#sidebar they got his hair right for this one

[whump-adjacent]

Will never get over these photos of Hayden and Vader being bb girls with each other 🥹😘

Source: CineMagna

[sensei-venus]

Miguel’s Old Flannel~ (Miguel Diaz x Chubby!Reader)

(Edited) (Date Night, Collage!Miguel, Body Worship, Mild Rough Sex)

Miguel just couldn't stop staring at his girlfriend from the minute she got out of the bathroom. His eyes locked onto her figure as she moved around his room looking for something, he had no idea what. Eyes focused on her figure, the way her thighs jiggled a little as she moved around the room, or the way her ass was basically eating the old pair of night shorts she had brought over at some point. But what got him really going was his stupid old flannel button-up she had dug out of his closet.

The beginning of the night was spent having fun out on a dinner date. After an amazing dinner, they had stopped at a classy little sidebar in town to just have a small drink before heading back to Miguel's place for the night. It was all fun for a while, the two of them talked and kissed a bit in a small booth in the back of the bar.

They cuddled for an hour or so before finishing their drinks and calling it a night and getting ready to leave. He remembered watching her stand up from the booth, he made sure her short dress didn't ride up from sitting down. A split second later she was gasping and stumbling back into the booth table, the front of her dress covered in cold cheap beer.

The whole top of her dress was covered in booze from some random guy who bumped into her. Miguel shot up from the booth in a split second ready to bow up at the guy who just ruined his girlfriend's new dress and completely embarrassed her in front of the whole bar full of people.

The asshole didn't even apologize and just walked off before anyone could say something. Miguel wanted to go off and tell the guy off, even throw a punch or two, but his girlfriend stopped him by saying "It's ok Miggy, how about we just go back to your place and I'll get cleaned up? I just want to get this crap off me before it gets too sticky and I start smelling too bad." She smiled at him and he could only sigh back.

The two of them left and quickly drove back to his apartment where he let her grab whatever she wanted out of his closet to change into. She took a quick shower and showed back up wearing his old flannel.

Now she was parading around his room, ass out, chubby belly poking out the bottom of the slightly snug shirt, round plump breasts that looked like they could spill out at any moment. He couldn't tell if she was acting stupid or if she knew that she was making his dick hard with every jiggle or with every bend that showed off her fat ass.

He wasn't lying about the fact that those shorts were practically getting eaten by her ass, from his viewpoint from the bed he could tell she didn't put any panties on after taking a shower. One wrong move, one slip and he knew he would get an eye full of her naked folds. He wished she would come a little closer and bend over right in front of him just so he could get a nice eye full of her pussy.

"Miguel, can you help me find my phone? I left it somewhere in here but I can't seem to find it," she mumbled as she picked over some random clothes that littered his room. He smirked as he got up from his bed and strolled over to her wiggling form. He slowly snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her wide waist. His hands gripped at the bottom roll of her belly that squeezed out from under his shirt.

He groaned into her hair, his cheek pressed firmly into the side of her head. He smiled saying " You know I think you may have left it on the bed before you got in the shower." His breath fanning over her ear. She gave a small smile before rolling her eyes and gently prying his arms from around her.

She gently pushed him off before walking over to the bed and looking over the sheets and blanket for her lost phone.

Before she could even try to start actually looking for her missing phone, she felt a strong hand push her down onto the bed. Her upper half folded and crumpled down onto the soft mattress. She let out a surprised gasp as large warm hands spread her ass cheeks, a second later one cheek was let go but then a heavy-handed slap was received onto that exact cheek. She could only let out a small pleasure-filled moan as her abused ass cheek was once again pulled apart, her shorts were only pulled to the side for a moment, and her damp pussy lips exposed.

"Shit mama your already getting wet for me and all I did was give you a little spank to the ass? I think I might have to fix that." a moment later she felt him run a thick thumb through her folds, pushing on her clit before running down her lips to her hole.

She could feel herself twitch as his thumb slowly pushed into her, she shivered and bit her bottom lip as he moved his finger in and out of her tight cunt."Miggy please stop teasing me like that." Her voice was pitched a little too much for her liking, the way he slowly traced her gummy walls made her squirm. He was playing with her. Her face was growing hotter and hotter by the minute the more he played around with her cunt.

She could feel the way she was starting to drip off his finger. Moments later the thumb that had been inside her was removed and before she could protest, the shorts she had on were yanked off and she was being lifted and thrown onto the bed face first. She yelped as she was manhandled onto the bed.

Her head turned to look at the smirking Miguel who stood at the front of the bed. He was quick to make work of his sweatpants and boxers, his shirt was pulled off and thrown on the other side of the room. Her eyes were half-lidded as she took in the sight of her boyfriend. The way his abs moved every time he took a deep breath or the way his pecs naturally twitched in the moment. Her mouth watered as her eyes moved south. The way he held his fat cock in one hand and slowly stroked it. He was already hard and waiting.

She watched as the same thumb that had just been inside her was rubbed over his slit, swiping away a bead of pre. Her mind was fuzzy as he joined her on the bed and went to work kissing along her neck and the exposed area of her chest. Her fingers slowly started to unbutton the shirt to give him more room.

When she reached the last button she was starting to pant, she tried to completely take the old shirt off she was stopped by Miguel's hands on top of hers.

"Keep it on, I want to fuck that pretty little cunt while you wear my shirt, got it." his like were hot against her soft tit as he looks up at her with his big brown puppy dog eyes.

She nodded as she let the now-open shirt fall open. A moment later she was flipped over onto the big bed, her face in the sheets as her ass hung in the air completely exposed to her boyfriend who hovered over her body. She moaned out as once again she was spread open, but a moment later the blunt head of Miguel's dick was pushing into her hole. He was slow to enter, he hissed as her tight walls pulled him in. She was so hot and wet that he could nearly stop himself from going balls deep right into her.

It didn't take long for him to bottom out inside her. Within seconds had was already pulling out to the tip and thrusting back in. The sound of his balls meeting thick ass echoed around his room. One of his hands played with her rolls before landing on one of her breasts.

His fingers pulled and pinched at her hard nipple as he grouped at the flesh of her tit. His other hand pushed her face into the bed, her face tilted to the side as she moaned out at every thrust. Her body jiggled with every thrust making Miguel almost purr with lust. His chest molded to her back. He sucked along the back of her neck and across her shoulders.

He could only smirk as he speed up and his girlfriend squirmed and whimpered in pleasure under him. He grunted out as his trusts grew deeper and the sounds of their lovemaking got louder. Actually he fully admitted, it wasn't love making, he was fucking his girlfriend stupid. He could feel her tight little cunt squeeze around him every time he moved inside of her.

He could feel the wetness pooling around the base of his dick and the way it was starting to drip down his balls. The way she moved against him made him grin even harder. Her ass moved back against him every time he pulled out. If he was really in the teasing mood he would have loved to completely pull out and slap his dick over her wet cunt a few times for show. But he didn't feel like it, he just wanted to watch his girlfriend fall apart on his dick, in his shirt. It wasn't long before he knew she was close.

The way she was starting to clamp up around his shaft and her thick thighs started to shake, threatening to collapse under her. Her moans were starting to turn into high-pitched screams into the sheet below. He could his own balls drawing up with every pass of her wet folds. He quickly flipped her on her side, throwing a leg over his shoulder and straddling the other one. He watched as her belly pooled and rolled with every thrust he made. The way her tits bounced. Her eyes were squeezed shut but he could see the tears in her lashes. She moaned out as she grasped at his forearm and moved against him. Her lips were swollen and he could see where she was biting at her bottom one.

He couldn't stop himself from pulling open the shirt more and letting one of his free hands go down to start circling her clit. She hissed at the feeling of her clit being played with. He speed up as he mouthed at her tit.

"Cum on my cock mama, cream on my dick and I'll fuck a load right into that cunt. You deserve a fat load right in that fat cunt. Being such a good girl for me, taking my fat cock like a champion. Cum mama."

A few thrusts later she was clamping around him, he could only watch as her belly squeezed and her legs shook. Her foot dug into his back as her toes curled from her orgasm. Her scream was silent. Her chest shook as she panted out, he could almost feel her vibrating underneath him. His own orgasm hit him like a wave. He was balls deep as he shot his load right into her cunt. He could feel himself jerk inside her with every new spurt of seed. He rocked back and forth into her, his fingers still playing with her clit to help her ride out her orgasm. For a good second, he could feel the head of his dick brush against her cervix.

They sat like that for a good few minutes, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. Their skin was tacky with sweat. Miguel didn't want to pull out, he wanted to keep her used cunt stuffed with his cum for the rest of the night, but he slowly pulled out. He let her leg fall to the side as the head of his soft cock left her hole with a small pop, leaving it gapping and sticky.

He smirked as he watched her little pussy gasp around nothing and a slow trickle of white seed started to drip out onto the sheets below. His dick left with a creamy ring around the base as a happy reminder of how his girl creamed all over him.

Catching her breath she panted out " Maybe I should dig around in your closet for stuff to wear to bed more often if that's the kinda reaction I'm going to get out of you." She gave a tired smile.

Miguel could only raise an eyebrow before smirking and replying back "I don't think you will even fit in one the next time, your tits will be too full of milk and your belly too big with our kid. If we keep doing this I knew ill get you pregnant before the end of the year."

He watched as her head fell back into the bed with her eyes closed in her orgasm afterglow.

He could only bite his lip as he watched more cum drip down her folds and down her ass.

[angelsanarchy]

One Long Weekend: - Clyde/YN One-Shot Series CH 07

"You guys make a cute couple." "Shut up...wait you think so?"

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @siriuslymooned @cc-luvr @crypticsewerslut @icarus-star @desert-springtime @shady-the-simp

SATURDAY, 5PM

"Are you sure this is okay? I can try and get a cheap room for the night-" Y/n was embarrassed that her roommate put her in this position but she was also incredibly flattered that Clyde stepped up to take her in for the weekend.

"Seriously, I was trying to figure out a way to get you to hang out longer so really this just all worked out in my favor." Clyde smirked.

"You'll tell me if you get tired of me right? I mean I don't want to impose." Clyde laughed and looked over at her.

"Would it make you feel better if I invited you? Y/n would you please camp out with me in my shit apartment for this long weekend so I don't have to spend it with a bunch of idiots who barely shower and eat all the food?" Clyde's formal invite made her smile.

"Besides, I really enjoy your company." Clyde tried to hide his blush but there was no way his long hair could cover the crimson blotches on his cheeks holding out his hand to help her out of the van. She smiled before taking his hand. She didn't let go of his hand as they walked into the building. Clyde felt like there was poprocks in this stomach as they walked hand in hand through his front door and paused seeing there were people inside.

"FINALLY! We've been texting all day! Johnny said you abandon them." Snow said walking towards them. Y/n dropped Clyde's hand unsure of who she was standing in front of and Snow noticed.

"Hi! I'm Snow, this is Lola!" They both smiled sweetly and Y/n returned it.

"Hi! I'm y/n. It's nice to meet you." She said shyly.

"Y/n is hanging out for the weekend so don't make me regret giving you guys free reign on my place." Clyde tossed the bag on the couch and Snow rolled her eyes.

"As if you could get rid of us." Snow shoved his chest playfully. Y/n wasn't sure of what to make of the vibes she was picking up from the two of them. Lola was pretty quiet but very friendly, remarking at how beautiful y/n was and playing with her hair while Snow and Clyde had a sidebar.

"You let us know if you need anything. Clyde doesn't keep a lot of feminine products here but we got you girl!" Lola bumped her shoulder into y/n's shoulder.

"So what do you two have planned for tonight? You're going to the show tonight right?" Snow asked Clyde who immediately looked at Y/n.

"Did you want to go watch Johnny's band? I mean you did get them the gig." Clyde shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Ohhh! You're the girl Clyde stalks! Johnny said you finally talked to her!" Snow gripped Clyde's arm.

"You know when you actively stalk someone, you're not supposed to tell people. I mean in the event someone murdered me, you would be the first suspect." Y/n joked making Clyde shake his head.

"Can we all stop referring to her as the girl I was stalking? Does anyone care about my self preservation?" Clyde asked and collectively the girls answered with a resounding no or shaking their heads.

"It's much more fun to watch you squirm." Y/n winked at him. He chuckled and Snow looked between them seeing how sweet her friend was for this girl.

"I'm down for going to the show but I don't think I really have anything to wear-" Lola cut Y/n off.

"OH DRESS UP! I love it! We can get you ready!" Lola ran over and grabbed a big bag off the floor by the front door.

"Oh..okay well can I use the bathroom first?" Y/n asked and Lola followed her to the bathroom. Snow hung back and pulled Clyde aside.

"You guys make a cute couple." Snow tried to tame her excitement.

"Shut up...wait you think so?" Clyde was typically oblivious to how women viewed him but Snow had known him in high school before they both dropped out. He was a shy skater who didn't really approach a lot of people, specifically girls but he had a lot of traits that would make for a really great boyfriend.

"Yes! She's clearly sweet on you Clyde! I'm proud of you for stepping up and actually asking her out." Clyde closed his eyes.

"Yeah I didn't...It just sort of happened? I mean her roommate is having a romantic lady weekend and sort of kicked her out but she stayed here last night. I'm just not sure how I can keep this going without fucking it up or making it weird." Clyde's insecurities wasn't something he let a lot of people in on. These two were friends from way back and she had seen him cry sitting outside gym class before after getting turned down. She told him she would take that to the grave.

"Just keep it light! The show will be fun and we'll probably come back here later tonight. We can hang out too if you need back up." Snow was trying to hype Clyde up just as Lola and Y/n emerged from the bathroom. Y/n had borrowed a lace crop top that supported her curves nicely and a faded pair of black jeans with the knees ripped out. She had pulled her hair back just slightly and keep her makeup light which Lola tried to fight her on.

"Damn girl! You look sexy as hell!" Snow grabbed her hand and spun her around.

"Thanks. I guess its better than what my roommate left me with." Y/n tossed her bag next to Clyde's nightstand and he tried to snap out of it when she looked at him. He didn't comment on how she looked, just dug his hands in his pockets.

The four of them got in the van and headed towards the club from last night to see the band perform. Y/n brought her camera with her to shoot some photos for herself. She hadn't actually taken photos that she actually wanted to take in a long time. She snapped a few photos of Lola and Snow in the back of the van, some of Clyde while he was driving, making sure to cover his hearing aid with his hair before putting his hand up to stop her playfully trying to get a close up. They walked into the club and Clyde spotted Johnny backstage tunning up his guitar. He gave him a shout and Johnny nodded acknolwedging their arrival.

Clyde looked over at Y/n and saw she had her arms wrapped around herself. He shrugged his hoodie off and held it out to her. She gave him a soft smile pulling it on and making sure to put her mouth up to his good ear.

"Thank you! I was worried I would offend the girls if I grabbed a coat but I get cold easy." Clyde felt a shiver run down the back of his neck from her breath on his neck.

"They wouldn't have cared. They're pretty chill." Clyde leaned into her space so she could hear him. Once Johnny got on stage, the building rumbled with drunken patrons and fans. Y/n pulled her camera up and started snapping shots of the band as they played, bobbing her head slightly enjoying the sound.

Clyde stepped around her and told her to keep her eyes on him. She laughed unsure of what he was talking about but the moment he jumped onto the stage, she started taking pictures of him. He reached for the chandeller in the middle of the floor and started swinging on it.

"Holy shit!" Y/n started cheering but not for the band. Clyde was a total wild man as he started getting passed around the crowd, surfing like it was nothing new to him. She continued to take pictures of him until she caught sight of the manager ready to pounce. She pulled him down from the crowd and he stumbled into her chest, out of breath and full of smiles.

"You're crazy you know that?" Y/n let her lips touch his ear as she yelled. Clyde grinned pulling the cap to her camera out of her jeans pocket and capping it. He took her hands and started jumping up and down to the music, watching her laugh and headbang gave him life. This was the most fun he's had at a show ever.

Eventually Snow and Lola joined them in their dancing but Y/n didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around Clyde's neck so he could spin her around in the middle of the crowd. He knew he would never forget the feeling of her smiling lips against his neck as the song ended.

[neverchecking]

i really like your writing!! omg!! may i please request some nsfw with soft yandere four?? preferably like an unexpected sexual advance from reader and four is just kinda like "omg .... my goddess... touching me... what is happening" like brain mush sorta like the hyrule fic lol

take your time and drink lots of water!

You absolutely can! So, Four is one of the Links that I'm not too too confident writing about, but I can't get better if I don't do it!

Sidebar; Yall went feral over that Hyrule fic and I just adore it.

Drink all your water too, Darling!

(If you saw something earlier, no you didn't.)

Smut, so 18+ MDNI!

Smut CW: AFAB! Reader, Mutual Masturbation, Hand jobs, fingering, gentle praise, soft sleepy sex.

Handling the Heat

He did not have the Triforce of Courage.

He never wielded the Master Sword.

But he did have something the others did not. Something that made him eternally grateful

The Minish were dastardly little devils under the guise of angelic little mice, scampering and hiding away from plain sight. They were fast little things, keen and deceptively deceiving, never truly giving themselves away unless they absolutely wanted to.

But they knew Four relied on them never showing themselves to you, unless he was there. They were his eyes when he could not be there. They saw things. They heard things. They knew about every little secret you tried shoving away. And then they told him. Because he was the only one with more than a single braincell in this goddess forsaken group. The only one who could be tasked with your care.

You had a way of making the smattering of voices and emotions in his head settle. Like an eye in a storm that howled like no other. Like a settle in an earth quake where the tectonic plates just want to crash against each other. Like a soothing balm on a burn that he had long since allowed to fester with an angry sizzle.

And he just could not let you go. He couldn't! So, he may have included the help of the Minish. That's not illegal. You don't even know about it! So what harm is it really?

He didn't see any harm in it! It kept you safe and his nerves at ease. The colors all agreed it was for the best, and at that point it was majority rules.

Who was he to disagree?

No one, that's who.

Closing the door to the inn room, he let a small smile creep onto his features. They had a protocol for Inns, since there was ten of them and there was very rarely ever an inn that had ten individual rooms, where they all paired up (Sometimes even split into threes or fours) and took a bed/room/whatever was available. Four ensured that he was the only one you trusted enough to share with. It got him close to you and forged such a strong bond between you two that it made his heart positively flutter. The feeling of your skin, warm to the touch, against his; the comforting rhythm of your breathing, steady and consistent, just the way he liked it; your weight ever grounding as you slept soundly and peacefully on his chest. All of it just drove him positively crazy. In the best way, of course.

You were laying in bed, blanket pulled to your chin with your hair splayed behind you like a halo. He had stayed up with Wars, Time and Twilight doing some strategy run throughs and he had sent you to bed a while ago. He was glad to see you so relaxed. You didn't deserve the stress this life brought. You deserved so much better. So much more than what that disgrace of a stand-in gave you in your life.

The though of Hylia and the hand she dealt you made him snarl to himself before it was falling into a soft, serene smile at a small sound you made. He stripped out of his outer tunic and armor, into his undershirt and a soft pair of shorts before climbing in next to you. You perfect features scrunched gently at the intrusion of the cold air when he opened your nest of blankets, which he quickly soothed with a gently brush along your cheek. He settled right beside you, only for his breath to catch in his throat at the sight of your dazzling eyes peeking open and staring at him.

He swallowed at the sight of your precious bedhead and positively adorable, sleepy, little pout. "Did I wake you?"

You gently shook your head, moving to burrow into his chest. Your hands grasped at his tunic as you took a dep inhale before relaxing against him. "No."

Thank the golden three.

"Why are you awake, my jewel?" He gently asked, brushing through your hair. You moved a bit before sitting up just enough to stare down at him, brushing his bangs (Which now hung freely without his hair band holding them back) behind his ears. Your touch was every bit electrifying as it was soothing.

"Couldn't sleep." You couldn't sleep? Now that just wouldn't do. What did he need to do to sooth your aches? Your fears and your anxieties? Anything, you just need to tell him.

"Something keeping you up?"

You moved again. Only this time, you gently moved one of your lean legs over his hips, settling it on the other side of his hips as you straddled him. Your hands laid on his chest, fingers splayed across his pecs as one of the straps of the tank top you wore to bed slid down your shoulder.

He swallowed harshly, face lighting up in a pure crimson. Not that you could see in the limited light. He could see you though. Nothing but drowsy lust and fatigued seduction as the moonlight highlighted your very being.

He almost feared he was dreaming again.

He didn't even know what to do with his hands at this point, holding them uselessly just over your thighs.

Then you nodded, one hand moving to the hem of your shirt, disappearing under the fabric that hid your core from him. He sucked in a harsh breath when your forearm caught the fabric, raising it with your movements as your fingers gently flossed between your labia lips. You weren't wearing any bottoms, at all, and your fingers shined in the limited light.

He swallowed again, aching to replace your fingers with his own, hell even with his face, but his brain had short circuited. Fried. Crashed. Those braincells just flew straight out the window as he practically drooled at the image over top of him. His hips bucked minutely before he righted himself.

"You could say that." You hummed, head rolling back as your fingers moved to circle your clit before pulling away as your shirt fell back. The hand that remained on his chest moved to settle right beside his head, handling your weight as you gently pulled the band of his pants down just enough for his cock to bounce out. It dripped onto his stomach, eagerly awaiting attention as his breath caught.

You licked your lips, settling back onto his thighs as your deft fingers wrapped around him. He hissed at the sensation, bucking into your palm. You lips upturned into a devious smirk, gently tightening your grip before you began to pick up a steady rhythm. He groaned, ears pinning to his head as every nerve jolted in excitement.

The adrenaline seemed to kickstart his brain again as one of his hands landed on one of your thighs, the other creeping up to your naval. Your movements halted for a fraction of a second. He took the initiative, fingers copying your earlier movements.

Your entire body shivered above him, but you continued your pace, dragging up and down deliciously. Even as his thumb padded in a steady circle around your clit, you remained so. Until he angled his hand to prod his middle finger against your opening. You shuddered once more, only this time you let out a harmonious whine, back arching into him. "Goddess, Four-" You gently gasped, speed picking up. Your thumb gently circled the head of his cock before swiping over the top of it, smoothing pre-cum up and down his shaft to ease the motions. He whined and withered underneath of you, easing a second finger into your cunt. Your own slick dripped down his fingers and onto his palms as your own noises echoed out, ringing in his ears like a symphony.

At some point your eyes had closed, but when he looked up, they were open and looking right at him as you slowly moved to lean on his chest. His fingers never stopped, matching your own bobbing hand. "You are so gorgeous, Link."

He keened, something high and pretty, as pure euphoria ran through his veins in a hot flash. It was too quick and too unpredictable for him to mitigate, a moan leaving his lips as hot white streaks painted both his torso and your own. His fingers never stopped though and it seemed his own wonton noises sent you over as you shook and twitched above him. Your breaths came in hot pants against his cheeks as he felt like his entire soul just ascended. The only reminder that this was real and that just happened being the mixed fluids cooling on his chest.

Maybe this was why you didn't mind sharing a room with him.

[percheduphere]

How do you think Mobius will live his life in the timeline? Many theorize that something happens to Don and Mobius takes his identity so his sons live with a father. I prefer that Mobius reflects on his old life, realizes he can’t live it, and creates his own life.

Oh, boy, Anon. I have a lot of fanfic ideas for this, but let's get into the meta-analysis side of this before we get into the rabbit hole that is my washer-dryer machine of an imagination.

Mobius is not doing well. He is going through the stages of grief. I've written an extensive meta here regarding the darker aspects of his character and how he's at risk by the end of the series. I also wrote a brief meta here regarding how his grief might manifest.

With this in mind, I actively HATE the idea of Mobius spiraling to the point he becomes "corrupted". I don't what Michael Waldron did to Wanda. I guess you could make the argument that it would be interesting to see a man emotionally unravel in such a way, but I hold Mobius's unshakable kindness dear in my heart. I don't ever want him to lose it because it is essentially his superpower.

[Sidebar: comics canon House of M notwithstanding; Marvel and DC comics canon are consistently horrible in their characterization of exceptionally powerful women: Wanda Maximoff Jean Grey/Phoenix; Carol Danvers/then Ms. Marvel; Rogue; on and on; I'll throw Sylvie in here, too, because why not, it's true.]

I see Mobius mourning Loki for two years. Two years because, statistically, that is how long it takes for most people who've lost an intimate loved one to get out of clinical depression. During this period, I see him losing weight, wandering aimlessly between timelines, trying and failing to copy Don's life by taking a job that involves jet skis or aquatics more generally. B-15 would make a point to check-in on him and know he's not doing well, but Mobius, because he does not want anyone to worry about him, because he is used to being the person who keeps people together, insists he's fine.

MY FANFIC IDEA

I see Mobius eventually recognizing he needs a therapist, which he will find ironic and deeply troubling, but he's not about to give up on trying to live for Loki's sake.

And in his conversations with his therapist and B-15, Mobius will come to realize that he can still use his key strengths outside of the TVA: analyzing people, deconstructing what makes them tick, using that knowledge to help the other person, similar to a therapist but more active in support. Mobius is very well-suited to become a social worker of troubled and at-risk youth. I think he should pursue this and ...

Mobius will choose a branched timeline in the late 90s/early 2000s. There, he will meet a war-orphaned, thirteen year-old Wanda Maximoff, who is friendless and struggling to understand the nature of her powers (magic). Mobius is drawn to her right away. It takes time, but he eventually gains Wanda's trust.

Red. Red is Wanda's color. It's in her hair, her cheeks, her magic. Now that red reaches Wanda's eyes, filled with tears her anger stoppers. "You saw what I can do. What I did. The other kids call me a 'witch' 'cause that's what I am. A witch. A monster."

Mobius sits next to the young girl on the stoop. The sun winks at them through the green tree boughs, and he wonders, for a moment, what Loki might think of him now, finding solace in a child who needs solace.

"That's not true. You're not a monster, but I tell you what: witches are pretty cool." Mobius grins, knocking his knee against hers. The fabric of his slacks shakes, still too loose. "Y'know, my best friend has magic just like yours, except it's green instead of red."

Wanda peers at him, hopeful and dubious. "Really?"

"Yup. He had a tough time, too, being different." He leans closer to her, sharing a secret. "But things got better. You should've seen him. He was--is-- magnificent. You're magnificent."

Her lips purse into an embarrassed smile. She drops her head, thoughtful, and tucks her hands beneath the fold of her knees. "Where is he now? Do you still see him?"

The question is innocent, as all things are with a soul of thirteen. She doesn't mean to hurt him. Mobius knows this. So he takes the thorn of her words and presses it against his ribcage. His throat works. The ache comes and goes but never fully abates.

"Well," Mobius sighs. "He had to move on. Life is like that sometimes. People come and go. Things happen and ... there's not much you can do except hope they're okay. That they're happy and safe."

He can't look up. Not at the tree or the sun. He worries if he does, he'll start to cry, and that won't do when this girl who reminds him so much of his wily god has finally cracked a smile.

"C'mon," he says, rising to his feet. "Let's get you something to eat."

"McDonald's?" Wanda brightens.

Another thorn. He takes that one too and thinks of pretty roses.

"Whatever you want, kiddo."

[madstronaut]

WIP WRITES RIGHTS NOW! I SAID WIP WRITES RIGHTS NOW

blahblahmaster rant list link blahblah dont look at me

PSA when you only just discover a moot is a prolific writer you run to read all her writing and comment in excruciating detail cc: @gemmahale

blorbo x named oc fans, this one’s for you (it’s me, im talking about me)

please see below a random and incomprehensive ramblelist of my stream of consciousness as I sampled from gemma's works:

Feylands WIP

I find the content warning tags extremely titillating (also I have not seen such a prolifically well organized tag list AND color coordinated to boot like gemma’s blog???? putting my outlook inbox/work docs/excel sheets to shame!!!) and I don’t even read/like fae stories (yes I never read ACOTAR and I don’t plan to anytime soon, I missed that booktok ship, most likely cos im not on the tikky tokky as the children like to say, i watch the reposts on instagram like a proper mlllenial)

Josephine’s heart pitter-pattered at the compliment, heat climbing up her cheeks as she mumbled a thanks, their eyes locking again. 

🥰🥰🥰NOT THE PITTER PATTER

my inquisitive ass is already like “what’s gary’s real name” and “hearing aid = soap b/c of all the damn bombs he blows up?” “but i headcanon gaz with freckles, maybe it’s gaz? gaz = gary?” “or maybe ghost = gary?” GEMMA GIVE US WIPS I MEAN HINTS PUT ME OUTTA MY MISERY

Call of the Wild WIP

I love the little note gemma included about this being inspired by @deadbranch (shoutout to branchy btw my beloved) - honestly floored at all the beautiful fic/headcanon/drabbles/askfills ive read that are the brainchilds birthed from love for other creators’ brainchildren

also equally floored at how many of writers here are like “this incredibly layered/moving/tender/spicy/nasty fic came to me in a dream”

also SUBVERTED TROPES SUBVERTED TROPES SUBVERTED TROPESSSSS

Kyle cleared his throat, shifting his stance. “She prefers to be called a wolf.”

AHAHAHAHAHAHA GODDDD THIS WAS A ZINGER

“Please!” Kyle called back, face half covered in shaving cream.

i need fanart of this right fucking now let me, i mean shannon, sorry oops but haha..unless? finishing shaving you bby

and FUCKING ROACH IS IN THIS FIC HOLD ME BACK OR YOU *WILL* GET CAUGHT IN THE CROSSFIRE OF ME TEARING APART THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE BECAUSE MY BRIEF HYPERFIXATION ON ROACH IS BACK WITH A VENGEANCE FROM THIS SMALL SNIPPET AND IN THIS 500 PG DISSERTATION I WILL-

also THAT PROLOGUE APPETIZER SLAYED ME

“The way I see it, you’re fucked either way. You don’t make it out of here, you’re fucked. You become mine, you’re fucked - but in the good way.”

this + the mention of bulge + damp cheek definitely brought a visceral IRL memory for me (affectionate/horny)

also sidenote: it’s the little things that matter and gemma i see you gurl and salute you - incorporating things like hearing aids, mentioning roach is HoH/using sign language, shannon using a shower cap for her curly hair - 😘👌

Corporal Distraction WIP

holy MOTHER OF FUCK THIS SHORT LITTLE EXCHANGE IS FUCKING HOOOOOOOOOT

The captain moved closer to her, gently lifting her chin up with his finger. “So you’re the bird that’s got my sergeant distracted.”

“Sir?”

“Been trying to figure out what’s got Gaz so twisted up lately. Figured it was a partner, didn’t think it was a Corporal under him.” He didn’t release her chin, now holding it between his thumb and finger. “Has good taste, at least,” he muttered, eyes shifting to the Lieutenant, who only huffed in response.

any premise that fucks with/frustrates/sleep-deprives soap has my heart 🥰

Flowers From My Love WIP

the bit where they discuss the casserole perfectly encapsulates each of the boys imho - price grunting out a response, soap eagerly asking about the food (such youngest of the group/im baby vibes), gaz picking up on the note and name/# left, ghost grumbling and ofc he fucking HAS to bring up manchester- 

and the MOODBOARD!!!! God I fucking love when writers flesh out a bit of their worldbuilding with related art, moodboards, face claims, etc etc etc i WILL lick up every crumb from the floor like a starving doggo- fun fact, one of my first interactions in cod fandom was requesting a moodboard from @the-californicationist (also shoutout to cali my beloved)

and PEPPER THE SERVICE DOG OH MY LORD PLEASE GOD IF THE 141 MEN CAN’T BE REAL LET PEPPSY BE REAL PLEASE GOD IF I HAD TO ASK FOR ONE THING FROM THIS CURSED HELLSITE-

Palace Hallways WIP

my mind blacked out at artificer soap and knight kyle and druid ghost - I also just finished a campaign with my homegroup IRL not too long ago and we’re taking a long break before the next game while our DM preps and this is making me miss playing with them ;-;

Edge Dressing WIP

KATE KATE KATE KATE KATE KATE that’s it that’s the tweet

“She did, did she?” Kate murmured, scratching at Letty’s scalp and smirking as the woman went boneless against her.

yes only natural, i too would also go boneless if laswell was scratching my scalp and giving me a massage mommy? sorry. mommy. sorry? mommy. sorry?

Embroidered Secret WIP

if someone told me a year ago when I wasn’t into regency shows/fics that reading some COD AUs - yes fucking CALL OF DUTY, the military propaganda first person shooter video game - would change my mind - well id be more shocked than if someone flashed some ankle at my victorian pearl clutching ass

also please i love every single trope listed here

141 Studios WIP

“Our sweet soft girl Samantha (plus size rep ftw!) finds her niche quickly as the resident camgirl - creating a new set of films called "Tip of The Tongue", where she (and others) commentate on the scenes being filmed in a behind the scenes way.”

fuck i would read an entire multiseries for this premise alone???

Crew scramble around to clean up the sweat and cum streaked across the couch to reset for another scene.

fun fact - i briefly interned as a PA in college and one of the producers i worked with mentioned offhand that he once rolled up to a set that was cleaning up after a porn shoot and claimed they were rolling away literal barrels of lube 👀

“You the new girl?” His voice was deep, rumbling like stones cascading down a mountain.

NEW GIRL, OLD MAN, BLUE BIRD, CLOWN WITH A BUCKET HAT, I WILL BE ANYTHING FOR YOU PS!SIMON

A Protege’s Trust WIP

The most titillating tag of all..an empty one! lol jk im just messin with ya gemmy but actually yes i don’t see any posts with this tag

Museum Muse WIP

ahem you already know my rabid thoughts on this but noticed this new post re: multiple timelines and tbh do I know what’s going on? absolutely not - do I want to dive into this museum muse multiverse regardless? absolutely yes

Brix WIP

Re: “If it’s a story about learning to be loved again after a series of devastating losses, can that story then end on another loss? (And should the epilogue soften that loss by allowing them some sort of reprieve?)”

YES! i need to be in a certain mood to read angst but GOD WHEN I AM IN THE MOOD DOES IT HIT THE SPOT/FEEL SO CATHARTIC

also re: these comments - “Also, a bit of catharsis for my shitty experience working in the orchard industry.”

“It's less of a love story and more of a healing story. It's also a bit of a middle finger to the orchard that nearly hospitalized me. 🙃 (It's healing not only for the characters lol.)”

i find these types of fics are some of the best ive read when the writers have IRL experiences bleed into their writing - just has a certain je ne sais quoi about em

also i could be knee deep in sewage sludge and if i sensed soap within a 1 mile radius i would throw myself at him, brb busy handforging a trophy for annabeth for having enough willpower to continue working while JOHN SOAP MACATAVISH WHINES ABOUT WANTING TO COP A FEEL

Squeamish Stitches WIP

✨GLITz!!!! ✨fucking love this name

“God, I’d die here a happy man,” he grumbles into your thigh as you adjust your balance. 

His hands wrap around your calves, grunting as the treads dig into his shoulders. “No, between your legs.”

Ghost interrupts. “Keep it tactical, Sergeants.”

THE FUCKING BANTER? GHOST COCKBLOCKING GAZ? FUCKIGN SCREAMINNG

Useful Girl WIP

you had me at “we gonna get nast-ay kink-ay” and also got strong “secretary” with maggie gyllenhaal + james spader vibes 

also i had to look up ‘brown bottle flu’ as i’ve never heard that term before! ✨i learn somethng new with fanfic daily✨

She felt the breeze as the door opened behind her, the whiff of cigar smoke and cologne causing her to shift in her seat and sit up straighter.

if you’ve ever smelled/heard someone before you saw them it is *quite* the experience

“It's the prickle of the mountain's oncoming storm. It's the flapping of the flag in the howling wind. It's the explosion of lightning hitting a tree, splitting it open, part charred and part living - two states diametrically opposed to each other. It's the sigh of relief when the clouds finally part and the rain pours out. It's the breath of fresh air when the storm dissipates and everything is left clean.

It's yearning so hard for something that it leaves one fundamentally changed when they achieve it.

...I really ought to make moodboards for this fic. 😅”

this was an incredible fucking paragraph to read, fucking poetry right here, also incredibly erotic? though that might just be leftover brainworms in my head from watching shogun and a scene where one of the main charas describes an orgasm as “clouds parting after rain” 

Highland Tartans WIP

She reached her hand into his wool, petting him. “He comes from a good line and all, he’s just young.”

MacTavish laughed, sliding his hands to rest on his waist. “Aye, young and dumb. I know the type.” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

PLEASE GOD GEMMA

I CANNOT CHOOSE FAVORITES BUT SPARE A THOUGHT FOR MY FREE TIME AND WORK HOURS WHEN YOU POST MORE OF THESE AND AT LEAST SPREAD THEM OUT SO I CAN KEEP MY JOB AND PAY MY BILLS INSTEAD OF GORGING ON YOUR WRITING

anyway to sum up i am fully convinced the multiverse lives inside of gemma’s brain because goddamn i am convinced once day some god-tier epic space opera multiseries is gonna spring out fully formed like athena from the gemmamind (yes I compared you to zeus, a mythical god, deal with it)

[blainesebastian]

shaken (ccg universe)

words: 4,104 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) “hurt/comfort request, something similar to “I got you” , maybe the next run in with asshole Pete after the fight he caused and he runs into ccg?” notes: this has a character named Pete from ‘misunderstandings & miscommunications’, it’s suggested you read that first :) masterlist is here for cgg! original masterlist on sidebar.  warnings: uncomfortable situations, unwanted sexual advances for reader  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted, @behindmygreyeyes

There are not many nights that you and Austin can just spend time with one another with no obligations, no pressure—at least for right now. Austin is starting to shoot a film next week and so he's invited, naturally, to a fellow cast mate's house for a party. His name is Rickson and you've met him a handful of times before, he's handsome, a great actor, and makes you feel like you belong in the world that you're just starting to dip your toes into. Not to mention he has a great girlfriend, named Peg, and both are just incredibly down to earth people. More need to be like this in the profession, in your opinion. They're similar to Austin, which is probably why they're friends too, genuine and kind, hard working. So you're looking forward to hanging out at their place, enjoying a party, enjoying your boyfriend.

You're in a flower printed skirt tonight that rides up your thighs a bit, a perfect reveal of skin and a cream lace halter top. The weather is warm out so you're definitely eyeing the patio that has a beautiful pool as Austin comes back from the kitchen and hands you a drink, lingering in the living room with groups of other people. Everyone is kinda doing their own thing, listening to music, playing pool, talking and catching up. You hum as Austin wraps his arms around your waist from behind, placing his chin on your shoulder.

"Kinda wish I would have brought my swimsuit." You say, turning your head a bit. You press a kiss to his cheek just because you can.

"I'm sure you can get by without one," He grins as you gently elbow him, "I certainly wouldn't object."

“Well I do,” You laugh, “But admirable attempt.”

It’s been a decent few hours that you’ve been here, just having drinks and swapping stories with people you haven’t seen in a while, occasionally dancing when you can get Austin to do it. Regardless of how decently packed the place is, you mostly entertain yourselves with eachother—you feel like you’re reading celebrity gossip or something, that’s the comment you see the most.

Austin Butler and girlfriend, Y/N L/N stuck to one another like glue all night—definitely not something terrible (or inaccurate) to read.

At a certain point you’re both a couple beers in (two shots of tequila) and you’re leaning against Austin’s side as he talks with Rickson about the upcoming film. It’s nothing too heavy, mostly just what they’re looking forward to and you find yourself smiling on and off because…you love watching Austin talk, especially about something he’s passionate about. He moves his hands a lot, eyes bright, more likely to laugh. It’s so easy to fall in love with him.

Eventually, you pull away to use the restroom, having a few conversations along the way with people who remind you that you’re beginning to find a place in this industry. It’s almost surreal at some points but you love getting used to it.

After washing your hands, you take a long look at yourself in the mirror above the sink, your cheeks flushed pink and your eyes slightly hazy. You smile, smoothing your fingers through your hair and adjusting your skirt so that the zipper isn’t askew.

When you open the bathroom door, you almost hit someone with it because they’re standing too close, “Oh damn, sorry.”

And it takes a long moment of this guy staring at you before he grins…and you realize who he is. It’s Pete. “Hey Y/N,” He runs a hand through his hair, swaying just slightly on his feet, having a good time too. “Long time no talk—though I guess that was the point, right?”

You remember that night, being out with Austin. You had been so furious that Pete told you your boyfriend didn’t want him speaking to you. Of course within that moment, you weren’t sure why—you were just confused at the lack of communication and essentially telling someone how to be around you. It wasn’t until much later that Austin told you the truth—that Pete was bad news, that he hit on someone else’s girlfriend and made her super uncomfortable.

Austin alluded that Pete did more than just said things he shouldn’t have.  

And now you’re here, by yourself in this upstairs corridor where the bathroom is, with a slightly intoxicated Pete.

“Why you lookin’ so nervous?”

You blink, tumbling back down into your thoughts. You try a smile but it feels weird on your face, “I’m not,” You laugh lightly, “Just uh, tired. Thinking about finding Austin and heading out.”

You think that’ll end the conversation, beginning to walk past him, but he puts his arm up and kind of blocks your way. He uses his body to keep you cornered, surprisingly light and easy on his feet despite drinking. You feel like you’re moving in slow motion, always getting cut off by him when you try to pivot.

It’s then a chill works into your belly, drips like melting icicles.

“Austin, right,” He chuckles, “How’s he doin’? You know, I never thought it was fair for him to tell us to stop talkin’.”

He’s acting like they used to have conversations all the time…you’d just share hellos? Update one another on stories when bumping into one another at parties. That was it.

“I mean, you’re your own woman, right?” Pete reaches out and brushes his thumb over your cheek, “You do what you want to.”

“Don’t touch me,” You attempt to swat his hand away but that only makes him smirk.

“Aw c’mon, I remember the few parties we saw one another at…you were much more fun than this.”

It only takes a moment for you to realize that you’re in trouble, too late for you to move and knock him out of the way with momentum. Pete pushes you against the wall and you can tell he’s trying to shift you into the bathroom and a deep, terrified part of you knows that if he gets you in there…

“Stop! Let me go, Pete, stop—” You wriggle in his embrace, pushing, beginning to kick a little and you realize the more you move, the more he seems to be enjoying it. He presses himself against you, plants a kiss to your neck, pulls at your skirt. “No, stop.”

His fingers dig into your skin and you cry out in pain, fear, panic and he’s leaning so heavily into your body that you feel like you could topple over. Your hands move and try for any distraction, one moment of movement—your thumb pokes at his right eye and you stomp on whatever foot is closest to you and—

And he lets go.

Scrambling, you fall to the carpet and get up as quickly as you can, Pete laughing, more amused than anything else. You don’t bother to look back over your shoulder, rushing back downstairs to where the party is.

--

Shaking it off as much as you can, you push your way towards the sound and liveliness of others having a good time in search of Austin. He's not where you left him in the living room, which isn't surprising. He tends to float, walks with people as he talks with them.

The crowd gives you little comfort, admittedly you look over your shoulder every so often for Pete but…he’s not there. It feels like there’s almost a processing error inside your brain; did that really just happen?

There's panic clawing up your throat like bile from your stomach and you place a hand on your torso and take a deep breath through your nose so you don't get sick. You haven't even had that much to drink tonight but it's sitting sourly in the back of your mouth. You just want to go home. It's a kneejerk reaction to feel stupid over what's just happened even though you know it's not your fault, and you hate how a word like 'weak' starts spinning itself in your mind. Running a trembling hand through your hair, you wander up to the girlfriend of the host,

"Hey Peg, have you seen Austin?"

She turns and nods, "Yeah, he's out by the pool," And her smile kind of knocks down a notch when she gets a good look at you, "Hey are you okay?"

"Fine," You force a smile and make a b-line for the back door, sliding it open and stepping out.

Your eyes take a lap around the pool deck before you finally spot him having a conversation with a small group of people and you're incredibly thankful to the universe that it ends by the time you reach him. Your hand settles on his lower back and he turns, smiling as he sees you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. Utter relief slams into your body like a car crash and it's almost overwhelming how safe he automatically makes you feel. You lean into his side, your other hand touching his chest for a moment and you take in a soft breath to center yourself.

"There you are," Austin squeezes your shoulder, "Thought I might have to send out search and rescue."

He puts down his beer on a small table to give you his full attention, hands resting on your shoulders and moving down your arms every so often. You clear your throat, making sure your voice is steady before you begin speaking, "I think I'm ready to go, can we leave a bit early?"

Austin's eyebrows draw together and you can tell he's pushing through the soft fog of rose-colored tipsiness that both of you have had since the beginning of the night. You unfortunately have sobered up very quickly. He moves his hand to cup your cheek, "What's wrong?"

You shake your head, keening a bit out of his touch, "Nothing—I'm just...tired," You lie, "Can we just—"

"Yeah," Austin says quickly, the tone of his voice shifting almost immediately. The more he takes a look at you, the more he knows that something isn't right. "Yeah, we can go."

You nod softly, playing with the button of his shirt before beginning to pull away. You can hear the back door slide open again, noises from the party carrying on inside spilling out. When you look back up at Austin's face, his gaze has shifted to the patio door and…the blue of his eyes suddenly goes very cold. You swallow, glancing over your shoulder to see Pete grinning at table of two women wearing bikinis and ice coils around your spine. You put your hand back on your boyfriend's chest,

"Austin," There's a gentle warning tone to your voice, telling him not to get involved. He looks back down at you, his mouth opening slightly because...if he hadn't put two and two together, he certainly has now.

“What did he do?” And it’s almost funny how much his question sounds like a statement because he knows, he knows something happened without you even having to tell him. But you can’t get the words out, they’re stuck underneath your tongue.

His jaw clenches at the silence and suddenly he's moving before you can stop him, "Austin."

You can't stop the situation from spilling out in front of you, even as you follow him to...you're not sure? The last thing you want to do is get in the middle of it, you're not sure if Austin will listen. And a part of you isn't sure you want him to, either. Austin grabs Pete's shirt and yanks him away from the table that he's flirting with. While Pete is a bit bulkier, Austin's got height over him by a full head and he definitely uses that to tower over the other man,

"I told you to stay away from my girlfriend." Pete scoffs out something nasty, glancing past Austin to you, "Don't look at her, I'm the one talkin' to you."

"She's the one who can't seem to stay away from me. Maybe you need a tighter leash on your cat."

You're not sure what Austin planned to do with this confrontation but you can tell whatever it was goes straight out the window with that comment. You know right before it happens that Austin's going to hit him, a sharp noise leaving your lips as his fist connects with Pete's cheekbone. The force of it knocks Pete right back of his heels and into the pool, water splashing up over the sides. There's murmuring of people around them, someone laughing, but the party doesn't stop. Regardless of how this feels because you're at the center of it, you know this isn't the first Hollywood party in which a fight has broken out and it won't be the last. Austin knows the host personally—he'll understand.

You reach for your boyfriend's arm, gently tugging him back, "C'mon."

Austin lingers by the pool side as Pete emerges from the water, holding onto his face. It takes a moment for you to get him to really listen and then you're both moving towards the patio exit. It's a short walk around the house to where the car is parked but that doesn't bother you, even in heels, you need to stretch your legs and Austin needs to let off steam. He's quiet, simmering, the hand he hit Pete with flexing his fingers. He lets out a short breath out of his nose, unlocking the car when you manage to reach it but you don't get inside yet, just lean against the passenger door to take oxygen deep into your lungs.

"Your fingers aren’t broken are they?" You ask after a moment, curling your hair around your ear. You're mostly kidding but...you know it was a hard hit.

Austin shakes his head, pocketing the keys and taking a look at his knuckles, "No," His voice is a bit gruff but you can tell he's really working on softening it, attempting to let go of his anger, "But Pete's nose might be."

"You did not have to do that," You say quickly and Austin's voice is firm as he talks over the tail end of your sentence,

"Yes I did."

He doesn't even know what happened and you're not sure you want to tell him, not at the risk of him walking back into the party to confront Pete again. You cross your arms over your chest, biting on the inside of your cheek for a few moments as the warm air settles around you. The sound of crickets hum mixed with muffled beats of music from the house and traffic a street over. You don't want to let this ruin your night but there's leftover adrenaline puttering through your veins and you can feel your body beginning to shake. You hate that you've taken self-defense classes, that you've been through similar things before and it all ends the same way—you feeling afraid and guilty and pathetic. Some valid feelings, some not.

You run your fingers underneath your right eye even though tears haven't fallen yet, beading on your eyelashes, "I hate that I feel like this," You admit, sniffling, "You know I—I know that it isn't my fault but—" You can't get the frustrated words to leave your lips, a choked noise slipping out instead.

Austin takes a step forward, gently cupping your cheek, "Shh," He whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, "There's no but's about it, Y/N. I'm this fucking close to goin' back in there, I got plenty more to say."

"Don't," You manage to get out, your arms moving to wrap around his waist. Your fingers gather up his shirt into your hands, grounding yourself, "Don't leave me."

Austin's body goes stiff but it's gone a moment later and his arms fold you into his chest, keeping you close underneath his chin, his hands moving up and down your back, "I'm here, m'not goin' anywhere."

The sentiment mixed with his touch is enough to break you wide open, leftover emotions and panic and fear slipping right out of you. Once a few tears fall, the sobbing starts, something unlatches in your chest keeping you together and you just fall apart against him. Your legs and knees feel weak but Austin keeps you upright, squeezing you tightly, pressing his lips against your temple and continuously working his hands across your shoulders and back, through your hair. He's quiet other than the occasional 'shh', attempting to comfort you in the best way he can, just by being there. But it's more than enough, it's exactly what you needed. He pulls back just a little and cups your cheeks, removing tear tracks off your skin,

"Try and breathe baby, take one in."

You struggle through it but manage, leaning back into Austin's chest. You hide your face in his neck for a few moments, breathing him in, attempting to right yourself so you can just...get in the car with him, go home. You hear a set of footsteps approach and god, you hope it's not Pete, but then you hear Peg's voice,

"Hey Austin, is she okay?"

You shift quickly, giving her a watery smile as Austin replies, "She's alright, I got her—thanks Peg."

"Oh hun," She must have made a trip to her garage because she's carrying a bottle of wine, "Can I get you water or anything?"

You shake your head, wiping your face again and you really appreciate the concern but you feel like you can barely hold yourself upright, let alone convey gratitude. You're glad that she doesn't ask if this has anything to do with Pete ending up in her pool, either, you're sure that's all over the party by now. Luckily Austin's there, his hand gently on your shoulder,

"Thank you, we're just gonna head home. Tell Rickson I'll see him next week."

She nods and gives you one last look before turning to walk back towards her house. You swallow, leaning up from off the car and Austin opens the door for you. Before you can get in, he gently clasps your arm so he has your attention. Tipping your chin with his fingers, he presses a long kiss to your cheek,

"I love you." Austin murmurs and somehow, despite how the night has turned, makes all the difference in how you're feeling.

--

Home is quiet in somehow the worst way. You’ve got a pounding headache, at the very least, and you can still feel the gentle pulsing of the music playing at Rickson’s house in your veins. You can sense that Austin wants to ask, talk, but it’s the last thing you want to do. You’re trying to do your best to erase it from your mind, from muscle memory, to pretend tonight was completely normal and fun right up until you used to the bathroom. But you know that won’t last forever. Austin is giving you a respectable amount of space but…it makes sense that he wants to know, for you to tell him.

“Can you give me a few minutes?” You ask as you toe off your shoes once you get inside the apartment.

Austin nods softly, his hand trailing along your arm before he pulls away and locks the front door.

You walk into your bathroom and you hate that you find yourself upset because...as you look at yourself in the mirror, there's no noticeable difference. You expected...actually, you have no idea what you expected. No one would know unless you told them—there's no physical injuries to speak to what you've gone through tonight. Nothing that lends to the fear or frustration of Pete cornering you and attempting to manhandle you into the bathroom to—

You grip the sink for a few moments, swallowing down a bout of nausea.

Quickly changing your clothes, you also take your makeup off and try to feel like yourself again. You're not sure what'll help that—a cup of tea? A hot shower? Crawling into bed? All of them seem like valid options and yet you're too exhausted to make any specific choices. Instead, you find Austin in the apartment as he gives you space, sitting down next to him on the couch. He's in a pair of joggers, white t-shirt, hair a bit unkempt from running his hands through it. He looks over at you but doesn't touch, waits for you to initiate contact. It's small, thoughtful things like that that really solidify why you love him so much. You inch closer and lean into his side and with that he wraps an arm around your shoulders, drawing and keeping you close, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I know this is a stupid question, but are you okay?"

A ghost of a smile tugs at your lips because you understand where he's coming from. It's not a stupid question because he cares about you and wants to know but it feels...sort of superfluous at the same time. There are no words that really fit properly.

Running a hand over the side of your face, you turn a bit in his embrace to look at him as you speak, "I just have brush burns on my knees because I—I tripped on the carpet when I was rushing downstairs. That's like—" You trail off, unexpected emotion hitting you outright in your chest. You scoff out a light sound and Austin threads his fingers through your hair, "That's it, you know?" Your voice cracks with frustration and you hope that you don't have to explain because you're not sure how to find the energy to do that.

Austin understands though, of course he does. The brutality of what you went through tonight, the vulnerability, the violation, and all that's physically left behind is red and sore knees. It royally fucks with your head because it feels like it somehow devalues your experience, even though you know that's not true? You don't need to be bruised and bloody to ‘justify’ that something happened to you.

“Do you want to report him?” He asks after a moment and…for some reason that question surprises you. Given what happened at the pool, you figured he’d insist on it. Though, it’s not exactly off brand, either, for Austin to ask your opinion.

You lift his hand that’s resting on your knee, running your thumb over his knuckle. They’re a bit red, sore looking, “I don’t know,” You admit, “He didn’t…” You trail off, trying to think of the best way to put this.

Austin squeezes your fingers of the hand you’re holding. “He assaulted you, Y/N.”

You swallow, “Well, nowhere you can see.” And you know that’s a frustrating response, but doesn’t make it any less true, “You got this film coming up too and the last thing I want is for bad publicity to—”

“I don’t care about that,” Austin replies quickly, lacing your fingers together and bringing your hands to his lips. He presses a kiss to your thumb, “I care about you and whatever decision you want to make.”

You take in a short breath, warmth blooming in your chest at Austin’s sentiments. They mean a lot—they mean everything, “You know he’s probably reporting you for punching him in the face.” And your voice is light, slightly joking.

Austin scoffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes a little, “I’d love to see him try.”

Huffing out a small sound, you shake your head, because you definitely wouldn’t. Regardless, you suppose Austin is right, something needs to be done about Pete. Afterall, you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you said nothing and he did something else to another girl at a party.

You’re not sure anything will one hundred percent come from it, reporting him? But you have to try.

You lift your hand to cup Austin’s cheek, running your thumb along the bone there, “Thanks for everything tonight, even before the Pete stuff.”

He shakes his head and tightens his arm around your shoulder, tugging you a bit closer until you’re seated on his lap. You know that there’s nothing to quite ‘thank’ him for but…you know you wouldn’t have been able to get through it without him. You stretch your legs out, getting comfortable against his chest.

You’re perfectly content to spend the rest of the night there and apparently, so is Austin. He cups your cheek after a moment and kisses you, keeping you as close as he can to his body.

[clonehub]

Someone pointed out how the ISB informant stood out so badly, and I'd argue that none of the ISB people blended in on Ferrix.

Dedra went out in this deep red hooded cloak with the hood pulled up. I honestly don't think I've seen other people wear hooded cloaks or where their hoods that often on Ferrix.

Sidebar: Cinta knew better than to do that (although she was also one of the few to have her hair totally lose iirc. Most of the women I think tied theirs back, like bix I think). Her first fit on Ferrix had the same mustard yellow that was common in the town when we first saw it, but thinking of the finale now I feel like there were a lot more reds and oranges besides what the marching band and daughters of Ferrix wore.

Dedra stood out. And even beyond that that beige trenchcoat? Makes her stand out. The ISB people couldn't seem to move away from sharp, straight cuts in their outfits.

Karn and the other guy whose name I'm forgetting were at first wearing hats that didn't match their outfits color wise. And then they switched them on the transport. But again I feel like if I looked back at that scene and compared them, something about his and Karns outfits wouldn't blend quite well with the rest of Ferrix. At least they got the popularity of hats right.

[jadelotusflower]

Stargate rewatch: 1x20 Politics

We pick up right where the last episode left off, Daniel getting his shoulder wound treated and trying to explain the alternate reality to his sceptical team.

It’s funny to see the team not really believing Daniel because it’s still early in the run, whereas later on any of them could say the weirdest shit happened and the rest of them would just roll with it no questions asked.

Jack: “And you were there, and you were there, and there’s no place like home.” Daniel: “As a matter of fact, you were there.” Heh. Is Daniel just frustrated or did he not get the Wizard of Oz reference? Works either way.

I’m curious how the team thinks Daniel got shot by a staff weapon if it was all a dream though.

“Yes but the defining event, the death of Ra, took place in both worlds.” A bit of a logic leap by Daniel but hey, it’s what he does.

This is a clip show. I give SG-1 a lot of credit for actually making an effort with their clip shows, always building them around an in-universe plot to give context and cause. They’re still annoying to watch in these days of binging, but they’re as successful as they can be.

Written by Brad Wright (not including excerpts) and directed by Martin Wood.

“How’s our boy?” I find this very cute? Hammond really is the mama duck to SG-1’s ducklings, the epitome of restrained affection.

His absolute and obvious disdain for Samuels is also a real treat. He rolls his eyes!

Samuels is played by Robert Wisden, who was also briefly in Smallville as Chloe's father Gabe. Both shows were based in Vancouver, and both ran for ten seasons, so there's quite the guest star crossover.

In a private meeting with Jack, Hammond goes from “this is what I look like when I’m not laughing, Colonel” to almost laughing when Jack cracks another joke. I love Hammond so much.

I think Ronny Cox as Kinsey is actually the longest running villain in the entire show? Apophis finally bites it in season 5, but Kinsey makes it all the way to season 8.

“And this must be the drain through which the money flows” is such a great line for a pontificating blowhard politician, as is his hypocritical speech. You immediately know who Kinsey is, and you hate him even though he’s actually right about a lot of stuff.

“Oh you’re right, we’ll just upload a computer virus into the mothership.” lol, the shade at Devlin/Emmerich here.

We get a date for the Chulak mission - 10 February (presumably) 1997. The computer in the previous episode indicated it was December 1997 so assuming time was the same in the alternate universe, it's been approximately 11 months since the pilot which seems about right.

The purpose of the mission is described as “to rescue both Dr Jackson’s wife and her brother, and determine the Goa’uld threat” which is the first mention we’ve had of Sha’re and Skaara in a while.

lol, Jack looking to Sam to give the correct pronunciation of Goa’uld because he doesn’t want to.

Lt Colonel “secondary objective” Samuels being the one to read from Jack’s report about Skaara being chosen really twists the knife.

“Because what is right cannot be measured by strength.” Great Teal’c line.

Argos gets discussed and it’s mentioned that SG-2 made recent contact with them - a nice little background aspect of the show that they do check in on the worlds they’ve visited from time to time.

Much is made of the lack of benefit to the Stargate program - guess that wonder drug from Emancipation didn’t pan out? Or maybe everyone just wants to forget that episode happened.

Sidebar - with all the clips it’s obvious that Daniel’s hair has been getting longer throughout the season - irl because Michael Shanks’ hair was shorter and was growing it out as filming progressed to get that Daniel look, but my headcanon in universe is that Sha’re used to trim it for him on Abydos, and since her abduction he can’t bring himself to get it cut

There’s an ongoing metaphor by Kinsey for the Stargate being a Pandora’s Box that’s kind of apt, the box (jar) being a gift from the gods intended to punish mankind after Prometheus gifted them fire, with humanity as Pandora, eternally curious and unable to resist peeking inside.

The show never had a Goa’uld character who took on the persona of Prometheus, Epimetheus, or even Pandora, which was kind of a missed opportunity.

Samuels the slimeball is “sorry it had to end like this” and Hammond rightly tells him to gtfo.

Nice crossfade, Mr Wood.

The Stargate shut down, the threat of an imminent attack - all in all, a good setup going into the season finale!

[sroloc--elbisivni]

(Another one from Whispering Forest :D This entire scene was breathtaking)

The woman in a grand kusode made of living scarlet maple leaves seated on a mountain as though it was the dais of her audience hall and looking out over the valley was an unfamiliar feature of the terrain. Her hair was swept around her like a wild wave and her face was smooth as a porcelain mask. Her name came to him like this was a dream.

“Aki-Onna-sama.”

“Miyamoto Usagi,” she said, still watching the valley. “You freed me once, when your life was at risk and you could have fled.”

Usagi searched his memory. “I’m sorry. I don’t recall this.”

“Mortals rarely do, and you were still a child then. But I owe you a debt. Witness.”

Send me up to 500 words from a fic and I will give you my director's commentary on it!

ahhhhhhhh aki-onna!!! okay i GOTTA get photos for this hang on--

these are the two actual looks we get at Aki-onna in the one Usagi Yojimbo story she appears in. (note baby usagi in the lower left of the right picture.) that's "Autumn." it was one of the first stories I read, because it's the fourth one in Volume One of the Usagi Yojimbo saga. I think this is about the point at which the switch in my brain got firmly flipped and i went 'oh i'm IN THIS in this.' it's still one of my favorites, and it's the first UY story i read that really went full speed ahead on 'this is a world of monsters and magic.' (there's an argument to be made that the whole thing is a hallucination usagi had but i think that's a boring explanation.) I knew from the beginning that this story was going to be leaning into autumn vibes, and i put together pretty quickly that if I was making it a theme she was the perfect character to incorporate. especially since this whole fic is my psyop to get people to read the comics.

originally I thought she'd be like....an information source, someone who provided a key detail to crack the whole thing open. she was supposed to show up between mikey getting attacked in the woods and the forest getting set on fire. at some point i realized she worked much better as part of the climax.

true story, before i wrote her into this and double checked my information, I genuinely thought Aki-Onna was an existing mythological personage Sakai had adapted into the comic. and then I tried to research her and every single english source i found just went straight back to the comics (it's possible that i'm talking out of my ass here and there's a mythology of an autumn lady that hasn't been translated to english that sakai picked up somewhere else.) there's the yuki-onna, a type of yokai like beautiful women who lead people to die in snowstorms, but autumn personified as a woman who can be imprisoned to stop the changing seasons...she's an original. i love her. she hasn't recurred since, and I don't think she ever will--I don't actually think canon Aki-Onna owes Usagi a debt. she's above and beyond him. it made for a convenient way to get her in the story, though, and an extra convenient way to see all the action of the climax. it was important to me that even though it's technically a deus ex machina, she herself is doing very little--she's holding back the rain until the moment where it will have the most impact, and she's letting Usagi see what he's brought about. every other character who has come up in this story has fought to get things to where they are. she's just stopping by.

i loved describing her, too, trying to convey this sense of OTHERWORLDLINESS that her image gives after you've gotten used to anthropomorphism. she gets compared to a force of nature and something inhuman, and is placed in an impossible setting. I picked that paragraph apart and put it back together several times to try and make sure the narration flowed because i wanted it to be all impact, nothing where the reader had to think about words. (fun research sidebar: this section is where i realized that 'kimono,' while a term in existence at the time, would not have been used to refer to most common formal garments--we get kusode instead. went back after this and edited leo being mean and hot scene accordingly.) in the same spirit of "she's just stopping by" and "everything about her needs to make an impact", she only has four lines in the entire story. which is! SOMETHING! when two of them are also the only exposition non-comics readers are going to get on her presence!!!!

i loved this scene for the imagery, and getting to draw into another part of the comics that meant a lot to me, and also for the way I got to make it the buy-in for the cutting between scene. it led into the scene that changed everything about the way I had been telling this story so far, and brought together everything--I had to do it in a way that made people want to come along with me. it's wonderful to hear you liked it!!!

[petesbubblebutt]

2, and also 6 about "the mortifying ordeal of falling in love" thank you bun <3

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

Yeah I’m just gonna expose the whole list 😂😭 absolutely no one should be surprised and yes, this is very accurate

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [insert fic] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself? (Specifically about “Mortifying ordeal”)

So i originally wrote Mortifying ordeal as a twitfic and then it was for vegaspete week back in September. I actually had a SIGNIFICANT amount more outlined but I got so much anxiety about the pressure of finishing the fic I ended it & marked it as complete. (I was dealing with some big IRL stuff & stress & needed to table having a big project/expectations.)

I have been considering circling back and writing the other outlined scenes, but I will drop a scene I actually wrote and is in the doc and never published.

The first time Vegas shows up unannounced Pete is actually down at the training circuit, running laps and working himself through the gauntlet. Pete is so engrossed in what he is working on that he doesn’t notice Vegas is behind him until Vegas is right behind him.

Pete reacts on instinct.

He grabs Vegas by the wrist and slams him down on the ground, only realizing a second later that it’s Vegas.

“Oh fuck,” Pete gasps, throwing a hand over his mouth. “Khun Vegas—”

Vegas to Pete’s surprise just starts laughing, his hand over his heaving chest as he tries to catch his breath. “Fuck Pete, that was actually kind of hot.”

Pete winces and leans down to grab Vegas’s hand in an attempt to pull him to his feet. Instead of taking the help Vegas instead swings his leg out and knocks Pete to the ground, taking advantage of the position to climb on top of him and pin his hands over his head. Pete struggles against the grip and manages to break free, ensuing an impromptu wrestling match between the two of them.

Pete has the advantage — he is shirtless where Vegas is in one of his expensive silk blouses, and he is adept at getting out of holds like this — but Vegas is more determined to pin Pete down. After a few tense minutes Vegas finally has Pete in a position he can’t break free of.

“Vegas,” Pete gasps, but is cut off when Vegas kisses him. Pete stops struggling and kisses Vegas back, flushing at how much he missed Vegas’s touch. This time Vegas seems much more eager to please, kissing down Pete’s neck and his sweaty chest, pausing to suck on one of his nipples. There is an illicit current that anyone could walk in at any time and this only adds to Pete’s arousal. He digs his hands in Vegas’s hair — taking a brief moment to marvel at how soft it is under his touch — and groans when Vegas wraps his mouth around Pete’s aching cock.

Pete’s hips buck up into the heat of Vegas’s mouth and he can’t help the groan that falls from his lips, his body shuddering with pleasure. Vegas seems determined to make a point and keeps Pete pinned to the ground as he swallows him down to the base, his throat squeezing around his sensitive tip.

His orgasm takes him by surprise and he shudders under Vegas’s touch, going completely boneless and punch drunk. Vegas moves up to kiss Pete with a smirk, his hand wrapping around Pete’s throat for good measure.

“How about that, hm?” Vegas asks, licking up Pete’s jaw.

Pete grins back, all teeth and cheek and sass and dimples. “A solid seven out of ten for effort but a three out of ten for forethought and planning. I could have hurt you—”

Vegas snarls and cuts Pete off by constricting his air, rolling his hips and hard cock against Pete’s stomach. “You’re going to regret that. Your ratings are rigged, and I’ll prove you wrong.”

Vegas does in fact get back at Pete for this by fucking him long and slow into the floor until he is crying for release, and several times more before he finally lets Pete come again.

They don’t get caught, much to Pete’s disappointment. A solid nine out of ten, but Pete would rather die than admit that to Vegas.

Who knows, maybe when I’m done with darling domination and eyes on me (and working on FINALLY POSTING the 23k of murdering lovers that has been withering away in Google docs for months) I’ll be able to return to mortifying ordeal and write the follow up conclusion

[yourlunarspice]

Hiiii! Hope you're doing well! 💫

For the writing asks...

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

4. What detail in [Heaven and Earth Between Us] are you really proud of?

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

I'm doing great, thanks for asking, Kiya! I just had my one-year anniversary with my boyfriend, so I've been super happy since then! I hope you're doing well too!

I got a little carried away with my answers, so I'm putting them under a Read More 😅

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

Tags Contain Spoilers (69)

Not Beta Read (23)

Kidnapping (21)

Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot (17)

Angry Bakugou Katsuki (13)

Lol, I think they mostly are accurate. The 'Not Beta Read' tag isn't applicable anymore, since I share pretty much everything with my beta reader. I'm a big fan of kidnapping in whumpy stories, especially if unconsciousness (knocked out, fainted, drugged, etc.) plays a role. It just tickles all the right parts in my brain. And whenever I write Bakugou, I try to keep him as in-character as possible (my beta reader has told me that I swear more and get angry more easily whenever I write anything substantial in Bakugou's perspective). I just try to get into the mindset of whatever perspective I'm writing for, because I've found the writing comes easier that way.

4. What detail in [Heaven and Earth Between Us] are you really proud of?

Spoilers ahead!

I'm really proud of that entire fic, to be honest! I spent a lot of time brainstorming all the different minutiae in this world, from the celestial rules (about each god's powers, limitations, etc.) to the names and their meanings and even to the playlist I made for it.

But I think the detail I'm most proud of would be each god's divine form. Toshihiro’Máni's divine form was inspired by these gifs (although I can't for the life of me remember where they're from). I tried to stay true to the human character's design as well as incorporated aspects from the gifs. The end result was:

His eyes began to glow silvery white as his skin darkened to an indigo blue, reminiscent of the night sky. Wings extended from his shoulder blades, his feathers every shade of purple, blue, and black anyone could dream of.

His hair grew until it created a halo around his head, waving slowly despite the lack of wind.

Crystals grew from his skin, reflecting the moonlight in all its glory.

I didn't have anything to reference for Katsu-Misæ's divine form, but I tried to imagine how a sun god would look, especially if he was very angry. I ended up liking his design least out of all the gods, but I still like it:

His skin darkened to a fiery orange as his eyes glowed blood-red. His teeth sharpened into fine points while his hair began to burn with an ethereal flame.

I imagined Dabi's divine form as super menacing, but I had fun with it. Basically, he was just a huge skeleton with blood-red hair and eyes glowing black, which I think anyone would be terrified of, lol

They both were engulfed in blue fire that felt so cold it burned. The man’s skin, white and purple alike, blackened before shedding, revealing pearly-white bone. His hair turned blood-red and his eyes darkened until they seemed to glow black.

Finally, we come to Kageki'xəyal (I've been pronouncing his name as kag-ehkee-SHEY-all, but that's probably wrong). I wanted to incorporate aspects of Monoma's Quirk, and debated between him being the god of shadows or god of reflections before finally settling on the former. My beta reader sent me a picture I used as the basis for his divine form. I am low-key in love with his design

The whites had darkened into an inky black, a stark contrast to his gray irises. His skin had darkened as well, settling into a slate gray, while his hair was shockingly white. His UA uniform had been replaced with a long, flowing robe made of pure shadow, fringed with dark purple and indigo. Gripped in his hand was a dark cane, the top of which was a reflective ball shielded by two black spikes.

I had a lot of fun with his new name, too. 'Kageki' comes from the Japanese elements for 'shadow' and 'hope', while 'Xəyal' literally means 'phantom', making his name Phantom Shadow, as a sort of callback to his hero name. He only has a cane bc I thought it'd look cool (and it's totally in-character for Monoma to want to twirl it around while he's acting super extra).

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

This is such a broad questionnnn! For the AUs I write, either they're mostly canon compliant (example 1, example 2, example 3) or they're wildly deviating from canon (example 1, example 2, example 3) ((Heaven falls into both categories)). As for reading, I'm always a sucker for Soulmate AUs, but it's so overdone. Another really specific AU idea I love is switched minds or personalities, especially if the affected parties try to keep it a secret from everyone.

Thanks again for the asks, Kiya! Sorry about the metric ton of information I just dumped on you 😅

From this ask game

[worldcatlas]

SNW: Children of the Comet

Spoiler warning: some!

We’ve got a promising start right out of the gate on Strange New Worlds episode two, with some cool-looking aliens on a desert planet in full head-to-toe costumes. This is what I come here for.

Peak sci-fi.

Both aliens wear full-length robes in shades of orangey-brown, with structured hoods that may or may not have built-in hats. The taller alien wears a robe that appears to be made of wool felt or another heavy natural fabric, cut and layered in looping twists that give it an interesting, organic appearance. On the right, the smaller alien wears simpler, lighter robes, but with a beautiful beaded tabard that covers their chest and shoulders and trails all the way down to the ground, creating a similarly “busy” look. Both outfits give the impression of being lovingly handmade by people who haven’t invented replicators yet.

Oh yeah, the computer could whip that up in about ten seconds flat.

However, we only get a brief glimpse of our new friends before the story moves up to the Enterprise, where Cadet Uhura has been invited to dinner in the captain’s cabin. Of course, this can only mean one thing: full dress uniform. Right? 

As Uhura narrates in the turbolift, we can see her standard issue formal wear consists of a jacket with a surprisingly 24th-century-style band of colour across the shoulders. This is bordered by a strip of black fabric and a thin line of gold piping, above a tasteful charcoal grey for the rest of the body and sleeves. The matching trousers are also grey, with another stripe of division colour down the leg.

The Starfleet equivalent of a tux and bow tie.

…all of which makes her look mighty silly when Lieutenant Ortegas reveals the dress code is “BBQ casual.” Which is also great, as we get to see Erica’s adorable midriff-baring athleisure look.

Dude. WTH??

Fortunately, Captain Pike isn’t bothered, having perfected his own “Grill Dad” aesthetic for the occasion. He welcomes the ladies in a muscle-hugging blue sweater, worn beneath a dark grey apron that somehow also looks tailored to his physique.

Seriously, sir, please get those delts under control.

As dinner goes on, we get a better look at the details on the dress uniform. The red fabric on Uhura’s jacket is decorated with tiny Starfleet deltas, and we can see that the collar is made of a ribbed fabric, which is a bit of an interesting choice for a formal garment. We also get a good look at her gorgeous gold sunbeam earrings, which coordinate nicely with the gold piping and combadge.

Sorry, I’m an autumn, does the uniform come in rose gold?

Finally, we never get a good view of the whole ensemble, but Nurse Chapel’s sleeveless top and joggers are my favourite look of the evening. I initially thought this was another jumpsuit, with the high neck and chunky zipper down the front, but no, just a very cool shirt and pants. I love the monochrome palette for a “future-casual” look, especially with Chapel’s platinum hair.

I am hereby starting a petition for casual Fridays on the Enterprise.

Next, the costume and prop departments join together like Tuvix as our heroes change into EV suits for an away mission. We get a great look at these heavily-accessorized costumes as Spock, Uhura, La’an, and Kirk (not that one) heroically slow-walk toward the camera. Like the other uniforms, the EV suits indicate the wearer’s department by colour, here on the front panel in the middle of the chest. Each suit appears sculpted and tailored to the wearer, which is probably no sweat in the 23rd century, but certainly represents an impressive amount of work in the 21st.

Do they have to keep those stocked in every colour? What if an away mission is all blue guys? I have questions.

Sidebar, as Nurse Chapel helps the away team prepare, we can see Spock is sporting some absolutely WILD sideburns in this episode.

It’s okay, she thinks they’re cute.

The EV suits also include these strappy thigh holsters for a phaser, which are weirdly military-ish for a Definitely Not Military organization like Starfleet. I would be curious to know how much of the design is influenced by the need for modern TV to be Cool And Sexy.

Starfleet got their gear this year from a police auction.

The overall design of the suits is very sleek, with lots of little details that add polish, like the LED lights on the chest and Batman-esque tool belts. Even the combadge is a metal disc built in to the front panel. These elements really sell them as functional space suits, which is… a bit of a problem, as they look centuries beyond anything the 1701 had by Kirk’s time.

Somehow, they got a downgrade along the way. (Image from TOS “The Naked Time”)

Oh, and they have jetpacks. Obviously.

Obviously.

The episode ties up with our pals back in the desert, allowing us a closer look at the wonderful materials work here. With the hoods down, the costumes’ built-in hats seem to have disappeared, which is fine because we get to see the adult alien’s cool dinosaur head. If you look closely, her shirt has a notch at the back of the collar to account for the spines.

Maybe the head spikes explain the shredded fabric too…

Overall, I really enjoyed the contrast in this episode between the perfectly-replicated clean lines of the Starfleet uniforms and these natural, organic-looking garments that are full of detail and movement. It feels rare to see something like this in a world of angular, sterile starships, and – although I love metallic fabric more than life itself – it’s refreshing.

Refreshing like space rain on an alien desert.

On the other hand, colour is nice too, and these guys are still in the Brown Age. I think I’ll stick with the replicator.

Crew credits: The Costume Supervisor on this episode was Karen Lee,  the Costume Consultant was Gersha Phillips, and the Assistant Costume Designers were Sarah Goodwin, Heather English, and Emily Jasper.

[mass-effect-mod-fallout-435]

This Fallout: New Vegas Mod Brings Mass Effect’s Jack Into the Wasteland

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥 Welcome to my great big collection of Mass Effect mods! Leave a comment! Do you mean the Buff Femshep mod on Nexus? BTW your work isnt going unappreciated your adding new life to a great game and i love it!!! This is a link to Diana Shepard with Summerfoam hair. I like it however, so it has stayed. Looks like the texture. Is there anything for Mass Effect 2? I recently got the deluxe edition of ME2 on sale and would like to get some new hairs for the game. Has anyone done that? Got the mesh right, but not the textures. I found a couple in nexus but one of them was a hideous sparkly recolor and the other was a longsleeved dress. So i guess im missing something cause i cant seem to import custom meshes. Im using 3dmax with actor X exporter Maybe you may know why im having this problem? I tried importing it to ME3 Explorer as a psk and upk, but still none worked. The mesh just wont appear, its like i cant save custom meshes in psk. The thing is that when i import the custom psk into max again the model appears just fine. Hi, could you tell me what page to use to install mods mass effect 1 2 and 3 because I can not do with Nexus. I use nmm mods that require no real input from me, so like you i am learning how to use the above tools. I can use add bigger for diff files but I get error saying its not v8u8 for norm files. I have a question though. I decided that a simple hair mod would be a good start for me. Okay, so I absolutely love your mods. I have my eye on about five that I want right now. Please let me know. The mesh shows up fine but the. The textures were very dark, the hair is almost black even though it is dark brown — is this right? Ok, I worked this out now. I read that something somewhere has been updated which causes textures to not be loaded like they were something like that. But whatever the cause, I just went in and edited the hair colour in gibbed made it a lot lighter and now Shep has brown hair again, as I intended :. Where do you get the head morphs for the male sheps a lot of the ones listed in the best looking article arent active anymore bioware shut down those threads. Will you make your hair mods compatible with it if it is? Your email address will not be published. Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment. Search for:. Pls,add some guides about messhing. Editing meshes from another games. Thanks for the tutorials they have been of great help. Things get real wonky when you import PSK! I chose your Toyger hair mod. Thanks, your mods are fantastic! Any suggestions…? Leave a Comment Cancel reply Your email address will not be published. This div height required for enabling the sticky sidebar.

[blainesebastian]

mutually assured satisfaction (pt6)

words: 3,603 ship: austin butler x reader summary: reader’s agent approaches her with a PR stunt to date austin butler and promote both their careers. a mapped out plan, an electric relationship–what could possibly go wrong?   notes: masterlist is on my sidebar :) thanks for any comments, reblogs, likes and asks! always appreciated warnings: not exactly SFW tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @kittenlittle24, @slowsweetlove, @namoreno, @strokesofstokes, @callthedarknessdown, @kibumslatina, @al-co-hol-youlater, @frogoerson, @dancer4j 

You don’t hear anything back from Austin, which…you suppose shouldn’t surprise you with how you left things. You’re a fucking mess and if you were him, you’d cut your losses too. After all, just as you said, Austin isn’t your boyfriend—this relationship isn’t real. He has no obligation to you or be here for what you’re going through. Regardless of the words he said before he left your apartment, he can change his mind, you wouldn’t even blame him.

Stepping into your kitchen in your black dress for the funeral, you putter around to help your parents get ready for the wake, trying to count down the time on the clock of this terrible day. Your mother, Grace, reaches for your arm and squeezes to get your attention. Handing over a cup of hot mint tea, she gives you a small smile, fixing a curl near your cheek.

“Why don’t you go sit for a while—we’re almost done here, then we’ll head out.”

You swallow and lean back against the counter to put honey into your tea, “It’s better if I keep moving.”

She nods in understanding, pushing her hair over her shoulder, “How’s that boy you were seeing? Austin? He seemed really nice when we met him over Facetime the few times we called.”

This has to be the very last thing you want to talk about, somehow the mention of Austin making everything feel that much sharper, painful. You of course didn’t tell your parents about the PR relationship because they’d worry or worse, scold you, but it was impossible not to tell them about your so-called boyfriend when they could read or see things online, when they called and Austin was so often there.

“He uh…” You’re unsure of what to say for a few moments, not wanting to get into everything here, now, and yet at the same time just wanting to rip the band-aid off. Austin isn’t here because nothing between you was honest, it was just heightened emotions and physical attraction given the close proximity. That’s it.

“You didn’t break up, did you?”

And God, you can’t do it—you can’t tell her the truth about what’s really going on or how you felt so consumed with grief and loss that you pushed him away and now you don’t know what to do. How you’re confused and conflicted and you’re supposed to go back to reality in two days and deal with articles and rumors and real feelings that somehow complicate and fuck up everything.

You open your mouth to say something when the doorbell rings and you nearly sigh in relief because, “I’ll get it.” Your father is upstairs getting ready anyways and you need to leave this conversation immediately.

Shaking your head, you move to open the front door without even looking in the peep hole—and nearly melt right into the floor when you see its Austin. You blink once, twice, a breath catching in your throat because you don’t quite believe what you’re looking at. He’s standing there in a pair of black slacks and pullover sweater to go with it, the black booties you’ve seen him wear hundreds of times and a blazer. He’s got one duffle bag in his hands and his eyes are the warmest thing about him, that welcoming blue.

You just kinda stand there, unsure of how to even talk until the words finally burst forth, “What are you—how did—”

Austin takes a step forward, “Christina.”

Her agent, right, of course. Of course Austin would reach out to her about where you are, not wanting to bother you even though you sent out a series of desperate texts hoping he would reply. You didn’t expect this though, for him to come all the way here, out of his way. He continues to surprise you in the best ways.

There’s this whimpering noise that leaves your mouth that you’ll have to deny even making later as all the pent-up tears that have been on back-burner for today begin filling your eyes. Austin doesn’t waste any time, he moves to wrap you into his arms, drawing you close and squeezing tight. A relieved sigh empties from your mouth, mingled with a soft cry, your hands clinging to his blazer as you bury your face into his chest. The scent of his cologne mixed with something that you’ve come to recognize as inherently Austin.

Once you pull back, you let Austin step inside, running your hands over your cheeks. You didn’t even bother to put on makeup today because you already knew it was going to be like this all day, constantly wiping tears from your face.

“I’m sorry about what I said,” You sniffle, “At my apartment?”

Austin shakes his head, his hand resting on your shoulder, “Don’t even worry about it, I mean it.” He cups your cheek, running his thumb along the skin before pulling back.

Your mother comes around the corner, pausing as she sees both you and Austin. She instantly smiles, moving to greet Austin with half a hug that he quickly accepts. He has to lean down to embrace her, dropping his bag near the door,

“You must be Austin,” Grace squeezes before she pulls back. “I can’t tell you how nice it is to meet you in person—Y/N didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“Just needed to finish things up with work,” Austin lies gently, his eyes slipping over to yours, “But I was always gonna be here. It’s really nice to meet you.”

Grace hums, picking up Austin’s bag to take upstairs. “Well we’re very glad you’re here. I know it means a lot to Y/N.”

You’re so overstimulated by the fact that Austin is standing here in your childhood home, flew here to be with you for your grandmother’s funeral, that you can’t even tell your mom that you can take his bag up to your bedroom. Curling your hair around your ear, you let her pass you to walk upstairs, leaving you and Austin in the soft silence of the foyer.

“I hope it’s okay I just showed up,” Austin says after a few moments, running a hand through his hair. You’re quickly coming to realize it’s a nervous habit of his.

You shake your head, taking a step closer to him. Reaching out a hand to touch his forearm, you squeeze a little. What your mom said was right, you are grateful he’s here.

“No, I meant what I said—I needed you.” And that’s so fucking hard for you to admit outloud, so difficult to let someone in, to feel and appear weak, that you need to depend on someone other than yourself. “I need you.”

Austin cups your cheek, curling your hair back behind your ear, “I’m here—m’not going anywhere.”

And it’s with that guarantee that you allow yourself to be vulnerable.

--

The day is incredibly long, but you figure that’s how it’s supposed to be. The funeral itself goes quickly, which you’re thankful for. Some nice words shared over a ceremony at the cemetery, standing in grass and trying not to let yourself dissolve into crying as the casket is lowered. You’re just thankful that there’s no paps showing up…you were kinda concerned there might be. Some people are always after that one story, that one image that no one else can get. But there’s security and precautions and luckily it seems like no one knows Austin is here either. You’re able to use him as an anchor the whole time, turning into him and closing your eyes as he rests his chin on your head, kisses pressed along your hairline every so often.

The wake at the house is manageable and maybe it’s because you’re busy helping your parents play host that it’s not as painful as you thought to mingle with friends and family of your grandmother and talk about her. You worry at one point that it might be uncomfortable for Austin but he blends in as if he’s always somehow been here, leans right into conversations, helps your parents with odds and ends things that’s mostly getting refills or taking out the trash, and most importantly checks on you without being overbearing. You realize that you don’t think you would have been able to go through today without him.

Letting out a short breath, you smooth your hands over your dress and make your way to the living room to find Austin to take a breather outside. Your teenage cousin is talking to him with hearteyes, definitely a crush, and a soft laugh leaves your lips as you approach,

“Rachel, you mind if I steal Austin for a bit?”

She smiles and nods, her cheeks blushing as Austin looks down at her, “I’ll be back, we can talk about that book you’re reading.” She brightens as if he’s promised her the moon.

Taking Austin’s hand, you walk with him through the house until you exit out of the kitchen back door into a small yard. There’s a swing set there that still works, a small quiet spot that you’ve always enjoyed—tonight’s no different. You grab one of the swings and perch yourself on it, smiling up at Austin.

“Think I’m too tall for this.” He jokes, having to duck his head to sit on the other swing. The metal creaks but easily holds both of them, Austin’s legs almost comically long as he stretches them out so it’s more comfortable.

You hum lightly, gently pushing yourself back and forth, looking up at your childhood home. It’s quiet between you two but not unpleasant, night sounds surrounding you along with the creaking metal, crickets and trees rustling. A small shiver runs down your spine but you enjoy weather like this, slightly crisp at night. You pull the sleeves of your dress down over your hands.

“Thank you again for being here,” You say, looking over at him, “I don’t think I could have done it without you.”

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” He offers you a small smile, “But you’re welcome.”

There’s so much you want to say to him, you’re not sure where to begin. In a few weeks, the PR stunt will be over, you’re supposed to be breaking up. Both of your careers have become bustling because of the relationship—phone calls for interviews, more Instagram and social media followers and interactions, more buzz created about the films you’re acting in. The stars aligned; the plan worked—so why does it feel like you’re somehow losing in the end?

Pushing yourself on the swing a moment, you let a long breath that flutters your lips, “We’re uh…supposed to break up soon.”

Austin purses his lips, the heels of his feet rolling in the grass and shifting himself back and forth. There’s a noncommittal noise that leaves his mouth before, “Right—two weeks?”

Yeah, that sounds right. You’ve kinda lost all sense of time lately, your body aches from lack of sleep and emotional exhaustion. And the endgame of this whole stunt? You’ve just pushed it out of your mind, other things filling your head because you have no idea how to feel about it. It’s like this impending train but neither of them is moving off the tracks.

“What do you wanna do?” You ask, the question hanging in the air.

Despite having an expiration date, they haven’t really formulated how it’s going to happen. Who breaks up with who, is it public or private, how do they get the news to spread and still maintain a decent amount of satisfactional drama? It’s very much a powder keg, capable of going haywire with just the wrong amount of pressure.

“I think…” Austin trails off for a moment, considering what he’s about to say, “I think I wanna make sure you’re alright first, get back home,” He shrugs, “Everythin’ else we can figure out.”

It’s not exactly a non-answer but it’s one you weren’t expecting either. But when he turns to look at you, those soft blue eyes settling on your face, you find yourself nodding. You’re not sure what you even wanted him to say—the set of different responses settle in your belly like lead, none of them satisfactory.

You pick yourself up from the swing and move to stand near him, looking down at his face. He stops moving, his one arm sliding around your waist as you sort of step between his legs. There’s encouragement to sit on his one leg and you do, the swing creaking but holding both of your weight. He smiles up at you, just a soft quirk of his lips, and you kinda like it like this—being a bit taller than him. That height difference he so often has the advantage of.

You lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, nose brushing along the curls of his dirty blonde hair. Austin lets out a short breath that tickles your neck, a small squirming sensation circling in your belly at that, your arm squeezing him around his shoulders. If you could pause time, sit out here with him for the rest of the night, you would.

But you know you can’t—you have to head back inside at some point and you have to fly back home to where reality lives. You just hope that Austin’s right, everything else they can figure out. Together.

--

The week you both get back, you throw yourself into your work, which actually turns out to help a lot. By Friday you’re exhausted, but in a good way, you end up feeling more like yourself. Grieving isn’t linear, there are terrible days for you and in balance there’s some really great ones too. You’re just trying to take things one day at a time, that’s the best way you think you can handle things.

Austin gets invited to a friend’s house party, because of course celebrities have those from time to time, and asks you if you’d like to come with. It’s not on your list of dates leading up to the breakup and he kinda gives this ‘no pressure’ vibe just in case you’re not feeling it. But you think it might be good for you? A party, some drinking, dancing, having a good time? Never hurts to let loose every now and then.

So Austin picks you up and drives, wearing a pair of black jeans, a button denim shirt and those same boots he loves. You’re wearing a little black dress with puffy sleeves, a pair of white booties, your earrings matching. There’s no pressure tonight to be anyone other than themselves and have a good time.

And that’s exactly what you plan on doing.

You take a few selfies with Austin and put them on your Instastory, the likes and comments almost immediate. People enjoy looking at him and you can’t exactly blame them either. His social media footprint isn’t very big but he takes one of the photos and reposts it on his story too—you try not to think about whether he’s doing that for the PR or because he wants to.

Shaking thoughts out of your head, you walk into the beautiful two-story house with him, his arm around your waist as he greets old friends and shakes hands with anyone new that he meets. Your eyes take in the tall ceiling, the pristine white paint, the glass windows overlooking rolling hills and sparkling lights of the city, and a variety of faces from Hollywood—some that you recognize, some that you don’t.

There’s really no rhyme or reason to tonight’s party other than just enjoying it and living in a bit of excess. You know it’s a bit shameful but you can’t help but wanting to throw everything to the wayside tonight, to enjoy your time with Austin, to drink a bit too much and dance, play games.

Having been here for an hour thus far, you certainly have done all the above, planting yourself on Austin’s lap on the couch as he talks to the friend throwing the party. He’s got a beer in his hand while you sip on a refill of some sort of mixed drink that’s too strong but it’s adding to the rose-colored tint you’re beginning to see the room in. Pleasantly tipsy, leaning your back against Austin’s front.

He smells so damn good, a kiss of sweat to his skin, heightening his natural scent and the sandalwood cologne he wears. His arm absently slips around your waist, keeping you in place as his friend asks him about upcoming projects and then dives into one he’s working on. You shift your hips back to get into a more comfortable position, chewing on the straw of your drink and you think it’s your imagination when Austin squeezes your hip.

But then you move again because your leg is falling asleep and Austin definitely tenses underneath you. You’re sitting close enough that you can hear him let out a short breath, even above the thrum of the music, his fingers digging into your side. Your eyes dart down to look at him, his jaw working as he attempts to pay attention and continue the conversation with his friend but…his eyes are a shade darker than usual.

He glances up at you, very quickly, before looking back at his friend and taking a sip of his beer. It’s within that moment that you become very aware of Austin’s body along your own, the heat of his skin, the way his chest feels against your back, the way his waist presses into your legs. And there, just there, you begin to feel heat pulse between your thighs, almost thick like honey. It traps air in your lungs, pulse quickening in your neck and you clear your throat,

“I uh, bathroom,” You say quickly, putting your drink down and crawling off of Austin’s lap to make a beeline towards your destination.

Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears as you close the door, leaning against the sink. You turn the water on and wet your hands, running them along your heated skin—the back of your neck, your cheeks, a brush over your forehead. You have never tried to deny that you’re physically attracted to Austin, of course you are, how could you not be? But then again there’s never quite been a situation like that either—when you could so clearly feel him and the reaction he was having because of you.

Shaking your head, you feel slightly dizzy. Just the alcohol, just the overwhelming proximity of your bodies and the mood of the night, nothing more. There’s a knock on the door,

“One minute!” You call out, slightly annoyed someone is already waiting in line to get in. Doesn’t this place have, like, three other bathrooms this person could go find? You’re not ready to leave yet, not composed to your liking at all.

The knocking doesn’t go away, so you let out a huff and move to yank open the door—and Austin is standing there. He doesn’t say a word, instead walking forward to press you back into the bathroom, the door closing behind him. There’s a brief moment of hesitancy, some shared breathing, Austin drawing his teeth over his lower lip—

And he reaches for you to kiss.

A soft moan leaves your throat almost automatically and the sound alone seems to encourage Austin’s movements, he deepens the kiss, his arms going around you. Your hands slip up and underneath his shirt to feel the heat of his skin and he continues to back you up until you bump into the sink. It’s built into a counter and you’ve never been happier about that as he lifts you up and sets you on the edge, slipping between your legs, your dress hiking a bit up your thighs. The kissing is becoming quick, almost messy, tongues slipping together as you feel him roll his hips against your leg.

You shudder at the sensation, wrapping your legs around him, drawing him in as close as you possibly can. There’s a fire smoldering inside of you, almost too much to bear, hands moving to undo belts and pants and sliding the fabric of your dress up and over your hips. Your head tips back, exposing your neck when Austin slides his hand down and into your underwear, fingers prodding, working you open. His lips find your neck, kissing along your pulse point, and you squeeze him when he maneuvers his hips and slides into you. There’s a moment of no movement, your head practically bumping the mirror and a short laugh leaves your lips.

“Ow,” You crinkle your nose, rubbing the crown of your head.

“You alright?” Austin lets out a breath of a laugh, his one hand rubbing along your shoulders.

You nod, looking down at him, hand moving to brush your thumb along his lower lip, “Don’t stop.” You whisper before kissing him.

And he doesn’t. The movement of your hips are fluid, quick, passionate, it doesn’t take either of you very long to reach your climaxes. When you do, Austin draws you closer and peppers a few kisses along your cheek, jawline, burying his face in your neck. Humming, you press your lips and nose into his shoulder, breathing him in, allowing your eyes to close. Neither of you move for a long moment.

This is not what you meant when you intended on letting loose to have a good time.

--

Only two more parts left! Also working on some requests :) thanks so much for reading! Appreciate all of you.

[bloody-bee-tea]

How about "admit it, you had fun today" mingcheng?

Ikea

This does not only fill the ask prompt, but also the Ikea prompt on the MDZS Bingo.

Nie Mingjue pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels like at this point succumbing to a fit of rage would be the easiest, but he doesn’t want to yell. Not yet, anyway.

“Absolutely not,” he says, his voice tightly controlled, not for the first time and Jiang Cheng hums.

“Mingjue,” he says and Nie Mingjue has to take a deep breath so that he doesn’t lose it right then and there.

“Wanyin,” he gives back, because two can play that game.

“It fits perfectly,” Jiang Cheng tells him for at least the third time in the last five minutes and that’s it.

Nie Mingjue has had enough.

“Just fitting is not enough!” he says, and when a few heads turn their direction, he realizes that he’s speaking way too loudly, but he doesn’t care. He will not allow this. “There is no way in hell we are going to put this monstrosity into our bedroom! Do you even know how much dust there is in the bedroom? This has open shelves, which are bound to gather all the dust! Plus, it’s shiny white, that thing is not coming within ten miles of our bedroom!” he rages, feeling better now that he finally says what he really thinks.

He only realizes belatedly that Jiang Cheng is smiling at him.

“What?” Nie Mingjue snaps out and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“You said ‘our’ and ‘we’,” Jiang Cheng says with a dopey smile on his face and Nie Mingjue immediately deflates, his anger absolutely useless when faced with Jiang Cheng’s happiness.

“Of course I did,” Nie Mingjue gives back, still trying to maintain his frown, because his point stands. “It’s our apartment.”

“It is,” Jiang Cheng softly says and takes a tiny step closer to Nie Mingjue.

He doesn’t outright demand a hug or any physical contact, because he never does, despite Nie Mingjue telling him again and again that it’s okay, and so Nie Mingjue takes the hint and pulls Jiang Cheng into his side. Jiang Cheng perfectly fits under his arm and Nie Mingjue wants to do this forever.

“So, the closet?” Jiang Cheng asks after a minute and Nie Mingjue fights the urge to retreat his arm.

“It’s not even a closet,” he hotly says. “It doesn’t even have doors!”

He only realizes that Jiang Cheng is teasing him when he chuckles lowly and Nie Mingjue loves him so much, it threatens to swallow him whole sometimes.

“Can we please just move on and choose something sensible for the bedroom?” Nie Mingjue asks with a sigh and fights his knee-jerk reaction when Jiang Cheng looks at another totally impractical piece of furniture.

“You’re better doing this on purpose,” Nie Mingjue grumbles and pulls Jiang Cheng along, away from the way too stylish and way too impractical pieces.

“And what if I’m not?” Jiang Cheng asks, following obediently along and Nie Mingjue can see the glint in his eyes, so he knows that Jiang Cheng is just playing with him.

“Because your own apartment is furnished in very sturdy, very sensible, very useful pieces. None of this nonsense you would find here.”

“My mother’s interior designer chose my furniture.”

“Then maybe I should go shopping with him,” Nie Mingjue sighs out and then scrubs a hand down his face. “Tell me again why we can’t just take your closet with us?”

They are moving together into a new apartment at the end of the month, and Nie Mingjue would love to do nothing more than skip all of this. They should just take whatever they like from their own apartments and make it fit somehow. Hell, Nie Mingjue has spent so little time in his own apartment in the last half year that he doesn’t even remember how his bedroom looks. He’s perfectly happy with Jiang Cheng’s furniture.

“Because we want to start building our life together and taking old pieces with us would just ruin the whole fun of that,” Jiang Cheng gives back, with the patience of a saint, because Nie Mingjue has asked this question a lot in the past three hours.

“We can take some old pieces? I mean we already have a completely new kitchen, and most of the living-room, so why not bring something familiar with us for the bedroom?”

“Because you’re just trying to get out of this and I am not having it,” Jiang Cheng shoots back, clearly enjoying this much more than he should and Nie Mingjue knows that he has already lost.

“I want something warm, something sturdy and big. None of this,” he waves a hand at the furniture around him.

“So you just want to go somewhere else,” Jiang Cheng says, trying to hide the fact that he’s laughing at Nie Mingjue.

“I hate Ikea,” Nie Mingjue agrees with feeling and Jiang Cheng bursts out laughing.

He has to laugh so hard that he bends over, trying to steady himself on Nie Mingjue’s arm, and Nie Mingjue would be annoyed, if he wasn’t so happy to see Jiang Cheng like this.

It had taken him a while to be this free around Nie Mingjue when they first got together.

“I love you,” Nie Mingjue says, meaning it with every fibre of his being and Jiang Cheng rights himself to narrow his eyes at Nie Mingjue.

“You better not be proposing in a goddamn fucking Ikea of all places,” he hisses and not for the first time Nie Mingjue wonders if Jiang Cheng did find the ring he’s hiding at home.

“Please,” Nie Mingjue huffs out. “I would rather propose to you in a bathroom than this hellhole.”

“Please don’t do that either,” Jiang Cheng says and pats Nie Mingjue’s arm.

“The bathroom or the proposing?” Nie Mingjue asks, because he can’t help himself.

They did not have a serious talk about marriage yet, after all, and while Nie Mingjue is reasonably sure that Jiang Cheng would say yes to him, there’s always a little bit of doubt.

“The bathroom, you idiot,” Jiang Cheng immediately says and moves in for a short kiss. “I’d love to get proposed to.”

“Hopefully not by some stranger,” Nie Mingjue grumbles, but he slides his hand in Jiang Cheng’s back pocket and keeps him close, brushing his lips over the faint blush on his cheeks.

“You’re a complete moron if you believe there ever could be anyone for me but you, my soul,” Jiang Cheng gives back and leans against Nie Mingjue.

Instead of answering Nie Mingjue only presses a lingering kiss to Jiang Cheng’s hair and then they stand like complete idiots around for a minute or maybe even three.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” Jiang Cheng asks after a while.

“Gods, yes,” Nie Mingjue wholeheartedly agrees and Jiang Cheng chuckles.

“I mean another store, not home,” he teases him and Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes.

“We’re not going home before we have decided on a stupid closet. We’re also not going to have sex until our bedroom is complete,” he adds as an afterthought, whispering the words into Jiang Cheng’s ears and he can feel him shudder.

“That’s so mean, we have a perfectly functioning bedroom in my apartment,” Jiang Cheng whines and Nie Mingjue shrugs.

“No closet, no sex,” he decides and then walks away from Jiang Cheng, leaving him to scramble after him.

“You’re so mean to me.”

“And you like it that way.”

Jiang Cheng’s telling silence is answer enough for Nie Mingjue, who smiles as he makes his way out of Ikea as fast as he can.

They do end up at another store where they find a closet exactly as Nie Mingjue likes it, and even though Jiang Cheng puts up a token protest simply to be difficult, they end up buying it. Jiang Cheng is glowing with happiness when they leave the store.

“Can we please go home now?” Jiang Cheng asks after they paid and Nie Mingjue raises an eyebrow at him.

“If you think we’re having sex tonight you’re mistaken, your Ikea trip sucked all the energy out of me,” he says and while it’s meant as a joke, it’s not completely wrong.

Today has been exhausting and Nie Mingjue is honestly not in the mood for anything more than cuddling.

Jiang Cheng flushes a bit, like he always does when Nie Mingjue speaks so bluntly about sex in public, but he doesn’t complain as he laces their fingers together.

“Honestly, I just want to cuddle on the couch,” Jiang Cheng says, sounding drained himself.

“I can get behind that,” Nie Mingjue agrees and drags Jiang Cheng off to their car.

The ride home is silent and they don’t exchange any words when they change out of their street clothes either and it’s only when they are cuddled up on the couch, Jiang Cheng in Nie Mingjue’s arms and his head on his chest that Jiang Cheng speaks again.

“Admit it, you had fun today,” he says and Nie Mingjue hums in consideration. “Don’t even pretend,” Jiang Cheng says with a light slap to Nie Mingjue’s stomach and Nie Mingjue sighs.

“I hated every second I spent in Ikea,” Nie Mingjue starts, “but I had fun today because we were shopping for our apartment.”

“You’re such a sap,” Jiang Cheng sighs, but he also snuggles closer to Nie Mingjue, so he knows he’s happy about it.

“I would go to Ikea a thousand times if it would make you happy,” Nie Mingjue tells him and it’s not even a lie.

He can endure white and horribly impractical furniture as long as it makes Jiang Cheng laugh like today.

“Mh, it only makes fun if I go with you,” Jiang Cheng mumbles, clearly already sleepy and Nie Mingjue slides them deeper on the couch.

They are just a little bit too old to spend an entire night on the couch like this, but for now that’s okay.

He’ll make sure they get to bed eventually.

“I love you,” Jiang Cheng whispers, apparently his last conscious thought and Nie Mingjue wonders if proposing at breakfast the next day would be too soon.

He figures there’s only one way to find out.

“I love you, too.”

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