#maybe i need to stop analyzing every tiny thing

[darth-khal]

Blake's V5 character short

Blake is strolling through the market in Kuo Kuana where we can see her deliberately stop before a flower stand (even though there is a fish vendor behind and she even checks it).

So she stops to look at the lilies and lotus (pink and white lilies, purple lotus), but she's specifically looking at the pink one - which symbolizes love, feminity, friendship, and admiration.

The first thought that came to my mind was the lyrics of Bmblb, but specifically the part which is believed to be from Blake's perspective:

Now the flowers are in bloom

And you chased away my darkness and gloom

Her expression softens, she leans closer with a smile on her face, like she's remembering, like the flowers bring about happy feelings.

When the wind blows through the trees

And your voice is like a song in the breeze

Then the light wind/breeze starts to blow and her expression changes from happy to sad, looking away from the flowers.

Blake is visibly hurting throughout V4-5 over what happened at Beacon/what happened to Yang. It's what occupies her mind most of the time, so it made me wonder if these few seconds in the video is another example of the pining/longing after what she had. Blake was very obviously very close with Yang, from the way she's acting since V4 she clearly has deeper feelings than mere friendship so it would make sense that even the little things remind her of Yang.

[snowvies]

Mr. Badgley

Penn Badgley x Fem!Reader

summary: you can't stop thinking about your married piano teacher, Mr. Badgley. and one day he slides under the instrument to show you how much he's been thinking about you too.

wc: 1k

cw: age gap (reader 19, Penn late thirties), cheating, piano teacher x student, pussy eating, fingering, female masturbation

Sundays are your favorite days, especially ones like this when the clouds hang low with a murky swirl in the sky. You're nineteen, and college is kicking your ass but you promised yourself you wouldn't think about the papers due when you're here, at Mr. Badgley's house.

You found his ad on craigslist, piano lessons..fifty bucks an hour you would've scrolled past it until you saw him, and his family. You felt safer in a random man's house when his wife and newborn baby were in the same room with you. So you started going there, ever since your freshman year.

Your raggedy car rolllsss to stop and you get out to see the lonely house, picked apart to be perfect, not a single thing out of place... except yourself.

His wife answers the door a few minutes after knocking, the cold biting your bare legs as you run in for warmth, completely missing her scowl at your lack of kicking the mat with your dirty boots.

Mr. Badgley offers you a warm smile, hair combed perfectly, sweater ironed and pants straight like every weekend. His eyes always look a little empty when you come. His wife jingles her keys around her finger as she readjusts the baby on her hip

"I'm going out, be done when I'm home" the same line. Every week. You smile her way but she doesn't pay mind to it, leaving you and her husband to play. you turn to Mr. Badgley but he's already walking to the connecting living room of the tiny house, sitting on the worn bench as he slides the fallboard up.

You sit next to him as he wears an excited smile, when he's like this, playing with you, it doesn't seem orchestrated by his wife. Every move he makes is analyzed by her, except this. The only reason he's allowed to do this is because they needed the extra money.

"Let's start where we left off last week, yes?" he asked and you nodded, you inhaled the mixture of musk and old books that surrounded the pianist as he began the background cords. his eyes are on you, they shine as his spine relaxes into the music and you begin your part. fingers dancing over keys as you try to remember the pattern

Your eyes squeezed shut once you messed the keys up. He smiles softly and lets a laugh out of his nose at your reaction

"Like this," his larger palm rests on top of yours as he guides your fingers, you nod and try again.

Soon enough an hour passes and you both rise from the bench and you dig into your purse for the fifty bucks you crumpled into it this morning, but, warm hands slide on top of your shoulder and the older man shakes his head.

"No need" he grins and tries to send you off but you insist, grabbing the money but he pushes you out the door.

"I will not have you pay for something that I enjoy just as much, Y/n, have a lovely week" The door softly shuts and you're left stunned.

.

You roll around your dorm bed, restless as the man's words keep ringing in your head. Why didn't he let you pay?

Maybe you're being dramatic. But it isn't like the Badgleys are set either.

You shut your eyes in a huff, suffocating yourself in the pillow under you as you replay the keys in an attempt to lull you asleep

But it isn't just the keys you're thinking about...

It's how his hand guided yours, it's how he looked at you when it was your part to play, it's his scent, it's his being. It's driving you mad.

You arch your back slowly, fingers sliding down your body until you get to your aching core. slick-filled fingers rubbing yourself at the thought of your teacher's hands touching you, grabbing you, loving you.

You moan into the pillow, legs shaking as you cream around your fingers, the thought of him drives you wild.

So just how will you act the next time you see him?

.

Before you know it, it's Sunday and you're back at the Badgleys, with his wife announcing her departure and the formal greetings of you and your teacher, you're back at that bench, side by side.

He starts the cords, and you follow trying to calm your shaking legs as you think about what fueled you that night. You couldn't even look him in the eyes this session.

His hand softly squeezes your bare thigh and you look back at the man.

"You're completely off" he informs you and you don't think your face could get redder.

"I-I'm so sorry...let's try again" you panic but his thumb rubs loving circles on your flesh.

"You usually think the world ends when you mess up, but you kept playing this time, you're mind is somewhere else Ms. Y/n."

"Sorry Mr. Badgley" you murmur

"Talk to me, get it off your chest so we can get back to playing" he smiles and you nod slowly

"...Why didn't you let me pay last time?" you ask, he stops for a moment as the hand on your thigh now rests on his face as he thinks for a moment.

"I just feel like, something so pleasurable shouldn't be bought," he says above a whisper and you feel your entire face glow, and he must have noticed with how he laughs.

"Not those pleasures, Ms. Y/n" he smiles and you don't think you've ever been so embarrassed. But when his laughter stops, his eyes swirl softly into something darker, in that moment you feel exposed to every thought as he eyes you.

He stands, hands finding your shoulders

"Keep playing"

You take a shaky breath as your thighs begin to shake once more, fingers finding the keys as you start the song

"Good," he whispers, his scents overwhelming you now as you feel almost dizzy while playing, you barely notice how he slips under the piano.

"Mr. Badgley, what are you doing?" you gasp as his dark brown eyes gaze up at you

"Keep.playing" he says sternly, and with a swallow, you keep going

He kisses your knees and you feel yourself sticking to your panties as he spreads them apart.

He has a wife. He has a kid. What are you doing?

"You're doing great" he huffs, kissing your thighs, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment as his fingers dance up to your panties.

He pulls them down slowly, your wetness sticking to the fabric before they are lost in his pockets

Your bare pussy is in front of your teacher's face as he rubs up and down your thighs taking a shaky breath in

You slam the keys as his tongue licks up your pussy, he moans into you before forcing you to scoot closer into his face, his hands wrapping around your ass as he slurps and moans at your cunt.

"Mr.- fuck" you cry, hands climbing to try and stop your moans as your hips buck up to hump his face

"You taste so so good" he groans, making out with your pussy as he sucks at your clit just to tongue fuck your hole

Hot tears flow down your face as he stares up at you, watching you come undone for him.

You shake around him, orgasm approaching closer with every lick, he sucks on your slit before adding a long finger to your hole. You throw your head back as he fingers you, flicking his tongue relentlessly as his finger curls inside you.

You feel him whine and moan against your pussy, and when you look down you see him gripping and grabbing at his hard-on as he eats you out. You cry as that sends you over and you cum around his finger

You're panting as he curls his fingers a few more times before shoving it into his mouth and licking you clean, you're shaking and wide-eyed as hair sticks to your face and he crawls out from under the piano

Right, weren't you two supposed to be playing right now? Isn't his wife about to be home and he's sucking his fingers because they still taste like you?

He helps you off the bench and you stare into the stained cushion but he turns your chin to him before kissing you deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue before breaking it off with a simple

"My wife is on her way...see you in our next session Ms. Y/n"

And you can't wait for next Sunday.

an: lmk how obvious it is idk anything about pianos. This is based on a dream I had last night 😵‍💫🖤 I hope you liked it <333

[sweetieviktor]

viktor x librarian! reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios) part 1

summary: how you've meet each other, when you feel in love and your first exchange of "i love you"s.

content warning: just tooth rotting fluff and cuteness between those two. :D

author notes: i know that sooo many people writed this same idea but i can't help it, it's just so cute and so good to write!! when i was writing, the words came almost instantly and gods, i love to write fluff so much!! oh, and today, when i was re-reading this with my friend i was thinking the whole time "damn i love him" ((and i was awoken until 3am yesterday trying to finish this one but i feel sleep and couldn't end it, but i finished it this morning and now, at night time, im posting in here! anyways, hope you guys like it. :) (there is more of this concept if you want to see it too! heres the link for part 2!)

» the moment the doors hang open, you turn to see who it is, and as you do so, the whole world stops.

» the prettiest man you've ever seen in your life just came into the library you work in. literally, the prettiest man.

» the way his fluffy hair falls around his face and his curious eyes keep looking at everything, scanning all corners of the room, every little thing he can, shining whenever he sees something he likes.

» and his boyish little smile, barely showing his teeth, that he was giving while talking to a furry someone just by his side.

“oh hi, dear friend!” waving, heimerdinger spoke, walking with tiny, fast steps in your direction, pausing when he was close to you. meanwhile the boy beside him was walking a little slower, his cane thudding softly against the floor.

he stopped near the yordle and looked at your face, giving a polite smile, offering to you his non-occupied hand, and you shaked it, giving him a smile of yours. “i’m viktor, heimerdinger's assistant. he said you could help me with some resources i might need, and i would very much appreciate any help your books could provide.”

“i hope you don't mind him coming here to do some researches, friend. he may come here often!” the yordle laughed, looking between the two of you and then walking away.

“ehhh.. so, do you have any books about-”

» basically, this is how you and viktor knew each other, through a friend in common. and, from this day on, he came to the library more and more often.

» at first, he just showed up, asked for a book you could provide and got out of the establishment. then, he tried to strike up a small talk with you whenever he was waiting for you to look up said books. now, he just straight up rants about any experiment he may be doing at the time.

» and if you're genuinely interested in his rant, he could go for hours just explaining every little detail to you, and he would love every second of it.

» because now he is a regular, you just analyze what he is up to in the most recent days and choose some books that might be useful to him, putting them in the drawer, below the reception desk. and when this happened for the first time he was almost flustered, because you cared enough to look up, sort and search for things that he didn't even asked for.

when you heard the door swing open, you looked at it's direction, smiling as you realized who it was. “hey, viktor! welcome again!” it was the third time this week he got to the library, looking for the same type of books, so you just worked a bit ahead this time. “i don't know if it is exactly what you need but i think that you could use these ones, they have some information you might like.”

“but i still didn't ask for anything..?” he stared at you with a puzzled face, trying to understand why you were giving him those.

“i just think it goes along with your research. also, i wanted to help.” you shrugged, smiling brightly at him.

and maybe this was when he thought for the first time “damn.. i might be in love.”

» after this, he always tried to stay closer to you, to say things you might like, to show you that he cared for you just as much as you cared for him.

» he even brought coffee (he got sweet milk for himself) and pastries for you both to share one day. and this was for sure one of the best excuses to transform a boring afternoon with no clients, into a lazy reading session, this, of course, until a client came and ruined the cutesy atmosphere between the two of you.

» of course he thought about asking you out before, but it was hard. he wasn't used to the feeling of love, of liking someone so deeply like this. so what could he do besides admire you everyday he was in your library? look at you with pure adoration, chuckle lightly whenever you said something that wasn't even that funny, and after it all just show you the most beautiful, bright and in love smile.

» he didn't like to belittle himself, but he really think you would be better with someone that wasn't him. you were so different, yet so alike him, it almost felt like it was meant to be.

» then, in one of his “oh, i will stay here for 15 more minutes and then i'll go home” times (that never lasted 15 minutes, to be honest), it was almost closing time, all of your coworkers were in their homes, no more clients in, simply, not a soul in there. only you both.

» you kept looking in his direction from afar, thinking to yourself how could you get someone so intelligent, so brilliant, so beautiful, so... him. you knew what you wanted, but again, it was hard. and, if saying your feelings out loud was way too scary, writing it all down seemed easier. so, you picked up a pen and a paper, writing in it everything that was inside your chest, your heart. you poured all your feelings into every word that you scribbled down.

» until you heard him packing up his stuff. you started to panic, and now there was only two options, leave the paper as it was and try to act neutral, or try to hide it and look even more nervous? well, there's no time to think! he was already in front of you while your head was spiraling nonstop.

“hey... you are fine? you look stressed.” he examined your face, tilting his head to the side, admiring every little feature of yours. your pretty eyes, your nose, your kissable lips...

“yes! i'm completely fine, no need to worry!” you put your hands on top of the little confession, smiling anxiously, hoping that he don't notice the sweet words you wrote down just for him.

“oh, what did you got there?” he looked at the paper, then at you, and back to paper. on a common day you would like to have his focus only on you, but it was making you even more nervous now, your stomach was turning itself, your hands were cold and trembling. and when he noticed it, he took your hand in his, and you could feel that he was shaking too. “hey... look,” he took a deep breath, almost like he didn't want to continue, like he was still choosing the right words to say. “i understand that some things we just want to keep them personal, only for ourselves. so, ehh, you don't have to show me what you wrote.”, he said with a nervous smile displayed on his lips, while caressing your knuckles with an almost feather-like touch, too afraid to ruin the moment and lose you right now.

and you didn't want to lose him too. even with your brain telling you that you shouldn't tell him, your heart knew you needed to say it, breaking itself or not. so it was now or never. “well... recently i've been thinking about our friendship, about what it could possibly be, about you.” you averted your gaze to the ground, wishing that you came up with fancier words and a better way to confess to him before it all, but you couldn't turn back now. “honestly i can't stop thinking about you, it's like you consumed every logical thought in my brain, everything that wasn't... you.” finally you looked at his eyes, just to see he already looking at you, eyes finally shining for you, because of you. “i love you, viktor. with everything in me, i really love you.” it seemed so right to say these three little words to him, to let him know how you felt since the first time you've seen him.

“and i love you too.” he came closer to you, still with his hand on yours, but now holding it gently, intertwining your fingers together, pressing quickly his lips in yours, smiling in pure awe, completely lovestruck after it. “i love you more than anything, my little star.”

[luvlofiie]

dbf!joel notices you’re not eating…

tw: @nor3xi@ (not confirmed but implied), purg1ng, calorie count, weight mentioned, sh mentioned

disclaimer: i am no pro@na, just thought i’d write something for me and the girlies who need it:) don’t be afraid to reach out if you’re struggling<3

joel didn’t notice it right away. every once in a while he saw the way you’d pick at your food at the dinner table, only taking small bites but staring intensely at it. you weren’t laughing with the rest of your family like you usually would, but he had assumed you were having a bad day, the first few times.

—

when you two would sneak away out of town to go eat dinner, not wanting to run into anyone you know. he saw the way you’d take a little longer to figure out what you want, like you were paying extra details to certain things. his eyebrows raising in confusion when you got a small salad or something off the kids menu instead of your usual steak or pasta. when you’d get the food, you looked almost miserable, staring at his fries, the shiny bun of his hamburger, the perfectly cooked meat on his plate. “you want some?” he mumbled, eyes flicking to the fork in your hand, grazing across the greens in front of you. you heavily debated his question, seeing the worry in his face. you were hungry, you did want some of his food, but you couldn’t. you shouldn’t. but seeing the way he scanned your face, you didn’t want him to catch on. so you smiled, fixing your downed demeanor to a giggly one. “awe well thank you joel,” you started, “maybe i’ll steal a couple fries.” you reached over and grabbed two or three, and placed them on your plate. the rest of the night, you just kept talking. speaking about nonsense, giggling whenever joel gave the ‘i’m too old to understand this’ face. doing everything in your power to keep him from noticing the way you barley took bites of your food, tearing the fries you stole from him into tiny pieces. but joel noticed.

he finally began catching on when you guys made a late night gas station stop. “pick out whatever you want, sweetheart” he said before excusing himself to the bathroom for a moment. when he came out, he saw you reaching for your favorite snack and turning it over to see the back. your face dropping when you saw how many calories were actually in it, slowly putting it back. as you did with every package you picked up. he made his way over, “ya find anything?” it was a test. you were silent in a moment, then reaching for the trail mix. joel saw the way you hesitated, slowly reaching for the bag.

—

after that night, joel began analyzing you. the way you had little to no energy, the way you were constantly going on walks, wearing sweaters in 100 degree weather. when he ate with your family, he saw you cutting the food on your plate into small pieces, pushing it to the side, clearing some space to make it look like you were actually eating. but you weren’t, you’d bring the fork near your mouth plenty of times- but almost every time you would start talking and changing the topic of conversation, bringing it back down.

joel started noticing the bags under your eyes, dark, casting a gloomy shadow to your presence. he noticed the way you started to wear baggier clothes in contrast to the small tank tops and shorts you used to wear before. he noticed the small scars on your wrists and shoulders, yeah they were healed but- they were never there before. you had gone from a bright bloomy girl, to a quiet miserable one. he still loved you none the less, but he wanted to help you. why hadn’t you told him anything? why hadn’t you reached out? he was figuring out a way to bring it up to you, didn’t want to come off too aggressive despite his genuine concern.

his final straw was walking down the hallway to use the bathroom. but when he reached the door, he heard muffled gags and grunts. he knocked on the door, “are you okay in there, sweetheart??” he asked, trying to suppress the panic in his voice. the bang knocking more aggressively, his hand reaching down to he doorknob. then finally, after what felt like hours, it had been two minutes, you opened the door. the tension was heavy, your hair was tied back in my messy low ponytail, your face was puffy, and your eyes red and teary. you two stood in silence for a moment, your mouth opens to say something but Joel beats you to it. “sweetheart why-“ before he finishes his sentence, you push past him and speed walk to your room, shutting the door behind you. crawling into your bed, crumbling into yourself as you began to cry. ‘gosh i’m pathetic’, you thought to yourself.

silent sobs could be heard from behind your bedroom door, that was slowly opened by joel. his heart broke seeing you this way. you felt a dip beside you, “c’mere, sweet girl,” he whispered- his rough yet gentle hands caressing your shoulder. “don’t joel- i’m disgusting.” pulling away from him, you felt so stupid and gross. despite your attempts at pushing away, joel wouldn’t budge. he knew that you need love, need affection, you need him.

he rested his back against your headboard, delicately pulling you into his lap. missing the touch from your lover, you cave- leaning against him and hiding your face in his shoulder as you continued your weeping. joel just sat there, holding you in his embrace full of tenderness. rocking you back on forth as he said affirmations to you, “i’ve got you pretty girl,” “let it out, i’m right here,” “i know baby, i know… i’ve gotcha.” his voice so tender, holding you tighter with each one. he loosened his grip when you began calming down. you didn’t say anything to him, but gosh, did you have so many things to say. but that’s why you loved joel, he understood you, without you having to explain yourself.

the next few months, joel is very attentive towards you. he made sure you had three meals a day, preferably with him; complimenting you as much as he could, “there’s my beautiful girl,” his eyes gleaming with love every time he looked at you; and he promised himself- and silently to you, that he was going to always take care of you, and make sure you feel loved.

[mistress-of-vos]

I'd make a longer post (and maybe one day I will) but since Lore Olympus, the story that introduced me to webtoons is coming to an end I'd like to say something:

I can't believe it is considered problematic. It has to be one of the sweetest, fluffiest, simplest stories I have read (hence why I still like it, it's a relaxing read before bed) and somehow it got too "kinky" for mainstream. It's laughable.

Everytime I dare to click on their tag or look for the # on Twitter or FB I see people clutching their pearls as if Lore Olympus were brainwashing teenagers into marrying a non existent God of the dead and have babies with him. What the hell?

The fact that people think LO is too dark makes me laugh. A single episode of Rick&Morty, BoJack Horseman or HQS has way more explicit content and dialogue. In fact!!! If it were up to me LO would have gotten genuinely kinky!!! All it does is have some surface spicy tropes that get sugar coated to not make puritans awkward and tbh that's sad. LO and the author get terribly hated anyway for daring to portray the most common female fantasy.

And this all makes me laugh but also mad because you'd think LO at least has some genuine dark themes but no? At most we have Persephone's trauma due to Apollo's abuse and yet that topic is treated as a therapy pamphlet because people couldn't handle an imperfect victim. Hades is a wife guy who shows little to no anger. Hera was re written to be sort of a feminist so that people stopped being annoying about women having emotions.

LO is a sweet, simple story with tiny spicy things here and there that were eventually pushed aside because people couldn't handle it. I wonder how Rachel feels about this, because at the beginning the story was extremely spicy and the only crime was being published in a platform as webtoon, full of people who can't differentiate reality from fiction.

Is LO a masterpiece? Idk! I enjoy the story, it's very self indulgent for me, but I won't go and analyze every detail to see how it should be labeled as it's not meant to be a perfect media. It's meant to be an entertaining, nice story of romance and it does that job very well. This need to demand perfect writing while also crucifying authors over "dark" themes is ridiculous and contradictory.

And I keep wondering, if these people loathe LO so much, why dedicate all that time to the infinte posts they make about how they would have told the story? And all those re tellings are boring! It's always "So Persephone and Hades won't ever kiss here because she's a lesbian. Also he doesn't appear at all. And Demeter isn't an abusive mom! Oh and everyone is ugly because gods shouldn't be beautiful! And Apollo isn't evil he's uwu baby. And no toxic relationships here, Zeus is a good husband!"

Sweet Gaia, you guys wouldn't handle Saint Seiya having Athena in the body of a teenage girl with big tits and who's constantly in the edge of breaking her virginity vows. This attitude screams of jealousy and puritanism and both are disgusting.

TLDR: LO being too problematic for people is both funny and annoying. I wished it actually were as kinky and dark as people insist it is. I'd pay for a toxic romance, but that being said, I LOVE it very much as it is and it's nice to have a re telling that, while not pretending to be loyal to mythology, didn't go for a route of sanitizing all the myths. I hope that once it ends haters will move on and let real fans and the author alone. 🙏

[sitboi]

Oh that's a wonderful concept! May I offer "Smile" for Oakweave?

I loved doing this one so much I almost forgot these are supposed to be tiny fics...

------

READ ON AO3 | G | 690 words

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The Druid's smile is contagious. Gale notices it the moment they rescue him, as Halsin slides back into his human body and grins down at them. It feels like the whole party smiles back.

Then again, after, in the grove. He’s just yelled at Kagha, but he turns away from her and sees them and the anger evaporates, replaced with a genuine show of teeth that wrinkles the skin around Halsin’s hazel eyes. 

It’s refreshing, if only because none of them seem truly happy these days, Gale thinks. He keeps track of that smile without meaning to, letting the corners of his own lips rise higher and higher each time he sees it; at the celebration, on the road, right after every long battle, and all through the underdark. 

Then Gale is told he needs to die, and Halsin’s smile becomes an unfortunate lifeline. 

Maybe that’s why Gale suddenly feels like crumbling when they stand on the beach, Halsin’s smile no longer reaching his eyes as a portal blares behind him, and no one else seems to truly notice. The battle itself is a blur, awareness of it never outweighing the sound of his own racing thoughts.

Then Halsin is back, clutching a child in his arms, and he doesn’t smile again for several days. 

Gale watches his face as he explains later—the sadness roiling through his own chest—that Thaniel is no longer whole. 

—

“We have bigger things to tackle right now.” It’s Tav who says it, as Gale tries to convince a few of them to go back out into the dark with him, following the small lavender lead Halsin was able to provide. 

Gale feels his own lips pressing into a grim line, as something quietly snaps inside him. 

“You don’t if you value having me with you.” 

In the end, they agree to try tomorrow, and Gale agrees to let that be good enough, and he knows Halsin must have heard them squabbling. When Gale watches him across camp later, the druid’s smile has finally turned sad, and his eyes never leave the ground as he shuffles through his camp supplies. 

Something in Gale’s chest feels suddenly obvious, but he blames it on the orb and goes to bed. 

—

They do find Thaniel’s other half, and Halsin’s smile comes back relieved, but they also find out why Kethric is really immortal, and the edges of the days begin to blur as they face one battle after another. 

Then they finally see it, in the depths of the mind flayer colony, held down by Netherese magic and stupidly confident villains; the absolute. 

Gale was given a task, and no one speaks to stop him when he puts one foot forward to complete it. It could all end right here, it should, it’s supposed to. 

But Halsin won’t smile about it, Gale thinks, and that’s stupid. It’s so selfish, and it shouldn’t matter, not in the face of saving the world—not in the face of obeying Mystra—but why save a land just to destroy it right after? 

A smile that hasn’t even happened yet, shouldn’t matter. 

It keeps him alive though. It helps him keep all of them alive. 

—

Gale waits until they make camp outside of Wyrm’s crossing, before he really analyzes what’s been building in the back of his big-dumb-brain since the day they met Halsin. He turns it over and over until he could write a book about it, or at least a few verbose pamphlets, then he lets it carry him across camp. 

“Hi,” is all Gale manages to say when he gets there, and he knows the smile on his face is sheepish, but Halsin returns it with one that’s truly blinding. 

“Hello,” he returns softly, and the thing in Gale’s chest—that may soon overtake the orb—flutters. 

“I was wondering,” Gale starts, “if you might have some time to spare? And if so, if you’d…” He trails off, faltering, but Halsin is still smiling and Gale refinds himself, “well, I was wondering if you would spare it with me.” 

The smile widens. 

“I would like that very much.” 

-----

Send me One Word & One Pairing, and I'll attempt a drabble fic

[switchscene]

One thing I've learned from busking is that people have zero media literacy.

My boyfriend and I go and busk in a touristy area all the time, old folks come to our island to snowbird every year and they love us. They'll ask about Max's mandolin or my tiny banjo (it's not a banjolele I will yell if you insist it is it has five strings), ask where we're from and are just taken when I reply in my lil southern drawl that "I grew up on the mainland just across the river," or listen to Max talk about liking the south more than California.

If you sandwich Days N Daze's To Risk To Live, or Blaze Foley's Election Day, or our song about John Henry that pulls no punches calling out historic and modern racism between a couple traditional folk songs, old conservatives will completely miss the messaging and just clap along (and give us money). Some folks will stop and talk to us for minutes on end, talkin about how good it is that we're keeping traditions alive and playing old time stuff, or marvel at the novelty of a washboard, but the message is completely lost.

And while this is busking, it's making scratch for bills and cigarettes and not meant to change hearts and minds, sometimes it's disheartening.

My buddy Bobby (of Blossomin' Bone, linked) has said the same thing about Take the Gold, a song he and his wife wrote about how money is fake and being worn down by society's need to chase it fucking sucks. But folks hear a banjo and a story about hopping freight trains and everything else goes out the window.

And I think if you're creating content (of any kind) that has an alternative bent, that operates on or talks about the margins of society, you have to kind of take with a grain of salt that your content will probably find its way to people that don't share your values. And maybe they'll analyze their worldview after hearing your stirring lyrics or seeing your art, but most likely they won't. What Machine you're Raging Against will be lost on them, but that won't be the case for the intended audience, and I think that's okay because it's inevitable. Keep making it cause it makes the world a better place.

Up the punx y'all~

[kelpeigh]

Okay as long as I'm out here defending and over-analyzing Too Sweet here's an old text I sent a friend at 4am shortly after Too Sweet came out:

“Too Sweet” is a huge shift in a narrator's perspective from anything we've seen from Hozier before. It's the closest a Hozier narrator's come to blaming "Babe" for the breakup. And as a result we finally learn something about her, not just how the nature of his love for her and what he'd do for her/what effect she has on him

Most of his songs that have anything to do with heartbreak either have the narrator shouldering the blame completely, or maybe possibly sharing a tiny bit of the blame with Babe: -All Things End is all “even a perfect match can’t stay together forever, technically” -Unknown has the slight dig of “and there are some people, love, who are better unknown” and is an overall vague acknowledgment of some betrayal (though I still don’t quite see it fitting in the theme of treachery tbh) -NFWMB (not a heartbreak song but worth a mention) is “if she kills me, don’t prosecute. She wouldn’t kill me if I didn’t have it coming and if she killed me then oh, what a way to go”. -Cherry Wine runs into problems with fan reception because the narrator self-victim blames, and romanticizes the hell out of the abuse. Even when Babe is clearly in the wrong, the narrator is saying “but I love it and I’ll always come back for more, so what blame is there to assign? What good would that do?” Having volunteered for a crisis line, our hands are kind of tied if someone calls with a clear problem (drugs, abuse) but doesn’t see it as a problem. If they call because they’re upset about a death in the family and casually mention using meth 10x a day, we focus on the death in the family. I think about that every time I listen to Cherry Wine -Jackie and Wilson: “well that’s what I get for putting someone I just met up on a pedestal, whatchagonnadoaboutit”

“Too Sweet” itself has the thesis statement of “good for you, live your own way, literally no FAULT in it (kinda sad you prob fell victim to a system that's selling you your own health at the cost of the full human experience :'c but That's Capitalism, babey), but it’s not compatible with how I want to live”.

So it's still not saying “you wronged me” or even “you annoy me” on any level. So still not necessarily assigning blame. HOWEVER. This is the most we’ve ever actually learned about the object of his affection in any song, and it happens to be the one where he’s most directly complaining. In other songs he’ll allude to qualities of Babe in ways that tell us a lot more about the narrator’s view of her, than anything actually about her. We learn she’s “like the love that discovered sin” etc, but…. Literally his whole discography to this point concerning a lover only tells us HE loves her so much she inspires HIM. He’ll be the shrike to her thorn, he’ll fuel the pyre of her enemies, he’ll crawl home to her. But what about her inspires this devotion? What about her prompted the creative metaphors he used to express that devotion? I think the closest we got until 2 days ago was “she’s the giggle at a funeral”. She’s funny enough to make you laugh even in the bleakest of settings. But the rest of TMTC is “here’s a list of the feelings she makes me feel and the things I’d do for her.”

It feels like he’s been so careful to not badmouth anyone ever that he inadvertently scrubbed any identity away. In his selflessness, he makes it about himself. Don’t get me wrong, when he hides behind poetry we get some of the most beautiful lyrics of all time. I’m not saying he needs to stop. In fact it’s something that’s always stuck out to me in a good way: his lyrics are elevated beyond any one experience. It makes them evergreen and still relatable to a bitch like me who’s only ever gone on one date, and only agreed to that date as a joke. I’m not accusing him of copping out the way a lot of pop stars do, leaving out details to lower the common denominator of about whom he can possibly be singing. His other love songs are not lacking by omitting characterization of Babe. He simply hasn’t needed to describe her in any way; if anything he is painting a beautiful picture AROUND her silhouette that tells us everything that matters.

Like. The fandom girlies (no hate, I'm one) get to insist that Hozier wrote xyz song about/for their ship because he wrote about the act of loving, not loving a specific person. So it can apply to anyone. I bet you anything Too Sweet will get hijacked 80% less because he hasn’t scrubbed the object away and left us only with the eye of the beholder.

But this new POV is engaging a whole new aspect of his point of view.

In Too Sweet we FINALLY learn she goes to bed by 10 and gets up at dawn, she’s careful about what she eats to the point of insanity, etc. Stuff she does. Stuff she likes. Stuff she refuses to do.

In summary: Too Sweet is, to me, a million times more intimate than Warm Climate, because after 10 years he’s finally telling us what kind of person takes him to church (in this case, health influencer church)

[hellpotter]

'tis the damn season

Chapter 6

December 21st, 2023 It was good that Sally kept watching her while she made her way to the side entrance of the garage. Otherwise, Annabeth would probably have given up. Each step she took came with a higher level of anxiety, and, admittedly, she had considered just giving up on her car altogether while weighing on her options the night before.

So, it was probably good that, when she took a quick glance behind her shoulder, she saw Sally leaning against the half-opened door. With that, she really hadn’t much of a choice or even time to overthink the situation.

It didn’t even occur to her that maybe she should knock.

“Hey, ther-,” she stopped herself, one foot inside, hand still on the door. She had pictured a thousand different scenarios for this moment: Percy all covered in grease; the garage being turned into a fancy shop; and even a very inappropriate dream that started with Percy answering the door shirtless and ended with- Well, it didn’t matter. Either way, she hadn’t imagined this.

Percy was leaning against her car, chatting with a girl she’d never seen before. He seemed relaxed, but she couldn’t read her body language very well. She had tanned olive skin and dark hair, a beautifully done braid cascading down her shoulder. They were laughing about something he’d said, but she couldn’t pin down exactly the relationship between them. Percy had his back turned to the door, so the girl was the first to see her.

“Percy, I think you have a visitor,” she announced.

“Oh,” Annabeth cleared her throat, and went fully inside. “Hi.”

Percy turned his head to look at her, and she felt the girl’s gaze piercing through her. He stood up straight, taking a step away from the car, and Annabeth swore she could see every muscle on his body tense up, the relaxed posture vanishing so fast that she questioned if it was even there to begin with.

“Hey,” he said, awkwardly.

“Um, you said I should come around 3pm?,” she offered, certain that she sounded very dumb and obvious, but not knowing what else to say. “I went by the house, but- uhm, your mom said you’d be here.”

He nodded in response. Annabeth couldn’t fully read his expression, and she hated it. He was clearly uncomfortable, but she felt like he was holding something back.

With a tiny delay, he seemed to snap out of his shock.

“Yeah, sure, I-“, he shook his head, seemingly clearing his mind, and the gestured toward the girl beside him, who had been standing there this whole time clearly analyzing Annabeth. “Annabeth, this is Reyna. Reyna that’s Annabeth, my, uh… an old friend of mine.”

Ouch. That stung. Annabeth raised an eyebrow.

“Well, that’s an understatement.” She knew that maybe it wasn’t the cleaverest thing to say, or even the most polite. But she couldn’t stop herself.

Reyna – she now knew her name – let out a short laugh. “Ha, I like her already,” she said, something quickly passing through her eyes. Amusement? Surprise? Annabeth couldn’t say.

She threw her an awkward smile. “Nice meeting you, Reyna.”

“Likewise,” her eyes went from Percy to Annabeth, observing the way he scratched his neck, uncomfortably, and how she nervously pulled her fingers. It must have been painful to watch their discomfort, really. “Look, I’m gonna leave you guys to it. You obviously need to talk.” read more on ao3

[anendoandfriendo]

WE NEED MORE POSTS TALKING ABOUT BEING SYSIAN AND PLURILLEAN AS LEGITIMATE ORIENTATION TERMS OUTSIDE OF BEING ASPEC.

That doesn’t make y'all invalid if a system is sysian or plurillean and that DOES make them aspec.

But not acknowledging this as a separate orientation reeks of sysmedicalism to a lot of us (as in, us, Rusanya), we see a lot of things that do this that aren't intentionally sysmedicalist but are like Just There as a direct result of plurmisic oppression (see: our vents about how roles are used, how people assume endogenics cannot have CDDs and how that implies to the world we're magically immune to trauma! regardless of your actual intentions, and similar vents).

Critical analysis skills are in fact at an all-time low and that includes being sociologically-minded, we finally figured out the words for it, thank fuck. Being able to treat a thing as legitimate as well as justified while also understanding some of the nastier aspects of the history of that thing does not suddenly mean you're endorsing the nastier thing lmao, that's like saying because you're using roman columns you're like, wdk, entirely and fully devoted a dead empire and everything it has ever said and done and condone every single tiny thing it did in the name of its wars and atrocities etc etc etc.

You get what we mean?????

But because (from our observations) that skill is just so blatantly not there for so many people everything is read in bad faith and it's assumed our intent is to attack when our intent is to, like, point out something we percieve is an actual problem. Like. Constantly. We feel like we cannot talk about things we percieve as issues (or at least, if not issues, maybe just things that are unacknowledged) pretty much ever lest we get disembowled by the online community. Jeez.

Saying it one more time: we could be wrong here, but our observations have indicated that a lot of people do not have adequate skills to identify the actual repercussions of living in a society. Not just the things that are told to you, but also what is NOT said, what is simply assumed, and what the meanings of words are to the normative power versus what YOU are saying.

And in order to like, discuss actual issues. And. Not rip people apart. That's...do people understand that is a necessary skill to have so you don't fall to propaganda, for starters?

We feel like this explains a lot of things (not in their entirety but as a common thread maybe?):

Antishippers

Sysmedicalists

Transmedicalists

Any -medicalist to be honest

People who fell down the alt-right pipeline in some way unintentionally (so, pretty much all of the above but like, can be its own thing too so worth mentioning)

And like, probably way more, but. Like. We know we're rehashing an ages-old discussion with ourselves especially when we say "propaganda exploits that type of ignorance and unwillingness to analyze things," and so, when we say "words MEAN THINGS" what we generally are saying, so, when you're deconstructing them, you HAVE to understand how those words are used when a normative power applies them to a marginalized one.

-------

That's why we also fucking fixate on system roles so much we think, they're the most direct example that we can easily apply that is relevant to us in a way that makes them easy for us to deconstruct. "Role" to us has a very specific connotation and in relation to the normative power, a "role" implies a point of purpose. The way singlets call their friends a "protector" implies a personality trait as in "oh my friend is such a protector, you know?" but saying "my headmates role is a protector" implies a point of purpose, something that as far as we are aware, is a concept introduced by singlets and then forced onto our communities as plurals and systems.

We will never tell people to stop using words the way they personally like, but, for us, the way we can see this being fixed is...just saying "my headmate is a protector" or "she's such a caregiver haha" because it no longer implies a point of purpose.

And the point of that analysis is more about "is it even useful to imply a point of purpose" because, as much as we all hate it, we DO live in a society. It's not exclusionism to ask yourself WHY you use a label, and the pathways that could have led you to that and what the alternatives could have been or could be.

A point of purpose is the language of dehumanization when applied to systems and plurals. So, let's make it so even respectability politics is no longer respectable. Nothing would make a singlet more uncomfortable than forcing them to admit we are people and to wrangle their own language against them.

Do you understand what Rusanya is trying to say when Rusanya says all of this? 😖

[ladyluscinia]

Oh so they're doubling down on saying that enjoying a character they don't like and being defensive (and, admittedly, a bit petty) in what's effectively a Flame War is a red flag for demonstrating cult-like fandom behavior, while clarifying that no one is actually calling Izzy fans a cult. Yet. Just saying we need to nip this in the bud, you know?

(This being... what exactly? Arguing about S2 predictions on tumblr? Vaguing people? - Hi! 🫡 Having "bad" takes that may or may not be problematic? Bitching about tagged character crit / hate about your fave, sometimes on the posts in question? Dedicating blogs to wank? Welcome to every-fandom-ever-including-BlackBonnet, I guess.)

Not a new accusation, but since people are once again making ominous statements about the "concerning" potential of a Snapewives situation... maybe we should pass around a reminder of who, exactly, they're referencing?

The Snapewives (Fanlore Link, Reddit Synopsis) were an extremely small niche forum in a really huge fandom that are pretty much only known for infamous levels of cringe that got them mocked relentlessly when discovered by Fan Wank. We are talking a tiny subsection of a subsection of a subsection of the massive HP fandom that got really earnest with their self-insert fanfic / roleplaying (and really didn't like the canon ending of Snape's arc). There's actually a really interesting paper on analyzing "Snapism" as a religion that alludes to their particular issues with Christian faith and erotic fantasies, and can kinda sketch in how they might have gotten to where they did. It's weird, no doubt, but honestly sounds pretty harmless?

Like, I'm not sure if we're using the BITE model that they would even count as a real cult - "Snape" seems very controlling and makes them do things (cook specific dinners, stop biting nails, go on diets, etc.) but, like, there's no cult leader being "Snape". These are all self-assigned "tasks" via "channeling" (which is again weird but not super unique - read the paper) and then the women themselves disagree on things and could just come across as a really intense roleplaying forum having disputes over ratings for self-insert fic, among other things.

The situation is different when there's an obvious cult leader - see the extensive documented history of Andy "thanfiction" compiled here. Trigger warnings for sexual assault, abuse, manipulation... all the stuff you expect from cults. And really getting into reading the supplementary info will take you many hours, btw.

Anyway... having looked extensively at our "fandom cult" examples, I don't think I'm remotely "concerned" that we're veering toward cult behavior. Or Snapewives behavior. The Izzy section of fandom - and, for that matter, the Izzy Anti section of fandom - haven't really done anything that hasn't been done in countless flame wars before? Like we as a collective haven't even gotten to the levels of targeted character hate that I can glimpse by searching "Teen Wolf" right now, and frankly OFMD still isn't big enough to dream of replicating 2010s fandom's biggest hits. There's some cutting edge weaponization of social justice that's a more modern development, but that's still fundamentally just fighting about the fiction. Even the one doxxing incident is unfortunately not unique.

Sheesh, "Izzy Canyon" isn't even demonstrating a unified meta or consistent S2 desires / shipping preferences / etc. We're just better at not being dicks about it by necessity?

[kitkatwinchester]

I'M FINE AND I'M DEFINITELY NOT CRYING!

...jk I am very NOT fine and I am DEFINITELY crying. :'( :') :'( :') :'( :')

But AS YOU CAN SEE, it is a mix of happy AND sad tears, so...it's okay!

Kind of...

Sort of...

*SCREAMS*

SCOTT AND LIAM!!!

KATE AND CHRIS!!

SCOTT AND DEATON!!!

STYDIA!!!

SCOTT AND ARGENT!!!

SCILES!!!

SCOTT!!

Literally so much tearing up over here with all of these relationships and how much all of these people care about each other I cannot.

Order of events?? Groupings/pairings? POVs?

Combination of all three.

Except I'm not really gonna go in order of events because I wanna end with Scott's speech, so...mostly groupings/pairings/POVs. XD

ANYWAYS.

STYDIA, oh my god. <3 <3

The fact that Lydia feels so guilty for pushing Meredith over the edge, but Stiles is right there to comfort her, and to remind her that she wasn't alone there, and she isn't alone now.

The fact that, just like always, their combined brain power and abilities finally solves the puzzle, because they finish each other's thoughts and understand each other in a way that no one else does.

The fact that, while Lydia's bansheeing and typing, Stiles just gets right next to her, reminding her that he's there, and providing the comfort and support that she needs (and yes, this is Stydia centric, but don't think I'm just going to IGNORE that, according to Lydia, DEREK'S GONNA DIE. NOT OKAY. PLEASE STOP THAT FROM HAPPENING!).

The fact that they're so quick to analyze and skim and plan their next move once they see the new names (notable names include Satomi, Malia, LIAM, and Meredith...).

The fact that Stiles gets closer to Lydia the second he realizes she's in distress from the phone call so that he can listen in and be there for her (also just the fact that Meredith's dead period is so f*cking sad and I feel so bad for her, and I wish she hadn't felt so trapped that she felt the need to do that, because that's so f*cking awful.).

The fact that she just turns to Stiles in pure shock, and he just pulls her in and holds her, and he doesn't let go, even when all Lydia can do is stand there in horrified shock.

The fact that, no matter what happens, Stiles will ALWAYS be there for Lydia, and he will never let her blame herself, and never let her doubt herself, and never let her give up, because he knows how capable she is.

The fact that, no matter what happens, and what she might say, Lydia will always revel in Stiles's comfort, and she'll always need him, and she'll always love him, and ultimately, she would do anything for him, because she would rather die than lose him.

THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH I CAN'T!

GOD I NEED STYDIA ENDGAME SO BAD!!

I NEED IT I NEED IT I NEED IT!!!

*SCREAMS*

*CRIES*

Okay okay. That was a big ol’ start.

The smaller things.

That tiny little Sciles scene at the end, where Stiles is the only other person that Scott told about the money, and they're both staring at it like they're not sure how they feel about it, but they also know they both need it, and because they're Sciles, they decide that the next best thing to do is count it and go from there. It's such a small thing, but you know me--I take every small Sciles thing I can get. ;)

And then, another small thing: Kate and Chris, OMG. Like, okay, as much as I hate Kate, I kind of feel bad for her and Chris in this situation. No matter what's happened and how much bad has gone down between them, they're still brother and sister, and neither of them really wants to hurt the other. And I don't trust Peter for a SECOND (because why would I?), but I know he's right about the fact that Kate just wants her family back, and despite the code, and despite all the bad that Kate has done, I'm sure Chris wants the exact same thing. And that HURTS, and I'm honestly really hoping for a Kate redemption arc, because I would love to see both of them reunite having grown and learned from their mistakes and maybe finally be on the same side again.

AND THEN SPEAKING OF KATE AND CHRIS!

THE FREAKING BIGGIE!

SCOTT AND ARGENT AND SCOTT AND DEATON AND SCOTT AND LIAM AND FREAKING SCOTT!!

The fact that, after that crazy fight with Kate, Chris's first concern is Scott. And the way he looks at him once he realizes that Violet is dead and they've lost their only lead....

The FACE that Scott makes, so dejected and feeling like a failure because he thinks he's already lost his Beta, but Chris is so determined to convince him that there's still time, and they can still find him.

And then LIAM, trying SO hard to get out, but SO hurt and getting SO tired, and using his last bit of strength to just release that howl ("How do wolves signal their location to the rest of the pack?" "They howl." <3 <3), and Scott HEARS IT!

And the way he turns his head, this new hope that's also filled with concern, because THAT'S HIS BETA.

And they were SOOO far, so you KNOW that he BOOKED it, and he MADE IT, and at the LAST SECOND, when Liam was losing every ounce of strength he had left, Scott GRABBED HIM, and he SAVED HIM!!

And Liam is so scared, and in so much pain, but he just looks at Scott in utter relief.

And Scott is so worried, but there’s relief in his face and his voice, telling Liam he's okay, but also questioning it, because he has to make sure, and the way Liam just looks at him, and Scott just sighs in relief, and repeats it, because they both need to hear it.

And then he PULLS HIM IN, and he holds onto him with EVERYTHING HE HAS, and he just closes his eyes, and convinces himself that he's there, because he ALMOST LOST HIM, but he's OKAY, and he's HERE, and he's OKAY.

AND THEN WHEN THEY FINALLY GET HIM TO DEATON!

AND DEATON HEALS HIM!

AND SCOTT JUST PUTS THAT GENTLE FOREARM ON HIS FOREHEAD TO SETTLE HIM!

AND BRUSHES HIS HAIR AWAY FROM HIS FOREHEAD IN THE PROCESS!

HE CARES ABOUT HIM SO MUCH I CANNOT!

THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND HAVE ALREADY BONDED SO WELL AND I JUST--

THIS ALPHA-BETA PAIRING WAS MADE TO BE I SWEAR!!!

I LOVE THEM!!! <3 <3 <3 <3

AND THEN THAT WHOLE SCENE WITH SCOTT AND DEATON AND ARGENT!!

"I don't want to keep watching people die." "I'm not sure you have much choice about that." "Maybe I do." "That's a lot of burden to carry, Scott." "I don't care."

And they're trying SO HARD to convince him that people are going to die, and it's not always his fault, but Scott DOESN'T care.

Because he's SCOTT.

Because he's TRUE ALPHA SCOTT F*CKING MCCALL!

And he will do WHATEVER he has to do not just to protect those he loves, but to protect everyone.

Because he's SCOTT F*CKING MCCALL, and nobody dies on his watch.

And I'm tearing up so much, because that really is such a burden, and there's no way he can save everyone, and my heart is clenching at the fact that he feels like he has to, but it's also filling with so much love and appreciation and respect, because THIS is what makes Scott amazing, and THIS is what everyone loves about him.

THIS is why the McCall Pack is the most loyal pack out there.

THIS is why he's a True Alpha.

THIS is why he's worth 25 million dollars.

THIS is why he's untouchable.

"No one else dies." "I'm gonna save everyone."

You know what, Scott.

Let's do it.

Let's save everyone.

If anyone can do it.

It's you.

And it's the McCall pack.

God, what an ending to an episode.

What a SEASON this has been already!!

I may or may not be able to watch more tonight, but you KNOW I'll be watching tomorrow, because I'm sure it only gets better from here, and I also know that @slice-of-magenta's Sciles scene is in the next episode, so OBVIOUSLY I need to see that, and I just...

THIS SHOW!!

THIS PACK!!!

THESE CHARACTERS!!

THEIR RELATIONSHIPS!!

I LOVE THEM ALL!!

"I'm gonna save everyone."

Let's go save everyone. <3 <3

(JUST LOOK AT THEM!!! THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND I LOVE THEM I LOVE THEM I LOVE THEM!! <3 <3 <3)

[dearweirdme]

"I would love to know your opinion on this

So basically, jungkook liked an old video from real_chuther on tiktok dancing to seven. In the video she's wearing a super cropped shirt & super baggy pants which shows her thong when she's dancing. Obviously done purposely based on her other videos. This caused people to kinda make it a big deal on Twitter.

I personally didn't think too much of it until I saw a twt that he updated his tiktok name to 'jk, army, & bts', so this made me curious and I went to his page and noticed he also unliked the girls video. Maybe it's just me, but I find it weird how jungkook's first instinct when there's something involving a woman is to throw a lot of love to army and bts. He did the same with the leaked video. He tried to do damage control and said he doesn't have a gf and wants to focus on work and that he only needs army..

The more stuff like this happens the more I start to get convinced that jungkook is indeed straight 🙃 it's also starting to look like he has a type."

I copy-pasted this from another blog because I really want to know your opinion on it.

Hi anon!

Well, basically I think people are trying to connect dots that aren’t supposed to be connected. Why would one thing (him changing his Tiktok name) be connected to people making a fuss about a TikTok he liked? I feel Jk is still figuring out what to do with his TikTok now that it’s public and he’s just changing up things. You could also make the case that he unliked the girls video, because people were making it about his sexuality.. regardless of what that is.

Fandom speculates on these tiny things too much and always make it about his sexuality/relationship, while there’s many other factors at play. Jk does not need damage control for liking a video like that. That ask saying ‘his first instinct is..” while they have no clue about the thought process behind it is very much making drama out of nothing. People need to stop analyzing his every move.

[pidgecv]

I felt the need to write the meeting from Cleo’s perspective. Pls look at lykaios’ original work which I have reblogged recently because I love it so so much and I did not write the dialogue or plot of this at all I could literally never omg it’s so good hehe BUT without further explaining I wroted :3

In Cleo’s defense, she wasn’t in her right mind that day.

It had been another sleepless night in the base. Ever since the building collapse, her once endearingly tiny base felt like a coffin. Every spot of mold and hairline fracture in the drywall working to make her hands shake and her heart race. She couldn’t shut her eyes without feeling the weight of the ceiling caving in on her, crushing her lungs and burying her alive. 

Nowadays she wasn’t sleeping. She would search until her body shut down, only to wake maybe one hour, one day, one week later to her own screams and tears, so violent they would cause her to choke on the bile and salt water. 

Cleo had been searching for supplies when she saw a smudge of color dart in front of her and behind a wall.

���Ellie?” Cleo called out tentatively, moving towards the wall where it went. It had been just the right size to be her. Cleo must’ve found her. She quickened her stride and called out again.

“Ellie?!” Her search took her out onto the street. Her instincts were screaming at her to get out of the open, stop making so much noise, but her heart was pounding so loudly she was certain that it wouldn't have made a difference. 

“Ellie! Where are you?” A few seconds passed and she heard a loud slamming sound from around the corner. She froze, heart soaring. 

“Ellie? Is that you?” Cleo made a point to slow down and lower her voice. Her sister could be hurt or disoriented. The last thing she wanted was to scare her. She heard the slamming sound again and managed to catch a glimpse of a small window inset into the ground shutting. She closed the gap between her and the window as quickly as she could without running. The window was latched, normally she’d be able to open it with a bit of fiddling but with her shaking hands and cloudy mind it was impossible. She braced herself and kicked in the window, flinching at the noise and hoping that she didn’t scare Ella too much. 

Cleo slipped in, minding the sharp edges of the window and looked around for any sign of her little sister. The room was reasonably sized, and strangely enough didn’t look abandoned. There was no dust anywhere at all, which set Cleo’s alarm bells off immediately, but she ignored them in favor of looking for any signs of her sister. 

“Ellie, please.” She pleaded. “It’s me, Cleo! I’ve been looking for you for- so long!” Cleo was stumbling over her words in desperation. A sight that would’ve been embarrassing if someone else was there to see it.

“I promise I won’t hurt you,” 

Cleo decided not to dwell on the fact that she already had.

“I just want to see you again..”

She felt her voice trailing off.

“.. please.” 

Cleo let the silence hang in the air for a minute, trying to listen for anything around her beating heart. Then a pair of arms grabbed her from behind. Cleo screamed. 

Cleo was going to die. 

“Let go! Let me go! Get your hands off me!” She thrashed and yelled, doing everything she could to claw at the unseen attacker short of biting it, which she couldn’t do because of the cloth mask covering her mouth. A cold hand clasped itself over her mouth, muffling her protests and boy did she wish she could bite now. She gave up on words and continued to struggle, screaming wordlessly against the hand over her mouth. One of the arms let go of her and during the shift she managed to squirm out of the grip of her attacker, whirling around and pulling out her axe in one clumsy motion. Cleo was disoriented, trying to catch her breath against the mask that suddenly felt less like safety and more like death. 

She took a moment to analyze her opponent, who had pulled out an incredibly large knife and was holding it far more comfortably than she was holding her axe. Her opponent was tall and- infected?? 

Cleo was going to die. 

“You.. you’re human. You’re not infected… or are you?” The infected spoke to her. Cleo knew she wasn’t exactly in her best state of mind, but she was very sure that the infected were not supposed to do that. 

This thing was dangerous.

“Please, no, I’m not, I swear.” Cleo couldn’t keep the terror out of her voice. She could only hope that whatever was in front of her couldn’t pick up on her unbalanced stance or the shake in her shoulders. She couldn’t fight this thing and she couldn’t run either. The only exit to her knowledge was too hard to get to and out of with her attacker right there. Cleo shouldn’t have been so stupid. 

“I’m just looking for my sister.” Cleo hated feeling so out of control of these situations. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling though. 

“Your sister, is that Ellie?” The infected spoke up again. The curiosity seemed almost genuine, but Cleo couldn’t help but turn cold when something that dangerous mentioned her sister so casually.

“How did you know?” Cleo risked the question.

“I heard you as you were coming here.” Oh. Cleo felt so stupid. She shouldn’t have been yelling anyways. Now she was going to die.

So she chose to beg. 

“Look, I’m really sorry about this.” She tried to stand up taller, to take control of the situation while lowering her axe to hopefully not threaten the infected who she sure as hell was not going to fight. She swallowed her fear and continued. “I didn’t know anyone would be in here, I promise.” 

“Do you work for anyone? Are you part of any group or organization?”

Cleo would ask the same thing in all fairness, though she couldn’t help but take slight offense to the idea. She’d always hated those survivalist groups. They were dangerous. But maybe this thing was part of a group? Maybe it was trying to see if it could kill her without any consequences? Cleo choose her next words carefully.

“No… I only had my sister.” She admitted. Normally she wouldn’t mention Ella in this sort of situation, but the harm was already done. “But I lost her when a building collapsed while we were inside-“ Cleo explained her situation to the infected, who seemed pretty receptive and attentive. She’d never spoken her situation out loud before, and she could feel tears forming as she spoke. She forced them down. She could not appear weak here. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and she could feel herself becoming hazy again, mind disturbingly blank and senses dull given the situation she was in. She needed to escape. The infected spoke again, cutting through the fog.

“Listen, I’m not the only one here.” Cleo froze. Her brain kicked back into high gear as her eyes darted around the room, looking for any sign of a hidden accomplice. “I’ve been living with someone else of late, but they’re not here right now.” Cleo tried not to relax too much at that information. “For safety reasons, I’m going to keep you here until they come back.”

Cleo was going to die.

That statement was very clearly code for “I am actually part of a group and need a higher-up to decide what to do with you, probably kill you.” She would die if she stayed here, plus she might lose track of Ella. Though she honestly wasn’t so sure anymore if what she’d seen was Ella in the first place. She tried to plead again. 

“Wait, please.” She tried to keep herself calm, but she couldn’t breathe around that stupid mask. “I need to leave. I need to find my sister-“ 

The infected cut her off there, infuriatingly calm.

“I understand that, but I can’t let you leave without knowing what you’ll do after.” It spoke like it was explaining something to a cornered animal. Cleo sure felt like a cornered animal. Like one of those street cats that Ella used to feed. 

Cleo wasn’t going to win a fight in her state anyways. Her vision was blurry and her hearing was muddy. So she backed herself into a corner as far away from the infected as possible and sunk down to the floor, making herself as small as possible. The infected paid her no mind, staying in the room but pretty much ignoring her, eventually exiting the small room and shutting the door. Effectively blocking her exit.

Cleo didn’t know how much time passed like that, with her in a ball on the ground too terrified to even breathe or shift her weight as the infected shambled around in the other room. But eventually she heard the sound of footsteps above her. The infected sighed in relief(?) and Cleo made herself even smaller. Eventually there was the sound of a trapdoor opening and the infected started chatting with the new arrival. Cleo couldn’t even listen in properly, she felt like she was underwater. She couldn’t escape, and now she was out of time.

Cleo was going to die.

The door swung open and Cleo shot up, eyes widening as she got a good look at the people on the other side. Both of them were infected. Though the new infected seemed just as surprised to see Cleo. 

“What?! V, what’s going on?” The first infected’s name must be V. “Where did this girl come from?” 

Cleo could hear anger mixed into the new infected’s tone, causing her to flinch. She really was the higher up. This new infected would decide if Cleo lived or died.

Cleo was going to die.

“As far as I know, the outside. She came in through one of the windows, looking for her sister.” 

Cleo shouldn’t have. She should’ve known better. She knew better.

What happened next disturbed Cleo more than anything else could’ve.

“Her sister?” The infected looked at her curiously. “Did you lose your sister?”

The voice was softer than before. Cleo just nodded. It was the truth after all. 

“Oh that’s so terrible, I’m so sorry to hear that.” There it was again. The humanity. The genuineness. Cleo tried so hard to ignore that tone, those words. The infected walked into the room, sitting down next to her. The new infected appeared unarmed at the moment, and Cleo still had her axe which brought her some peace of mind. Though it wasn’t like she could make a move here as outnumbered as she was. 

Maybe it was a trick?

Cleo was so tired.

The infected turned its attention back to V. 

“What happened after she came in the window?”

“Well..” V seemed almost nervous. Actually it seemed incredibly nervous. “I didn’t know what to do, because I didn’t really know anything about her and what her plan was. So I waited in here until she walked past me, then I grabbed her from behind and-“

“Woah, what the hell?” The new infected interrupted. This sparked a quick argument between the two, until the infected decided that it could wait and be addressed later. 

Surprisingly, the infected turned its attention back to Cleo. She wished she could sink into the floor and disappear. 

“I’m sorry for what my friend did to you.”

What?

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

Cleo just blinked at the infected sitting next to her. 

“And we’re gonna help you find your sister.” Cleo was not happy with that proposal. 

“Woah, hey now.” And neither was V it seemed. “You’re not calling the shots here. Let’s at least talk about this.” 

“V, shut it. You don’t get a say in this after what you’ve done to this poor girl. Probably scared her out of her mind.” So this infected was the leader? Maybe they both ran a faction? But V had said that this new infected wasn’t calling the shots. Wait, Cleo couldn’t let them help her with this!

She didn’t want the help. She didn’t need the help. She wanted out.

She didn’t want to explain anything else to them.

She couldn’t explain.

“No. I can’t let you do that.” Cleo spoke up, cutting off the other two’s bickering. “I need to find her on my own.” I need to prove that I can fix this.

“What? Let us help you. It’s dangerous out there,” Cleo didn’t mention that these guys were the most immediate threat to her at the moment “you’ll be safer with us.”

“Please, just let me go.” Cleo staggered to her feet, before firmly declaring “I don’t need help.” She was exhausted. Then V spoke up again. 

“I hate to say it, but I’m with Jo on this one.” So the other one was named Jo. “We both struggled to live on our own.” Cleo wasn’t struggling. Cleo was alive. These guys weren’t. 

“I said no.” 

She knew she was in no place to be making demands. But she’d fight for this. She’d literally die on this hill. After a moment of silence, Jo started talking.

“Please, can you at least let us help you? We don’t have to help you find your sister, but it’s still dangerous out there. We have food and a place to stay.” 

Cleo thought about her coffin. She thought about the dwindling supplies in her storage. Things were harder to come by nowadays and she hadn’t been scavenging as much or as well as she should. Her current lifestyle.. wasn’t sustainable. At all. Besides, she was in no place to be making demands. If it got these guys to let her go, it sounded like a win for her. 

Plus, she had been lonely. 

Maybe these guys weren’t so bad.

“Yeah… that sounds nice.” She admitted, defeated. 

“Alright then.” Jo wasted no time. “What’s your name by the way? I don’t think we ever asked.”

Cleo debated giving a fake name for fun, but ultimately decided against it.

“It’s Cleo.”

“Well, come on then, Cleo. I imagine you’re probably not feeling too well. V can get you fixed up right away, maybe as an apology for what he did earlier.”

“Okay! Alright! I get it! Shouldn’t have done that…still don’t think it was completely unreasonable, though.”

[kunekojo]

NSFW Urahara Kisuke x Fem!Reader~Bad day

Warning: NSFW

Tags: fluffy, cockwarming (maybe), bite marks, praising, lots of praising and a little begging

WC: 1,855 k

•••

This day has been nothing but hell. All sorts of problems going on around the whole time, someone fighting someone else, the rain ruining your newest paper, being late to every single event, just pure shit. You never hoped for a calm day, but didn’t imagine things just wouldn’t go your way at all. God, at least you’re getting home after all this mess, hopefully being able to enjoy the rest of the night alongside your beloved Kisuke.

You’ve been texting him the entire time, telling him all about these tiny misfortunes you’ve struggled through and his words of encouragement kind of put you at ease.

“Something’s waiting at home for you.” The little text from him sparks a bit of interest in you, causing you to want to get home faster. Maybe there is hope.

You walk at a steady pace, eventually running as you’re approaching his home. Finally at the doorstep, you clench the doorknob, making your way inside and placing your shoes aside.

“Ahhh, Y/N-chan that was fast.” You hear him exclaim from the depth of his room, so he’s been preparing something.

“Given what a shit day this was? Yeah, I just wanted to get here as soon as possible.” You reply in a sarcastic tone, taking off your jacket.

Kisuke makes his way to you, almost appearing in your face in a matter of seconds. His quickness doesn’t surprise you. After all, you’ve been waiting all day long to finally see him.

Already dressed in his pajamas, he reaches to take your jacket from your hands. “Oh? Did you miss me this much?” He questions, lifting his eyebrows.

“This much doesn’t describe it enough, but sure.” A smile breaks on your face, automatically causing one to bloom on his too.

You don’t wait any more seconds and run in his arms, tightly embracing him between his arms. You need to feel his touch after everything that’s happened and he’s more than happy to offer you all the affection.

“I missed you a lot, Kisuke.” You mouth softly, burying your head in his chest.

“I missed you too.”

His hand reaches to place comforting pats on top of your head. “I can imagine, princess.” His deep tone sends warmth through you, helping you slowly relax. “But cheer up, I have the best solution to lift up your mood.” His loud exclamation startles you a little but it does its job.

Lifting your eyes, you glance at him curiously, remembering he did mention a surprise. “Go on.”

“Follow me.” He leads you to his room, taking your hand and holding it tight.

Upon entering, you stop for a second to observe what’s going on as Kisuke looks at you, then around, then at you again. You first notice the dim light covering the room followed by the coziest bed you’ve ever seen, filled with multiple pillows and fuzzy bed sheets. In front of it, a wide projection of what seems to be the beginning of a familiar movie. The more you try to analyze it, it clicks. It’s your favorite movie!

Surprised, you shift your head to look at him, a wide smile painted all over your face.

“Kisuke.” Your gasp melts his heart, he knew this would do the trick.

Rather pleased with the result, he stays quiet, motioning you to get in the bed so you can finally relax, and you do as he says. You jump head first, feeling the softness once your body makes contact.

“I should go look for my paja-“ you can’t even finish the sentebce that he cuts you off.

“Your pajama? It’s right here.” He takes a pair of comfortable pajamas out of his wardrobe, flashing them before your eyes before finally handing them to you.

You sit up on your butt, completely amazed that he thought of it before you. How sweet of him. He didn’t have to do this much but the gestures are greatly appreciated.

“Thank you, darling.” You take them, slowly changing right in front of him.

Once you’re finished, you lay down on the side closest to the project and in no seconds, Kisuke lays behind your back. He grabs the blanket and carefully wraps it around you both, making sure you won’t feel cold, then goes on to bind his arms around your waist.

You let a hum of delight escape your mouth, pushing yourself into him, just to feel his touch as much as possible. Kisuke starts the movie, letting it run in the background as you both start slowly chatting about everything that’s been going on today.

Time flies away and you both barely pay any attention to the movie, but that’s fine, you don’t mind it. You just want to hear him talk for hours, even if it’s about things you can barely grasp.

At some point, both your focuses are snatched by a heated kiss in the movie. You both watch carefully as the characters molt into each other, one thing leading to another. The scenery makes you want to kiss him so bad but the position is too good to ruin so you wait there, watching intently the running of the heated kiss. There’s a warm feeling building deep inside your downwards and Kisuke’s sudden silence isn’t making it any better. What if you push yourself a little more? You ask yourself, and with no hesitation you begin jerking your body closer to his, slowly shaking your ass with each centimeter.

You feel his stiff member throb as soon as you hit his lower, sending a wave of need through your body. There’s a faint gasp from you and he notices it by shoving himself much closer to you. His hands wander around your body, giving your muscles gentle massages, slowly tracing to beneath your shirt. Feeling his touch inches away from your breast, you turn a little on your back, urging him by giving him a little more space to work on.

Kisuke chuckles quietly as his digits draw near your nipples, placing soft touches around your sensitivity. In reply, you rub your ass against his cock, searching for some more friction from him. He responds by bucking himself into you with a steady pace, but it’s still not enough. You deeply hope it won’t take too long for him to play around your body some more, maybe take it to the next level.

Your folds clench so much that you swear your pants are horribly soaked at this point, but when you feel him take his hand away, you know what’s coming.

Reaching for his pants, you feel the vibrations of him taking them off, then placing his hand to lower yours too. You squirm at his touch, whimpering a little.

“Shhh, don’t pay attention to me. Keep watching the movie, doll.” He whispers against your ear, placing soft kisses around your neck. His gaze is still fixed on the movie, observing closely what’s going on.

How can you even watch the movie when you’re so heated up by him? But once you turn your focus to the projection, you can see the characters in a similar position. You get it now, maybe this has been all planned. Despite how hard focusing on something else in this moment is, you do your best and watch.

Everything that’s being done, Kisuke does it too, following every single move at that exact second. Brushing your breasts one more time, placing hot, warm kisses against your neck and grunting in your ears. How can he even restrain yourself from straight going into you?

Suddenly, you feel the sensation of his tip rubbing against your ass, teasing your folds.

“Kisuke.” You moan faintly, gripping the sheet.

“My, my, I’m not even inside and I can already tell how wet you are.” He kisses at your shoulders, placing tiny bites on your skin, just the way you like it.

“Please, go inside.” You push back but it’s not far enough.

“What’s that? What do you want?”

“I want you to go inside already.” You cry out, a little too desperate for more.

“But you’re not warm enough, princess.” He pinches one of your nipples between his fingers. “I need you warmer than this, so I can fuck you better.”

“Then make me warmer, do it.” You urge him, revealing the favorite area of your neck, one that always gets you screaming his name for hours.

He glances at your soft skin before burying his head back inside your neck, biting generously. You feel your insides clench harder than before and the boiling sensation is too much for you.

Moans leaving your mouth one after the other, you hear his guttural grunts in your ear, sending shivers of lust down your body. Your body begins trembling with how overstimulated you are, begging for the final piece of the puzzle.

Convinced he’s toyed with you enough, he halts from tasting your sweetness, and finally aligns his tip at your entrance. One deep stroke is all you need to wail with pure pleasure, shoving yourself into him in rhythm.

“No, no, my angel. Let me do the work, you pay attention to the movie.” He places his free hand around your neck, holding the line of your chin just so he makes sure you’re enjoying both things at once.

His thrusts are slow but deep, keeping it at a slow pace as he brushes against your clenching walls with calculated motions. He holds you tightly, but not rough enough for you to feel any discomfort. You try to watch the rest of the scene, but your constant loud sounds are making him slip every few seconds, twitching inside you with every noise.

You can’t help not moan his name over and over again with each thrust against the perfect place, and it has an effect on him. His gruntings accompanied by the rising speed of his buckles inside you make you whimper through ragged breaths, panting for more air.

“My pretty girl.” You hear him whisper. “Feeling so, so good. Let me take care of you like this for hours.”

With each push, you feel your orgasm coming closer and moan more frantically than before. He picks at your hints, moving steadily.

“Give me your juices, love. Will you be a good girl and give them to me? Cum on me.” God, the scent of his grunted praising makes you get so so close.

“Fuck, Kisuke.” You let out a sharp weep before finally releasing yourself.

He holds you good while you tremble in his arms, giving you a few more strokes as you’re riding your orgasm. You toss your head back from all the blood rushing through your body, the incoming noises causing him to not last much longer than you.

You feel his warm seed cover every single corner of your insides as you both moan together, silencing the movie. The exhaustion causes you to be unable to move, but when he places kisses all over your body you freshen up a little.

“There’s not much longer until the movie is done. I’ll clean you afterwards, okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

[munsonsgirl71]

Hey love, hope you're doing alright! Could you maybe write Eddie comforting anxious reader? Sometimes my anxiety makes me over analyze interactions and I'll complete spiral thinking that person is mad/hates me and I'llsob, so maybe like reader and Eddie having been dating for long and she over analyzes some little thing and he eventually finds out she thinks he's mad at her or something??

Hope this is okay, thank you! 💕

A/N: So this is short but it's fluffy and sweet, obvs... it's me! Thank you so much for sending this in! This request was perfectly crafted with just enough detail but not too much. I loved writing this!

Anxious - Eddie Munson x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of smut, Eddie being stupid, fluff, fluff and more fluff. Maybe a tiny big of angst if you close one eye and squint the other.

“Baby, stop.” Eddie smiled softly as he reached over and placed his hand on yours, gently tugging it away from where it had been kneading into his thigh. “I need to finish this, okay? And then I'll be all yours.” 

“Okay.” You shrugged as you leaned back into the arm of the sofa and turned your attention back to the slasher flick you hadn't really cared to watch in the first place. “I love you.” 

“Mmhmm.” He nodded as he continued to scribble into his campaign notebook perched on his knee. “Love you.” 

He doesn’t. He hates you. 

That tiny little voice in the back of your mind spoke up again and your heart dropped into your toes. You’d been doing so well. Taking him at his word and not letting the anxiety get the better of you but today had just been a day. You had felt the inklings of that stomach churning feeling the second you woke up without Eddie’s arms wrapped around you. 

He was on the other side of the bed, back to you with his arms shoved up underneath his pillow. There was no kiss when he woke up, he told you no when you asked if wanted to join you for a shower, he was quiet the whole way to drop you off at work. You kept telling yourself that maybe he was just having an off day, he had those occasionally, because everything had been great the night before. He had made you cum four times and you two had spent hours wrapped around each other; touching, kissing, licking every inch of skin you could get your hands on. 

But then he had been fifteen minutes late picking you up from work which was not normal, he barely even kissed you when you climbed into his van, and he headed straight for the shower as soon as he walked through the door. You sat on the edge of his bed and stared down at your shoes as you waited for him to come back. He rushed in throwing on clothes before grabbing his D&D stuff from the bed and heading to the living room throwing an ‘order us a pizza, yeah?’ over his shoulder as he went. 

He’s mad at you. Look at what you did. 

What had you done? Did you say something to piss him off and you don’t remember? Did you leave a mug in the sink or your makeup all over the bathroom? You slid off the couch and padded softly through the living room and down the short hall to the bathroom. Nothing was out of place. All of your make up was neatly packed away in your bag, your toothbrush was exactly where it belonged, no toothpaste in the sink. It was spotless. 

“Hey, pretty.” He smiled as he stepped into the doorway and leaned against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “Whatcha doin’ in here?” 

“Just makin’ sure it’s clean.” You shrugged as you ran the tip of your index finger along the rim of the sink. 

“You don't have to keep picking up after Wayne. He’s a grown man, he can clean up his own messes.” He sighed, a playful little sound but it was the straw that broke the camel's back. Your heart twisted and tears sprung to your eyes as you turned away from him and wrapped your arms tight around your middle. “Baby?” 

“Go away, Eddie.” You sniffled as you shuffled over and flopped down onto the closed lid of the toilet. He was on you before you could blink, grabbing your face in his hands and looking over every inch of you with his sweet brown eyes. “Stop it.” 

“Sweetheart, what the hell just happened?” 

“Why are you mad at me?” He had your cheeks squished just slightly in his hands so your words were just a little garbled but his eyes went wide as they hit his ears. “What did I do?” 

“You didn't do anything!” He stressed as his arms slipped around your neck and pulled you into his bare chest. “I'm not mad at you. I could never be mad at you. Why would you think that?” 

“Lots of little things.” You sniffled again as you allowed yourself to melt into his warmth just a little bit. “You’ve been… weird all day.” 

“Weird?” He asked as he pulled back just enough to look down at you. “What do you mean?” 

“You weren’t holding me when I woke up and then you didn't kiss me.” You pushed him away as you looked down at your lap, his hands falling to your knees. “And then you made me shower alone. You were late picking me up and you’ve been ignoring me since I got in the car.” 

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry!” He was practically yelling as he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close into his chest. “I’m not mad at you, I promise. I woke up last night sweating my ass off and felt this like scratchy feeling in my throat. I think I’m getting that cold Henderson had last week and I didn’t want to get you sick.” 

“What?” You blinked back to the tears resting on your lashes as your eyes went wide. “You’re sick?” 

“Not yet, not really, but I know it’s coming.” He nodded slowly as he smoothed your hair down and peppered kisses to the top of your head. “I am so sorry that you thought I was mad at you. I was just trying to put a little space between us so you didn't get sick too.” 

“Okay well next time can you give a girl a heads up?” You mumbled against his chest before you pushed back and gave him a wide eyed, pleading look. 

“I honestly thought I did and I am so sorry that I didn’t.” He nodded slowly. “You let those intrusive thoughts get to you, huh? Anxiety flared up?” 

”Yeah.” You giggled as you looked down to where his hands were now running up and down your thighs. “I’m sor…” 

“Don’t even try to say you’re sorry to me. I won't have it.” 

“Can I have some cuddles now?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes with your bottom lip poked out into a pout for good measure. “I’ll be the big spoon so you can blow your germy breath the other way…” 

“Can’t.” He grimaced and your eyes went wide. “Gotta finish my campaign.” 

“EDDIE!” 

“I’m kidding!” He cackled as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hauled you up, making you squeal as you wrapped your legs around his hips. “I love you, silly girl, you know that?”  

“Yeah, I know.” You breathed a sigh of relief as you both pressed soft kisses into each other’s necks at the same time. “I love you, too, asshole.”