#no he's not sorry

[dhampiravidi]

[WAIST] - sender rests a hand against receiver's waist. (Ronnie to Jas~ xD)

He knew the moment his strike made contact that something was wrong.

Usually, Jas was like a snake when they sparred. She waited for an opening before she lashed out, and whether she was protecting her core or actively defending herself from him, she snapped back into her stance. But that particular time, Ronnie hit her and she just crumbled. There was absolutely no resistance on her part--she whimpered, her stance got weak, and it took her a long second before she could face him properly.

"Jas--"

"What?" Immediate anger. That had been common on his part and hers when they started their "arrangement". That, and the frequent smart-ass comment that grew more frequent and less biting the longer they spent together. Her dark green irises were hard as she glared at him. "Again."

He rolled his eyes, then came at her again. For a minute, they were evenly matched. They usually were. And then she lashed out with her foot, trying to hook it around his side so she could pull him down. He stayed firm and used her momentum to throw her down. She landed on the same shoulder he'd hit not long before, and sobbed. Of course, her version of a sob was bared teeth, a clenched jaw, and a noise that came from deep inside...but he had seen her hurt before. They'd treated each other's bullet wounds, bruises, and cuts.

"Jas," he repeated, sitting by her side, "What the fuck is going on?" The two of them had a silent conversation. She was defensive, he wasn't taking her shit.

"...shoulder."

"I noticed. C'mon, sit up." Jas did, and Ronnie noticed that she put almost all her weight on one side. Not good. "Is 'arms up' too much to ask?" He kept his tone calm. Too gentle and she'd get mad that he was babying her. He helped her take the shirt (which was actually his, but she'd cinched it with a band to make it fight-ready) off. They had to just pull it around and down to get it off her injured arm, because she couldn't move like he needed her to. "Fuck."

Her entire shoulder was mottled with purple and brown bruises, almost like a perfectly good piece of fruit that had been left to rot. He barely touched the skin and she hissed in pain.

"How long?"

"Four days ago. Had to jump out a four-story."

Idiot, you could've died.

Ronnie ran his hand over his face, feeling all the healed gashes on his back tingle. That had been a recurring thought of his, back when he was in the SEALS with Nat, and then later when they were part of Orion. It disappeared sometime after Ronnie realized that his team was not coming back for him. Now it was echoing in his head, as he realized that Jas must've gotten beat up on the last mission she went on before they rendezvoused at their current location.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" He moved to her healthier side and picked her up, setting her on the bed. "Five seconds. Count 'em." She did, and on the third, he was pressing against the bruised skin, and she was screaming. He kept his eyes off of hers as he got to work--if he did otherwise, he wouldn't be able to help her. It looked to him like she'd just dislocated her shoulder, which was a lot better than breaking it. "You're bein' real quiet."

There was quiet for the next ten minutes, Jas's scream being the exception. Ronnie went and got her a bag of ice, plus a sling.

"...thank you," Jas muttered. He finally looked her in the eye.

"Yeah, no problem."

Not much later, the idiot went to the store by herself, when he was in the shower. He offered to help her wash off, and she nearly hissed at him. When he got out of the bathroom, she was gone. She was back less than 30 minutes later, but that wasn't reassuring.

She cooked. Neither of them cooked much, because cooking typically involves kitchen appliances, and it wasn't practical for the two to be hauling around or keep buying new appliances. If they ever quit...maybe things would be different.

"Fuck, that smells good..." It honestly did. Ronnie smelled the cinnamon from the other side of the apartment, along with some pepper, garlic, and some other spices he couldn't identify. He tried to go over and see what Jas was making, but--

"I can throw a knife with either hand." She could, so he went back to what he'd been doing, and minded his business until she told him to come get his food.

"Wow..."

"Biryani with prawns. There's an Indian store a few blocks down." Her lips opened, then closed, debating words. "My mom used to make this." Hell.

They ate and got seconds. They cleaned up the kitchen, though there wasn't much to do. They both brushed their teeth, and once they flopped onto the bed to just be, he moved between her legs and told her to lift. He had her cumming on his tongue in all of two minutes, which she blamed on him being gone for so long.

"So what was--nnh--the plan if I, shit, Jas--was late?"

"You weren't gonna be late. Are you going to cum?"

"Fuck you," he groaned, grabbing her hips so he'd--

"Oh, eww, Ronnie, y'--" He loved when he pissed her off enough to rant (or moan) in Gaelige. It was kind of violently cute, just like her.

[razzafrazzle]

Just Checking In! (aka Something About Red Triangles)

[dsmsix]

thought I was muted and just had this exchange with a coworker on a zoom call

[a-drama-addict]

not caring too much about a fandom’s favourite guy is the worst. you’ll think “oh i’ll look into the tag see if anything new and cool’s there” and it’s just that fucking guy again

[allagashed]

whenever i say “screaming crying throwing up” this is what i mean

[bakedbeanchan]

random fire nation diplomat #492 will never understand the complex and fucked up relationship between the water siblings like I do 🙄

[daftmooncretin]

spock’s room decor is actually fucking bonkers. The weapons??? the big red velvet curtain??? like ok phantom of the opera go crazy.

for reference jim’s room has some photos and a plant so we can surmise this is uniquely a spock being a dramatic weirdo thing

[paintedcrows]

Revelations - Little peek at a longer continuation to my Stan & Bill accidental internet buddies comic!

After the reveal, Stan initially doesn't want to tell Ford his (former) internet best friend was Bill Cipher, because he doesn't want him to worry. Stan later doesn't want to tell Ford because he (and Bill) would rather die.

[kiryuing]

[noodles-and-tea]

I don’t know if it’s just because of Alex’s personal voice quirks or whatever but Bill and Stan talk in quite a similar manner and my personal head canon is that Bill does it on purpose to mess with Ford :(

[jakemoogle]

This has to be the funniest and my favourite community note thus far on this stupid app

[seagiri]

when did this happen???

[hinamie]

to moving forward

[artsymeeshee]

Don’t know why I wanted to draw this dumb, silly idea but here we are lol

[fallen-goldfishcracker]

Wyll is so fucking funny and no amount of acknowledgement about this could ever be enough. He's literally walking around being so casually hilarious completely under-the-radar. He calls Halsin a "thick hunk of an elf". He once accidently implied that he was fucking an ogre instead of killing it and then proceeded to absolutely stumble his way through explaining. He gets excited by Lae'zel talking about carnal pleasures. He canonically tells his pessimistic thoughts to shut the hell up. He volunteers to babysit Shadowheart's hypothetical werewolf babies as long as she gets him gloves. He tries to give Gale a hero moniker like his own. He jokes that his father, the Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate, can't spell. He calls Astarion "Mister Fangs". He makes up storybook chapter names for his own fucking adventures. As a child he got chased by the Flaming Fist for stealing fruit, nearly drowned trying to find mermaids in the harbor, and almost successfully broke into the Counting House. He reads monster erotica, and is not ashamed to tell you about it. He ranks eating pudding among life's greatest moments. He will, without shame and completely unprompted, meow at you. He is 24 years old.

[lesbian-disaster-academic]

i used to be so good at writing strong, thoroughly-researched, thoroughly-edited essays.

as a kid in hs, my teacher literally came up to me, holding my 40 page essay on the intersection of the European witch hunts and capitalism/exploitation/gender roles (it was supposed to be 7 pages...whoops) and went like "this is literally a master's-degree level thesis. what are you doing?? you could literally use this as your final dissertation in a master's program, what the fuck."

NOW??? NOW?? you'd think I'd be oh so skilled. but alas. i can barely piece together two ideas. adhd skill-regression is so so real. im SOBBING