#posting this now while i have a free moment~

[rafesbabygirlx]

Time Alone - Drew x GF!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: you and Drew have crazy work schedules. Finally having time off work you go and spend it with him in South Carolina when he films. Even being there with him it’s hard to find time alone, until it isn’t.

A/N: wrote this on my phone so my theme is not present here. Just too good not to post. Also not really proofread since it was done on my phone and I hate google docs on my phone.

Warnings: SMUT - car sex, oral, riding

Inspired by @rafescokewhore anons finding his Apple Music playlists. Been thinking about this for a while. 🤭

You and Drew drive home from set, the cool evening air filling the car as the hum of the engine fades into the background. You’re visiting him for a couple of weeks while he’s filming, but this is the first real alone time you’ve had since you arrived. He’s been either on set or surrounded by the cast at the apartments, and by the time you both make it to bed, you’re usually too tired to even talk.

The car ride is mostly silent, the two of you holding hands as one of his playlists plays in the background. There’s a comfortable intimacy in the quiet, a kind of connection that doesn’t need words.

When he pulls into his spot in the dark parking lot, the air between you shifts. He turns off the car, the music still playing, and looks at you with an expression that sends a flutter through your stomach.

“Pull down your shorts,” he says, his tone casual but firm.

You blink at him, startled. “Huh?”

Before you can fully process what’s happening, he’s already reaching over, his fingers deftly working at the button of your shorts. His determined expression makes you burst into giggles, but the sound catches in your throat as he tugs your shorts and underwear down in one swift motion, tossing them into the back seat.

Your body shifts instinctively, pressing your back against the passenger-side door as Drew adjusts himself. He kneels in the driver’s seat, gently lifting one of your legs to drape over the backrest and he pulls you up so your ass is on the center console.

His movements are unhurried but purposeful. His lips brush your inner thigh, trailing heat in their wake before his mouth descends. The first flick of his tongue against your clit sends a jolt through you, a loud moan escaping your lips.

Without breaking rhythm, his free hand reaches for the volume knob, turning up the music to drown out your sounds, just in case anyone happens to pass by. “Those sounds are just for me.” He looks up at you eyes full of lust.

He’s relentless, his tongue and fingers working together as if he’s savoring every reaction he draws from you. His mouth moves with a feverish intensity, exploring every inch of you as your body arches against the door, lost in the moment.

Your moans grow louder as Drew’s movements intensify. His tongue circles your entrance before trailing back to your clit, sending waves of heat through your body. His fingers slide inside you with an almost teasing slowness, curling just right to make you gasp. You can’t help but thread your fingers into his scalp, gripping tightly, nails digging to his head as his mouth continues its work.

“Drew,” you whisper, your voice shaky, barely audible over the music.

He glances up at you, his eyes dark with focus, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, the look in your eyes seems to spur him on, his movements becoming more deliberate, more consuming.

The windows are fogged now, the small car feeling like its own secret world. The outside doesn’t matter—just Drew, the music, and the intoxicating pull of the moment.

Your chest rises and falls quickly, sending out shallow gasps as Drew’s tongue works hard against you. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue in maddening circles. His fingers curl inside you, pressing against that perfect spot that makes your back arch and your moans uncontrollable.

Your hips move instinctively against him, chasing the building pressure. He adjusts slightly, his other hand gripping your thigh to keep you steady as his tongue moves with maddening precision. The pleasure swells, consuming you until all you can do is hold onto him, gasping his name as your body trembles.

“Fuck, Drew,” you whimper, your fingers r moving around his head as your hips continue to buck against his mouth.

He lets out a low growl of approval, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through you. His grip on your thigh tightens, holding you in place as he devours you like he’s starving.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs against you, his voice muffled but rough with hunger. He dips his tongue inside you, his nose brushing against your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out.

The car is sweltering now, the heat inside making you forget it’s winter, but neither of you care. The world outside feels miles away—right now, it’s just you, Drew, and the overwhelming heat pooling in your core.

He pulls back slightly, his lips glistening, and looks up at you with that wicked smirk you know too well. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?”

You nod frantically, barely able to form words as he slides his fingers back inside you, curling them just right. His mouth finds your clit again, sucking hard, and your whole body tenses as the pressure inside you builds to a breaking point.

“Come on, baby,” he urges, his voice dark and commanding. “I want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.”

The sound of his voice, the filthy promise in his words, sends you over the edge. Your body shakes as the orgasm crashes through you, your cries spilling out uncontrollably. Drew doesn’t let up, his mouth and fingers working you through every wave of pleasure until you’re left trembling, completely spent.

He finally pulls back, his lips slick and swollen, and sits back in the driver’s seat, his chest rising and falling as he watches you. “God, you’re fucking beautiful when you come,” he says, his voice thick with lust.

You’re still catching your breath, your body slumped against the door, when you notice the bulge in his pants. He follows your gaze, smirking as he adjusts himself.

“You think I’m just letting it end there?” he asks, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free himself.

Your eyes widen slightly, heat rushing back through your body as he strokes himself slowly, his gaze locked on you.

“Come here,” he commands, his voice low and dripping with need.

You crawl over the center console, straddling him as his hands find your hips, guiding you down onto him. The stretch is perfect, and you let out a soft moan as he fills you completely.

“That’s it,” he groans, his hands gripping you tightly. “Ride me, baby.”

You move slowly at first, your bodies pressed together in the cramped space of the car. His mouth finds yours, the kiss hot and messy, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. His hands guide your hips, urging you to go faster, harder, until the sound of skin against skin fills the car, mixing with your moans and the bass of the music still playing in the background.

Every thrust hits deep, and you’re both lost in the heat of it, your bodies moving together in perfect rhythm. The car rocks slightly with your movements, the world outside completely forgotten as you chase another high together.

“Fuck,” he groans against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. “You’re so tight, so fucking perfect.”

His words send you spiraling closer to the edge again, and as his hand slips between your bodies to rub your clit, it’s all too much. Your second orgasm hits you even harder than the first, your body clenching around him as he thrusts up into you, his own release following soon after.

You collapse against his chest, both of you panting and spent, the air in the car thick with heat and filled with the scent of sex. His fingers trail lazily along your spine as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. He reaches over and turns down his music that was just blasting.

“Now that,” he murmurs, his voice still breathless, “is how you make the most of alone time.”

You laugh weakly, shaking your head as you pull back to look at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love it,” he replies, his grin smug and entirely unapologetic.

[mixupmycota]

I think also though like most things with this fucking guy it's got a flipside to it because he's never just one thing as much as he wants too be

I think he's genuinely lonely. I think, while it's still more about him than Cole, he does have genuine concern that if Cole stays in the state he is when it gets to the breaking point, he will be exploited, bound, and similarly achingly lonely - outcast to both spirit and mortal. Something something metaphor for neurodivergence in a writing team that has a lot of neurodiverse voices and in a franchise that is obsessed with masks and masking, literal and otherwise, and that keeps building in lore around the exploitation and abuse of neurodiverse populations, including and especially in institutionalized settings.

Thinking about how the original mortal Cole, in one banter, is revealed to have been made Tranquil and the hell he went through while in one such setting. I think Solas genuinely worries about that being Cole's fate! There is compassion in Solas, there is tenderness in him, but he is very selective where he allows it to show and he does like fifteen cognitive backflips to avoid extending it to himself, which further entrenches his patterns of self-isolation and reinforces that he IS alone, that he WILL die alone, that nobody can truly relate to him.

Which I think is a reason he wipes Cole's memories. Per the wiki:

"(Solas speaking through Cole) I'm sorry, Cole, but with your gift, I fear you might see the path that I must now walk in solitude forever. This fate is mine alone. Indeed, I would not wish it on an enemy, much less someone that I once cared for. Though you reach out in compassion, I must now insist that you forget. (Cole now speaks) I'm... what were we talking about? I'm ready to help people when you are."

Triggered when approaching Cole at Skyhold after the end of the game."

I think this also is not about Cole, not really, not totally. I believe he believes what he is saying here, his own justification for taking Cole's memory away. But he can't imagine another path that Cole might take. He can only operate on the assumption that Cole will follow in his footsteps.

"that i once cared for"

This guy is doing his best to sever his earthly and otherwise attachments as much as possible so he can remain in his state of cultivated solitude, which he hates, that makes him miserable, that he is TERRIFIED of because if anyone walks with him it might happen again. He might falter, and consider changing his mind. The allure of setting down the burden he has taken on, of just living as himself, is overwhelming and horrifyingly terrible to him, I think.

His gift for snatching defeat from the jaws of victory on this is truly impressive. I am shaking him back and forth while he's all limp at maximum speed, because unlike many people in Thedas, Solas has people actively reaching for him. Actively trying to help him.

He is alone because he decides to be. He decides to be because he feels like it's dangerous if he isn't. It's dangerous if he isn't, because it would mean he isn't alone. If he isn't alone, that means he can stop. If he stops, it was all for nothing.

Which, on that. God sorry for the massive off the cuff post added on here I'm very self-conscious and feel free to ignore me but.

The emotional journey Solas goes through in the like 0.5 seconds after he turns around and sees Varric there before he shuts the fuck down is really compelling to me to think about in the context of all of this, and also in the context of the mythic, cyclic narrative of his own life and trauma and atrocities that the confrontation is re-enacting.

Varric is there. Who calls him Chuckles. Varric, who no matter how Cole's quest goes ultimately, had a major impact on that spirit of Compassion, challenged Cole to consider new ways of thinking.

I think a lot at the moment about how Solas read Varric's books - seemingly repeatedly and somewhat obsessively considering he takes at least one with him in Trespasser.

Cole talks about Varric's writing gathering the attention of spirits, about it making things real. I think about Solas telling Varric that "this story does not end with my downfall."

In saying that it's like he's asserting his own reality again in the same way he seems too in the conversations in Inquisition about Cole. He shuts down the possibility of this being anything other than a confrontation, a threat, when he speaks the words "my downfall".

Referring back to another banter with Cole:

"Cole: How do you make them calm?

Varric: Who, Kid?

Cole: Everyone. You talk and the fear fades, slipping to sleep. Not always happy, but not angry.

Varric: Most people are like cats. They either puff up to look dangerous or they crouch down and hope you don't see them. You show them you're not a victim or threat, and they're in your lap and purring before you know it.

Cole: Cats swat my feet even when no one can see me.

Varric: That explains a lot."

Solas has to do this, because otherwise he knows full well that Varric could have an effect on him, because he's done it before. But he can't permit that, because of all of the above. He literally twists the narrative when he says that, and brings it into alignment with his own belief of how the world should be.

Which is making me think things about the Fade but I won't add that onto this post which is already too much as it is.

SORRY I TALKED SO MUCH I DONT EVEN KNOW IF THIS IS COHERENT but i've been turning all of this over a lot today. Solas is consistently inconsistent in a way I find extremely compelling to chew on.

Does anyone ever think how in Inquisition Solas was probably, to some extent, envious of Cole’s journey from a spirit to a person? Of how that would explain why he was holding so viciously to his approach against Varric’s?

Because Cole wants to be a person. By contrast to Solas, no one begged Cole to leave his spirit nature behind against his own wishes;

Cole didn’t kill/mutilate anyone to gain a corporeal form either. More like he took on and continued a life that had already ended.

Does anyone ever think that Solas is unable to accept that Cole can become a person because that would mean he’d also have to confront the fact that his own actions (him and ‘his people’ gaining a body at the expense of Titans) were unjustifiable anymore?

Because... there could be another way, that’s not his, and because he could be wrong. I bet that would terrify any ancient being who’s been struggling with doing the right thing for centuries.

Or who knows, maybe I’m just rambling. Something, something I think we need to talk more about the implications of Cole becoming a person and Varric’s role in it. That quest certainly lands so differently after Veilguard.

[bubblesgarden]

always you — john b x reader

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summary: you and john b have been friends for years, but when kiara carrera comes along, things become different.

author's note: hi guys ! this is my very first piece of work i've posted here and i really hope you enjoy it ♡ if you did, please consider giving this a like, reblog, or comment ! feel free to give me a follow if you'd like to see more ♡

you were just eight years old when you first met john b. he had scraped knees and an untamed mop of hair, but his smile was infectious— like how the sun shone through your curtains on a summer morning, or when you listened to a song for the first time and would have it on repeat constantly. and before you knew it, you were spending every single day together. the two of you inseparable, running wild, dreaming up adventures, and sharing secrets that you swore would never leave the walls of the chateau.

for years, it was you and him— two kids hand in hand, against the world. at least, it felt that way.

but then kiara carrera came along. she was cool, easy going, and fit into the group so effortlessly that you couldn’t really blame john b for wanting to hang out with her. at first, it didn’t bother you— after all, kie was great. but slowly, you noticed the dynamic start to shift.

the days where it was just you and john b became fewer and farther between. instead of running off to hide up in the treehouse in your backyard for hours, or lay smushed up together on the hammock at the chateau while you stared at the stars to talk about everything and nothing, he was suddenly too busy. too preoccupied. with kiara. 

at first, you tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter. john b was allowed to have other friends. but as days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, the sting of being phased out by your best friend since childhood was too much to ignore.

one night, after another gathering around a fire where you felt like a shadow in your own group; constantly being talked over or ignored completely, you decided you’d had enough.

you didn’t exactly know what you were going to say— there were too many things running through your mind that you were positive it was all going to turn into a bunch of word vomit when you’d eventually face him. or you’d end up freezing. there was no in between unfortunately. 

so when you finally approached the chateau, you found john b sitting on the porch, sipping on a beer as he gazed out at the stars. the glow of the moonlight highlighted the familiar curve of his jaw, and those messy curls you had ruffled a thousand times before.

“can we talk?” you ask, skipping the introductions and small talk. that would just make this worse, you thought. you stepped up onto the creaky wood, arms crossed over your chest, almost in a way to hold yourself together. 

he turned to you, surprised. almost like he had forgotten you existed— surprised to see you here, where you had been day after day, and night after night, during your years of being friends. it wasn’t unusual at all for you to show up unannounced, but right now, with that look on his face, apparently it was unusual. 

“yeah, of course,” he nodded, motioning for you to sit down on the tattered, old couch on the porch. sitting down beside him, you folded your arms around your knees. for a moment, the silence stretched between you, awkwardness and the sound of cicadas filling the void.

“what happened to us?” you broke the silence, voice barely above a whisper but still steady as you turn your head to look at him. he hadn’t changed much all these years— still had that stupid boyish charm that seemed to get him out of trouble, and those same, soft eyes. 

you felt him stiffen besides you, and you almost scoffed. “what do you mean?” he asks, his tone matching yours.

“you know what i mean,” you sigh, the hurt you’d been bottling up spilling into your words. “it used to be you and me. we spent every day together. and then all of a sudden kie came along, and it’s like… i don’t exist anymore.”

his brows furrowed, and you saw the guilt flash across his face. “that’s not true.” you could pinpoint his defensive tone from a mile away— the same tone he would use when he got in trouble for something he did do, but always tried to claim he didn’t. 

“isn’t it?” you laugh bitterly, shaking your head a little. “come on, john b. you barely talk to me anymore. if i didn’t come looking for you, i don’t even think you would have noticed i wasn’t around.”

“that’s not fair.”

“neither is feeling like i lost my best friend.”

the crack in your voice must’ve struck something inside him because you watched as his defences crumbled. he set his beer down, running a hand through his already messy curls as he sighed deeply.

“it wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he spoke, his voice quiet.

“then why was it?” you pressed, eyes still trained on him.

he hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting away before they finally met yours again. “because i screwed up.”

your brows furrowed, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he said quietly.

john b exhaled shakily. “i started… feeling things i wasn’t supposed to feel. about you. and i thought if i got closer to kie, it would— i don’t know, distract me or something. make it go away.” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “but it didn’t. it just made everything worse because i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, the weight of his confession settling over you like a blanket. “so, what? you just pushed me away instead of telling me the truth?”

“i didn’t want to ruin what we had.” his voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw the fear in his eyes. “you’re my best friend, and if you didn’t feel the same way— i can’t lose you, (y/n). i thought maybe if i kept my distance, it would hurt less.” 

you swallowed the lump in your throat, emotions churning in your stomach. anger, hurt, but underneath it all, a flicker of something you had buried a long time ago. 

“john b—”

“i’m sorry,” he cut you off, voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. i just— i didn’t know what else to do.”

you searched his face, the boy you’d known for many years looking at you like he was afraid you might disappear. that you might run away and never speak to him again. 

“you’re an idiot,” you laughed softly, shaking your head. 

he looked startled, blinking in confusion. “what?”

“all this time, you were scared of ruining our friendship, and you didn’t even think to ask how i felt.”

“how you felt?” he repeated, brow furrowing. the pure confusion over his features made you want to laugh, but instead you just rolled your eyes. 

“i liked you too, john b. i still do.”

his eyes widened slightly, hope flickering in them like the fireflies dancing in the yard. “you do?”

“yeah,” you admitted, your voice softening. “but you’re going to have to make up for being a complete idiot about it.”

a slow, disbelieving grin spread across his face. “i think i can manage that.” 

before you could get another word out, he leaned in, hand brushing against yours as he closed the distance. the kiss was tentative at first, a question in the way his lips moved against yours. but when you didn’t pull away, you felt as he deepened the kiss, like he was trying to make up for all that time he’d wasted worrying. 

when you finally broke apart, he let out a breathless chuckle, resting his forehead against yours. 

“i’m never phasing you out again,” he promised.

“oh so you were phasing me out?” you tease, resulting in several pokes to your side by the curly haired male in protest.

“okay— okay! but seriously. you better not,” you said, a small smile pulling at your lips.

and just like that, it was you and john b again. always had been. always would be.

[snowpetrichor]

Reunited at Last

I’ve written my own fanfics over the years, but I’ve never had the guts to post anything… I’ve finally decided to change that! This is a snippet from a DAV rewrite I'm working on. The scene is supposed to be in act 3 so I wouldn't have written it for a while, but I found myself daydreaming about it and I had to get it out of my system with a drabble.

I figured I’d take a chance and share it with my fellow solavellans. :)

Word count: 754

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Ellana reached out a hand to wipe away the tears that had already begun to fall down his cheeks. The caress was feather-light, but waves of emotion shone in her eyes, and Solas felt something in him snap. He surged forward to catch her waist and held onto her like a drowning man might grasp a buoy. The strength of his love for her always seemed to send him reeling. Ellana stiffened, a surprised noise escaping her, but soon enough her hand came to rest on the back of his head.

Even in their years apart, whenever he caught a hint of lavender on the wind or tasted honey on his tongue, he was reminded of the fragrance she wore – spring flowers distilled to a sugar-sweet perfume. The Dalish had to make do with the tidings that nature offered them, so Ellana had learned to craft the scent herself. It was soft and fresh and so unique to her. Now, that sweetness seemed as if it would overtake him. His world narrowed to her touch, her warmth, and her heartbeat. Solas twined his fingers with hers and quietly wept for all that they had endured.

From the outside, the whole thing would have looked rather awkward – even sitting on the bed, Solas was still much taller than his heart, and he bowed to hold her in his arms. But there was nobody there to judge, and he wouldn’t have cared much anyway. He whispered her name over and over, uttering endearments like a prayer.

Vhenan, my heart, my love.

Ellana, Ellana, Ellana.

Oh. He almost never used her given name. She had first been Inquisitor, later vhenan, but never Ellana. Its soft syllables had only fallen from his lips once, and that thought brought a rush of unbidden memories. On her knees in front of a mirror, his desperate eyes searching hers before that final goodbye. One last kiss to give her strength for the years to come. She strongly suspected that he lost himself to grief in those moments after he went through the eluvian, and it tortured her to know that he shouldered such a burden alone for so long. Ellana lowered herself to sit by his side, wrapping her arms around him as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. A moment passed in gentle silence.

“Ir abelas, vhenan,” he sighed. “Despite everything, that you still stand by my side is…” Solas trailed off, seemingly lost for words as his gaze grew downcast. Ellana pulled back to study him. She cupped his cheek in her palm, turning his face back towards her.

“Emma lath, you remember my promise, don’t you? Var lath vir suledin.” She tried for a smile even as her voice wobbled; she tasted the salt of her own tears on her lips and realized absently that she had started to cry.

“You are my home, Solas. You have been since the very first moment I met you.” Ellana guided his hand to her breast, holding it softly against her heart. “So long as my heart beats, I will stand by your side.”

His chest was tight with emotion. There was pain – the pain of realizing that he could have spent the last decade in her arms if he so chose, the pain of living with a lifetime of sins, and the pain that came as he acknowledged how alone he had truly been. But there was also love. So, so much love. He was finally free to live as himself – as Solas – and there were no words to express the torrent of feelings that danced within him. He wanted to weave stories in her ears and share the wisdom that he knew would enrapture her. He wanted to take her in his arms, tangling their forms together until time fell away. He wanted to bare himself to her, to show her his soul, his spirit, and witness hers in turn.

He wanted to give her the world, but the world was no longer his to give.

So instead, Solas pulled her down to lie by his side. They breathed together and wiped away each other’s tears. Ellana pressed her forehead to his and he weaved a hand into her hair, cradling each other as they let the tides of the Fade take them. There would be plenty of time for more passionate embraces down the line, but for now, it was enough for two tired souls to exist as one, reunited at last.

[cuntressgoingdigital]

RUNAWAY | abby anderson x reader

free palestine! click this link for more info

synopsis: you and abby are in a mutually destructive situationship. after everything you put each other through, you both always find you way back to one another.

notes: gonna be sooo honest, this isn't going to be everyone's cup of tea and that's okay! heed the content warnings. this is a super angsty catharsis piece.

cw: 18+ content MDNI, reader referred to as a girl, alcohol ment., top! abby, mutually toxic relationship, no happy ending, honestly neither of y'all are good people

word count: 1k

all you could do was sigh when you read the text that popped up on your phone. 

can i see you tn?

it was 2AM, you and your friends were on the way back home from the club. you had texted abby hours ago. you always did this after drinking. not because your judgment was impaired, instead you wanted to be able to blame your actions on the alcohol. you would’ve texted her completely sober. you often did. 

“what are you staring at on your phone?” your friend tried to snap you out of it, but nothing would stop you. your friends learned to stop trying.

the text interaction was instigated by you, around 8PM, after one sip of a cocktail your friend had made for you. 

fuck you abby

who is this new girl? 

what happened to all the shit you said last week?

she had posted a picture with some pretty redhead on her arm, her face buried in the crook of abby’s neck. she always did this. she knew it would make you mad.

and you always took the bait. 

now it was 3AM, your friends had left you for the night, and abby was knocking on your door. you had sobered up in the last hour or so. your mind was clear. all of your actions were your own. 

immediately abby leaned in for an embrace, prompting you to practically leap back. 

“who the fuck is she?” there was an undeniable venom in your voice. you didn’t have time for pleasantries. 

abby moved past you, crossing the threshold into your apartment. “she’s one of manny’s exes. we’re still cool so me and nora had dinner with her. that’s it.” 

cue the inevitable repetitive screaming match that you two would end up in once every few weeks. the walls were thin and you knew your neighbors could hear. luckily, they minded their business. 

“abby it’s like you don’t give a fuck about my feelings! all week you're texting me ‘i miss you’, ‘you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel this way’. what happened to that?”

you couldn’t ever stay mad at her. you used the same playbook she did. after a couple weeks of not talking, a post on social media would lure her back in. an “accidental”

i had so much fun with you last night <3

that was immediately unsent. it was a song and dance that both of you were perpetually stuck in. after this long, it felt like you couldn’t leave the dancefloor now. 

for the record, abby wasn’t lying. it was just dinner. nothing else. it was clear the girl wanted her. hugging her for just a moment too long, getting a little too handsy when they went to the club together, the frequent requests for one on one hangouts. 

abby wasn’t anywhere near interested. 

she didn’t want any of the girls she would entertain for a week, sometimes a month (never longer). she couldn’t fuck them without thinking of you. without missing you. one too many times when a girl was between her legs she had accidentally uttered your name. 

that’s why every argument resulted in the pure bliss of hate filled make up sex. whoever was on the receiving end of the accusations would placate the other with ‘they dont mean anything’, ‘i just miss you so fucking much’, ‘i wanna be with you’. 

that night when you’re face down in the mattress, back arched, her strap buried impossibly deep inside you, you forget everything. the reasons you hate her. why you would never work. she takes you by the chin and pulls you up, back flush against her chest, fucking up into you while she whispered in your ear.

“fuck, you look so good like that. my pretty girl.”

you would always be her’s.

“such a fucking slut. only running back to me when you need to be fucked back into your place, yeah?” she hoped that wasn’t true. she wants to hear you say that it isn’t true.

“i love you, abby.” was all you could manage to say between thrusts.

abby starts thrusting with a fervor. her hands were gripping your hips so tight you feared they might bruise. she knows your body so well that she can tell when you’re about to cum. you’d dig your nails into her arms, gasping for air, whimpering her name. 

“i love you too, baby girl.” 

that was all it took for the floodgates to open. 

neither of you had lied. you both loved each other more than anything in the world. you said it during arguments, over dinner, at the end of a phone call, and most often during sex. 

if it came down to it, you would die for one another. 

the orgasm was so intense it brought tears to your eyes. abby could fuck you for hours, and she often did, especially when you were mad at her. tonight was one of those nights. by the time the sun had fully risen in the sky you were both sweaty, sore, and exhausted. 

you spent the next few weeks together. she had a key to your apartment that you hadn’t taken back after any of your fallouts. after work, you would find her at home, making your favorites for dinner. she came and went as she pleased, but you knew she’d be back. such was the nature of your relationship. 

when it’s good, it’s amazing. when it’s bad, it’s miserable. the good never lasted long. your record best was a little more than two months. then, one of you would get antsy, terrified of the ‘what are we?’ conversation. 

after being away from each other, the monotony of peace set in. one of you would find a way to snake back in. 

you were mutually destroying each other. you knew that. abby knew that. a happy ending wasn’t likely for either of you. 

but, that was okay. 

she was familiar. this was easier. you had to leave or live with it. 

and here you were, laying in her arms, pressing kisses against her chest and collarbones, while she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. 

[genericpuff]

1. Have you read Circe by Madeline Miller + Song of Achilles ~ if you have what are your thoughts

2. In the original what was your favorite male character drawn out (mine was Hermes only bc I found him hot😓)

3. How long do you think it’ll take you to ‘finish’ your story, like do you have a set date: 2026,2027, even 2030🙈🙈

4. What’s your backstory on tattooing and art, was this your initial plan

5. Fave girl character, (mine is Minthe only bc she reminds me of my younger self since I seemed to only choose realtionships where I get here)

thank youuu

ahaha so many questions! I'll answer them as concisely as I can :>

1.) Song of Achilles is on my shelf, I've been meaning to read it all but I haven't been able to make time for it, I might try and do so before the new year! I've definitely heard great things :>

2.) Hephaestus! He gives me such older brother vibes, he just seems like a really chill and snuggly guy LOL Only complaint about his character design is the fact that he's constantly using running blades (sure they look cool but they're not practical for casual wear, you're supposed to use them for, y'know... running lmao) but that's really it, I think his arc with Aphrodite in S3 was poorly written tbh especially with how rushed it was, but overall not the worst treatment out of the cast.

3.) Definitely don't want it to take until 2030 LMAO It's gonna depend on a few variables, including update schedule (I'd really like to get back to posting once a week again like I used to but I don't think it's gonna be possible for a little while u.u""") and how long the final scripts come out to be. Ideally though I'd like it to be wrapped up within another year or two. This definitely isn't one of those "work on it indefinitely" type projects, I have an end goal in mind and I don't want it to take over half a decade like my last comic project did LOL

4.) Never expected to wind up making Rekindled or in tattooing. I'm kind of a "fall into it" type person, I do what feels right in the moment even if it's not what I initially planned for (within reason, of course! I've learned to sit on new ideas and plans for a bit before pursuing them to ensure I'm actually into them before diving in lol it helps me avoid the impulsive ADHD-fueled decisions 😆). I sort of had a plan for myself back in primary and high school - I wanted to become a video game concept artist, but over time as I got into making comics and after I graduated college, it just never really happened. It's never too late, of course, but right now I'm having a lot of fun tattooing and making comics in my free time ! I think I'd still be making comics even if I ended up in game dev, it satisfies my storytelling side haha

5.) If you mean specifically LO, yeah, Minthe here too. Which is wild because I remember when I was still a huge fan of the comic and was on the "fuck Minthe!" train. Now that I've explored the comic with a more critical eye, I sympathize with her way more and I really hope she had gotten a more satisfying conclusion. Still, she got away from Hades and Persephone's nonsense so that's better than nothing LMAO but I definitely want to explore her side more in Rekindled as the story unfolds, I have some fun plans for her <3

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between: Chapter 7

Other Chapters:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I

Chapter 6

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Glen is getting ready to head to Austin for some time with his family, but wants to spend one last evening with Gabby. They settle in at his place, ordering takeout, and cuddling up on the couch. Then he invites Gabby to spend the night, enjoying one last evening together.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Mentions of Alcohol, SMUT (Nudity, Missionary Position it's their first time...it may get more kinky later, I don't know yet. But there's nothing wrong with a little vanilla.)

A/N: So after the last chapter I've been writing this one basically non-stop. Normally I hit bumps along the way which is why it's usually 5-7 days between chapters. But I wrote this one in like two and didn't want to wait to post, so I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know your thoughts with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs!

Tag List: @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @teacupsandtopgun @loveatfirsttornado

The days following their first breakfast together settled into a comfortable rhythm, as though Glen and Gabby had been a part of each other’s lives for much longer than a few weeks. They fell into an easy balance of spending time together while keeping up with their individual responsibilities. Some nights were spent at Gabby’s cozy apartment, the two of them cooking simple meals side by side, the radio playing softly in the background as they laughed about Glen’s inability to chop onions without tearing up. Other nights were at Glen’s place, where they sprawled on his couch, eating takeout straight from the containers and watching movies they only half-paid attention to, too absorbed in their conversation to care about the plot.

When they weren’t together, they stayed in touch. Gabby found herself smiling at the occasional texts Glen sent throughout the day—sometimes a photo of his dog napping in a patch of sunlight, other times a joke or comment about the podcast recording he’d just finished. In return, she sent him snapshots of her coffee-fueled study sessions, complete with exaggerated captions about the “thrilling life of a student.” It wasn’t overbearing or constant, just enough to remind them both that the other was thinking of them.

Despite the ease of their time together, neither pushed to define what was happening between them. They hadn’t taken things public—Glen’s fame adding a layer of complexity neither of them was eager to rush into—but there was an unspoken understanding that, for now, they were simply enjoying the moments they had. Each interaction felt natural, like the slow unfolding of something neither of them had expected but both were beginning to treasure.

By the end of Glen’s first week off, the lines between his world and Gabby’s had started to blur in small, significant ways. It wasn’t just that his spare toothbrush had found a spot in her bathroom or that his favorite blanket had been claimed as hers during their movie nights. It was the way they talked, the way they moved around each other, the way they found themselves looking forward to the next time without ever having to say it.

The hum of Gabby’s car engine filled the silence as she pulled into her apartment parking lot, her mind still replaying the events of her busy day. She was already planning on collapsing onto the couch with a bowl of cereal when her phone buzzed on the passenger seat. Picking it up, she smiled as Glen’s name lit up the screen.

Glen: Hey, you free tonight?

The message was simple, but she could practically hear his voice in her head, that mix of charm and warmth that made her stomach flip every time. She bit her lip, typing out a quick reply.

Gabby: I think I can squeeze you into my schedule 😉

His response was almost instant.

Glen: Good, because I was hoping to steal you for the evening. Come over?

She laughed softly, the exhaustion from her day momentarily forgotten.

Gabby: What’s the occasion?

A few dots appeared on the screen as he typed.

Glen: You. Me. One last quiet night before I head to Austin. No agenda, just us.

Gabby’s heart fluttered at the sincerity in his words. It was rare for someone to make her feel this... wanted. Not in a grand, sweeping way, but in the quiet, meaningful moments that reminded her how much she liked having him in her life.

Gabby: I’m on my way.

Sliding her phone back into her bag, she took a deep breath and shifted the car back into drive. A quiet night with Glen sounded like exactly what she needed.

Gabby pulled up to Glen’s house, the low glow of the porch light illuminating the familiar front door. Her heart skipped a beat as she grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and made her way up the steps. Before she could even knock, the door swung open, and Brisket came barreling toward her, tail wagging furiously.

“Hey, buddy!” Gabby crouched down, laughing as the dog nudged his head against her hands, soaking up all the attention she was more than happy to give. “Were you waiting for me, huh? Such a good boy!”

Glen leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a teasing smirk on his face. “Nice to see you too, babe,” he drawled, feigning offense.

Gabby glanced up at him, still scratching behind Brisket’s ears, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.” She stood up, brushing her hands off on her jeans as she stepped closer to him.

Glen chuckled, shaking his head. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

Before he could say anything else, Gabby slipped her arms around his waist, tilting her head up to look at him. “Hi.”

His teasing expression softened as he leaned down, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “Hi,” he murmured back, his voice warm and low.

He dipped his head, their lips meeting in a slow, unhurried kiss, the kind that made the world outside his front door disappear. Brisket let out a little huff, circling at their feet as if to remind them he was still there. Gabby pulled back slightly, smiling against Glen’s lips.

“Looks like someone’s jealous,” she whispered.

Glen glanced down at the dog, who was now pawing at Gabby’s leg, clearly not done being the center of attention. 

“Can you blame him?” Glen asked, his lips quirking into a grin.

Gabby laughed, giving Brisket one last pat before Glen stepped aside to let her in. 

“Come on,” he said, resting a hand lightly on her back as they walked into the house. “I’ve got wine chilling and takeout on the way. Thought we could keep it low-key tonight.”

“Sounds perfect,” Gabby replied, feeling her shoulders relax as she slipped off her shoes.

The doorbell rang, cutting through their conversation. Brisket barked once, trotting toward the door, his tail wagging.

“That’ll be the food,” Glen said, brushing a hand against Gabby’s arm as he passed her.

He returned a moment later, balancing a stack of takeout containers in one hand while shutting the door with the other. Gabby watched as he brought the bags to the kitchen counter and began unpacking them, the familiar aroma of Thai food filling the room.

“What do I owe you?” she asked, stepping closer to the counter.

Glen glanced at her over his shoulder, his brows furrowing slightly as if the question surprised him. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Glen,” she said, folding her arms. “I mean it. I don’t want you—or me, for that matter—feeling like I’m taking advantage of you.”

He paused, turning to look at her fully. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve paid for everything so far,” she said, motioning to the takeout. “Dinner on our first date, every DoorDash order, everything. I don’t want it to seem like I’m just… letting you take care of everything.”

Glen leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms as he considered her words. “You buy groceries when we cook at your place,” he pointed out.

Gabby tilted her head, giving him a skeptical look.

“What?” Glen asked, smirking now.

“I’m serious,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you.”

His expression shifted, the teasing glint in his eyes softening. He stepped toward her, his hands settling lightly on her waist. 

“Gabby,” he said gently, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of her shirt. “I don’t think that at all. I wouldn’t have asked you over if I did.”

She let out a small sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly, but he wasn’t done. 

“Look,” he continued, “it’s still early, yeah. But these are our dates. I was raised that the guy is supposed to pay on the dates”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she raised a brow. “Supposed to?”

“Yup,” he said confidently, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.

“That’s such an old school thing.” She rolled her eyes, earning a low chuckle from him.

“Wait a second,” he said, his tone teasing as he tilted his head at her. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Gabby met his gaze, challenging. “What if I did?”

His grin widened, and without another word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to the curve of her neck. She gasped softly as his warm breath ghosted against her skin, his voice low as he murmured, “Then I might have to make you take it back.”

Her laugh turned into a quiet hum as his kisses deepened, his hands sliding to her lower back to pull her closer. She threaded her fingers into his hair, and before she could think, Glen’s hands lifted her onto the counter.

Glen’s lips moved against hers with a growing urgency, his hands steady on her hips as he pulled her closer to the edge of the counter. Gabby’s fingers slid into his hair, tugging lightly as her breath hitched.

“Glen,” she managed between kisses, her voice soft and a little breathless.

“Hmm?” he hummed against her lips, his hands trailing to her thighs.

“The food,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, though her hands didn’t leave his hair.

“What about it?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his forehead resting against hers as his hands tightened their hold on her.

“It’s going to get cold,” she pointed out, her tone half-hearted, as though she wasn’t entirely convinced it mattered.

Glen grinned, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth as he whispered, “I’m hungry for something else.”

Her laugh was soft and breathy, and she gave him a look that was equal parts amused and exasperated. “Glen,” she said again, her tone firmer this time, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

He groaned dramatically, letting his forehead drop to her shoulder as he sighed. 

“Fine,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to help her slide off the counter. “We can eat.”

Gabby smirked, smoothing her shirt as she stepped back toward the counter, her cheeks still flushed. “Thank you for your sacrifice.”

He shot her a playful glare as he grabbed the takeout containers, setting them on the counter with a bit more flair than necessary. 

“But just so we’re clear,” he said, his tone serious even as his lips quirked into a grin, “I’m coming back for dessert later.”

She didn’t respond, but the warmth in her smile and the quick glance she gave him said enough.

As they settled at the counter with their takeout containers spread out between them, the casual clinking of chopsticks and soft rustle of food filled the air. Glen cracked open the lid of his container and took a sniff. "Okay, this might be the best-smelling food I’ve ever had," he said, grabbing a generous bite.

Gabby raised an eyebrow as she poked at her dumplings. “You said that about the tacos we had last night.”

“Yeah, but this time I mean it,” he shot back, his mouth full enough to make her wrinkle her nose.

They ate in comfortable silence for a moment before Glen leaned his chin on his hand, watching her. “So, what’s your guilty pleasure food?”

Gabby paused mid-bite, considering. “Hmm. Probably mac and cheese. But like, the boxed kind. The neon orange powder stuff. None of that fancy baked nonsense.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I knew you were secretly a five-year-old.”

She gave him a mock glare. “Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve had it Mr. Won’t Eat Cheese. What about you?”

“Easy,” he said, without hesitation. “Pop-Tarts. Strawberry. No frosting.”

“No frosting?” she exclaimed, looking genuinely horrified. “What kind of monster eats Pop-Tarts without frosting?”

“This kind,” he said proudly, tapping his chest. “They’re better that way.”

“You’re objectively wrong,” she declared, shaking her head in mock disbelief.

“Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.” He shrugged, reaching for another bite of pad Thai.

“Or,” she countered, narrowing her eyes, “you’ll have to come over for breakfast sometime and let me prove you wrong.”

His brows lifted in interest. “You’re challenging me to a Pop-Tart showdown?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a confident nod. “Frosted strawberry will change your life.”

Glen laughed, the kind of laugh that felt easy and genuine. “Alright, deal. But don’t cry when you realize you’ve been living a lie.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, smirking. “We’ll see about that.”

The conversation drifted as they kept eating, dipping into lighter topics like movies they loved and places they wanted to visit someday. There was a warmth between them, the kind that made the night feel effortless, as though they’d been doing this for years rather than weeks.

When Gabby reached for the last dumpling, Glen swooped in with his chopsticks, snatching it right before she could.

“Hey!” she protested, staring at him in mock betrayal.

He grinned as he popped it into his mouth, chewing with exaggerated satisfaction. “You snooze, you lose.”

“You’re the worst,” she said, though her smile betrayed her.

“And yet, here you are,” he replied, leaning back in his seat with a triumphant grin.

After dinner, Gabby stood and started gathering up the empty containers, stacking them neatly as Glen leaned back against the counter, watching her with a satisfied smile.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s no big deal,” she replied, waving him off as she carried the trash over to the bin. “You bought dinner, and wouldn’t let me pay for at least my share. So the least I can do is help clean up.”

She noticed a couple of dishes in the sink—a stray coffee mug and a plate from earlier in the day. Without hesitation, she rolled up her sleeves and started rinsing them off.

“Gabby,” Glen said, his tone warning, as he moved to stand behind her. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” she answered simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“This is my house,” he reminded her, stepping closer. “And my rules clearly state: no guests do chores.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, is that so?”

“It is.” His voice held a playful firmness, but Gabby wasn’t one to back down easily.

“Well,” she said, turning back to the dishes and continuing to rinse, “I’m not a guest, technically. I’m more of a—what’s the term? Frequent flyer? That means the rule doesn’t apply to me.”

“Frequent flyer?” he repeated, amused. “You’re really stretching here, babe.”

“Call it what you want,” she quipped, reaching for the dish soap. “But I’m finishing these.”

Glen moved quickly, stepping close enough that she could feel the warmth of him at her back. She turned, ready to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped her. His brow lifted, silently telling her to drop it.

“Glen—”

Before she could say another word, he cupped her face and kissed her. It wasn’t rushed or heated, but slow and deliberate, his lips brushing hers just enough to make her heart stutter. He pulled back just slightly, their foreheads nearly touching.

“Let me do it,” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing.

Gabby blinked up at him, momentarily disarmed. “You’re using kissing to get your way now?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a small smirk. “Is it working?”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a reluctant smile. “Fine. But only because you’re stubborn.”

“Stubborn and charming,” he corrected, taking the sponge from her hand and tossing it into the sink. “Now, go relax while I handle this.”

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, stepping aside.

“True,” he called over his shoulder as he began cleaning up the counter. “But you like me anyway.”

Gabby laughed, shaking her head as she leaned against the kitchen island. Watching Glen hum softly while he tidied up, she couldn’t help but think that, yes, she liked him—a little more than she cared to admit.

The evening slowly shifted into that quiet, comfortable lull that comes when two people are perfectly content in each other's company. Gabby was perched on the couch, her legs curled beneath her as she absently scrolled through a playlist on her phone, and Glen was sitting next to her, leaning back against the cushions with his arm draped casually along the backrest.

As the last song of her playlist faded, Glen glanced over at her, his hazel eyes warm but hesitant. “Hey,” he said softly, his tone different now—gentler, more deliberate.

Gabby turned to him, her head tilting slightly. “Yeah?”

His hand reached for hers, threading their fingers together as he gave a small smile. “Do you, uh… want to stay the night?”

Her heart gave a quick, surprised flutter. They’d spent plenty of time together over the last week, but this felt different—more significant, somehow.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Glen gave her hand a soft squeeze and nodded, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his usual confidence. “Yeah. I want you here, with me.”

Gabby’s lips curved into a small smile as she nodded. “Okay,” she said simply.

He smiled back, relief flickering across his face, and stood, tugging her gently to her feet. 

“Come on,” he said, his voice dipping lower as he led her toward his bedroom.

Once inside, the atmosphere shifted. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast warm, golden light across the room, making it feel cozy and intimate. Glen turned to face her, his hands resting lightly on her hips as she looked up at him, her breath catching.

He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a soft, lingering kiss that quickly deepened. Gabby’s hands slid up to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he pulled her closer. The world outside seemed to fade as they got lost in each other, their movements slow and deliberate, as if they had all the time in the world.

Glen’s hands skimmed her sides, his touch firm but careful, and when he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression was tender. His lips found hers again, and this time there was no hesitation. The kiss turned hungrier, more urgent, as they backed toward the bed. Glen’s hands moved to the hem of her top, and when she nodded her silent permission, he carefully lifted it over her head and tossed it aside.

She mirrored his movements, her hands tugging at the fabric of his shirt until he pulled it off and let it drop to the floor. For a moment, they paused, their eyes locking as if to silently check in with each other.

“This all okay?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Gabby nodded again, a small, nervous laugh escaping her. Glen reached for her hand again, intertwining their fingers as he guided her gently toward the bed. The quiet confidence in his movements steadied the fluttering nerves that Gabby felt bubbling just beneath the surface. As the backs of her knees brushed the edge of the mattress, Glen paused, looking down at her as if he was committing every detail to memory—the soft curve of her lips, the way her hair framed her face, the trust in her eyes.

Still holding her hand, he leaned down, brushing his lips across hers in a kiss so gentle it sent shivers down her spine. She let out a soft sigh, her free hand moving instinctively to rest against his chest, her fingertips grazing the warmth of his skin.

Glen smiled against her lips, the corners of his mouth curving in that way that always made her heart skip. "You’re so beautiful," he murmured, his voice quiet but heavy with sincerity.

Gabby felt her cheeks flush, and she ducked her head slightly, unable to hide the small, bashful smile that tugged at her lips. “You’re just saying that,” she whispered.

He tipped her chin back up with a single finger, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m not,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Before she could reply, his lips captured hers again, this time with more urgency. As the kiss deepened, Glen’s hands found her waist, and he guided her back onto the bed, following her down until they were both lying against the soft comforter.

Gabby’s heart raced as Glen hovered above her, his weight supported by his arms on either side of her. His gaze swept over her, equal parts admiration and restraint, as if he wanted to take his time but was finding it harder with every passing second.

“You sure about this?” he asked softly, his voice low and almost reverent.

Her answer was immediate, her hands sliding up to cradle his face. “I’m sure,” she whispered, pulling him down for another kiss.

Glen’s lips moved from hers, tracing a slow, deliberate path along her jaw and down the curve of her neck. Gabby’s breath hitched as he lingered at the sensitive spot just below her ear, his warm breath sending a wave of goosebumps across her skin.

Her hands roamed over his back, exploring the planes of muscle there as he continued to press soft, heated kisses along her collarbone. When his lips found their way back to hers, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

As the kiss deepened, Glen’s hands began to move with quiet certainty, his fingers brushing over the waistband of her jeans. Gabby’s breath caught in her throat as she felt his gentle tug, pulling the fabric down over her hips. She hesitated for a brief second, her stomach tightening with a sudden, unfamiliar feeling.

The jeans were gone in seconds, but as he moved to remove her shirt, Gabby instinctively covered herself with her hands, suddenly aware of every inch of exposed skin. She felt a flush creep across her chest, her breath shallow as she avoided his gaze for just a moment.

Glen paused, noticing the shift in her energy. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, the tenderness in his gaze giving her an almost overwhelming sense of comfort.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his hands still resting on her waist, the warmth of his touch grounding her.

Gabby shook her head quickly, trying to brush it off. “Nothing,” she said, offering him a half-smile. “Just… I don’t know. I’m fine.”

But Glen didn’t buy it. His brow furrowed in concern as he searched her eyes, sensing the unease she was trying to hide. His fingers gently cupped her face, urging her to meet his gaze.

“Gabs, hey,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “Talk to me.”

She sighed, her body tensing under the weight of her vulnerability. She was used to being comfortable with Glen, but now–she felt exposed. And it terrified her.

“I just... I don’t know,” she said, her voice trailing off as she gestured at herself. “I’m not exactly—” She cut herself off, the insecurity creeping in again.

Glen’s eyes softened, and his expression changed to one of pure understanding. He moved slowly, deliberately, his hands trailing down her arms, coaxing her to relax. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Gabby opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her with a gentle finger to her lips.

“No,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “You are. And I’m not just saying that or because I’m your boyfriend or whatever else you were about to say.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his words, but she still felt that twinge of insecurity, the nagging thought that she didn’t look like the women in magazines or the ones she imagined he’d been with before.

But before she could say anything more, Glen lowered himself beside her, his lips finding the sensitive skin just below her ear. His kisses were slow, soft, and deliberate, each one trailing down her neck, over her collarbone, and slowly, carefully, down her chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with admiration. His lips moved lower, brushing across her stomach, and Gabby let out a shaky breath, her body shuddering with each kiss. “Every inch of you is beautiful,” he whispered against her skin.

Gabby closed her eyes, the warmth of his kisses and the sincerity in his words slowly melting away her insecurities. She felt his hands roam along her body, exploring her with such reverence that it felt like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. His lips, soft but insistent, found their way back to hers, kissing her.

Glen pulled away just slightly, his eyes meeting hers again. “You’re perfect, Gabby,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And you don’t need to be anything but yourself for me.”

Gabby’s chest tightened, a lump forming in her throat. The vulnerability, the raw honesty between them, made her heart swell in a way she wasn’t prepared for. She reached for him, pulling him back down into a kiss, letting her hands wander over his back, feeling the heat of his skin, grounding herself in the reality of this moment.

It was slow and tender, the kind of kiss that felt like more than just passion—it was a promise. A promise that, despite her insecurities, she was worthy of this, of him.

Glen’s hands were steady as he slowly slid her underwear down her legs, his gaze never leaving hers. She inhaled sharply, the tension between them thickening, her heart beating faster. When she was completely exposed to him, she couldn’t help but glance down, her eyes tracing the line of his body as he undressed. The sight of him—completely bare—made her pulse quicken.

Once he was bare before her, he leaned down, the muscles in his back rippling with the movement. He crawled back onto the bed, his body brushing against hers as he kissed her again, slow and deliberate, his lips trailing over hers in a heated, tender kiss. Gabby’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the weight of him, all of him, pressing closer, and yet there was an undeniable gentleness in the way he kissed her.

He slid his hand up to her face, cupping it softly as their lips moved together. She kissed him back with an intensity of her own, her hands running up and down his back, feeling every inch of the muscles she had admired from a distance. She couldn’t help but smile against his lips, that nagging insecurity from earlier slowly melting away with every kiss, every touch, every second they spent together.

Glen pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers. He was breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling as he smiled softly at her. “You good?” he whispered, his voice low and husky.

Gabby nodded, her hands sliding down his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under her fingertips. “I’m good,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. And for the first time in a while, she truly felt it—good, real, safe.

Glen pulled away just slightly, his hand moving to the nightstand. Gabby watched him curiously, but then understood when she saw the small box in his hand. He looked at her for a moment, his expression soft but serious.

Gabby nodded. Glen carefully opened the box and retrieved a condom, a quiet moment of practicality amidst the heat of the moment. He gave her a reassuring smile as he slid it on.

"Still sure about this?" he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. Gabby nodded, feeling more at ease now that she knew they were both on the same page.

"Yeah," she murmured, smiling up at him, appreciating the care he’d shown. "I’m sure."

As Glen positioned himself above her, he moved slowly, giving her time to adjust. When he finally slid into her, both of them paused.

Gabby’s breath hitched as she felt the initial stretch, a slight discomfort making her eyes flutter shut. She’d imagined this moment, but the reality was different—more intimate, more overwhelming. She could feel herself tense, it having been a while since she’d been with anyone.

But then, Glen’s hands found her face, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. His voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he murmured against her ear, “You’re doing great. Just breathe, babe. I’ll go slow.”

His words grounded her, bringing her focus back to him. His presence was calm and steady, and the tenderness in his gaze told her everything she needed to know. Slowly, the discomfort eased, and Gabby let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Glen’s hands moved to her waist, helping her adjust as he began to move, slowly at first, giving her the space she needed. Every inch of him was careful, focused on her, his eyes locked on hers as if he were waiting for any sign that she needed a break. “Tell me if you need me to stop,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.

Gabby’s breath was shallow, but with each movement, the discomfort slowly faded, replaced by something deeper, something more intense. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, her hands gripping his back as she began to meet his movements, urging him on.

Glen kissed her forehead, his lips soft against her skin, whispering more reassurances as they moved together. His voice was hoarse with the effort of holding back, his movements becoming more urgent but still patient, still focused on making sure she was okay.

Gabby, feeling the heat building between them, nodded, her body responding to his in a way that made her forget about the earlier discomfort. 

“I’m okay now. You can go faster,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible, but it was enough.

Glen’s pace quickened then, his movements more desperate. As the tension built, Gabby found herself spiraling, lost in the sensation, and with one final whisper of his name, she reached the peak, her body trembling beneath him.

He followed soon after, his name leaving her lips in a breathless moan as they both rode out their highs together.

After Glen collapsed beside her, pulling her close as they both tried to catch their breath, their bodies tangled together beneath the soft covers. Gabby nestled into his chest, her head resting against his shoulder, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

But the silence was comfortable, filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies pressed together.

“You okay?” Glen finally asked his hand tracing patterns along her back.

Gabby smiled, a soft, contented sigh escaping her lips. 

“Yeah,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth and trust.

After the shared silence of their embrace, Glen gently pressed a kiss to Gabby’s forehead before slipping out of bed. His movements were slow, and careful, as if not wanting to disturb the peace between them. 

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, and she nodded, her eyes closing as she listened to the soft sounds of him moving around the room.

When he returned, he held a t-shirt in his hand, the soft fabric looking a little worn, the familiar scent of him still lingering on it. 

“Here,” he said, offering it to her with a warm smile. “Figured you might want something to wear.”

Gabby glanced up at him, still feeling the warmth from their shared moment. She took the shirt from him, fingers brushing against his as she did. “Thanks,” she murmured softly, feeling a little shy now that the raw intensity of the moment had passed.

She slid off the bed and moved toward the bathroom, using the restroom and freshening up before returning to him. When she came back, she saw Glen had pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and was now laying on the bed.

Gabby put on her underwear and then slipped into the oversized shirt Glen had given her, the cotton fabric falling just past her thighs.

She crawled back into bed, settling next to him, feeling the softness of the sheets beneath her. Glen shifted, making space for her, then wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. His touch was light, almost protective as if wanting to ensure she felt safe and cherished.

Gabby snuggled into his chest, the warmth of his body lulling her into a sense of peace. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this comfortable with someone. The vulnerability they’d shared earlier still lingered between them, but now it was wrapped in the softness of intimacy, trust, and care.

“You okay?” Glen asked quietly, his voice soft and steady as his fingers gently traced circles on her back.

Gabby looked up at him, her eyes meeting his with a smile that reached her eyes. “Yeah,” she said, her voice low but filled with contentment. “I’m really good, Glen. Thanks for�� everything.”

He smiled down at her, his eyes soft with affection. “Anytime,” he murmured, kissing her forehead gently.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound between them the gentle rhythm of their breathing, the quiet peace that came from being close to someone who truly cared. Gabby closed her eyes, letting the weight of the moment wash over her, feeling safe, seen, and, for the first time in a long time, completely at ease.

Glen didn’t say anything more, but his hand gently stroked her hair, a tender gesture that spoke louder than any words could. And as she drifted off to sleep in his arms, she couldn’t help but think that this—this was exactly what she needed, what she had been longing for without even knowing it.

[coquelicoq]

girl help the beautiful man at the food truck flirted with me and shook my hand with his big gorgeous hand and held on a little longer than he needed to (but in a good way) and then he gave me a free mango lassi and THEN left his food truck unattended to go get me a bottle of water after i asked if there was any water available and after all that all he wants in exchange (other than payment for the food i ordered) is for me to rate him on google maps. but girl i don't even know how to do that

[deadbeandrop]

actually y'know what i guess i'll talk about it while i'm here

i think about this scene a lot regarding him and (obviously) this episode in general, but especially when slinkman is like... actually a character that gets development and changes over the course of the show, it really does say a lot to me

and with the placement of scenes here, it's right in between lazlo, raj and clam getting slinkman to muster up the courage to show off his past aspirations, to give it another go, only to be reminded of how all that turned out, panic, and flee back to what's comfortable... aaand in between him finding out everything is actually lumpus' fault, and very purposefully sabotaging a budding dream, at that

and i think he's sort of gone through life in this way for a long time, this humble and passive acceptance of the roles and duty he's been placed in, of the world around him deciding who he's supposed to be. especially to lumpus. a best friend, sure, but nowadays an assistant, an emotional support crux to keep him (and the camp) from falling apart. i've always ran along with the idea that running camp together was lumpus' idea from the start, and look how it's turned out

i love how he says "pull yourself together", too, the tone he has as if he's scolding himself for daring to think or try to be anything like that again, that he should know better by now, when the moment's far passed

although, i don't think fame and danger/excitement are what he really wants out of life, even deep down — not anymore, at least. in the end, it's a lot more about healthy self development and sort of taking back "control" of his own path in life, right? and at the same time, a little of all that now and then wouldn't hurt...

see i've been typing this out for an hour but forget everything i just said and let's get slinkman a motorcycle

[oveliagirlhaditright]

I'd also like to state that I'm still so shook that this happened.

[aria0fgold]

Mermaid Alec while it's still Mermay!

[im-still-watching-anime]

i am officially, FINALLY all caught up again in both the manga and the anime for bsd and OH BOY there are thoughts and opinions but also WHO CARES because my tags are finally FREE to be unfiltered

[machiavellli]

what’s up with me and plane crashing dreams. perhaps my life long obsession with the show air crash investigations is hitting or smth

[gl1tchxr]

i didn't realize until recently how little fantasy stuff is in my world. sure they're all animals or dragons and they've got magic but there's no actual gods and i didn't even think about including magical artifacts or beings made of magic until a month or so ago. everything could've been so much cooler this whole time lol

[pepprs]

[youremyonlyhope]

Pippin is my favorite musical of all time.

But unfortunately, I seem to fixate on it during times of my life when my brain is especially existential, anxious, depressed, etc.

The last few days, I've been thinking about Pippin a lot, reading analyses of it, listening to the music. Just generally enjoying my comfort musical.

Then I remembered that earlier this week, my therapist heard me describing how I feel unfulfilled while unemployed and doing a lot of stuff for other people or to make other people happy and not doing anything for myself, all while having a completely messed up sleep schedule. And she said "Hmm... honestly... that sounds a little like depression."

And I was like "No. No. Because I am doing things. It's not like when I've been depressed in the past." but now that I'm back to fixating on Pippin, I think she was somewhat onto something since that's usually a bad sign. Yay!