being romantically compatible, man. i know she loved you, but her not being in love with you doesn't say anything about you" but it slides off dan like water off a duck's back

so nate decides to take dan on a vacation. take his mind off stuff.

dan thinks it'll be lowkey so he agrees.

it is............not lowkey.

they sail for a bit and dan hates it, hates the feeling of being at sea, doesn't feel comfortable on a rickety sailboat, etc etc, but dan loves seeing how at ease nate is - and that's enough for dan to put his anxiety away for a bit

(sorry, i just have a big headcanon of dan being terrified of like. sailboats or cruise ships or whatever. seeing all that ocean all around him and knowing he can't leave freaks him out imo.)

one week in nate realises that dan is essentially putting up a brave front & then there are a few airline tickets and a lot of backpacking

"didn't know i was honeymooning with serena," dan says, and nate smacks his arm and gives him a look

dan doesn't understand foreign currency and nate's terrifyingly good at conversion rates. nate's also better at picking up snippets of the local language, wherever they are, while dan just. blinks and opens his tourist guidebook and stumbles through the "do you speak english?" phrases every single time

(dan thinks it's hot. that nate knows all this. that nate is just Wired in a way that makes him so good at adapting/navigating all this.)

( nate thinks dan's adorable. when he scowls at the maps and loiters in souvenir shops and blinks dazedly when people talk to him in a language he doesn't understand, looking at nate wide-eyed in a silent plea for help. it cracks nate up, but it also makes him want to hold dan in his arms and kiss the top of his head. whoops.)

anyway! back to plot.

they hang out in cheap hotels or service apartments and dan begins to teach nate how to cook and they fly kites in meadows and go on treks and it's such an absorbing experience

they spend anywhere between 3- 9 days in one location before moving

every single day is so Full and Whole it feels like a whole week of events. but it's just one fulfilling day

then one day they're snowed in somewhere on the mountains

and both of them have... a really good time. and dan has this lightbulb moment of... oh. it's not Abroad that's bringing meaning to my life, it's not these activities or the change of pace or anything else. it's nate. it's being able to be with nate like this

nate, naturally, is having the same sort of revelation

dan wants to act on it but he's scared to blow what is the best friendship in his life at this time, and he knows natie is coming off a heartbreak w/ serena and he doesn't want to be a rebound

but nate is the one to initiate it, touching dan's chin with gentle fingers and going, "hey, we can ignore this and never talk about this again if you’d prefer that but i really want to kiss you"

so of course, they kiss

they kiss, and then they almost do the deed too but then they both stop, because dan's like "wait you're my best friend i can't risk you Not being my best friend tomorrow when it's over"

they talk about it in an emotionally mature way & talk about their exes + their expectations of being in a relationship & just "you're my best friend but it's become so much more than that lately"

they don't fuck but they go to bed holding each other, as boyfriends

when the summer ends, they both return to NY a lot more tanned, with a lot more souvenirs, and more genuine smiles

chuck gets pissy with nate about taking "humdrum humphrey on a honeymoon" and nate hits him in the face (im sorry, i love the chuck/nate/dan love triangle too much, i have no excuse)

nate moves in with dan, vanessa shows up to visit and check in on dan and they have a heart-to-heart (turns out after her internship in hiati, v popped over to california because ruby's band was on tour there, etc, and vanessa bumped into olivia of all people, and. apparently they're dating now and she wants dan to hear it from her, directly, and she hopes he's okay with that - with his ex gfs dating each other - and dan's like 'yeah as long as you're happy. speaking of finding your exes in a gay relationship, uh, me and nate....' & of course, v is extremely thrilled by this update)

blairena fucked in paris and will continue to fuck on return to NY but there's definitely a lot of angst because blair expects serena to dump her for one of the boys and serena thinks blair doesn't like her / is pushing her towards the boys because "what happens in paris stays in paris" but they're both definitely in love. and they miscommunicate BUT they work it out. classic fanfic stuff.

and. three days before college begins there's a knock on the door of the loft and when nate opens the door, he's greeted by a heavily pregnant georgina.

"what the fuck are you doing here?" / "i could ask you the same question. and don't cuss around the unborn baby, archibald." / "...."

dan, of course, walks in now, and he's like, "there's no such thing as an unborn baby, if you mean fetus, you should say that, because -"

and then he looks at who's at the door and he's like. "uh. georgie. long time no see, what?"

georgie grins like satan. "he's yours"

"yeah, nate is my boyfriend," dan says distractedly, and then blinks, stares at georgina, and at nate, and back at georgina again. "do you - do you mean, the kid?"

/end

[andallthatmishigas]

pls may i ask two for the fanfic ask? bc i am still stuck on them ♡♡♡

walking the wire & a new genesis ♡♡♡

(you have no idea how much your writing helps me through things and i feel weird leaving a comment every time but maybe i should start so you know)

Oh my goodness bless you. I love these questions, and I love those stories so so so so much. And you can comment 10000 times and I'll love it 10000+ times. Because I genuinely do go back and reread reviews all the time. It makes me so happy!

Anyway onto this. Walking the Wire and A New Genesis for each question:

2. What scene did you first put down?

WtW: I had the first scene written for a long time before I actually wrote anything more or even thought of any plot beyond that one moment. The idea of Lucien asking Jean out on a date and being all nervous about it and adorable. I had that saved in my notes and then the more I listened to the Imagine Dragons song (of the same name as the story), it sort of came together in my head.

ANG: First chapter. I had the plot and concept in my mind for a while and then sat down and just wrote that first chapter in one go while at my parents' house for some reason. In case it wasn't obvious, I am the kind of writer who starts at the beginning and goes from there. I can't skip around. I'm way too Type A for it lol.

4. What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

WtW:

Lucien continued, "And now, being here together, I can't help thinking that us being together, hopefully marrying one day soon…I know it won't be an easy road, Jean. For you much moreso than for me. But I just hope that if we can cling to each other, we can stay up here always. Holding each other and walk the wire together. There's no limit to how high we can go. And if anyone else has a problem with it, well…"

"Look out down below," she interjected softly.

ANG:

Lucien paused right in front of the altar table, placed his hands down flat on it, and leaned forward. Jean could not see is face, but from the tone of his voice she could hear him sneer, "What did I ever do to You? How did I offend You so brutally that You subject me to this? I was arrogant, I was oblivious, sometimes uncaring. I know that. I won't deny it. I've lived a far from perfect life. But wasn't the camp punishment enough? Wasn't losing my family in front of my eyes enough penance for my sins?" He pushed off the table and started shouting. "I have served you faithfully! I have led your flocks! Why have You tempted me with love and happiness that You have forbidden me to possess? Is it a test? Well, surely I've failed. Surely I would fail any test because of her."

11. What do you like best about this fic?

WtW: The first half, I think, is really good. It falters a bit towards the end. But I love the exploration I got to do with Jean's judgmental attitude towards Lucien and divorce and her lust and herself and how she overcomes all of that. I think that struggle is the thing I like best. I've got to reread this one soon.

ANG: This story combines one of my favorite things which is sexualizing and blaspheming the Catholic Church. Protestants? Nothing sexy there. Catholics? That's my shit. And I just get such a thrill over blasphemy tbh. Nice Jewish girl vibes, thank you very much. (The scene where Lucien fucks Jean on the altar in the church is what I was entirely building up for the whole entire story and I'm super proud of it.)

13. What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

WtW: So I was making playlists for each of my major stories for a little while, but I didn't start doing that until after I'd finished each of these two stories, BUT this story is 100% inspired by THIS SONG which I was just captivated by and needed to write something for it.

ANG: This was tough for me to answer. I don't think I have a specific song or artist or vibe for this one. I looked through my other story playlists for some Blake fics (Forever in Your Arms, Ivy) and the closest I could really think of to apply to this story was THIS SONG which is less blasphemy, my favorite theme of the story, and more the sort of obsessive sacrifice that Lucien goes through so I suppose it works.

[waynedunlaptheorgandonor]

caryl first date headcanon

i wrote a stream of consciousness caryl headcanon i was thinking about when i couldn’t sleep last night. no i did not proofread it. yes it is rambling nonsense. yes you can read it if you want: 

so i genuinely don’t know what the timeline for canon is gonna be now that we got bottle episodes, s11, and the spin-off, but just for a moment let us pretend that it happens during the bottle episodes and then we have all of s11 to watch caryl trying to figure out how to navigate a relationship with each other

cuz like, they gon fuck right away, bc things are gonna get heated, and tensions are gonna be high, and they’re gonna snap like a trip wire and fucking ravish each other, that’s without question

so the first little while of their relationship will be mostly getting intimately familiar with each other’s bodies down to every last freckle

but once they’ve simmered down some they’re gonna need to address the “oh shit, wait, how does a relationship work?” problem

cue: caryl’s first date

it’ll take place in commonwealth, and i’ve never read the comics and i know jack all about it outside of what i’ve skimmed, but we’re gonna ignore that for the sake of my fun post

i know enough about it to know that there are definitely places to have a date

daryl knows this too, tho he doesn’t rly think about it right away. at first he’s more confused and sort of standoffish about the whole place, bc he was always a forest-dweller even before the apocalypse, so seeing this new metropolis-like place after years of living like a gd pioneer is gonna throw him way off kilter

right up until he’s chillin’ with judith and she’s talking about how she’s excited to see her first concert, and they have restaurants, and things she’s only ever read about, and then out of nowhere she’ll pull out, “are you gonna take aunt carol on a date?” 

and daryl will stare at her

and she’ll be like “rosita was telling me about how father gabriel took her on a real date and how nice it was. you should do that for aunt carol” 

and daryl will stare at her

and then will hastily change the subject (she’ll see right through him, ofc, but she’ll let it slide)

but the thought will stick with him, and suddenly he’s looking at the schedule of upcoming concerts and plays and wondering if carol would care about any of it. does she like shakespeare? the most experience he would have had with shakespeare was ripping out a couple pages of his school copy of romeo and juliet to use to light some firewood

but maybe she’s into it???

eventually he’ll reach the inevitable conclusion that the only way this is going to work is if he actually asks her to go on a date with him, which should be easy, right? like, he was ball’s deep inside her last night and told her good morning by putting his face between his legs, so surely asking someone on a date is simple

it will not be simple

bc yeah, they fuck all the time, and obviously they’re head-over-heels in love with each other, they’re each other’s soulmates, yada yada, but also daryl’s extremely emotionally repressed and has the romance skills of a fifteen year old having his mom drive him and his date to his first homecoming dance, only worse bc he never even went to any school dances

but after Dwelling On It for ages he’ll finally get fed up with himself and will vow to stop being a pussy. he’ll ask her before the day’s over or he’ll shoot a bolt into his own foot, ok, no more excuses

so the whole day he’s jittery af

you’d think he’s trying to pop the question, but all he wants to do is go eat dinner with carol and then watch some people recite lines from a play written hundreds of years ago, like, what is his Deal(tm)??? 

(his deal is, ofc, that he waited so long to have her, and now every new thing feels tenuous, bc he’d rather die than lose her, and sure she knows him better than anyone, but never in this context, and plus her last dude basically bled passion and romance no matter how obnoxious, and what if she realizes just how fucking clueless he is and decides she doesn’t really want to be with a middle-aged man who still gets tongue-tied around a pretty girl?)

(but also she deserves a gd date, alright? she deserves it, and so he’s going to give it to her, even if going face-to-face with a walker horde is less intimidating)

carol notices something’s off with him right away, but she waits until after dinner, when the kids have gone to their rooms and the two of them are alone washing dishes to ask, “hey, so what the fuck?” 

and daryl will be like, k, it’s now or never

and he will 100% make a fool of himself by stumbling alllll over his words, like, “nothin’s wrong, i’m fine, everythin’s real fine, i was just wonderin’ if mb you’d wanna, y’know, i dunno, they got all these shows and shit that we ain’t had in forever and i didn’t know if mb you’d wanna go see one? and mb get some food? with me, i mean. like, together. like i’d take you there and we could do those things, like a, you know, a date. but it’s cool if not, no worries, i get it if it’s not your thing, but i just thought i’d ask, but no, you’re right, it’s stupid, forget i said anythin’, hey look at the time, well i’m beat, gonna go to sleep now, goodbye”

and carol will go, “hold up”

and she’ll take daryl by the wrist before he can flee the room (bc he definitely intends to), and pulls him close and kisses him all sweet, and she’s gotta stand on her tiptoes to do it bc she’s in a pair of knit socks and he’s got his boots on so there’s more of a height difference than usual, and after she’s successfully managed to keep daryl from falling straight into a panic spiral, she’ll whisper, “i’d love to, let’s go this weekend”

and then she’ll just turn back to doing dishes without another word on the matter 

(bc, as previously stated, she knows daryl better than anyone, and she knows exactly what all his insecurities are and how much it must have taken him to ask her that, and so she’s not gonna harp on it or tease him)

(daryl recognizes this and loves her desperately for it)

the actual date is way easier than daryl expected

bc he spent all this time hyping it up, but when it comes right down to it, he just gets to spend a night with carol where they don’t have the kids to worry about, or any council business, and they just get to enjoy each other’s company

she even dressed up a little for him, which was unnecessary, but he most certainly appreciates it and can’t wait to tear the outfit off of her later

(it does make him regret the fact that he’s only had one pair of pants for the past ten years, but she doesn’t seem to mind)

they end up seeing a shakespeare play

daryl understands like 2% at best, but carol holds his hand and rests her head on his shoulder the whole time, and apparently it’s a comedy bc she laughs a lot, and that alone makes it worth it

they fuck like crazy when they get home, obviously

but it’s different than it had been previously, bc now their “togetherness” seems more solidified

like, they’re officially a “couple” now

like the type of couple that gets a babysitter for the night so they can go to the apocalyptic version of dinner and a movie together and then have sex and then fall asleep right afterwards bc they’re domestic af

and like, deep down both of them knows that this isn’t the life that they’re meant to live in forever, a la commonwealth/domestic bliss, and he wasn’t kidding when he told her new mexico was still out there, and he can feel a shift coming sooner rather than later

but he also knows they’ll be together when it happens, and they’ll figure out their own version of “date night” when they’re out exploring

but for now he’s content to do it the old fashioned way, though

when she falls asleep on his chest that night he rubs her back and kisses the top of her head, and he’s already planning their next night out

he might pick a show with modern english, though

but it’s not required

just so long as they’re together

the end 

[jamaiskookie]

bangtan headcanon: OT7 IN HIGH SCHOOL 📓✂️

☞ genre; fluff, crack

☞ warnings; excessively stupid

masterlist  u wanna talk to highschool!bangtan?

《KIM SEOKJIN》

class clown

always manages to sneak kimbap in class, and stuffs his face despite being in the front row. 

he’s alarmingly good at sneaking food into places. 

cafeteria ladies love jin so much. 

and every christmas he brings in his perfected sugar cookies and never shares them.

(he’s in the cooking club)

((he’s the only one in the cooking club))

will interrupt the teacher to make a bad joke. 

“yes so helium is the fo- oh yes seokjin?“

“i was reading an excellent book about helium, i couldn’t put it down!! ahHAHAHHYUKHYUKAHHAHAHHA“ 

nobody’s?? really sure?? if he’s dating namjoon or not?? it’s the schools biggest mystery, there’s currently a betting pool going on worth about $500

likes to annoy namjoon and yoongi about holding bake sales. 

is surprisingly good at planning parties?? but never hosts them?? hoseok always gets him to plan his parties and he even planned prom!!

he’s particularly proud with the theme he came up with. 

‘zombie meets elegance‘ 

it was actually pretty nicely pulled off (much to the shock of the entire student body) 

《MIN YOONGI》

student council president 

takes his job very!! seriously!! 

fights with the principal on funding daily. 

doesn’t come to school without coffee and resting bitch face.

even the teachers are afraid of this short little emo boy. 

is the only one who actually wears the school uniform properly with the little tie and jacket because that’s how you show school spirit. 

definitely that closeted gay in high school who thinks nobody knows about his homosexuality when in fact, everyone knows.

(nobody has the guts to bring it up to him though)

“hyung why are you staring at jimin’s as-“

 “-NO WHY GET BACK TO WORK” 

actually enjoys doing morning announcements. 

“make sure to check out jin’s dumb bake sale i think he’s selling brownies for some charitable reason anYWAYS time for min’s advice column!!“ 

min’s advice column is yoongi’s free therapy. namjoon suggested adding an advice column to the school paper so now yoongi just judges his classmates’s decisions gives subpar advice. 

“i personally think you have no chance with this girl, but you’re clearly hell bent on asking her out. it’s a dumb choice. good luck.“ 

《JUNG HOSEOK》

fuckboy

throws obnoxious parties at his parent’s huge ass mansion. 

somehow?? is?? the nicest? playboy??? evER??

will respect your girl’s boundaries but also would 300% hit on her when you’re not looking. 

aftercare king wILL cuddle with you and help you clean up or whatever until jimin eventually comes in screaming. 

his school id says “hobi 💦👅” ... noone knows how he managed to do it (taehyung thinks he seduced the secretary) 

surprisingly good at romance even though he deTests dating

“it’s a waste of time, money, and ass.“  “- what?”

gives everyone dating advice whether they want it or nOt- he lives his *shhh very secret* romantic fantasies through his best friends. 

once helped taehyung ask out his girlfriend... they’re still going strong!!

defo has daddy issues that he never talks about,, maybe if a girl finds it sexc™️ in that kind of messed-up-bad-boy-she-could-fix vibe he’ll bring it up

kinda failing science lmao he probably needs a tutor.. but will never admit he needs a tutor for sake of his pride. 

most definitely has had sex in the janitor’s closet a couple times, up until yoongi caught him once, reported him to the school board and got him suspended... for a month. 

(yoongi has no regrets, that was the best month of his life.)

《KIM NAMJOON》

student vice president

honestly would probably be the council president and is the most qualified for it but can’t be bothered.

plus he hates public speaking and the president has to speak at assemblies.  

genuinely enjoys learning!! bUT HATES GROUP PROJECTS

because every single fucking time taehyung and jimin pester him about teaming up and he ends up doing like 75% of the work.

not because anyone forces him to or anything.

it’s because jimin and tae are such dumbasses every time they finish their work namjoon has a sudden uRGE TO REDO ALL OF IT BC THEY GOT IT WRONG.

tries to take all AP subjects.

gives up and drops half of them by the second semester.

great student but also will “no yoongi i don’t want to fucking play basketball i've been awake for thirty hours trying to finish this goddamn essay that’s due tomorrow. wHAT DO YOU MEAN WHY DIDN’T I DO IT EARLIER I WAS BUSY TAKING CARE OF MY BONSAI TREES.“

started the school paper!! it’s called “persona post”

writes about actual relevant things like political events and global problems, but everyone else just writes about school gossip *sigh*

although that one column examining hobi’s sex and dating life was a pretty fun piece of writing to read through. 

he sits in the back of the classroom and never raises his hand even though he knows the answer like 95% of the time.

definitely has a crush on seokjin

《PARK JIMIN》

the one everyone has a crush on

and when i say everyone i mean everyone, even hoseok has had a crisis over park jimin. 

(jungkook is definitely president of his fan club) ((in case it wasn’t clear, he’s dating jungkook))

school’s golden boy, basically gets away with everything with a bat of an eye... and the most infuriating thing is he doesn’t even realise it. 

“omg jimin!! you’re so cute!! this shirt looks sO good on you, can i touCH?” “omg thank you i didn’t think it fit well because it’s my boyfriends but that’s so sweet!!” “boy... hm?”

mom friend: sweetest bitch alive and is always worrying about his friends but everyone knows he’s secretly really fucking kinky.

(again, jungkook has no comment)

the kind of person who celebrates christmas in june. 

literally- he starts putting decorations in his locker and around the school mid june. by november, he’s wearing reindeer ears to school.

*lowkey kind of a nerd* genuinely enjoys studying with namjoon.

“well, studying with anybody else is just too stressful!! plus, namjoon’s so chill. he doesn’t look like it but he actually is super sweet and nice!!!“

“... please take those reindeer ears off, it’s embarrassing.“ 

half of the school would probably cut off an arm to sleep with him. seriously, he gets offers like everYDAY it’s kinda getting tiRING

is considering starting a youtube channel where he just takes videos of all the dogs and babies he meets throughout the day. 

“idk i think vlogging would be fun“

《KIM TAEHYUNG》

art hoe

nEVER FUCKING STUDIES OR PAYS ATTENTION BUT GETS DECENT GRADES.

the definition of bisexual mess, WILL trip when he sees hot people.

exclusively wears wired gold glasses and soft neutral sweaters to school. if it’s a good day he’ll wear a beanie. on special occasions he’ll maybe throw in some fUN loafers.

dyes his hair to match ~the vibes~ of that season. the most recent wild hair colour is cool toned teal. 

jungkook said he looks like leprechaun shit, but tae really likes it. 

tried to go vegan countless times, failed each and every one when he passed by a mc donalds. 

carries his sketchbook wherever he goes. he has that thing around 24/7, 100% would not be surprised if he slept with it under his pillow.

really quiet until he has a point to make;; like that time where he launched into a three hour screaming lecture on how phineas and ferb is an animated masterpiece.

drinks tea purely for the aesthetic of it. 

goes to hipster coffee shops to pretend to study... ends up watching barbie movies and critiquing them on the writing blog that he thinks nobody knows about. 

watches anime in class (he recently rewatched all of ATLA for the third time,, failed his econ class but worth it!!1!!1)

《JEON JUNGKOOK》

preppy jock

once again, everyone is attracted to him, but he’s so whipped for jimin everyone’s crush fades away once they talk to him because-

“oh it’s so cool that you have a dog!! you know, i think jimin kind of looks like a pomeranian sometimes it’s sO CUTE- hm? oh jimin’s my boyfriend.“

... it’s disgustingly adorable. 

plays almost every sport and is somehow always the team captain. not out of obligation or with leadership skills or anything, everyone else just votes for him. 

mess with his friends and he’ll put a stink bomb in your locker. 

his nickname is “golden baby” because he’s good at everything, teachers love him so much. 

grades? sTELLAR. sports? he’s done them ALL. creativity? pAINTED THE SCHOOL MURAL. service? volunteers at a pet shelter whenever he can (the bunnies love him for some reason) 

everyone either is 

a) in love w him, wants to fuck

b) jealous of him but is also secretly gay for him

pretends to not know how talented and cool he is and plays it off super cool

proceeds to fail, the only thing he’s bad at is humble bragging. 

“wow omg lol i got a 100 on my bio test and yesterday i got a hole in one in golf, my first time playing it but it’s chill i guess hahhah day in my life amirite.“

**this headcanon is the start of the bangtan school series, stay tuned**

wanna be tagged in school series or my writing? here or send me an ask

[majormeilani]

hmm now that i think on the dj grooves thing

i really really do think the awards thing in itself messes with him and makes him act in ways he normally wouldn't. like it's the one thing that REALLY gets to him.

like he'll be relatively fine when he's not thinking about it but when someone mentions the award or anything like that it's what his brain immediately focuses on. since it's probably a huge sore spot for him given he gets second bested nearly every time and with it going on for what seems like years, the numerous fakes in his room (i think it was), ect.

and with how he talks to the award replica in the first act has a bit more edge to how he talks usually and he seems bitter about it almost.

like he probably can be perfectly normal most the time but hyperfocuses on the awards due to feelings of inadequacy and when has the chance to win, he rides on that high because it's probably the best he's ever felt in a long time. and it goes to show he's not any of the things that the conductor said about him in his eyes. and i guess the feeling sent him over the edge bc once he saw the potential a timepiece could grant him, he felt like he had to have it because he felt like his worth hinged on winning.(maybe im projecting a bit here tho....)

but it really seems to me like he had an unhealthy obsession with winning, the conductor always seeming to best him not helping matters at all. the conductor ALSO having the same unhealthy obsession too.

and we can kinda see that he's a little bit unhinged with the stakes he seems to take with the big parade where he starts adding more and more dangerous effects to the movie, some you even see making the moon penguins jump on the rooftops. and MAYBE he doesn't really see that he's doing anything wrong? or at least maybe doesn't realize what he's doing is kinda messed up, since hat kid literally gets injured by the wires he has her cross zapping her, fireworks sparking on the rooftops, moon penguins driving on the roof, firing rockets in the air, the music even speeding up and intensifying the more goes on. which is a stark contrast to how while the conductor makes her go through similar stakes, but he actually acknowledges that he knows it's kinda fucked up what he's doing, by saying that he 1 "doesn't care about the express owls or yourself" and only his train and 2 him cackling manically when you deactivate the bomb bc of the footage he got of her running for dear life.

so while im disappointed in how he kinda gets to that point i can kinda understand that maybe he doesn't perceive his actions as bad bc of the cause it's for. but i cant imagine how much it would crush him once he realizes what he did in the end. and i genuinely think it'd make him feel like he's worthless or something.

and him shouting "I HATE YOU. DAAAARRRLLLIIINNNGGGG...." might have been him submitting to his ideas of self doubt and giving up. he probably doesn't actually hate hat kid, but maybe he just hates himself. bc he seems to put his self worth into the awards and i wouldn't doubt everything he's gone through destroyed his self esteem despite his supposed confidence. he probably just tries to be positive, maybe even a bit of toxic positivity too.

this is like a half incomprehensible ramble but yeah. some thoughts

basically this rant sums up to he doesn't hate hat kid, he hates himself. for not being good enough.

[eyrieofsynapses]

so today I just watched the first episode of Almost Paradise! And I’ve gotta say, I am impressed. I already had it on my watchlist but I was planning to wait to watch it for a while until I could let Eliot fade a bit from memory, just so I wouldn’t automatically think of him while watching Kane. But I ran into an article this weekend about how it was filmed in the Philippines and the details of that, and my curiosity was piqued considerably more, so I figured... why not? 

(I also started White Collar this weekend and that was very enjoyable, but that’s a post for another day.) 

Anyway, my brain’s buzzing now, so have some first impressions and reactions, plus initial meta-analysis because I am intrigued. In hindsight I probably should have recorded first impressions while I was watching, but I’ll do my best to remember the bits that stuck out. Warning for... exceedingly long post.

ooo, okay, so he’s got a medical condition. I faaaaintly remember reading about this in the summary but I didn’t pay much attention to that, oops.

telling a guy played by Chris Kane not to get his heartrate up! that’s definitely gonna happen. definitely. one hundred percent. not like this guy loves fighting or anything

(also tbh the joke about, ah, sexual dysfunction admittedly left a sour taste in my mouth, because I do not go for that kind of thing, but... this is Devlin and Kane, so I’m trusting, based off Leverage experience, that they aren’t gonna be too inappropriate. [In hindsight there are actually interesting meta reasons for this so the sour taste has dissipated somewhat.])

this poor doctor. she’s so done with him. 

...he’s definitely not gonna pay attention to the monitor is he

that journal’s gonna get zero use oop

(I was duly impressed when he actually did use it later)

huh, liking how we immediately dive into the effect tourism has had on the Philippines. so we’re getting some commentary here too? I can deal with that

...wow. bad shop. eek

I’m sorry but I am loving the touch with the floorboards and such breaking beneath Alex. the look on his face is just perfect

and the monitor goes off! for tbh the last reason I expected it to first go off for, excellent 

MOTORCYLE? did they give him a motorcycle?!

awww no it’s the baddies who have the motorcycle :(

hmm this should be interesting. loving the look of this leader guy tho

--aaaand good asthetic guy is dead! with an ice pick! creepy and creative! 

bar. no way this could go wrong

internal battle! understandable that Alex wants out, buuuuuuut if he’s anything like I suspect he is--

--yup, picking a fight, with a damn pool cue--

--not picking a fight?

...picking a fight. by being friendly. *sigh*

yuuuuuuuup. that’s definitely good for your heart

badass fighting scene! with a pool cue, that’s a new one! love seeing Kane take ordinary objects and turn them into fighting tools

(ngl this had Eliot vibes. that said I am thrilled to see how damn good these fight scenes are and this is making me even more excited for Redemption)

aaaaaaaaaand oh fuck this was a police setup. which. I actually did not see coming, huh

ahahah they’re pissed! because he messed up their bust? or because he just saved their asses? 

...probably technically the former but I suspect the latter is also true

refusing to get Involved being foreshadowed by his indecision earlier! of course he’s going to get Involved anyway, only question is how

“hitter” I SEE YOU. I SEE YOU AND YOUR REFERENCES. I SEE YOU DEVLIN AND KANE

pfffffffffffFFFFFT the meditation, oh gods

that voice. oh Alex. 

I genuinely cannot tell if this is him actually trying or if this is him begrudgingly making an attempt because he has to

lacquering(?) the doors, which, hey, actually look pretty nice--this place is gonna look good when it’s done isn’t iii--

oh fuck Alex is being attacked

(this is definitely something to be concerned about. yes. totally. not like we haven’t already seen him take down a bunch of guys.)

with a garrot! this is definitely totally not how he’s gonna get Involved

oh my gods the detail with the paint. nothing says Competent like getting irritated at how the baddie interrupted your house restoration

hehehehe Involved

oooh, hmm, he thinks they sent the guy after him? what kind of corruption has Alex faced? I mean it’s not an unreasonable fear, but jeez, it sounds like this has happened to him before. doesn’t say much good about the DEA...

huh, this is a level of disturbed I haven’t seen from Kane before. which, granted, I have only seen him in Leverage, but I’ve never seen him pull this out before. the voice crack is an excellent touch

also, worth noting, Alex is definitely a notable level of... hmm, paranoid? this is just a tad bit frantic, though that’s understandable from a guy who almost got killed while in the middle of an attempted meditation

oh god being cocky in the middle of a briefing. poor Kai 

--being cocky and competence porn! of course he takes the watch and turns it into a lesson

...he must be a hell of a teacher

(also, bonus points for actually using the journal. maybe he’s taking this health thing more seriously than I thought he would?)

may I repeat: COMPETENCE PORN

uh-huh, you’re so not involved, definitely, Alex, not like you’re gonna get pulled straight into this or anything

Ernesto is just watching to see how things play out, Kai is... trying to do things the right way, and Alex...

...Alex gives precisely zero fucks. buddy you are so not subtle

right, walking straight into the lion’s den! radiating confidence! terrifying

this is a disturbing level of truth he’s sharing for this lie. I mean, best lies are crafted from truth, but... jeez

hm. so is Alex also a “I don’t like guns” type guy? 

(probably not for the same reasons as Eliot doesn’t [his is definitely more in the “they make it too easy to kill” department whereas I would guess Alex has either more tactical or PTSD reasons], but, hmm. this is something to watch for)

(did they know they were bringing back Leverage when they set up Almost Paradise? I’m genuinely wondering if they didn’t write some Eliot traits into Alex specifically bc they knew Kane missed playing him)

this is a fantastically confident level of grifting--what exactly did he do in the DEA, precisely?

...ah. cool asthetic guy. stuffed in the freezer. gotta admit, I definitely didn’t see that one coming. creepy! 

(and it looks like you actually managed to shake Alex a little, hah)

aaaaaand in the meantime we have Kai following his advice! in an... interesting way. hm. 

(surprisingly this does not annoy me that much in hindsight. not sure why)

and understandably, this does not go over well! except, oh, fuck, DEA guy. this ain’t gonna be good

...worse. worse than I thought. what happened to you, Alex? former partner? whaaat

“attacks”? 

this gonna be the typical “traumatized white dude has Anger Attacks” type thing? 

honestly I immediately went “probably not” given how it was handled in Leverage. wasn’t sure though. but that does leave the question of what sort of attacks? it doesn’t seem like it’d be meltdowns, so what does that leave? 

hmmm. DEA guy is an Ass. we Do Not Like him. I’ve known Alex for less than half an hour but you do not do that to him. you do not use trauma against your guy, Jerkface. 

cutting a deal? this should be interesting

...well shit. I. am sincerely hoping Kai isn’t about to walk in on anything too bad

this definitely isn’t gonna be a fight though, that I called right off the bat

--bottles. dammit

oh, Christ. attempted OD or just drunk?

just drunk! good! well, very Not Good, but better than the other thing

pffffft dunking him in the water and then him going straight back to the water when he sees her, that is both absolutely hilarious and deeply concerning

aaand I’m agreeing with Kai but also, poor guy just got confronted with a hell of a lot of things that would raise his trau--

...mm. yeah. that’d be it. 

...I. was. not expecting that much backstory info straight off. holy cow, Alex. that is. messed up. someone get this man a hug

“one of the guys that cared too much”

(...like you?)

(or is that why you won’t let yourself care now?)

fuck, there was a lot more to that boat scene than I thought. ow

partner who betrayed him like that? I’m just. gods. 

Trust Issues is definitely gonna be a Thing isn’t it

can we just take a second to appreciate how Christian Kane is playing the absolute hell out of this character

aaaand Kai brings him back to the city for a Heartwarming Reminder of why he was in the game! this is very tropey but it is, as John Rogers has pointed out, an instance of the “well-worn writing tool” rather than feeling cheesy! 

holy crap Kai has lost. a lot of people. oh man

ahahahaha classic “why did you bring me here?” line! you know why, Alex. you know why

oh, and Ernesto gets a chance to help him out! I’m already enjoying this so much

awww and Kai shows up to help encourage him! with coffee! supportive friend and very obvious but honestly okay love interest! good!!!

(what the heck is with Devlin and his crew and sticking Kane with two besties? based on Ernesto’s dynamic with him I’m guessing this isn’t gonna be an OT3 but. I am loving the trend)

“I’m gonna regret this in the morning” pfft

huh, working with the DEA agents. not like he’s gonna go off script or anything. that’s totally not gonna happen is it

hehe irritated look while they’re putting on the mic. he is so very unimpressed

--”little episodes”--episodes? 

moment of appreciation for the un-forced-feeling diversity in these police squads

“how’s the anxiety?” I’m sorry what

hold up, when we say “episodes”--are we talking panic attacks? does Alex have actual goddamn anxiety? 

...actually with PTSD? that would make complete sense. I am... intrigued. I am really hoping that that’s the case, actually, because having seen how well they handled Parker and her PTSD in Leverage (as well as Nate’s and Eliot’s) I have a lot of faith that they could pull that off really well, actually. That would be good. 

ppFFFT TAKING OFF THE WIRES RIGHT OFF THE BAT

wait what. you’re telling them everything? what’s your game here? 

“get that frikkin gun outta my face!” yup, not a fan of guns! no disarming though? huh

(also can we just. appreciate how Kane manages to make “frikkin” sound just as much like the cuss it’s replacing?)

(LET ALEX SAY FUCK)

oh. OH

hi Ernesto! hi Kai! I see what y’all doing

ohhhhhhhhhh Alex you goddamn genius. Getting rid of all of the drugs so there’s no way the precise thing he was claiming to be doing can happen. I like this

THE MEDITATION COMING ON ON THE RECORDING I CAN’T--OH MY GODS

Alex please tell me you know how to disarm a gun. please. guns are not effective at that distance

OH. OH I DID NOT SEE KAI COMING. 

got ‘em! murder confession, how did I not see that coming? good stuff

Kai can fight! 

KAI CAN FUCKING FIGHT WOW

I am very much appreciating Kai right now

also is that a FLYING KICK from Ernesto?

they better give these people more fight scenes

aaaaand straight into the water, oh god. I’m assuming this was a choice made because Alex is familiar with this territory? ...I do not think I want to know where Alex learned to fight underwater.

(I really really really want to know.) 

how the fuck has your monitor not gone off by now Alex

choking him out underwater, okay, wow 

what size are your lungs? this is long

extra kudos for excellent underwater filming and wow I am hoping the actors actually came up for air

(this is also unreasonably beautiful for a scene where you’re choking out a drug lord. the water is so pretty)

Evil DEA guy (no I am not going to learn his name, he doesn’t deserve it) is gonna be Alex’s Agent Sterling, isn’t he? this should be interesting

heh, police chief is taking his side! good stuff, good stuff

(it is very nice to see Alex getting some people in his corner after knowing what hell the DEA put him through)

Alex has fallen so damn hard for Kai. this is very very adorable actually

awww he’s really getting into fixing up the shop, isn’t he? I’m sincerely looking forward to seeing how he gets this up and going, it really looks like he’s enjoying himself

somehow I am starting to wonder if the cocky “oh yeah I’m opening up a gift shop how exciting huh” thing at the start wasn’t... actually genuine. he... is enjoying this, isn’t he? good. very good

I am unreasonably invested in this man’s wellbeing for one episode in

!!!!!!!!! HE GETS HIS PARADE

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

giving him his reason to keep going! yes! yessss

oh Alex you are attached now. you are very attached. good luck my dude and don’t let the trust issues get in the way

this is a good show. this is a heckin awesome show. 

also, side note, it is SO PRETTY

I am just loving loving loving all of the scenery. competence porn AND landscape and city porn. beautiful. perfection. excellent

...that was. much longer than I anticipated oops 

anyway, conclusion: hot damn this is a fun show! I am very excited to keep watching this. Alex officially has my heart, even if he’s a bit of a cocky bastard sometimes. Kane is fucking hilarious. (More reasons to be excited for Redemption!) Kai and Ernesto also have my heart, and I am extremely interested to see their character development. 

Honestly, the beauty is surprising. I didn’t expect to just enjoy how pretty it is. The blues of the ocean, the intense tropical colors, even the run-down gift shop--there’s such a gorgeous aesthetic to it all. If I wasn’t already invested in the characters and plot, I’d be invested for that alone. 

So... I have some thoughts on Alex and the show structure.

He’s obviously very disillusioned. There’s a lot of nods to the idea of war--he’s commonly referring to himself as a soldier, as a veteran, maybe as a casualty. I’m gonna take a totally wild guess here and say this show is going to be focused on the drug issues in the Philippines. (Wow, Synapse, how the heck’d you guess that?) I do find describing the war on drugs as a war, and going into the terminology that comes with it, very appropriate, and I like how this show is actively calling this to attention rather than using it as a convenient plot. They’re actually addressing the issue and discussing its impact. And given how overlooked certain aspects of the impact of the drug war on the Philippines is, this is a good choice, especially in order to alert American viewers to the issue. I’m curious to see how they handle that.

Again, interesting drawing parallels to war, too, and comparing it against the likes of WWI and Vietnam. It really gives that sense of weight to the issue and defines a vital aspect of it: the impact of the war on drugs on the people involved. It emphasizes that the people who are fighting it suffer consequences and PTSD just as a soldier in the field does, and it also emphasizes, with Kai, that it isn’t just the people actively fighting who bear the consequences. It’s also the people on the sidelines--it’s the families, the people on the streets by the gunfights, the economical impact, etcetera. 

But there’s also an element to Alex’s character that automatically makes him relatable to a lot of people... and it has nothing to do with the PTSD, nothing to do with the war on drugs, nothing really to do with the main issues. It is, simply, the intense hopelessness and depression that comes with trying to make a difference. In his case it’s making a difference on a severe worldwide issue. But the vast majority, if not all, of Almost Paradise’s audience should be able to relate to a feeling of never doing enough. And there’s certainly a large section of that group who can relate to being part of a fight that never seems to end. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing--if it’s driven at helping, it rarely ever feels like you ever do enough. But the advice given is excellent. One of the best things to do, when you’re feeling hopeless over this, is to focus on and take deep joy in the impact you do make. 

Alex is an expression of a frustration that a lot of people deal with. This, I think, is one of the reasons why he instantly drew me--and presumably the rest of the audience--in (outside of a fantastic actor and great humor). He’s relatable. He’s something that most people can see a part of themselves in. 

Anyway, symbolism and real-world talk aside, this is just... fun. It’s genuine fun. We’re covering rough issues, but there’s a lot of well-written tropes in here too that are written in that way that makes them enjoyable to relive rather than painful. The humor is delightful and plentiful. There’s a lot of beautiful feel-good moments. I’m suspecting this’ll be a comfort show, and I am perfectly all right with that. 

Onto the next episode!

[watchmegetobsessed]

Different - Adam Sackler (pt. 5)

OMG thank you so much for all the kind words and love you’ve showed to this series, you made me so happy! as i said, this story sits close to my heart so i’m very happy that so many of you enjoyed it! this is officially the last part of this series so thank you for reading, but i think i will surely write more about Sackler bc im just OBSESSED with him. so follow me or ask me to put you on my Adam taglist if you’d like to read more from me!

series summary: Hannah lets you move in with her and Adam as you are her second cousin and in need of a place to live. Your relationship with Adam starts rocky, but things soon seem to be taking a turn.

pairing: Adam Sackler x Reader

❗️ WARNING: SMUT!❗️

word count: 5k

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

masterlist

If you had to specify the worst period in your life, you’d point to the three months that followed that one hell of a day, without hesitation. You never in your life would have thought you’d end up this hurt, because you somehow always thought you’d have Adam. But you didn’t, because you decided to push him away and even though it broke you in every possible way, you still told yourself it was the right decision to make. The only one you thought you’d made in a while.

He tried to call you hundreds of times for a week after everything that has happened, but you declined all of his calls, and if he left you a voicemail, you just deleted it without even listening, because you knew if you heard his voice that would just make it even harder. You wanted to call him a lot of times, when you were questioning if you’ve made the right decision, your fingers lingered over his contact in your phone several times, but you never called.

For obvious reasons Hannah broke all contact with you and you couldn’t blame her. You deserved everything you got from her and maybe even more. Her words burnt into your mind and you found yourself repeating them in your thoughts quite often, as if your consciousness wanted you to remember how horrible of a person you are. Not that it wasn’t true, to be honest.

It took you three months to somewhat settle down and be able to continue with your everydays after everything that has happened. But it doesn’t mean you forgot any of it. That void Adam left in you was still there, you just learned to ignore it and pretend like you don’t miss him every day of your life.

Tyler quit after the incident with you, being the clever grown man that he is, so at least you had one less thing to worry about. But your days started to blur into one big mess. It took you long to actually try to pull yourself out of this slumber-like state. What really helped you is that you started taking yoga classes. Twice a week you took one hour to yourself, to connect with yourself and do something for your own good.

There’s a juice bar near the studio where you go and you are heading there right now as well, dreaming about a freshly pressed green juice. Walking in you are welcomed by the tiny bells above the door and the sound brings a smile to your face as you stand in line.

When you finally get your juice and pay for it turning around you look for an empty table where you can peacefully read through your emails until you finish your juice, but you stop breathing for a second when your eyes meet a familiar gaze.

“Hannah,” you breathe out as she is looking right back at you from a table in the corner. She has her phone in her hands and a sandwich with a red juice on the table.

“Want to sit?” she offers and for a moment you feel like this is a trap. “Come on, I’m not gonna scream at you I promise,” she chuckles taking her bag away from the empty chair at the table and you take the seat shyly.

“Thank you. I didn’t know you come here.”

“I don’t. I was just in the neighborhood and got hungry,” she shrugs looking down at her half eaten sandwich.

There is a long, awkward silence between the two of you and you have no idea what you should say. The last time you saw her she was basically cursing you out for stealing her boyfriend, but now she seems cool with being around you, which is quite surprising to you.

“So, it’s been long since we last saw each other, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nod, a thousand things on your mind that you want to say, but none of them really comes out. So then you say that one thing that obviously needs to be said. “Hannah, I’m so sorry for everything then went down. I don’t know what has gotten into me, I honestly didn’t want to hurt you, that was never my intention.”

“I know,” she nods with a warm smile and you are more than surprised by her reaction.

“You do?”

“Yeah,” she chuckles. “Look I’m not saying that what you did was right and that I wasn’t supposed to be mad at you, because it was pretty fucked up, I hope you see that. But I lashed out on you a little too hard and not even for the right reason. I mean, when Adam accidentally dropped that you two have kissed, my mind went into chaos pretty fast.”

“That’s the normal reaction to finding out such thing.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t mad because you kissed. I mean, kissing is not even that big of a deal, I have kissed Elijah several times when I was dating other men. Now I know that he is gay, but you get the point, right?”

You just nod, thinking you are following her trail of thoughts though you’re not sure where she is heading with it.

“I was hurt that you two had feelings, I’ll admit that. I wasn’t expecting it to happen, but I’m mature enough to know that it’s not really something you have control over. I mean, I couldn’t control my feelings when Adam and I were just casually sleeping together and I fell for him. I didn’t mean that to happen, but it did!” she chuckles and you crack a smile as well. “Listen,” she sighs laying her hands out on the table. “I’m sorry for calling you disgusting, that was a little… too over the top.”

“Honestly, I think you had every right,” you sigh shaking your head.

“No,” she sighs. “The main reason why I was mad was because… I wasn’t the one who pulled the plug.”

You stare at her for a few moments, confused by what she meant by those words.

“I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, you heard it right. I wanted to be the one to break up with Adam and it bothered me that I ended up being dumped. It hurt my ego, because I was very sure I’d be the one to just end it and walk away like this badass, independent woman, but my breakup plan didn’t go as planned. When I went home that day with the pure intention of breaking up with him we quickly got into a fight and Adam just blurted it out, that he has feelings for you and that you already kissed and he wants to break up, right before I could say it so he took my chance. I didn’t get to be the one who ended it and it bothered me way more than it should have.”

“Hannah…”

“I’m sorry for being a bitch, it was really unnecessary. It still doesn’t change the fact that you fucked my boyfriend,” she adds pointing at you.

“Oh, I didn’t fuck him,” you shyly correct her and genuine surprise shows on her face.

“Really? Because I thought Adam just didn’t want to make me angrier and that’s why he said you just kissed.”

“No. When the kiss happened I felt so ashamed that I told him that nothing can happen until you and him are not officially done. I know it doesn’t make the whole situation better, but I wasn’t gonna be that girl who sleeps with someone else’s boyfriend.”

“Huh,” she huffs to herself, rearranging her whole viewing of what has happened. “Okay, this makes it a little better, still fucked up, but not that much.”

“Good to know. Not that it changes anything, but… yeah.”

“So you really haven’t talked to Adam since then,” she figures from the way you look.

“Did you?”

“I did,” she nods and you raise your eyebrows at her. This conversation is full of surprises. “We met about a month ago at Ray’s birthday. At first we were awkwardly avoiding each other, but then he actually came up to me and apologized.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. Following that, we had a nice talk and I can really tell the guy is suffering.”

“What?” you whisper, feeling your heart immediately breaking.

“He didn’t take it well that you shut him out. And I’m not just saying this because this is what I think. He straight up told me. He told me all about how he hasn’t felt like himself ever since you didn’t let him into your place that night.”

“He told you about that?” you glance away from her. You weren’t expecting her to know so many details.

“Yeah. He really thinks he ruined you.”

“Ruined me?”

“Y/N, Adam is wired differently. He took it like he was to blame for everything and that you blame him for how everything turned out to be.”

“I’m blaming myself, not him.”

“I told him that this is probably what you think, but he would never believe it if it’s not coming from you.”

You sit there in silence, because you don’t know what you could say. You feel horrible knowing Adam has been suffering since your parting, but you still haven’t changed your mind. There’s no way Adam and you could ever make it work between the two of you, you could never do that to Hannah.

“I know what you are thinking,” Hannah speaks up pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re thinking that you can’t be with Adam because it’s not right.”

“This is the truth. I did enough harm with my stupidity.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you got together with him.” “What?” you look at her with wide eyes. Is this a trap?

“Honestly, I’m over it. Despite everything that happened, I love you and I obviously love Adam in some way and it hurts me to see both of you like this. If it’s my blessing that’s holding you back, you have it.”

“But do you actually mean it?”

“I genuinely do. I’m working on being less selfish, something I’ve been told to be quite a lot lately and I think this is a right step towards that. I don’t really have a real reason to bring up why I shouldn’t let you be happy. It would be an egoistic move from me to watch you both suffer when I could easily help. I was over Adam when it all happened, we distanced way before that, this whole thing hurt me in a different way that has nothing to do with you or him. Would it be strange at first? Of course, but I’ve seen and been through stranger things in my life, so I’m not surprised anymore.”

This conversation has truly taken some surprising turns and you would have never thought that by the end of the day you’d have such a relief on the one thing that’s been weighing down on you for so long.

The two of you stay there in the juice bar for another hour or so, just talking and reconnecting, smoothing everything out that’s been building up in yourself through the months spent apart. She brings you the change you couldn’t give yourself and it finally pushes you out of this hell of a circle you’ve been running in for too long.

It takes you an entire week to build your courage up to face Adam. When you leave to his place that evening you’re not even sure if he still lives there, but you decide to take the chance and if it turns out that he has moved, you’ll take it as a sign that you weren’t supposed to meet him.

As you stand at the door silently, you wonder if he is on the other side. If he looks the same or if something has changed on him. Did he get a haircut? Did he maybe shave? Does he even want to see you? The questions keep flowing in and out of you until you just stop thinking and force yourself to knock on the door.

You hear shuffling from inside and then the door flies open and there he is, standing right in front of you in a pair of dark jeans and grey t-shirt, staring down at you with the most surprised look you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

“Hey,” you shyly greet him with a small smile.

“Hey. Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I uhh—I wanted to talk to you. Is it not a good time for you?” you ask suddenly feeling like you are bothering him, after all, you just showed up unannounced, he might have plans or company over. Your stomach churns at the thought of the latter.

“No! Come in!” he shakes his head realizing he hasn’t even invited you in. He closes the door behind you and running ahead he collects some abandoned clothes from the floor and couch so you can sit down. You just smile at him as he throws them into his bedroom before joining you.

“So what’s up?”

“I… I met Hannah the other day.”

“Mm,” he hums, curiously waiting for the rest of the story.

“We talked about a lot of things and we kind of reconciled which was very nice and needed. And she told me about things I didn’t know, the reason why she lashed out so hard on me a-and that she met you a while ago.”

“Yeah, we ran into each other at Ray’s birthday,” he nods confirming the information you got from her.

“She said that you didn’t take well what happened… between us.” You glance at him and his gaze is just so intense, it’s making you feel a lot more anxious than you already are.

“I mean… Yeah, I’m not gonna lie, it’s been pretty fucked up for me.”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For… making you believe that I was blaming you for everything. It was never true, I blamed myself for what happened. I thought that I failed not just Hannah but you as well and that I deserve to be left alone and suffer the consequences of my own actions.”

“Fuck, Y/N, you know we were in this together, why would you blame it all on yourself?” he sighs, frustrated to find out about your feelings.

“Why would you blame it all on yourself?” you repeat his words, feeling like it’s relevant to ask the same thing from him. “We both made mistakes.”

“Yeah,” he nods pressing his lips together into a thin line.

“I’m sorry for not letting you in that night, but I really thought I don’t deserve the smallest happy thing in my life after hearing Hannah lash out on me.”

“You were really driving me crazy. You didn’t even give me a chance to actually talk to you, just shut me out right away.”

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do to change the past,” you say chuckling lightly. He nods in agreement. “Hannah told me some other things too.”

“Like what?”

“That she doesn’t want either of us to stay miserable and if she is the only person standing between us she is giving us her blessing.”

Adam sucks on his breath as the conversation just took a sudden turn he was hoping to happen, but didn’t think it would really.

“So… What does this mean?” he nervously asks and you find it adorable how this huge man, full of muscle and masculinity can look like the cutest creature on Earth.

“Adam, I’m sorry for the way I reacted back then, but I had a lot of time to think and my conversation with Hannah really put things into their place.”

“Alright,” he nods.

“And I think that… If you still want to, we can… give it a try. Give us a try,” you finally say and you see his eyes brightening up immediately, as the corners of his mouth curl up.

“Is this for real? You’re not just fucking with me, right?” he asks gasping and you can’t help but chuckle at his genuine reaction.

“I’m not fucking with you, Adam,” you say shaking your head.

You watch him let his head fall back as his fits fly into the air.

“Fuck yes!” he happily shouts before quickly bouncing back and cupping your face in his hands he kisses you the way he has imagined so many times since the first time your lips touched.

You let the sensation take over your whole body as your hands grip onto his broad shoulders while his hands slide down to your waist and he gently pulls you until you are sitting on his lap, knees on each sides of his, bodies pressed together.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes out, burying his face into your neck as you hold him tight, fingers laced through his hair, just taking the moment in, embracing every emotion as it is, letting them flowing through your body, right into him.

The heat of the moment quickly turns into something sentimental and moving, everything crashing down on you at once and you just let yourself experience it the way it comes to you.

“I really thought I lost you forever,” he mumbles against your skin, placing soft kisses below your skin. “Swear to God if you dare to do it again, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” he chuckles making you laugh as well while the damn tears start forming in your eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out lifting his head and brushing his hair out of his face you just stare into his eyes, those beautiful, hazel eyes you’ve missed so much. “But I’m here now.”

“Yes you are,” he grins before kissing you again.

His lips tug on yours, taking his time with you, while his hands run up and down on your body, exploring every bit of it, but he doesn’t move further. He doesn’t try to take your clothes off or push it and you find it very comforting and securing that he still remembers the things you talked about months ago. But you feel like you are more than comfortable with him to take this next step.

“Adam,” you mumble against his lips, your hands sliding down to his stomach where you grab the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah?”

“You can… You can go for it.”

Stopping he leans back so he can look into your eyes, looking for any sign that tells him he shouldn’t, but you just smile at him shyly.

“Are you sure? Because I’m completely fine with doing nothing, just… lying in bed and being with you.”

“I’m completely sure,” you say pecking his lips shortly. He seems uncertain as you pull his shirt up, but he holds his arms up and lets you undress him, tossing the shirt to the side before laying your palms out on his chest.

Then slowly but surely he gets into action. His hands reach under your thighs and he stands up with you in his arms, carrying you into his bedroom and laying you down to his bed, getting on top of you. His large hands fumble with the small buttons of your shirt, but you reach down to help him and a moment later the shirt is gone and he is pulling your pants down before undoing his own jeans.

You feel secure and comfortable with him, but it’s still a challenging moment regarding of your general anxiety. When he looks down at your body that’s only covered by your lingerie you feel insecure about it and he quickly realizes it.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out as he gets on top of you, kissing you sweetly. “Fucking gorgeous,” he smiles before kissing every inch of your face, making you giggle.

Your lips reconnect and soon the rest of your clothes are gone, leaving both of you naked under his sheets.

“Just tell me when something doesn’t feel good, okay?” he asks after he rolls a condom on and you nervously nod. “Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he assures you seeing how nervous you are.

“I want to, I’m just… I don’t want it to be disappointing to you,” you say quietly.

“That’s impossible. You can never disappoint me, I could come just by looking at you naked,” he jokes making you laugh.

“Oh, so how come you haven’t finished yet?” you ask smirking at him.

“I’m really struggling to hold myself back. You can’t fucking imagine,” he grins kissing you gently. “Don’t think about me, think about yourself. I’m pretty fucking sure what feels good for you will feel amazing to me as well.”

You just nod your head licking your lips as he reaches between you and him and positions himself to your center. He looks you in the eyes one last time, as if he is asking for the final permission and when you nod, brushing his hair out of his forehead, with one slow but confident push he is inside you.

You gasp at the feeling, given the fact that it’s been so long since you’ve been with someone and he is pretty gifted when it comes to his length. But he lets you take your time to adjust to the feeling, staying still and peppering your face with gentle kisses.

“Y-You can move,” you tell him quietly.

“Sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod and moving your hands to the back of his neck you let out a moan as he slowly starts rocking his hips back and forth.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growls into your neck.

At first it feels a little uncomfortable and strange, but you start to loosen up and do what Adam told you; just focus on yourself. Pulling your legs up you let him hit a way better angle, making you moan as he thrusts inside you and you slowly start to find what feels the best for you.

“You good?” he asks breathing heavily and you just nod, biting into your bottom lip as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Do you want to switch it up?”

“Like… me on top?” you ask unsurely.

“It’s an option.” “Um, yeah,” you say, trying to keep your confidence as he wraps an arm around you and carefully flips the two of you over, so you are now sitting on him. You start moving your hips, not too sure what you should really be doing.

“Relax, just do whatever feels good for you,” he comforts you, his hands holding onto your hips as he gently starts guiding you, giving you a direction to start.

It takes a few seconds to finally find what you enjoy the most and when you do, you just go for it.

“Yes, fuck!” he moans, his head sinking into the pillow. Reaching up his hands cup your breasts as you buck your hips up and down, taking up the pace that feels just right.

“Adam,” you moan his name, hands on his chest as you keep moving, feeling your orgasm building up inside you.

“Yeah, you’re doing so fucking great,” he groans, thrusting his hips up matching your rhythm and you whimper from the feeling.

He pushes himself up into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around your body, your hands on his bare shoulders as you just keep moving and panting, your cheek pressing against his. Turning he kisses your jawline, one hand sliding down to your ass, the other one up into your hair at the back of your head.

“Fuck,” he growls and you know he is close, but so as you.

You pick your pace up, desperate for release, you let your head fall back and his lips meet the soft skin on your neck, kissing down on your throat and the moment his fingers dig into your skin at your ribcage you explode.

“Fuck!” you gasp, falling out of your rhythm as your orgasm washes over your body. You hear Adam grunting as he thrusts a couple more times before he comes as well.

Your panting fills the silence in the room in the next few seconds as you come back down from your high, eyes turning back to Adam who is already looking at you in awe.

“What?” you shyly ask.

“And you thought you would disappoint,” he grins kissing your shoulder. “You fucking… sex goddess.”

“Stop!” you chuckle, leaning down you kiss him softly, the raw passion is gone and replaced by a deeper, sensational feeling.

“You don’t regret it, right?” he asks a little later when the two of you are lying next to each other on your sides, facing each other, his hand playing with yours on the pillow.

“No, of course not,” you smile as he laces his fingers together with yours and pulling your hand to his lips he places a chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

“Alright. Good.”

“This is so crazy,” you exhale softly, watching him in awe.

“What’s crazy?”

“How this all turned out to be. So different from what I imagined.”

“What did you originally imagine?” he asks with a curious smirk on his full lips.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you admit chuckling. “But not this for sure.”

His hand reaches out and he pulls you closer to him, legs tangling together as he kisses the tip of your nose, making you smile.

“Well, this is our life now. You are stuck with me.”

“What a tragedy,” you tease him, earning him to squeeze your hip gently. “The greatest tragedy of all times,” you add making him chuckle.

Making yourself comfortable in his arms you feel your eyelids getting heavier with each blink. Kissing his lips softly one more time you let them close and stay closed as Adam kisses your forehead.

“Promise me you’ll be here when I wake up,” he whispers and you open your eyes looking at him, seeing that need for validation in his eyes.

“I’m here to stay, don’t worry,” you reassure him before you let your eyes close again and this time, you slowly drift to sleep, feeling his fingers gently caressing your side until the very last moment you’re awake.

 You smile to yourself upon hearing the front door open and close and when you see Adam walk in a moment later you get up from your bed to greet your boyfriend the proper way on his birthday.

“Hey,” you smile at him kissing his lips softly.

“Hi, I missed you,” he grins giving your ass a gentle squeeze before letting go of you and walking over to your bed he throws himself onto it with a tired sigh.

“How was your day?”

“Just the usual, nothing extra. The guys on set got me a cupcake,” he chuckles to himself.

“That’s cute,” you say crawling onto the bed, thinking about how adorable he would look like with a tiny cupcake compared to his size.

Reaching over to your nightstand you grab the white envelope you’ve had prepared for him, his name written on it in cursive to make it look fancy.

“Happy birthday,” you hand it to him with an excited smile.

“Y/N, I told you no gifts!” he looks at you with narrow eyes. He really did say he doesn’t want anything for his birthday, just to be with you, the only person he is interested in as he said. But you just couldn’t contain yourself and you had a funny idea about his gift.

“I know, but it’s not really a gift. It’s just… something I owe you.”

“Is this a pair of your panties?” he jokes and you just shake your head at him laughing.

“Just open it!”

He gives you a puzzled look as he opens the envelope and looks inside. He pulls out the twenty and five dollar bills with an even more confused look as he holds them up while you just giggle to yourself.

“What is this supposed to be?”

“This is the twenty-five bucks you paid me when we went out with Hannah. I felt like I should pay you back.”

“But why?”

“Because… I would rather not have you paying for a moment in our relationship that was kind of significant.”

“We really bonded that night, huh?” he chuckles placing a hand on your thigh as he puts the money and the envelope away. “Did you think we would end up here back then?”

“Not then. But I was already having thoughts about you.”

“Me too,” he admits smiling.

It’s kind of crazy thinking back at that day now, two months into your relationship with him, it all feels so surreal. You’ve definitely come a long way from ignoring each other in the apartment to being so madly in love.

Leaning closer he kisses you softly, his hand holding your chin tenderly.

“I love you,” he whispers and a wide smile stretches across your face. It’s not the first time he said it, but every time feels like the first, making your heart flip in your chest, completely whipped for this tall, weird but so amazing man you get to call your boyfriend.

“I love you too,” you mumble back before he grabs you by your waist and a moment later you are lying on the mattress, him on top of you, kissing down on your neck.

“Babe?” he asks stopping at your chest, looking up at you from under his dark eyelashes.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask for one thing for my birthday?”

“Sure,” you smile down at him, curious about what he wants.

“I want to fuck you on the kitchen counter,” he bluntly states, and you just chuckle, combing his hair with your fingers.

Rolling off the bed you just walk over to the kitchen counter pushing the boxes and plates to the side before hopping onto the top and crossing your leg seductively, smirking at him while he is still on your bed, watching you completely amazed by you.

“Well, happy birthday to you, big boy,” you say in a low tone and it drives him crazy immediately. Jumping off the bed he rushes over to you, uncrossing your legs so he can stand between your knees.

“Best fucking birthday ever,” he grins before pressing his lips to yours.

-

general/forever taglist for Adam Driver

i do separate taglists for different people, but not for different works of mine! if you ask to be on my Adam taglist, you’ll be tagged in all of my Adam fics!

@superdriver @siren-queen03 @holacherrycola90 @spencer-is-amazing @unusual-kindred-spirits @hailthemightywoecloud @holy-kylo-stars @kowalskibro-adamdriverblog @hurricanesunset @writerandee @luxury-0pps @prncess91 @malefoygal @zaahidahhh @filternotincluded @fire-in-her-veinz​

if you’d like to be taken off or added to the list, please let me know!