#the top of the list is obviously my dad and the second place is the guy who always brought pie when he visited

[grapejuice32]

I hate you, no really, I do

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!reader

Masterlist

Prologue << Part 1 >> Part 2

The first time the two of you hooked up had been at a party at Tannyhill, you had attended it alone, the only reason you had gone being that there would be expensive alcohol present. Rafe had spotted you before you managed to even get onto your second drink and accused you of 'crashing his party' to which you merely scoffed and told him that you didn't see a guest list keeping track of who was and wasn't there so it didn't count as you crashing it.

What you had expected was for him to throw an insult your way, something about you being a Pogue, or just an antagonising comment to try and provoke you. But instead, he laughed, like actually laughed and said 'touche'. Now obviously that surprised you, but what surprised you more was when he asked if you wanted to join him was he pointed to the empty balcony on the second floor of the house. You weren't sure why you nodded, but you did and followed him through the maze like halls of his house till you reached the balcony.

The two of you had stayed up there for the rest of the night, watching as the crowd slowly dispersed as it got later and later, yet you still didn't leave. At the start of the night, his hand had laid next to yours on the railing of the balcony, then his arm was slung over your shoulders, it was then wrapped around your waist and by the time everyone had cleared off he had his hands placed on your hips, slowly drawing you in towards him. As he pulled you closer, you'd trailed your hands up his chest to rest on his broad shoulders, both of you breathing heavily as he'd leant down to press his lips to yours. It had escalated, he pushed your back against the balcony railing as he trailed open mouthed kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin and leaving marks that you found the next day, but despite the both of you clearly wanting more, making out was as far as you'd gone. The next morning you'd woken up next to him in his large bed, he had an arm thrown around your waist and his chest was pressed to your back. It was that morning when you joined him in the shower that you had properly hooked up for the first time, he'd pressed your back against the cold, wet tiles of the shower an-

You shook your head, clearing the thoughts from your mind as you washed the conditioner out of your hair and turned the handle on the shower, turning it off. After stepping out and wrapping a towel around your body, leaving your hair as it was to let it air dry, you unlocked your bathroom door and padded your bare feet along the wooden floor of your house towards your bedroom. You turned on your lights and jumped as you saw a figure sat on your bed, "Jesus, Rafe. What the fuck?"

But his lip didn't curl up in amusement as it usually did, instead he just remained sat with his shaved head resting in his palms, his elbows leant on his spread knees. "Rafe?" You asked softly, slightly concerned, "Did something happen?"

" 'S jus' my dad, you know?" he began, not looking up as you walked to stand in front of him, resting your hands on his shoulders, "He's jus' hassling' me, callin' me over n' over, orderin' me around, tellin' me what to do, 's if it's not me that's been handlin' things. 'S me that's been takin' care'f things, not Rose." He still didn't look at you as he continued but he moved his hands to rest on your hips as he rested the top of his head against your stomach, "And he's jus' goin' on and on 'bout Sarah, 's always 'bout her for him, no matter how many times she jus' fuckin' screws us over for John B."

"Rafe." You warned, hating when he he spoke like that about Sarah and John B when he knew they were your friends.

He didn't verbally acknowledge you, but he went silent before he mumbled, " 's just frustrating', you know?"

"I know," you sighed, the two of you had been hooking up for long enough for you to have heard of all the many times that Ward had picked Sarah over Rafe. You constantly tried to tell Rafe that Ward was using him because he knew that Rafe wanted to prove himself, but he wouldn't listen, insisting that Ward was just hard on him because Rafe would take over the company. The both of you went silent and your mind drifted to the cross, you pressed your lips together and looked up at the ceiling, contemplating if you should bring it up, but you did anyway, "Rafe, why won't you give it to us, it belongs to Pope's family." You didn't need to name the object for him to know what you were speaking about.

His grip on your hips tightened and he scoffed, " 'm not fuckin' going talking' about this again. I found it, okay? Me."

"No, we found it first. You know that." You spoke bitterly.

"Yeah, and you left it lying on the fucking floor." He reminded, standing up, his figure now towering over yours as he ran his hands over his head in annoyance.

"Pope was dying Rafe, dying. Of course we fucking left it there! But it's ours, it's his!." You continued to argue, not wanting to let it go. Not after you'd ended up stranded on Poguelandia for that cross.

"Well, 's not my fuckin' fault he was dying is it? Besides, didn't seem like it mattered all that much to him when he was gonna let it get lost in the ocean, did it?" He taunted, not phased when tears of frustration lined your eyes, " 'm not talkin' 'bout this anymore tonight."

You nodded, more to yourself than him, biting the inside of your cheek as you willed the tears not to fall. "Get out."

" 'scuse me?" His voice raised in shock.

"You heard me," you spoke sternly, "I don't want to be around you right now."

He chuckled dryly, " 's right coming' from you. But fine, 's not like I wanna stay in this shit hole longer than I have to. 'S fuckin' disgusting, not that I should've expected any less from a Pogue."

You smiled sarcastically as a stray tear rolled down your cheek at the insult, "Off you go then."

Guilt briefly flashed through him at the sight of you crying but he pushed it away and gave you a tight lipped smile, "Don't need to tell me twice."

That was the last thing he said before he stormed out, slamming your bedroom door behind him, causing you to flinch as you stood there in silence still wrapped in your towel as you listened to the sound of your front door slamming behind him and the sound of his car starting up and driving away. You exhaled a shake breath, your fingers brushing under your eyes to wipe away the tears that had managed to escape. You let your towel drop onto the floor, pulling on underwear and a t-shirt before you climbed into bed and drank from the warm, unfinished beer that you'd started earlier and lit up a joint, prepared to numb away the feelings from the argument. Not that you would admit it had upset you so much, not when you were supposed to hate him, and not when you were sure that he hated you.

Please lmk what you guys think, I'd love to hear from you! I'll also be happy to try and write any requests you may have <3

[tj-crochets]

What if you crocheted the cigar? Would that help the size problem? My brain is thinking: MR 6, INC 6, (SC, INC) 6 and then just SC to length and then color change to grey or red for the cigar end?

Depending on the yarn, you could get a nice texture to the cigar too.

Crocheting the cigar is definitely an option, and depending on the scale I was going for that's pretty much the pattern I was thinking too, I just have to admit I know nothing about cigars or what their texture usually is lol

[eccentricwritingbaby]

baby finn series, house divided

dad!lando norris x mom!wife!reader

series masterlist

summary - yours and lando’s little boy has decided to become a fan of a different team, leading lando into a little spiral

masterlist

-

finn norris, yours and landos bubbly pride and joy, was turning three this sunday - subjecting his birthday to a race day. finn had obviously grown up along the track with his dad and all his colleagues and friends which led him to adore and fall in love with the sport that is formula one - scaring the living daylights out of you in his passionate displays of love for the dangerous activity at such a young age. not only was finn bouncing off the walls when lando informed him of where his birthday would be held, he was jumping, shaking and yelling with excitement as the race track was his favorite place on earth. 

“finn, baby, calm down,” you chuckled while giving lando a glance. you both were sat on the couch with your son in front of you in order to tell him the wonderful news. now your adorable little almost three year old was racing around screaming with joy.

lando let out a laugh as well and reached for his son, “if you’re excited about spending your birthday on the track you’ll also be very excited about my other surprise for you,” finn looked up at his father with those same crystal blue eyes and whispered as if it was to himself, “anotha’ supwise?” lando and you share another small laugh at his wonder as he proceeds to get your son his gift. you take this moment to sweep up your still giggly son into your lap and give him a few quick kisses to the top of his head. those delicious baby laughs were all you heard as you felt his face snuggle further into your arms. lando returns as swiftly as he left, yet this time he appears with a large box in his arms. your boy wiggles in your hold until you release him to crawl towards his father. once settled on your husband's lap, lando begins to aid him in opening the bright papaya colored box, leading to your understanding of the exact contents in seconds. lando was always getting sent items from fans that were miniature, or receiving pint-sized merch from mclaren all for his mini me which both of you just doted over. once the wrapping paper and tissue paper were thrown enough around your living room, finn finally poked his head into the box and came out with a frown.

“you don’t like it, bud?” lando softly questions while his eyebrows begin to furrow. “‘s not wed, dada,” your son responds as he eyes his father, confusion listed on all of your faces.

“baby, why would you want your outfit to be red for your birthday? don’t you want to cheer on daddy?” you attempt to understand the little boy by posing the questions but he simply just whips his head around to you even more confused.

“i cheer dada in wed!” his eyes begin to gloss over and you can already feel a temper tantrum about to stir, yet one look over to lando and you understand that both your boys may need a minute to cool down.

“okay finn, why don’t you pick out what you want to bring on the trip? i’ll be right in to help baby,” you reply cautiously as you lift him out of lando’s arms, around the forgotten papaya box, and in the direction of his room.

“otay, momma!” finn shouts as his little legs attempt to quickly take him into his room down the hall. once the tiny steps disappear, you turn to look at your other baby.lando sits on the couch with a blank stare as his hands ring together in front of him.

“he wants to support ferrari, love. not his own father,” lando’s head falls as he speaks and you land on the couch cushion next to him, beginning to run your hand up and down his back. even though finn was born while you both were young and unsure of how to raise a child together, since you were children yourselves, lando was consistently one of the best fathers you had seen. he let the third driver take his seat for a month and a half in order to be a dedicated father and bond accordingly with your son. he doted over you and your needs no matter what the cost or occasion. and overall he cherished approval, whether it be in the bedroom, the track, or parenthood. lando is confident, yes, but he will always want the confirmation that he is doing his best, and that his best is enough - which it is always more than. therefore, you could tell that his son not wanting to support his team, and by partisan him, has led him to conclude that he is not a good racer, role model, or father - and you needed to stop those lies from invading his head.

“lando, he’s two - almost three, he probably just likes the color and wants to wear it,” you reply to his heart heavy confession.

“no he wants to support his uncle carlos, who has been winning and been on all the podiums - oh except for when he was in the hospital having a surgery,” the ending of his small reply held a bitter tone which you knew was not jealousy. lando and carlos are especially close, he is beyond happy and proud of his friend who he knows deserves his winnings, but you could understand the envy appearing when his son is preferring him over his dad.

“lando, it doesn’t matter what team he wants to support, that is your son. and he worships the ground you walk on. trust me. i am with him all the time,” you continue with a chuckle and a funnier tone as you begin to recite the words your son always speaks to you, “it’s always, ‘when’s dada coming home?’ ‘i want dada to tuck me into bed’ ‘can i drive like dada when im older’ and so on. lando, he loves you - you know that. don’t make this into a bigger deal than it needs to be. he is three, his intentions are pure,” as you end your speech, lando begins to raise his head looking into your eyes.

“i know, love. it just sucks i guess,” he lets out a quick sigh along with a shrug and meets your eyes again, “you’re still wearing papaya, right?” slight anxiety in his higher pitched question and you begin to laugh, “yes, love, i will always be in your color,” you reply as he hums and leans into your embrace, reaching down to plant a sweet kiss to your lips. just as you pull apart you can hear the quick little pitter patter of feet running down the hallway your little boy emits, trailing behind him is his bluey mini suitcase overflowing with toys and games.

“i all pack!” he squeals in excitement as he races over to you and your husband. lando drops down onto your floor, finn running right into his embrace, followed by a fit of giggles.

“let’s see what you packed, buddy,” your husband replies as he ruffles around finns baby curls. finn then claps a bit until he’s situated on the floor in front of the suitcase. he begins pulling out his items and reciting them to both of you and you respond in a chorus of “ooh’s” and “aah’s”. 

race day   -

as lando struts down the makeshift runway that is the entrance to the paddock, you follow behind a little further as to not draw too much attention to your little son. even though finn had grown up around the paddock, both lando and you are still not fully comfortable with the cameras and attention specifically around your son. therefore, any precaution - even the slightest - to not have him overly immersed in the media you both will take. lando is simply sporting his mclaren team gear, you in a light and well-fit sundress that lando emphasized in the morning you look ‘absolutely ravishing, my darling” and your birthday boy, well, he has arrived in a bright red ‘sainz55’ ferrari shirt as well as a bright and wide smile - something your husband couldn’t even be mad at if he tried, as your son’s smile that bright on his birthday was worth any sort of bruise to the ego. once well inside the paddock, finn begins to wiggle and squirm in your arms wanting to be let down which could only mean one thing.

“UNCLE LOS! UNCLE LOS! UNCLE LOS!” he begins to cry as you put him on the ground and he takes off towards him.

“FINN! SLOW DOWN!” your husband cries after him as he picks up a jogging pace after his overenthused son. carlos’ head whips around at the voice of his favorite little man as he begins to crouch down and brace for impact with his arms held wide. the little ball of red soon collides with his newfound favorite driver and the two begin to laugh as they hold each other. once you and lando catch up to the pair you can hear the adorable conversation at play.

“i wear wed fo’ you, uncle los!” finn sings happily while prancing around in front of carlos. the spanish driver, still crouched at your son's level, chuckles in admiration as he stares at the boy in front of him, “i think red is your color, pequeño,”

“it is! it is!” finn replies once again jumping around in full excitement.

“i also think it is somebody’s birthday,” carlos says holding a sly grin while staring at the little lando in front of him.

“ME! it’s mine!” your boy continues to jump.

“i think special birthday boys get to sit in their favorite uncles car?” carlos feigns innocence in the question as he looks at lando who holds a grin on his face. finn looks at his father for permission with a slight doe-eyed expression and lando gives him a simple nod before finn and carlos quickly disappear to the ferrari garage.

“i am very proud of you, love. you’ve got a good brave face,” you say quietly to your husband as he reaches down to pull you into a kiss.

“you know why i’m smiling, baby?” lando doesn’t wait for you to answer the rhetorical, “because we just gained a free babysitter for about an hour,” he kisses you again, this time with more urgency as he continues, dropping an octave, “and i’ve got an empty drivers room just waiting for us,” one more kiss and he’s already pulling you into the direction of the mclaren garage with you jogging quickly behind him in a fit of giggles. 

[sparklingcid3r]

ik we get ponyboys perspective of wut happened to darry after his parents died (most literally the book) but wut do u think was sodas perspective of watching darry before their parents died as the most popular guy in school/going to college then essentially have to become and be stuck as the one thing darry most obviously did not want to be (stuck in tulsa/ not gt college)

darrys life is underrated tragedy fr

Before I get into this complete devastation I want to direct you to this post! Not exactly the same, but it made me want to walk into traffic 🥰

So anyway, this was super interesting to consider. I imagine Soda definitely looking up to Darry as the stud, the golden child, literally just the coolest guy ever. He had Soc friends, he had greaser friends, and could square up with pretty much anyone who was dumb enough to want the equivalent of a baseball bat to the jaw.

And on top of that, Darry was on a one-track train out of Tulsa, heading out to college soon. In Soda’s eyes, Darry had everything and he was real damn happy with it.

So when all of their lives just crashed around them, Soda obviously had his own problems to deal with before he took notice of anyone else’s. But when his own dust settled and he could see a little more clearly, the change in Darry was definitely obvious. For the first month or so, Darry was just kind of numb. He went through all the necessary proceedings stoically, robotically, never let Soda in on anything regarding child services or the state or boys homes. Sometimes, when they were sitting at the table trying to eat Darry’s best efforts at recipes from their mom’s cookbook, and Pony was too stuck in his own grief moving his food around the plate with his fork, Soda watched Darry get a blank look in his eyes, like he’s staring at something that doesn’t exist, completely detached from reality.

(Soda’s always known that Pony and Darry are more similar than either of them think. Just not in the good ways.)

And for a little, it happened often. Darry comes home from work and sits down in their dad’s recliner, and Soda’s watching the television but in his peripheral he can see Darry drift off to someplace else, and all he can hope is that it’s someplace better.

Soda noticed all the little things. He didn’t smile to himself, didn’t laugh, didn’t tell Pony or Soda to put out their cigs around him, because it didn’t much anymore if he breathed the smoke in. He didn’t talk about his day more than a dismissive wave and that it was fine, he didn’t go out in the evenings.

Darry was against it the entire time, but Soda dropping out of high school seemed to be the thing that officially made him grown in Darry’s eyes. Darry finally pulled him aside when Pony was asleep and together they went through their grocery list, Darry teaching him how to shop cheap, but he always kept things like the bills far away from Soda’s eyes. Soda offered Darry money from the DX, Darry took it, and their lights stayed on and water kept running, but Soda doesn’t know what’s really going on with the numbers. Only Darry does.

Soda knows he’s always been protected by Darry. Since they were little, and even months ago, if Soda ever had any issues with anyone, Darry had his back. Soda didn’t think he was naive about much of anything, but he realizes pretty quickly that Darry will never let anyone have his back the way he does everyone else. Sure, Darry can lean on him, but he’ll be right back to the grind the second he can.

Seeing Darry go from wearing his college sweatshirt into town to his battered work clothes and tool belt placed a guilt in Soda’s heart that he couldn’t ever shake. The worst part was that he never complained about it, not to them. Soda’s beyond grateful to Darry, he’ll never make up for it for as long as he lives. But at the same time he just wants his brother back, and he knows it’ll never happen.

The more I write about Soda the more I love him, ty for helping give my guy some justice🙏 (i hope this is kind of what u wanted to hear abt, sorry if i just yapped in ur ear abt nothing lmfao)

[sweetestpopcorn]

How would you rank Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s children in terms of greatness/potential? For me, Baelon was best out their children with Saera being second. I also think Viserra was a waisted potential. I think she could have done interesting stuff had she lived. Do you think perhaps maybe Baelon should’ve married her after Alyssa’s death? Obviously, no one could replace Alyssa in his heart.

Hi there :)

I have already kind of answered this regarding my thoughts about Saera and Viserra and none of it is good. I will just link them here and here . Legit they are just portrayed as mean girls with no real depth to them, though of the two, Saera is much, much worse. Viserra I can at least sympathise with since her parents seem to not give half a f_ck about her and did not even extend to her the same courtesy they did her siblings of having a say about her marriage (more here), but that's about it. I don't find anything else likeable about her she's just... empty.

I will go from least favourite to favourite.

Saera and Viserra go right to the bottom of my list. Followed very closely by Vaegon by obvious reasons. Like Vaegon, it literally costs you 0 golden dragons to not be so unlikable.

Then I would say Daenerys, she has a lot of sweet moments but dies young so I don't really know how she would have turned out. Besides, I know it's petty of me, but I don't like other characters having Dany's name. I do like Daenerys, Naerys's daughter but... yeah no more. You don't need more Daenerys, we have our Mother of Dragons. Yes, I know I am petty.

Then Gael because... poor baby 🥺 seriously what was George thinking writing a character who is Alysanne's comfort, with some degree of cognitive disability be r...... by some random singer, give birth, lose her baby, and kill herself?! Like enough's enough. It's literally just to add tragedy to her story and honestly Turtle man it's getting f:cking OLD. I swear this man gets his rocks off by adding tragedy and terrible abuse to female characters. This when he can bother to make them more than a walking womb.

Then I would say Aemon. Maybe he would be higher but at times I just feel he's too perfect if that's a thing. There’s just nothing wrong with him like 😂 he literally does nothing wrong.

Daella comes next because I find her funny. She's such a drama queen 24/7 making everyone around her want to protect her XD even Alyssa. I kind of got the vibes at times from her that she kind of knew what she was doing to get attention. Like the fact that she and Alyssa are Rhaenyra's grandmothers just makes so much sense no matter how you look at it. In a way Rhaenyra seems kind of a mixture of both? With tons of stubborn and style added. Another moment that really endeared me to Daella was her very tragic death, and how despite all her suffering she still wanted to be given Aemma and to feed her. Prime mom material right there -> like you can tell both from her and Alyssa that Rhaenyra got some top notch mom genes.

Then Alyssa of course, because she was THE queen. Literally she was just a better behaved version of her son and I'm here for it! I love how despite the fact that she was clearly a tomboy she still wanted to marry Baelon and give him an army of kids X'D because these two things are not mutually exclusive and liking or enjoying traditional boy things does not have to say anything about your sexuality or your desire to be a mother - just like being very feminine and liking traditionally feminine activities does not have to say anything about your sexuality or desire to parent. These are rules a society that does not understand nuance and in a sense is deeply sexist and stereotypical likes to put in place and that I find deeply harmful to people. But Alyssa is the BOMB, so funny, so bold, the way she embarrassed Vaegon who was a little sh:t *chef's kiss*

Then there's the best man ever -> Baelon Targaryen

Had his own cool nickname, The Spring Prince, funny, charming, sexy, single dad who never once forgot about his lady with the mismatched eyes, entered a tourney under the name of the Silver Fool... I don't feel like a need to say more, and in an era where all men were literally so problematic, Baelon was IT.

Baelon is what this fandom thinks Corlys is. Sorry not sorry.

And that's it :D

Also no, and more important that should Baelon remarry, the question is did he want to remarry? And the answer is no, and any Baelon fan would respect the Spring Prince and his undying love for his lady with the mismatched eyes <3

[waitmyturtles]

HERE WE GO: Thai QL Favorites Tag Game! Thanks to @telomeke, @lurkingshan, and @kattahj for the tags!

Favorite Thai QL: Bad Buddy, with a close second going to Until We Meet Again. My valuation here is -- what show do I think about the MOST on a daily basis? In every other show I watch, I’m thinking of Bad Buddy, and how BBS did x, y, and z differently. Still to me one of the most brilliant overall dramas I’ve ever watched, so mind-blowingly layered, and to me, BBS serves as a love letter and an honoring to the traumas that Asian children face as their parents grow, painfully, out of their own traumas.

Favorite Pairing: I’m going to assume pairings refers to the fictional ships, so: PatPran, obviously, with DeanPharm, BunTan, TeeFuse, and FrameBook in close running! Honorable mention to ThunMed, but Med is a ghost, sooooo, yeah, is object permanence a requirement in ships?! 

Most underrated actor: I’m adding to @telomeke and @pandasmagorica‘s pitch for Gawin Caskey. I know I have yet to see him in Not Me, but he was fabulous in Dark Blue Kiss.... and he is TEARING IT UP in Be My Favorite. There is not one hiccup with this man’s acting. He and Krist are CARRYING BMF to fabulous results. Honorable mention to my fave, Nammon Krittanai, who held down in SOTUS S and ATOTS, and he’s gonna be in The Rebound with Frank Thanatsaran, so we’ll see how that goes!

Favorite Character: Haaaaaa. OMG. I have so many. Honestly... for this very moment, I’d have to say Pharm from UWMA. I know his blushing maiden approach turned off a lot of folks, but Pharm just gave us EVERYTHING by way of demonstrating ALL of his emotions at his entire situation in holding Intouch’s spirit within him and negotiating his future with Dean. Pharm may have been a blushing maiden, but he also held his own, stood up for himself with the temporary break, and found his true love on his own, independently, in the end. I absolutely loved Pharm’s trajectory. 

Favorite Side Character: Oh no, also too many to list! I love that @telomeke mentioned Yihwa from Together With Me, but for me, I think tied for my tops in this category, would be Thun’s mom in He’s Coming To Me, and Pete’s dad in Dark Blue Kiss. The very, very best BL parents.

Favorite scene in a QL: Thun’s coming out scene on the rooftop in He’s Coming To Me/episode 5. I float when I think of Ohm Pawat’s acting in that moment.

Favorite line in a QL: This is a good one. For pure sessyness, I like what Ae says to Pete in the thin-walled dorm room in Love By Chance, and what Sarawat says to Tine at the end of Still 2gether. 

But I think I like what Dean says to Pharm in... I think it’s episode 6 in UWMA. “Who taught you to say something like this?” Gives me the shivers.

Most Anticipated QL (& why): Only Friends, of course, with 23.5 and Dangerous Romance in close seconds. (If this were NOT a Thai list, I would say the second season of What Did You Eat Yesterday?, because I’m planning to LOSE MY MIND OVER THAT, lol.)

Healthiest relationship in a QL: Are we talking romantic relationships?! Because Thun and Thun’s mom in HCTM, and Pete and Pete’s dad in DBK definitely count, ha. As far as couplings go? I might actually argue for Uea and King in Bed Friend! They went through SO MUCH to get to where they were at the end of that show. SO MUCH. And King just LED in such a positive and healthy way, listening to every one of Uea’s needs and responding to them. They are a fabulous couple. I’ll give them their flowers for ending in such a healthy and open place! 

Most toxic relationship in a QL: TharnType, and that’s all I’ll say about that.

Guilty pleasure series: Ooooooh. I don’t think I can answer this, because I don’t think I’ve watched enough Thai QLs out of the context of the Old GMMTV Challenge to have watched a series PURELY for pulpy goodness. I think I need more familiarity with the genre by way of quantity to fully answer this!

Most underrated series: I agree with @telomeke. HE’S COMING TO ME. A show that was WAY before its time, and did not get its flowers, publicly, by GMMTV or the 2019 fandoms. The writing and acting on this show was SPECTACULAR. I will beat this drum forever: anyone who calls themselves a QL fan MUST watch this show for the standards it set in acting, in writing, and in message delivery. Utterly stunning.

Gonna tag some of the usual suspects of the OGMMTVC in here, as well as new friends I’ve made through Be My Favorite! @absolutebl, @solitaryandwandering, @nieves-de-sugui, @clairificusrex, @manogirl, @telomeke, @so-much-yet-to-learn, @twig-tea, @crowie, @chickenstrangers, @grapejuicegay, @dribs-and-drabbles, @miscellar, @aliceisathome, @rocketturtle4, and anyone else, feel free to jump in!

[platonically-loving-alastor]

Hazbin Top 5

I was going to make a top 10 character list, but realized after the first 5 I didn't know where to place anyone- But in case you're curious, some contenders for the remaining 6-10, in no specific order, were Angel Dust, Charlie, Emily, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. Now here's my top 5 with reasonings and appreciation for them all!

5. Lucifer

Obviously bro is relatable, not only for his awkwardness and hyperfixations, but he also happens to be the same height as I am at about 5'2" (according to the sources I've seen). Being the same height as Lucifer is my biggest flex lmao- I still have no idea why his hatred of Alastor seemed so instant. Like yeah, Alastor was trying to annoy him by being a better dad to Charlie, but the whole 'fuck you' moment happened before any of that started. Did he just sense the bad vibes off of him or what? Anyway, his awkwardness and desperation to connect with his daughter make for probably my favorite lines of the episode, such as the "Hey bitch!" and the whole "You like girls? So do I!" situation followed by him being so distracted he called Vaggie by the wrong name. Perfect comedy

4. Lute

I love her an insane amount for someone who shows up so relatively little with so few lines, but here we are. I've already made an entire post about her, here it is if you want it, so I'll keep this short (Spoiler alert: I failed). I actually don't think I mentioned just how attractive this woman is, so let's get that out there right now. I know I'm not the only one who thinks this, about half the people I've seen react to Episode 6 have seen Lute without her mask, took a pause of recognition, and we all knew what they were thinking before the pressed play. Istg my taste in women (and sometimes even men, thanks Vox) is just "Can they murder me without a second thought? Yes? That's hot". My favorite line of hers is when she's hyping up the army with Adam and says "Rip Vaggie's cunt mouth out her ass!" and even Adam has to be like "damn girl chill what the hell-" She's so feral I love her so much

3. Rosie

Everyone needs a Rosie in their lives. I don't just mean a regular therapist, I mean a person in your life, friend or family member, who will talk you out of your downward spiral and gently call you out on why those paranoid thoughts are actually pretty unrealistic (the other side of the same coin would be Husk, he's just more blunt about it). I'm also still completely convinced she has some interesting and sad backstory based on how she was talking to Charlie and I need to know about it so bad. "It can be difficult to admit to things you're not proud of, especially if those things hurt the ones you love" Ma'am what did you do? I find it hard to believe it's just about the cannibalism. I don't know if in this instance, she's the one who hurt someone or someone else hurt her and she was the one who failed to forgive them, but either way I need answers.

2. Vox

Y'all know I love this man in more ways than one, he one the hottest Hazbin character poll for a reason. But I swear everything about this man makes me love him as a character more. First, I always love a technology based character, his electricity powers and literal screen head are the coolest thing in the world to me. He's voiced by Christian Borle, which was a fantastic choice, along with the glitched effect his voice gets when he's mad, I love to see it. Apparently it's also canon he can fly (with rocket shoes)?? He just keeps getting the best character design choices possible, this can't possibly be fair- The fact his first introduction was being done with Val, telling him to call tf down, and treating him like a child ("Now that's why they pay you the big bucks!") was a pretty good first impression for me lol, made even funnier when it was followed by him losing all sense of rationalism when Alastor entered his line of sight.

1. Alastor

The character my blog is named after, this should not be a surprise. Shockingly enough, despite my obsession for him and acknowledgement of his charming nature and generally attractive design, I' do not simp for him in the slightest'm not personally attracted to him in the slightest. I simp for a TV and yet apparently deer man with permanent smile is where I draw the line idk- The most I want from him is to be as good of a friend to him as Rosie is (well that and to touch his ears but that's a given). But this is another character I love literally everything about. Who would've thought the concepts of 'radio host', 'serial killer', and 'literal deer' would work so well together to create this dapper yet terrifying fucking cryptid. Not only can he be either incredibly scary or a silly guy, he can and has done both at once. Example: Episode 3 when he's just casually eating a deer carcass in his room (in which he summoned a whole ass bayou). I was genuinely so glad when the 'this face was made for radio' thing happened in episode 1, confirming that they were still gonna lean into his creepy-as-fuck distortion and general vibe he had in the pilot. He's horrifying and evil and I love that about him. Meanwhile he also says shit like "Now he's pissy, that's the tea" (definitely taught to him by Rosie) and kicks his legs on the bed like a schoolgirl as if he hasn't committed countless atrocities. My favorite character, everyone-

Wow I wrote more than I meant to for this, sorry about the essay-

[gg-carboxylase]

Got ahold of Step by Step episode 12. We needed 2 more episodes as usual with these series.

If you've not watched the show, please do. It's worth your time, even if you feel like you're wading thru the first few episodes. It's slow burn. This is not horny hours. This is really office hours.

Spoilers under the cut obvs.

Some meta. Mostly my opinions.

I wrote that paragraph before the Mildly Spicy Bed Makeout. I kind of enjoy that Jeng shooed Pat to the shower For Reasons. At least, I personally infer bottom reasons but that's just me. Still, I would have liked more spice à la Bed Friend, but I'm a thirsty ho.

I'll get this admission off my chest — I'm bummed that we got those really spicy kisses and that's as far as it went. KP and Domundi productions spoiled me, obviously. Did I want to see them fake fuck? Yeah. I'll admit it.

The scene where they were writing out then deleting their text messages was acted to perfection.

Hot take — Ben is the worst ugly crier. We love him anyway.

Jeng is a stalker, he needs to learn to go less hard. He also needed to resign like, 2 years earlier from the company. Good for him though. Dad is hot. Shame he's a homophobe.

I am super over people singing in the shows, no matter how good they are.

I love that Jeng's passion is cooking.

You can tell this is a real Thai show because when they show that green curry, it's real green curry even if it's store bought. It's hard to find good green curry paste over here unless you're in certain places.

Jeng's mom — what was the point of a 30 second meeting. Ben is so good at being nervous and young, he's really a great actor.

The chemistry is off the charts in this episode, good Christ. They obviously had fun shooting the cake scene.

Jeng better have a hell of a savings if he's returning all his shares to his dad and putting his hopes on his restaurant.

The restaurant biz is a bitch. I grew up in the restaurant business and the margins are razor thin, even in famous and successful restaurants. Hopefully, Pat's advertising firm is doing well.

Seriously, again. Needed another couple episodes. Especially with how Jeng's dad tossed his resignation letter.

I know Man said this would be his only BL, but I would really like to see them do another show together. They really got their shit together at the end and it's rare to see a couple that can have this kind of chemistry.

The age difference works really well between them, it's comfortable — which isn't there for a lot of decade+ couples — and there's a lot of plots where this could be used. So let's manifest that.

I have no idea what the fuck Man does for a living, so I'm not sure if he's even free to do another series. Dude has an econ degree, which means nothing (no offense econ folks, you guys are like Swiss army knives). I suspect he's a mini Mile Phakphum, and just sort of exists on the largess of his family and his modeling career.

I very much liked this series. It's definitely in my list of favorites. For me, it started out rocky because I didn't understand what it was trying to do. Looking back, now that I see what the aim is, the path it took is perfect.

Would I have liked more sex? Absolutely, but as I mentioned before — I'm a thirsty ho. These lads get paid more than I make as a clinical lab scientist, spending my day making your doctor look smart. A little bed shenanigans isn't too much to ask.

Alas, I can't complain too much. The kisses we got were A+, top-tier compared to nearly any other series. The physical stuff we did get was also A+. Truly, my complaints are mostly unfounded. We could have ended up with Korean level bullshit.

I'm not going to bother with meta about the story because there's users here that are far better at articulating exactly what I want to say, so troll the tag for them.

[universal-shenanigans]

Tension & Questions

     “How did this happen?” A very confused and rightfully irritated Don V asked over the laptop. He wasn’t blaming them, just absolutely baffled as to how so many mobsters were dead. Andrew spoke up, “Of course we don’t know how it happened, but we can surmise who did it.”

     “I think the real problems lie in how many people we have left, and how recent these incidents occurred.” Alexa paced around the room. She was too anxious to sit still and think about this. V pushed himself up and grunted. He was still in the hospital after all and was definitely feeling the aftermath of the back-to-back blood transfusions and stitches. “Okay, we need to tackle this one step at a time. Majority of them are dead, but we do still have a good number of outlets to see, right? Haven’t you two made your own alliances once you had more stake in the business?”

     Alex shrugged, “I mean, yeah. But pretty much everyone we knew, our dads knew, and vice versa.”

     “Yeah, and anyone that me and Arthur made alliances with are definitely on here. Those people are obviously out. It’s just...” Alexa gazed at the list once more after Alex had forcibly stopped her pacing at the couch. She shook her head, “V, there are a lot of names on here. Several of them are some pretty big names. Ones that I know, for a fact, should not be dead. So, clearly Arthur killed off a good chunk of these people. I refuse to believe he didn’t. The others, there’s a chance there was some in-fighting and betrayals. So right now, that’s why we’re down to five pe-”

     Brrring! Brrring!

     Alex’s phone started ringing. She raised a finger as she took the call to another room. V continued the conversation, “So, we’re down to five people?”

     “Yes. Thankfully, the ones that are still alive know one if not both our fathers, or they have a straight connection with Arthur.”

     Alex walked back and plopped back down on the couch, seeming to be even more irritated with their situation. She highlighted the fifth of the top five names and struck through it. They looked at her, surprised and more confused than they were before. “That was my dad on the phone. He died last night. Not by Arthur, granted. He died by health complications with his heart and whatever the hell else was going on. Point is, we’re down to four people.”

     There was a collection of groans about the news. Of course, no one was going to lose hope or stop over this, but the setback just made their investigation 20 times harder. V pinched the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “Okay. We’re just going to have to work with that. It’s far from what we need, but maybe some worthy information can come from some of them.”

     “Well, I know the second one, Victor Bass. Calls his place of operations “The Pro Shop” and calls himself “Big Bass”. He knew my father in the past, but he cut ties with him years ago cause he tipped someone about my dad doing something, don’t know to this day, but long story short it almost got me, and my mother killed. I don’t know if he’s changed his place of operations, but we can try and start there.”

     “Alright, I consider that a step in the right direction.” V nodded.

     Alex continued as she scrolled through, “I know a guy here too. Know where his place is. No connection, but I’ve very briefly interacted with him cause of a quick trip. I can see if I can get us some time to talk.”

     “Good, good. I will try to look into some of my own connections and see what I can do from this damned hospital bed.”

     “Do you think any of them actually have ties, let alone know him?”

     “You’d be surprised. Young or old, everyone seeks to benefit from anyone. I just need to weed out the worst ones.”

     Alex gave an arched expression as she stretched her legs onto the coffee table, “How’s that goin’ anyway? Ya know with the whole needles and medical stuff?”

     A note of coy and mockery was laced in her question, causing the man to snap his attention to her and sneer. “Watch it, Vandem. I’m not in the mood. I’m a sitting duck here with everything going on. Unfortunately, I don’t have the muscle that you and Alexa carry, so who knows what could happen while I’m here.”

     “Besides them comin’ after you? I don’t think there’s much for you to worry about. We actually got family to look out for...” She mumbled the last bit under her breath. It wasn’t hard for him to hear her and it garnered a negative expression from Alexa. However, V stayed silent. Alexa took the laptop and sighed. “Look, we’ll try to figure out another way to-”

     “Find a back-up plan. I’ll see you all when I’m out...” The call ended. Alexa took a deep breath and snapped her attention to her friend, who didn’t look even a little bit remorseful about what she had said. Alexa looked up at Andrew, who only looked away to avoid her gaze. She tossed the laptop onto the couch and took another deep breath. “Okay...what the fuck? Why would you say something like that?!”

     “Alexa, what makes you think an absolutely waste of space and air like him has a-”

     “What makes you think that he doesn’t?! You’re acting like a petty child and throwing cheap shots at a man that’s literally helping us go after a real monster! I don’t fucking know what he’s done, frankly I don’t want to know, but I do know that with as suspicious as he may seem to you two, he’s only shown day by day more of a reason to trust him!”

     “You wouldn’t be sayin’ that if you knew what he did! Everyone who crosses his path stays clear, hates him, hightails it outta there or all of the above! Why the fuck would you try and take a chance like that after seeing and hearing all of those warning signs about him?!” Alex jumped up.

     Alexa stepped closer, yelling, “ARE WE ANY FUCKING DIFFERENT?!”

     Silence. Andrew looked between the two, eyes finally landing on Alex as she began to back down. Alexa’s voice was laced with anger as she continued. “Are we...? If we are, prove it...”

     Alex still didn’t say anything and just snatched up her jacket and stormed out the door. Alexa watched, and as soon as the door closed, she glared at Andrew. He shook his head and grabbed his coat from the back of a chair. “Can’t expect everyone to be as trusting as you are, darling. He’s done...a lot. More than the two of you combined. But, it’s not our place to talk about it. He should tell you himself. Even if he wants to keep his past in the past. Not fair to you or the people getting involved in this situation being left in the dark...Gonna try and calm her down...”

     He left. The air felt heavy. Alexa looked down at the laptop. Then to the door. The laptop. The door. The laptop. The door...the door...The amount of profanities that were screaming in her head were...immense. The only thing that managed to come out was an angry, “This is fucking ridiculous...” She quickly grabbed her coat and left as well.

[woodlaflababab]

Just a ramble about favorite characters.

I've noticed that usually, when ppl have an otp, their two top favorite characters are usually the two in the pair, I know that often that's the case for me, but atla is different. My otp is zukaang but my ranking on favorites goes

Aang

Sokka

Katara

Zuko

Toph

And due to this list I have realized something about myself. I pick favorite characters based on perceived level of trauma.

(before I go on, disclaimer: this is simply my interpretation of the show, the characters, and their trauma, and someone experiencing more trauma obviously does not negate or mean someone elses trauma experience isn't also godawful)

Aang: entire culture wiped off the map, literally everyone he knew is dead except one old friend whos now an old man, in an entirely different world 100 yrs seperated from his own, dealing with being the avatar at 12, singlehandedly responcible for ending a war, literally fucking died

Sokka: mom died, father essentially abandoned him, left him in charge of taking care of the safety of an his entire villiage at the ripe age of like, 13 I think?, in charge of keeping his little sister and the fucking avatar alive in the middle of a war, something which he failed at, his first love literally died in his arms, his own actions directly responsible for losing his father a second time

Katara: mom died and had the great pleasure of finding her body, father essentially abandoned her, the only bender in a place where the bending culture has been completely eradicated, literally watched her best friend die and beared the responsibility of bringing him back to life

Zuko: hella abusive dad and sister, mom essentially abandoned him, banished and ostrisized from his whole culture

Toph: her parents were shit

You can very clearly see how my favoritism is heavily influenced by how traumatized I think a character is ksbfnsndn

[meanwhileinstasiville]

And I can add “lantham” plumbing to the list of service vehicles that follow me around. This time next to a campus building, in the dark, next to someone in a suit. All three things converging about where I habitually walk to that side of the street. 

At the time I went nomad or whatever, some really curious things happened in rapid succession. A cousin in the next town over took me to meet some of his “friends” who were “trimmers” we shall say, for lack of a better word. You know, in the marijuana trade. That’s not too curious considering his history in the drug business back in Tennessee. The curious part was that they (the trimmers) are both open carrying guns, and happen to have another visitor “from the bar” across the street from their pad coincidentally named “Aaron”, a variation on the spelling of the name of my former boss’s son. Someone I happened to have worked with and who wants to hear a story (with the immediate threat of death in the smoke filled room). A time after that passed and back at my cousin’s/aunt’s, ANOTHER Aaron came to live with us. Who really wanted to talk about Ayn Rand, and also continued to pressure my cousin (who gets smoky eyed and thinks of murder when he’s drunk, a little like his uncle once did) into sleeping with him when the vino veritas of his homosexuality was made manifest.

(We didn’t talk much on account of their near daily blackout drunk escapades)

A couple Aaron’s, one associated with one store I had worked at, and another from the town grocery of the next town over is some coincidence. And it doesn’t stop there. We started getting a visiting “Lee” on a day to day basis, like the name of my ongoing stalker. My cousin evidently spotted the ruse, and decided to start waking the guy up in the wee hours of the morning because, and I quote, “I’m bored. Entertain me. I need enter-taim-ent” because that guy had to be there. So it could be made to look like “Aaron” hangs out there, and “Lee” visits. These things, they happen.

Personally, I wonder why people even need to make things look like that for argument purposes; all crime is organized and the valley proper is like a set of company towns stacked on top of each other. The guy yesterday who yelled “fag!” every five seconds rounding he corner of city hall and riding in traffic, more or less makes my point. The plaza “island” is where the baddest of the street bad guys hang out, line of sight to city hall and municipal operations as a constant reminder that the city can do what it wants. Until five pm or so when they have to leave the “safety” of the building. He seemed to also want to fight (which makes him sound kind of gay) after spitting at me, as a cartel hopeful fatal aesop about gang violence (because all gangs in town are on one team) and there’s copious camera coverage on the plaza (for tale of the tape instant replay).

This kind of thing is not new. Way back when, my best friend’s dad introduced the two of us to MREs like the soldiers eat, at a point in my life when I was obviously not getting enough to eat. Semi-malnutritioned and a little emaciated, in the sort of way where someone would hope I’d go looking for more MREs on the way to a military career. That didn’t happen. People keep trying to get rid of me and it never quite works out, probably because evil is self limiting, but that’s neither here nor there.

I would like to say that all this is somehow about a heart being in the right place, but it sure doesn’t feel that way. The MRE story is a little like the Family Guy, “We’re being followed by ghosts!” cutaway, where Peter seems perfectly aware of the kkk like he’d been talking to them for a long time before having a black friend. Except with nazis.

A mini cooper or two everywhere isn’t doing anything that the red hondas, blue fords, HVACs including but not limited to “calculated comfort” bearing a rectangle glassed nazi looking guy on the side of the van, assorted now red and white trucks where 70s ford rangers once were, where the red hondas once were, in terms of promoting a religious system, or a race argument, or advancing a set of threatening gestures, or selling the latinas as desirable, or alleviating the problem with being stalked around the library by shelver spy now back in the DVDs (who owes my boss’s other son for her job enough so that “You will die!” was the response to the idea that something could happen *to him* on account of her following me around the library *years ago*)

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Acrylics | Headcanon

Requested? Nope

Warnings? None

CC's Included? Corpse Husband, Dream, Awesamdude, Wilbur Soot, Sapnap, BoomerNA, Punz, Quackity, Karl Jacobs

Word Count: 1,730

My first ever set of headcanons! Pls feel free to tell me if they suck or if you want more!! My requests are always open :)

Corpse

-you’ve had earrings for years now and didn’t think acrylics would mess you up

-you were definitely wrong

-you suddenly became notorious for dropping earring backs, losing them in the carpet, and fumbling around for minutes at a time

-corpse had noticed you had started to take longer and longer getting ready

-he knew you loved changing your earrings, matching them to your outfit, and making a whole outfit out of it

-and yet one morning you two were actually headed out to get breakfast together

-when you were taking a while he decides to check on you and see if you’re okay

-he walks into the room, watching you pout in frustration as you tried again to put in your earrings

-he can’t help the small smile on his lips that occurs, watching as you tried over and over to put the jewelry in your ear

-he walks over, placing his hands on your shoulders until they fall down over your hands

-“let me help”

-he takes the earrings out of your hands, nudging you to turn in his grip

-he brushes your hair back before focusing intently on putting the earring in

-he’s scared about hurting you but you’re too busy focusing on the butterflies in your stomach to even notice

-he fastens the earrings with ease and without a second thought he presses a kiss to your forehead before telling you to turn and look in the mirror and see if it’s okay

-you’re practically glowing and that alone make corpse smile

-from now on he puts your earrings in for you

Dream

-the minute you got your nails done you realized what a struggle opening cans was going to be

-you loved Redbull and soda and pretty much anything that came into a can so you were definitely struggling

-dream watches as you leverage the can tab with a knife and pop it open that way, an adoring smile on his lips

-he watches you do this for a while, finding the action absolutely adorable for whatever reason

-one day you head to the fridge and grab a can of Redbull and Dream takes it out of your hands instantly

-he pops it open without a word and hands it back, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he walks away

-you stand in the cold air of the fridge for minutes afterward, struck at how such a perfect boy could notice something so minute about you

-he always opens cans for you now

Sam

-having a difficult time typing never even occurred to you when you got your nails done

-you figured you’d either find a way around it or use text to speech if it got really difficult

-and it did get really difficult

-you had a 10-page essay due and the idea of ripping your extremely expensive nails off had crossed your mind more than once

-when you’re on your third page and can’t type one word without a mistake you let out a muted scream before dropping your head onto the desk

-Sam who had been sitting in the room the whole time offers a concerned look

-he makes his way over to you, rubbing your back slowly

-“what’s wrong baby?”

-“these stupid nails keep messing me up,” you whine leaning your head into his chest

-he picks your hand up, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before nudging you out of the seat

-“what are you writing about?” he asks as you plop down onto the floor

-“what?”

-“what are you writing about? I can type it,”

-you swore you were about to get down on one knee and propose to him

-“uhm it’s about the similarities and differences of an older text and a newer text and why it’s fundamental to use both”

-“alright. tell me what I need to write next”

-you spent the next few hours telling Sam your plans and thoughts about the paper while he typed, your heart slamming appreciatively in your chest

Wilbur

-you had done pretty well with your hair after getting your nails done

-brushing it out, pulling it up, even twirling it around your fingers caused no issue and all ease

-however, when you see a TikTok tutorial of a girl pulling her hair up with butterfly clips this is when the trouble starts

-you sat in front of your bedroom mirror, twisting your hair and attempting to clip it in place, and proceeding to drop the clip over and over and over

-the frustration is unreal, and at one point you almost start crying in annoyance

-Wilbur walks into the room clueless and stops in his tracks immediately

-he kneels on the ground behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders

-you lean back into his touch and let it calm you as you drop the clips from your hands

-”what’s wrong my love?” he whispers calmly while pressing kisses to your head

-”I can’t get my hair right,” an unintentional whine coming out of your lips

-Wilbur reaches down to where the clips lay on the ground and gather them up

-”what do you want me to do?”

-you’re practically crying for a whole other reason now

-”i’m just trying to twist my hair up and pin it back” you explain

-wilbur watches you pull the hair back before opening the clip and securing it into place

-he smoothes down the hair as if he’s done it a million times and presses kisses to your head

-he’s the first person you call now when you need help with your hair

Sapnap

-okay you’ve never been great at opening sauce packets before

-but now that you got your nails done it’s downright impossible

-the first time you tried you swore it took you 30 minutes to even get it a little bit open

-so when you and Sap go to Chick fil A and sit down to eat you’re already groaning in annoyance as you pull out the chick fil a sauce packet

-Sap watches with amused eyes and a slight smirk as you struggle even getting the plastic between your fingers

-he grabs it from your hands without a word, tearing it open before placing it back in front of you

-every single time you go to a fast food place now he does it subconsciously whether you have acrylics on or not

-your heart aches a little every time he does it, nothing but love for the sweet boy before you

Boomer

-alright so you’ve never been a huge gamer in life

-sure you played the occasional game when you were younger or when your older brother needed help beating a level but that was about it

-when you met Boomer you realized how little you knew about video games, specifically minecraft

-while you never played the game you listened to Boomer tell you all about it and explain

-however when he started playing Halo in his free time that’s when you became interested

-your dad used to play the game 24/7 when you were younger, beating it a multitude of times on the old PC in the computer room

-and when he saw your interest piqued, he knew he had to teach you how to play valorant

-similar shooting games, right?

-you sat on his lap, his hands on top of yours as you try to work around having the longest fingernails ever and learn a new game

-you swear instead of you actually playing Boomer was doing all of the work

-it made your heart happy anyway

-you joked with him that when the fingernails come off you’ll beat his ass in valorant

-”Whatever you say my love” he assures pressing a kiss to your shoulder

Punz

-okay but opening jars normally is hard

-how the fuck were you supposed to open them with long ass fingernails on??

-you did probably the most ridiculous tips and tricks from TikTok to try and loosen the top of the jar

-nothing worked

-punz watched you amused day in and day out whenever you tried to open any jars

-some days he even let the jar loosen before hiding it back again and watching as you cheer excitedly, opening it on the first try

-one day you’re having a particularly hard time opening a jar, going as far as cursing in frustration over the opening

-punz walks over to you, pulling the jar from your hand and popping it open with ease you watch admirably

-you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek and he flushes underneath your touch

-now every time you have a jar you can’t open you’re right by Punz’s side pouting and holding out the food

Quackity

-obviously, Alex has always opened doors for you

-he’s even gone as far as smacking your hand away when you try to open a door for yourself

-and when you get your nails done? Forget about it

-he barely lets you lift a finger, not wanting for you to ruin your brand new manicure

-he’s seen you pull off quite a few nails by missing the door handle and hitting it a bit too hard

-there’s no way he’s gonna make you lose more

-”i’m going to work!” you yell out to Alex as you walk out the door

-he rushes in behind you unexpectedly and out towards your car

-he already has the door opened and is offering a big grin

-you lean up and press a kiss to his lips, your heart surging at the idea that you had gotten the best boyfriend in the world

Karl Jacobs

-kinda like typing, you never thought you’d have an issue writing stuff down with your nails on

-however, this time around you got your nails a little longer than usual and it was a struggle

-as you’re scribbling down a grocery list you mess up practically every other word in sloppy writing

-Karl tilts his head when he tries reading the list and smiles

-”baby let me write the list,” he whines the next time you go shopping

-you tell him everything you need and Karl writes it down in perfect hand writing, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he gets up

-you’ll never not be shocked when he does something so simple but precious

[charthanry]

BBS: Putting the Com in RomCom (a crack analysis)

BBS has categorically been described as a romcom which we all know is a bald-faced lie made by lying liars who lie otherwise why else would BBS tumblr hold each other and collectively cry into our tear-stained pillows every night? BUT if these liars are determined to call our beloved a romcom, then here is my list of meta moments from the show that genuinely made me cackle. (Or the one time when most of my post commentary consists of WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING HERE?!!)

EP1 - Kid with pursed lips out here breaking hearts and taking prisoners.

This is SUCH a Pat thing to do so how much do I love that they let young Pran steal the scene? You know this grated young Pat sooooo BAD making it THAT much more funny. He probably lost sleep over it. And the pursed duck lips really puts it over the top for me. Who even raised you, you little gremlin? Not prim and proper, never a hair out of place, Dissaya and Mr. I Must Listen to Classical Music While I Eat Dad? While hilarious, what I love most about this is how we learn that Pat received it as good as he gave. Pran was no pushover even at the gremlin-age.

EP2 - Sighting: Man with framed picture of himself next to bed in case he forgets what he looks like.

Why, show, why? This is clearly a picture of Nanon and NOT Pran. Why didn’t they use a family photo of him with his parents or even a baby picture? Why use what’s obviously a modeling picture of their lead actor here? For a show that lives and dies in the details, this is just lazy staging. But what's truly hilarious is the pose, is Pran supposed to be giving himself a come hither look here? Like, is that what's happening every morning when he opens his eyes and the last thing he sees each night? A picture of himself seducing himself???😂😂😂

EP5 - Love Sign #2: Make eyes with your intended while wild horse neighs in background.

This is more of an audio than a visual take, but why is there a horse sound effect when Pat tries to make eyes with Ink??? LMAO. Is Pat meant to be a “stallion” in this scenario? I laughed SO HARD at this. Is this the soundtrack of Pat’s life? Like, what is even happening here? Does he just walk around campus with barnyard animal sounds following him around in his head? What does he need to be doing to hear a cow's moo??? 🐄🐮🐮🐄 You know what? On second thought, I don’t even want to know.

EP6 - BroTip: Prepare for possible gang jumping by pushing up sleeveless sleeves.

My first viewing of this scene had me going HAHAHA!!! Or as Ohm (and all of Thailand) would say 555555!!! What is even happening here? Pat, why, no, just why. And then they add the intense music in the background too? P’Aof and co. were totally trolling us right? There can’t be any other explanation. How many of the crew members struggled to keep a straight face during this filming? And poor Ohm? How many times did he break character laughing just to get through the motions of pushing up sleeves that AREN’T THERE?!! But no, it’s meant to be a serious moment??? I swear with every rewatch even though I know it’s COMING it still takes me out every single time. I keep dying over and over again.

EP9 - Bewildered man attacked by missing armhole in sports jersey.

What is going on here, Pat? Aren’t you suppose to be a pro at sleeveless wear? Was this just an NG that they thought was funny so decided to keep? It just makes Pat look like an idiot who doesn’t know how to dress himself. Is this why you walk around shirtless so often? You don’t get how armholes or sleeves work? Yet another definitive reason why he needs Pran in his life. The boy is clueless and a walking hazard.

EP9 - Oishi green tea allowing gays to be footloose and fancy free since 1993?

BRO, what is even happening here? I CRINGED so hard at this scene and the level of secondhand embarrassment is more than my burning face and ears can handle. Was P’Aof like: hey guys we have to insert this product placement here, so I want you to just go out there and sell it but reallllly mean it. And this was what Ohm and Nanon came up with?? AND P’Aof was like, great job, but can you really try selling it this time? I need more jazz hands. Maybe add the arm wave too? Ohm, I love you but no, just no.

EP9 - Man with tiny gun threatens a weaseling Waisel.

I get that this is a low-stakes show and the whole point of the gun thread was to move the narrative along and get the parents involved, but c’mon this was the best gun the prop team could come up with??? The whole thing is smaller than the dude’s palm. Like, he can barely get the tip of his trigger finger in there??? And now it looks like it’s stuck?? LMAO. I know this was meant to be an OH NO BIG BAD THING IS HAPPENING HERE but the entire thing was just so cartoonishy COMICAL to me. And why even stop there? Dude might as well be twirling an oversized moustache while he’s pointing that tiny gun.😂😂😂

EP9 - Man who thinks he has moves like Jagger, but in fact, very much does not. (Don’t tell him.)

This is such a difficult scene to capture a screenshot of but you all KNOW which scene I’m talking about. In the middle of a brawl involving a tiny gun, Pat decides he’s inside the matrix and can dodge fists and limbs so gets up from the ground like THIS. Whyyyyyy, Pat? Just pull yourself up like a normal person. BE NORMAL dude, it’s not that difficult. Okay, maybe for you it is. Pfft.

EP10 - Tough gangster tries to impress high school kids with velcro wallet.

Pat whips out his wallet and we hear the sccrreeeech of velcro when he opens it and I die (again) of abject horror via secondhand embarrassment. These boys look up to you Pat, can you not embarrass me like this? What 20-something college sophomore carries around a velcro wallet??? And why is Pran just standing there okay with all of this? You have ONE job, Pran. To rein in or at least slow down Pat’s buffoonery. He's not helping himself in that area. And the man’s got a reputation to uphold.😩😩😭😭

EP12 - TFW: I wish I had more middle fingers to give.

The high school flashback scene where Pat and Pran are flipping each other off reminded me so much of that viral gif of the two guys who were so uh, passionate about giving each other the middle finger they each had to have the final say even AFTER crossing the friggin’ street! If you haven’t seen it yet, watch it below. It is SO STUPIDLY HILARIOUS. And I could totally see Pat and Pran doing this back in high school. Only they live next door to each other so they’d race up to their rooms to continue the middle finger fight from their windows and IT WOULD NEVER END.😂😂😂

):):):):):):):) 

Thank you for attending this open mic night at chez charthanry. Be kind, tip your waitresses, ditch the velcro wallets, and leave the muscle tees at home. Don’t be like Pat. 

[minorfamilysupremacy]

I had to but top 3 favourite scenes 🥰

FUN FACT: this is actually the second version of this reply bc i ran out of space. so i saved a draft of where i stopped (and i wasn’t even done), if anyone wants it in non-ask form, because i had a million items i’d listed. let’s see if i can keep this to three this time, extracted from the original draft:

the caretaking scene: this lives permanently on loop in my head. the way vegas' hands linger just a little too long when placing the last bandage and giving pete the water; the 'i definitely have to do mouth-to-mouth, for real, bro, it's science, just trust me' ruse -- honey, your life is gonna be so much easier when you admit you want to just kiss him for the sake of it. it leads me to one of my absolute favorite fucking exchanges in the show, where pete comes clean about his own abuse and it fucking absolutely shatters and rebuilds vegas' entire worldview. (good will hunting WHOMST!!) bible and build are so fucking magnificent in this scene i get chills. their microexpressions, the bitter little laughs they give at each other's mistaken perceptions. the way the green -- vegas' signature color -- becomes more prominent as the scene goes on absolutely destroys me.

NOODLES!: ahhhhhh fuck fuck fuck i love the noodle scene. vegas is free from pretense, all decked out in his pajamas and more open about the hurts from a) his father and b) pete's refusal to eat. (seriously, the brief flash of pain/disappointment in bible's eyes there is masterful.) you can see pete fears violent repercussion, but there is no violence, because for five minutes they are just being good to one another. this scene is just so terrifically silly and tender at the same time, what with pete talking to himself and spitting his noodles back in the bowl and gargling his water. the 'if you hate me, it'll give you energy to kill me later' is one of my favorite lines, vegaspete or otherwise, or perhaps my most favorite? and pete’s just so cute when he finally does eat his noodles, and vegas is so genuinely charmed by him (hide that smile, boy, or you'll give the game away), and best of all, he's reading the book he was in the middle of before his dad showed up to ruin things. pete is vegas’ safe space, y'all. pete is his home and he doesn't even realize it yet.

OKAY I JUST HAVE TO MASH LIKE FOUR SCENES INTO ONE FOR THIS ANSWER: the post-safehouse scenes. porsche looking after pete (apo is absolutely next-level here; this is my favorite scene from him), pete crumbling every time he opens his mouth but still trying so fucking hard to keep the mask intact, and, of course, the way he and vegas are separated but falling apart in the same ways. pete mirroring vegas’ behaviors as he sobs openly SHOULD win build awards if there is any justice in this world. this is to say nothing of the alley scene, which i will be emotionally ready to discuss around 2074 or so.

OBVIOUSLY i am excluding a TON of my faves here (an accurate but more concise answer would be ‘any vegaspete scene’ honestly, but i have SO many more i rambled about) so this one was the hardest yet, haha. i’m sorry to all the scenes i love so much but didn’t reference!!! i would have posted them all if i hadn't had space limits.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 5) - Date Night

Summary: The reader and Jensen go on their first fancy date together before attending a nanny happy hour the next night. The reader makes a new friend there to Jensen’s dismay but someone from the past will come along and change things between the new couple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, lying, angst, mention of past child abuse/assault, fluff

A/N: This a rough one, not gonna lie. Enjoy!

________

Friday Night

“Y/N, I’m downstairs when you’re ready,” said Jensen through your closed bedroom door.

“I’ll be there in five,” you said.

“See you in fifteen,” he chuckled before he walked away. You walked back into your bathroom, looking over your hair in a bun. It looked like a freaking messy bun actually. You should have done it down and in big flowy waves instead. You pouted and smoothed out your dress. Of course you were bloated and you’d nicked your leg more than once shaving earlier. 

“It’s Jensen,” you said to yourself, taking a deep breath. “He’s never even seen you in makeup before. You’re fine. He’s not gonna say anything.”

You forced yourself out of the bathroom and slipped on your heels, your clutch in your hand. You wobbled for a step or two on the carpet but did better once you were out in the hardwood hall. Ten seconds later you were downstairs, heading over to the foyer area. 

“All set?” you asked, Jensen spinning around. He smiled as he stared, eyes looking you up and down more than once, not even trying to hide it.

“Y/N, you look pretty,” said Arrow as she rushed in from the family room. 

“Yes she does,” said Jensen. “We’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okie dokie,” she said, wandering off with a little wave.

Half an hour later you were sat at a table in a very nice restaurant, Jensen tugging on his collar. His cheeks were slightly pink but it wasn’t from the cold outside. 

“So...what’s a good wine?” you asked, sliding the drink list over to him. “I’m not really good with the names.”

“You like red or white?” he asked.

“Normally red,” you said. “You?”

“I like a Merlot,” he said. “You like dry?”

“Sure,” you said. 

“We’re not going dutch tonight you know right. This is all on me.”

“We can go dutch, Jensen.”

“I asked you out and this is fancy, even for me. My treat, okay?” he asked.

“Alright,” you said, looking around the restaurant and over in the distance to the bar. “You know I could go for a lemon drop actually.”

He smirked and set the list down, a waiter coming by. He ordered a gin and tonic for himself while you got your cocktail, Jensen breaking off part of a breadstick from the basket. 

“Bread’s good,” he said with his mouth full.

“So. Ackles,” you said, picking up a piece and tearing off a chunk with your teeth. He stared and started to laugh to himself. “Ah, there’s my sweet guy.”

“Thought you were gonna say boyfriend for a second.”

“This is our second official date,” you said. “So. Boyfriend.”

“Yes girlfriend?” he chuckled.

“What’s an appetizer look like in a place like this? Like a tiny cube of cheese with some dressing they’re gonna charge twenty bucks for or something like that?”

“You’re goofy,” he said, a big smile stuck on his face. “Uh, they probably have something like that. There’s normally some kind of bread olive oil bowl option.”

“Fancy people eat like a starving college student apparently,” you said. He tried to hide his laugh as your waiter brought over the drinks and a pair of menus. “Excuse me but can you recommend an appetizer? We’re both new to town and are wondering what you think is a good choice.”

“You can’t go wrong with our sourdough and seasoned oil dipping sauce,” he said. You glanced at Jensen and smiled. “The artichoke spinach dip and tartar crackers are also quite lovely.”

“Do you have anything with a little more substance? We’re quite starving,” said Jensen.

“The fried calamari and crab cake poppers combo is a great option,” he said.

“What’s calamari?” you asked.

“Squid, miss,” said the waiter.

“We’ll have that combo,” said Jensen.

“Perfect. I’ll put that in and be back shortly to get your dinner orders,” he said. He took off and you made a face at Jensen.

“Squid?” you asked.

“It’s fried. Trust me, it’s pretty good,” he said. “I could go for a good steak. You see a filet on here yet?”

“Uh,” you said, eyes scanning the page and seeing most everything was something you’d never heard of. 

“There it is,” he said. “I’m getting that and scalloped potatoes. See anything you want to try?”

“Uh, why does half of this seem like it’s a foreign language to me?” you asked. Jensen looked at his menu and chuckled.

“That would be because it’s in French. We’re in Canada and this is a french restaurant.”

“Oh. Gotcha,” you said. He got up and leaned over the back of your chair, glancing at the page.

“These are soups and salads,” he said, pointing near the top. “Sandwiches. Pasta. Main dishes down here.”

“Uh, maybe pasta?” you said. He knelt down and read off the dishes to you one by one, your waiter returning by the time he was just finishing.

“Anything I can assist you with?” he asked.

“I’ll have the fettuccine alfredo with chicken please,” you said, handing the menu to him, Jensen returning to his seat.

“Face principale?” he asked. You stared at Jensen and he smiled.

“She doesn’t speak French,” said Jensen.

“My apologies miss. What would you like for your main side dish?” asked the waiter. “Steamed vegetables, scalloped potatoes, lobster bisque-”

“I’ll have the vegetables,” you said. Jensen ordered and the waiter went to get your appetizer, a sad smile on his face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think twice about the French thing.”

“Kinda hot that you know French,” you said. “I should try to learn it if we’re gonna be up here for a few months.”

“I’m an idiot and I learned it so you’ll do just fine picking it up,” he said. 

“So where’d you learn in the first place?”

“I’m stuffed,” you said, plopping your napkin from your lap onto the table awhile later. Jensen took the last bite of the piece of mouse pie, licking his lips as he finished. “This might have been the best alfredo I’ve ever had.”

“I enjoyed it. Mostly I enjoyed listening to you talk,” he said. You blushed and looked away, Jensen letting out a small hum. “It’s funny. Doesn’t really feel like just a second date, does it.”

“No, not really,” you said. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re friends first.”

“Well I definitely like being friends with you,” he said. 

“Me too, Jensen.” 

“Want to get out of here?” he asked. You smiled and nodded, the two of you outside a few minutes later wrapped up in your coats. Your feet were cold in just your heels, Jensen’s arm wrapping around your waist when you almost slipped more than once. It was slow going back to the car, especially when it started to snow lightly.

“You know, that dress would still look hot with winter boots,” he chuckled. 

“Sorry,” you said.

“No apology necessary. I got freaking dress shoes on and my feet are cold. I can’t imagine how you’re holding up,” he said.

“The perils of being a woman,” you said.

“Well, no need to impress me is all I’m saying. I ain’t looking at your feet anyways,” he said.

“Oh well in that case I’ll wear some nice baggy sweats next date.”

“Please do,” he said. 

“You really don’t care, do you.”

“I think you look beautiful tonight. But I think you look beautiful every night. You did your hair and makeup and this is stunning, don’t get me wrong. But she’s not more beautiful than the girl at home with hair tossed up all messy walking around in oversized shirts and leggings. It’s like flowers. Both are pretty but one isn’t more pretty than the other.”

“Where the fuck did I find you?”

“At my house,” he chuckled. You whacked his arm and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Almost back to the car. I’ll blast the heat for us when we’re in there.”

“Thanks Jensen.”

“Thank you for the date, honey. I mean it. We’ll do it again sometime. Promise.”

Saturday Night

“Your boyfriend seems pissed,” said Brandon. You sipped up the last of your beer, glancing over to the bar where Jensen was tapping his finger. 

“He’s fine,” you said. “So any good parks around the west side of town?”

“Center Grove is always my choice. Good playground, nice area, cops routinely are around. Parking can kinda be a bitch sometimes but it’s worth it in my opinion. My kids love it.”

“You’ve been their nanny for five years you said?”

“Mhm,” he said, knocking back the last of his drink. “Shawn’s mom is their mom’s best friend.”

“Oh. So you had an in already.”

“You know long term gigs are the way to go in this job,” he said. “Not too many American girls come up here. Your accent is cute.”

“Is it, eh?” you chuckled.

“Like I’ve never heard that one before,” he said, Jensen walking back with two beers and a clenched jaw. 

“You okay?” you asked as he sat it down in front of you.

“I’m fine,” he said, taking a long sip. Brandon slid off his seat and made a face. 

“I need a refill anyways. Nice meeting you Y/N. We gotta hang some time,” he said as he walked away.

“For sure,” you said, Jensen rolling his eyes behind his back. “Jensen what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“Well you obviously have a problem with Brandon.”

“I don’t have a problem with him. I have a problem with my girlfriend flirting with another guy.”

“I was not flirting. I’m trying to make new friends. It was your idea to come to this thing tonight anyways.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed.

“Excuse me?”

“In case I wasn’t clear, I’m not the kind of guy where I’m okay with you dating multiple people at once. I don’t get that not exclusive shit.”

“I’m with you and only you. I was being nice. Geez, let’s just go,” you said. You got up and pulled your coat on, bumping into a guy on the way out. He turned and apologized, staring at you a little long.

“Y/N?” he asked, a big smile on his face. “My Y/N?”

“Dad?” you said, his face much older looking than you remembered but his eyes still the same.

“Dad?” said Jensen. You brushed past your dad and outside, Jensen hot on your heels. 

“Y/N,” your dad said as he left the bar. 

“Stay away from me,” you said. “Jensen I want to go home right now.”

“What-”

“Right fucking now!”

He held up his hands and you walked around the block to the car, getting inside and Jensen taking off.

“So your dad’s alive huh,” he said. You stared out the dark window with crossed arms. “So is everything I know about you bullshit?”

“What?”

“Is literally anything you’ve ever told me true? Your dad obviously didn’t die when you were a kid. All those late night talks about family and shit, you just like to fuck with people or something?”

“I was not flirting with Brandon you asshole. You didn’t need to know my whole life story the second I meet you.”

“Oh. Okay. Just your fake life story then, huh?” he said. You shook your head as he got stuck at a red light. “If I can’t trust you, I can’t employ you let alone date you.”

“Whatever,” you said. He drove in silence until you were out of the city, going along quieter roads. You were close to the house when he suddenly turned right towards the local park and stopped in the lot, putting the car in park. He touched your arm and you turned, Jensen leaning over and kissing you roughly, far more roughly than you thought he was capable of. You blinked when he pulled back, Jensen looking you up and down. 

“He won’t hurt you.”

“What?”

“Did he walk out on you and your mom?” he asked. “You told him to stay away from you. Sort of shouted it at him. Maybe you lied but maybe...I’m sorry I got jealous of Brandon. I’m still scared and I think you’re still scared too and that’s okay. If you lied about your dad, I’m gonna trust you have a good reason for it. I’m sorry for what I said. I trust you and I don’t want to know what my life is like without you in it.”

“It’s okay,” you said quietly. “I forgive you.”

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he said. “We can just go home, okay?”

“Why’d you pull over?”

“Because I knew I didn’t mean it and I knew I overreacted. I said I’d mess up when we started. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I’m 42 with three kids. Brandon is thirty and young and stronger than I am and can go out to the bar whenever he wants. You have options. You don’t have to settle for me.”

“If I’d wanted to settle, I’d have married my ex. What I wanted was the guy that forgives me for not telling him the whole story cause I’m not ready to say it. I want the guy that makes me happy and feel like I have a teenage crush but it’s deeper than that. You’re not the settle for option, Jensen. Why don’t you get that?”

“The last time I felt like this, I married the girl,” he said quietly. “That didn’t turn out so well.”

“You didn’t get the time you deserved with her. It doesn’t mean it ended badly. You loved her and she knew it. She wants you to be happy again, whether it’s me or somebody else.”

“See? That’s the shit that tells me...it tells me to keep falling for you. I’m so sorry for how I acted tonight.”

“I lied about my dad and not a little white one either,” you said with a nod. You turned away and felt his hand on your cheek. “So much of what I told you was a lie.”

“You don’t have to tell me the truth right now, Y/N.” He stroked your cheek and you glanced over, meeting his soft green eyes.

“My mom died giving birth to me,” you said, Jensen nodding. “He hated me for it. Hated me. He would hurt me when I was a toddler. When I was four he started doing...other things.”

“Four?” he breathed out.

“I didn’t know it wasn’t normal. Not until I started school. I was scared though so I never said anything. One of my friends mom’s realized what was going on when I was over playing one day. He went away and lost custody. I went into foster care briefly and got adopted when I was eight. Single mom who’d lost her husband young. That’s my mom. She was a kind person. Ray was always good to her and to me. But I asked him not to adopt me after she was gone and he knew it was because I was still scared of a dad again. Being a nanny, I’ve met fathers that look at me and I just know what was going through their head. I reported him and kinda fucked up their family situation but-”

“That was the right thing to do,” he said.

“I know it was. I’ve just...I’ve had more than one guy and even a woman walk in on me changing or into my bathroom and it’s like, she’s just the help, nobody cares. They don’t touch so it’s like...what can I even do? Then my house before this one, the guy tried getting in my shower with me and I shoved him and he broke his arm and I just don’t understand why so many people think I’m just a piece of meat. Even my ex never got why it bothered me so much. They didn’t touch me so what was wrong with it? He just didn’t get it. He would get mad if I wasn’t in the mood for sex. Nobody ever fucking gets it except you who I lied to and pissed off tonight and without a word of an explanation why, you say you won’t let somebody hurt me. Do you get why you’re the opposite of fucking settling Jensen?”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“I know you won’t Jensen.”

“How?”

“Because you’re a good person. You’re so gentle and kind. I know you’re strong and tough but I see it everyday. You should never be worried about how your kids will turn out. If they are half as good as you are they’ll be fucking great people. Your daughters aren’t gonna put up with shit and your son is gonna be kind to everyone and say fuck you to the toxic guys out there. I can already tell the kind of person you are through them and it’s a good one. A really good one.”

“I’m not the only good person in their lives,” he said. You sniffled and looked down, Jensen’s hand sliding under your chin and tilting it up. “You don’t have to apologize for not telling me all of that. Never apologize for not telling me that. Okay?”

“I never told anyone about…the other stuff,” you said, wanting to look down but Jensen’s hand holding your chin up.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m sorry it took you so long to find people that would protect you.”

“You mean…” He nodded and dropped his hand away, running it over your head. “You’re not gonna like, go back and kick his ass are you?”

“Want me to? I’m very tempted at the moment,” he said.

“I just want to go home. I could use one of those hugs right now.”

“Do you want to stay with me tonight? Just to stay, nothing more.” You nodded and he kissed your forehead, a tiny smile crossing your face. Ten minutes later you were home and the babysitter was gone, Jensen pulling you into his room next to yours. You blew your nose in his bathroom and washed off your face, lifting your head to find a pair of your pajama shorts and one of his shirts on the vanity beside you. He smiled as he ducked out, leaving you to change. You let your hair down and took off your bra before you walked out and saw his blanket on the opposite side of the bed. “Warm enough?”

You spun around as he walked inside and you nodded, Jensen pulling you into a hug. 

“I’m sorry for how I was at the bar,” you said.

“I was the one that overreacted, not you,” he said. You felt goosebumps on your arms and he pulled away to turn up the heat, nodding over to the bed. The covers were flung back and you climbed underneath, Jensen getting in on his side. His arm wrapped over your waist and pulled your chest close to his, face only inches away. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore. No one will hurt you again. I promise.”

You moved closer to him, resting your forehead against his.

“Remember last Saturday when we were on the trampoline and you talked about those safety nets,” you said.

“Yes, I do.”

“You’re a really good net,” you said softly.

“So are you,” he murmured. He kissed the tip of your nose and you shut your eyes. “What’d you want to be when you were little?”

“A princess,” you said. He chuckled and you smiled. “I wanted a prince to come take me away and everything would be just fine.”

“Really?”

“Princesses were always happy at the end of the movie,” you said. “They got the boy and they were happy. Then I grew up and prince charming doesn’t exist.”

“Cause you’re not a damsel in distress. You didn’t need the prince to save you.”

“But the prince would have made life so much easier.”

“I’m partial to badass princesses myself,” he said. You opened your eyes and he was smiling.

“I’ve never noticed your freckles before.”

“They come out more when I spend some time in the sun.” You moved a hand up and traced under his eye, Jensen nuzzling into his pillow. “Make you a deal. If the badass princess saves me, the scared prince will save her too.”

“Okay,” you said. You kissed him lazily, Jensen smiling through it. 

“Do you want to be a nanny forever?”

“Not forever. It’s an easy way to feel like you have a family when you don’t.”

“Now you do,” he said.

“Jensen you don’t know if this will work out.”

“I do and you do and we’ll take it slow anyways,” he said. “Which is why I’m asking do you want to be a nanny forever.”

“Why?”

“Because maybe someday I won’t need one,” he said. 

“I thought about being an elementary school teacher when I was eighteen for a hot second.”

“You did? You’d be amazing.”

“Pay in Texas is crap though. I make more as a nanny.”

“If money wasn’t an issue though, would you want to be a teacher still?”

“Anything at all?” you asked, Jensen nodding, nose brushed against yours. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“You okay?” he asked, reluctantly letting you out of bed.

“I’m good. I want to show you something,” you said. You slipped out of the room and down the hall to the playroom, picking up a book. Jensen was sat up in bed when you returned and crawled under the covers. You handed him the book and he smiled.

“I don’t remember buying this,” he said, flipping it over. “There’s no serial code on it.”

“You can’t buy it. I wrote a children’s book and printed a few copies for myself,” you said.

“You wrote a book?” he asked, flipping through it. “Did you draw this?”

“Yeah,” you said, Jensen staring at you. “I don’t know if it’s any good. I never tried publishing it.”

“You want to write children’s books, don’t you?” he said, starting to read the story.

“I have a number of them written out. I would make up the stories for kids at bedtime and decided to write them down. It’s kinda like whinnie the poo, that age group, you know? Same group of characters but different stories,” you said.

“These are adorable,” he said, turning another page. You were quiet while he read through for a few minutes, Jensen smiling when he shut the book. “I’ve never read a children’s book where they deal with the loss of a parent.”

“The kids really like it,” you said.

“You should publish this. Seriously. It’s cute and I’m a grown ass man and it made me feel better about Dee.”

“It’s just a story,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I make stories for a living. This whole place would fall apart without stories. This is good. You should consider trying to get it published.”

“Maybe if that nanny job doesn’t work out I will,” you said. 

“Do you mind if I keep this?” he asked.

“Not at all. I gave it to JJ in the first place.”

“Thanks. I want to read this to the twins tomorrow,” he said. He set it on the nightstand and slid back down, pulling you with him. “Why’d the mom fox die in the story? I would have expected the dad wolf considering…”

“Wish fulfillment for a nice father,” you said. “Plus I like drawing the wolf.”

“I like him. He’s fluffy,” chuckled Jensen. “Is that why you asked if I carry a picture of my kids when we met?”

“I’m done with asshole parents. If they treat their kids like shit they sure as hell aren’t gonna treat me any better. You seemed like a good guy. Good guys tend to do that kind of thing.”

“I’m not always good.”

“Yeah, you are,” you said. You shut your eyes and nuzzled close to him, Jensen letting out a soft hum. “You okay? With me being here.”

“Very. Feeling better after everything that happened?”

“Mhm,” you said. “I’m still sorry I lied to you.”

“Did you ever lie about your mom?” he asked. “I mean aside from the fact she adopted you, did you lie about her?”

“No.”

“Then you didn’t lie, not really. I’m sorry it came out like that. You should have been able to tell me in your own time.”

“You still would have been angry,” you said. 

“I still would have come to my senses too. I’m not perfect. I never was.”

“I don’t want someone perfect,” you said. Your head rested against his chest and you let out a soft sigh.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and tucked it under his chin, adjusting the blankets once before he stilled.

“Goodnight, Jensen.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

[irrelevantwriter]

House Call

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, reader being scared and horny, Rio’s BDE (y'all know what's up)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Part 1. Rio shows up unannounced to talk business. Among other things. 

A/N: It’s here...it’s happening. It took me a whole 2.5 seconds to become obsessed with Rio once I started watching GG. Ya’ll know how I roll. Anyway, this is me just dipping my toe into the water. I didn't get too deep with a plot (spoiler alert: there isn't any). It’s essentially just reader-insert into the show’s current plot, but with some smut thrown in. For fun. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Added a Part 2! Read it here.

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

***********************

“You okay?”

The sound of your friend’s concerned voice filled the line, pulling you back to the moment and the conversation you’d been engaged in before you’d burnt yourself in the spray of hot water.

“Yeah, just washing dishes.” You explained, cradling your cell between your shoulder and cheek as you maneuvered dirty dishes under the spout of water.

“So the meeting with the principal? How’d it go?” Rachel asked, getting you back on track.

You sighed, beginning to scrub at a stubborn coffee stain left behind on one of your favorite mugs.

“Fine. The kids are still having a hard time with the divorce so it’s…” You paused, unsure of how to describe the child-like brooding your son and daughter had taken to participating in since you’d separated from their father.

“Tense? Difficult? Weird?” Rachel listed off helpfully.

“All of the above.” You deadpanned, still scrubbing.

“You take the rest of the day off?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta figure out what I’m going to do with these kids. Paul said he’d come over later to talk it over.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of him.” Rachel replied, sarcasm and disdain dripping from her words.

“Well, it’s a start. And as much as I’d like to tell him to fuck off, I can’t. He’s still their dad.” You explained for the hundredth time, feeling the stress of your situation with your ex starting to creep into your body. Your shoulders felt stiff and your head began to throb with a dull ache. It was a familiar reaction these days. One you loathed.

You opened your mouth to steer the conversation elsewhere when the doorbell rang, chiming throughout the empty expanse of your home.

“Paul?” Rachel asked, obviously hearing the alert of someone’s company over the phone.

“I guess. Look, I’ll call you later.” You said with another sigh, this one more tired than annoyed. You gave up on the stained mug and moved onto drying it, shutting the water off as you did.

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You ended the call, aware that you were short with her, but unable to feel sorry for it. You had plenty of other things to worry about, none of which involved your shitty ex or his new girlfriend.

You placed your cell on the counter and turned to make your way to the entryway, mug still clutched in your hand. The ceramic cup dropped to the floor and shattered into pieces when you saw who was already in your kitchen. You gasped, clutching your chest and yelping at the familiar man in black, the dark ink splattered across his throat the first thing you noticed. Your heart leapt, your body going rigid at the unexpected visit. Pop-ups like this were never a good sign.

“I let myself in.” Rio supplied, voice low and thick with authority and charm. He wore a smirk, lips upturned at your surprised reaction. He always seemed amused by you. That fact only served to unsettle you further.

“What’re you doing here?” You managed to say between shaky breaths, fear making your own voice quiver.

“Just checking in, mama. Can’t I do that?” He challenged with his arms spread wide, daring you to say otherwise.

You didn’t.

You went to move around the large kitchen island but the shards of broken mug prevented you from getting far on bare feet. Rio took notice and strode towards you, all clean lines and hooded eyes. He had a swagger about him that radiated. It sent a clear message about the kind of man he was. Confident. Skilled. Smart. There was an ease in his movements, but a beast lay in wait inside, ready to strike when the need arose.

His piercing gaze took in your dress, uncaring of being discreet or polite. He appraised you from the tips of your painted toes to the top of your head. It was as unnerving as it was thrilling. He crowded your space. He always did. While the scent of him filled your nostrils. Something spicy, but pleasing. It sat in your nose, and you knew from previous experience that you’d smell it for hours after.

You swallowed, wanting to avoid his close proximity. You hastily bent down to gather what you could of the jagged pieces, moving around his sneaker-clad feet that stood before you. You tried to ignore his presence, tried to appear calm and composed. It was an uphill battle. The man always knew how to throw you off. He knew how to keep people on their toes. It was yet another facet of him that you both coveted and despised.

You hissed, feeling the edge of one of the shards dig into the tip of your finger. You stood and sucked the tip into your mouth, trying to clear the area of the blood that had started to surface. His eyes were on you, watching you with interest and a certain level of lust that you didn’t allow yourself to explore. You stiffened when he reached for your wrist and pulled your finger away from your lips. He inspected the cut, his flesh warm and soft against yours. It was a side of him that eclipsed the man you’d come to know over the last several months.

“It’s not bad. I’ll be fine.” You whispered, attempting to pull your hand free of his. It was futile.

“Band aid?”

“Uh...yeah. In that drawer. Next to the stove.” You pointed in the direction of the drawer, holding your breath as he retrieved the item. This time, you watched him. Watched as he unwrapped the bandage and tended to your finger with all the care of a parent with their child. He held the appendage steady as he got ready to wrap it, but he stopped himself. He locked eyes with you instead, making you shiver.

“I make you nervous.”

It was a statement. A very true statement. And yet you found yourself shaking your head; ironic because your voice felt too unsteady to use.

Your heart stopped when he placed a tender kiss to the cut. The air around you crackled with heat and tension. It was unlike any feeling you’d ever been subjected to before. It was danger mixed with primal fascination...attraction. And it called to you like a raft in a sea of treacherous waves.

He ignored your silent response and sealed the band aid over your finger, ensuring the ends were smooth against your skin. He didn’t let go of you.

“Don’t lie to me, okay? Trust is an important thing. And we’ve gotta have it if we wanna keep doing business together.”

His calm demeanor and gentle chastising made you a puddle of obedience. Your need to please wasn’t just born from fear. It was something you’d been unable to come to terms with until now. You saw it for what it truly was. You wanted to please him. In as many ways as he’d let you.

You nodded in response, agreeing to his statement.

“Let’s try it again then, yeah?” He started, eyes roaming your face. “I make you nervous, don’t I?”

“The constant threat of my life makes it difficult for me to be calm.” You said, choosing to still be untruthful. 

You forced yourself not to fidget as his stare scorched your skin. His black eyes roamed across the open expanse of your collarbone and to the modest neckline of your wrap dress. He licked his lips as he focused on the measured breaths of your chest, your breasts rising with each pass.

“That’s not the only reason.” He retorted with a shake of his head. He leaned in close, noses almost touching as he spoke. “Don’t move.”

You said nothing as he bent down, continuing your failed task of picking up the broken bits of ceramic. You observed him dutifully gathering each piece, piling them into one large hand. His face looked pensive, as if he was trying to solve an equation in his head. You leaned against the island for support and bit your lip, unwilling to give into the lecherous thoughts that haunted you at night and managed to infiltrate your dreams.

“Nice dress.”

His compliment made you pause, looking down to meet that familiar smirk. He’d set what was left of the mug onto the counter, the floor relatively clear of large fragments. His fingers now played with the hem of said dress, the flowy material dancing in the air and away from your body.

“Thanks.”

Your voice was small. The apprehension so clear that you could both taste it. He found it funny. You found it humiliating.

He slowly straightened, taking the fabric with him as he gathered it to just above your knees.

“Color looks good on you.”

Again, the juvenile warmth of his praise sent you reeling further into anxiety’s waiting arms. Inwardly, you were responding to every lick of his lips and quirk of his eyebrow. Your thighs shifted restlessly against each other, waiting for that satiation that you hadn’t felt in forever. Outwardly though, you remained as skittish as a wild horse. You were as much on the edge of pleasure as you were on retreating.

“Thanks.” You said with a pleasant smile, wanting to conceal the yearning that bubbled just under the surface. You smoothed out the hunter-green fabric that rested against your abdomen, hoping to urge his hands away from you and the dress.

No such luck.

Instead, he ran his fingers up your skirt and along the outside of your thighs and hips, almost meeting the edge of your lace panties. Your traitorous body showed its hand, your nipples hardening in eagerness. Rio’s gaze predictably caught the action. And his face showed his approval.

“How long you been divorced?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his sudden curiosity. But the switch in topic had you alert again and somewhat clear of the fog he was so insistent on throwing you into.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything?” You questioned, stepping back from his body.

His hands fell away from you finally, but they didn’t stay idle for long. They skimmed over your hips, pressing your backside into the edge of the kitchen island.

“Answer me, mama.” He demanded, head craning down to meet your eyes. The intensity of his stare made you shift on your feet. He had an amazing poker face. A skill that left you envious.

“Two years.” You dutifully supplied, leaning backwards every inch that he moved in.

“It’s been that long then.” He commented with a nod, a finger tracing along the neckline of your dress, hovering just above your cleavage.

“That long for what?” You asked, taking note of the subtle ways in which his face changed. There was no trace of the teasing, light-hearted flirting that you’d become accustomed to seeing from him. He was serious. Almost as serious as the times he’d threatened your life. His touch was more insistent, telling you what he wanted rather than hinting. His mouth lowered to your ear, his nose brushing against your neck in a far too erotic manner. Your fingers itched to anchor yourself to him. You denied the request.

“Since someone stretched you out.”

A gasp caught in your throat, though you didn’t know if it was more from his words or his touch. He’d managed to slip a hand under your dress, tracing the crotch of your panties with a dexterous finger as he spoke.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stammered, knuckles tightening against the edge of the counter you were currently gripping.

“I mean…” Rio started, lips brushing against the shell of your ear with each syllable. His finger barely teased your slit, but his voice more than compensated for the lack of physicality. “You haven’t had someone here,” He emphasized the word with a firm press of his finger against the soaked material that hid your clit from view. “In two years. Maybe more.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as he continued to manipulate your body. Your head screamed at you to stop, to pull away. But the sensation of his body pressed so firmly to yours was far too comforting to deny.

“You don’t know that.” You attempted, though the effort was obviously pointless. It was true. Since your separation and subsequent divorce from Paul, you’d barely been on a date, much less had sex. Your body was fiending for it...for him. And he knew it.

He scoffed, finding amusement in your words. He pressed his finger along the same dampened area, seeing your eyes roll into the back of your head. He licked his lips when your hand shot out to grasp at his wrist.

“Yeah, I do.” He affirmed with a nod, finger still teasing over your lace-covered slit. “He stepped out on you, didn’t he?” He continued, his eyes taking stock of the way you responded to his touch.

You had trouble focusing on the conversation he insisted on having while his hand was up your dress and practically in your underwear. You didn’t feel the need to supply an answer anyway. He already had all the information he needed.

“He didn’t deserve you.”

You were jolted back to reality by his words, straightening your spine and pushing his hand from between your legs.

“And what? You do?” You threw back, agitation seeping into your tone. You felt like he was patronizing you. He was always one step ahead. Always aware of the skeletons in your closet before you were.

“Never said that.” He said with a shake of his head, not stepping out of your space. His hands were off your body now, but the stains they’d left on you would remain there. They wouldn’t easily be erased. And you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted them to be.

“Why are you here?” You asked, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“Business.”

“A simple call or text works for that.”

“Wanted to come in person.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wore an expression of smugness, as if he knew something you didn’t, which was often the case.

“What do you want then?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” He retorted swiftly, lips pulled into a thin line.

The seriousness was back, his eyes nearly swallowing you as all humor became sucked from the room. The nerves in your stomach came back full force, the fear aiding them in their efforts. He was challenging you, apparently done with your lying.

“I…”

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin. He was too intimidating. Just too much.

“I-I can’t.” You finished lamely, shaking your head and looking down at your feet.

He tilted your chin up, his mouth only centimeters from yours as he dared you to move.

“Just say the word.” He rasped against your lips, his free hand cradling your cheek.

You let yourself stare back, taking in his dark lashes and the angles of his face. He confused you on many levels, angered you beyond belief. He made your life a living hell. And yet, you wanted him more than anything. More than the money and the thrill of crime. And somehow he was privy to it all. And he wanted to give it to you.

So you were going to let him.

“Kiss me.” You breathed out, your hands finally coming to rest on his chest.

He needed no further encouragement. His mouth settled over yours in a tangle of lips and tongues. He tasted like mint, his lips much softer than they looked. The scratch of his facial hair only added to the moment as you pressed further into him, asking him to take more.

He did.

His hands were rough, but not unpleasant as they trailed along your body. They had the marks of healed scars. Not to mention the blood of those who chose to cross him. They were everywhere and all at once. Your breasts, your neck, your waist, your ass. He kneaded where he knew you yearned for more and tenderly stroked the areas in between. You struggled to keep up as his hips pushed into yours, his own yearning making its presence known.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You managed to say between heavy breaths, Rio’s mouth attaching to your neck and sucking near your throbbing pulse.

“Why not?” He mumbled into your skin, hands unwilling to slow down.

“Things will get complicated.”

He pulled himself away from the crook of your neck, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen pout.

“Yeah, they will.” He said with a chuckle, that devilish smirk staring back at you.

It was all a blur after that.

Limbs intertwined together as you worked on the buckle of his pants while he pushed your dress up and over your hips this time. He harshly pulled the lace away, the elastic snapping against your thighs as it got caught before making its way to the floor. Your mouths didn’t separate, not even when he lifted you onto the counter. He pulled one side of your dress away, exposing the matching bra you wore underneath. Your pebbled nipples called to him and he responded, massaging the flesh with expert precision. You moaned and writhed like a woman possessed. Like a woman that hadn’t been laid in two years.

“Feels good?”

The roughened gravel of his voice made your walls spasm, the hint of self-assuredness causing a wave of arousal to seep from within you. You could only nod, wordlessly pleading with him to continue on. His touch ventured south to your spread thighs. You widened them, allowing him access to the place you needed him the most. He didn’t disappoint.

His fingers were long and probing as they penetrated your sex, slipping easily in. You gasped at the fullness, the stretch around him making your eyes squeeze shut. He let your body guide him as he rubbed at your clit, his fingers curling against your walls.

“I’m...god...I’m gonna cum.” You confessed, only somewhat embarrassed by the suddenness of your climax.

He worked hard and faster. Your nails dug into his back, your mouth landing on his shoulder as you struggled to not cry out. You bit down when the euphoria of orgasm washed over you, trapping his hand within you. He could feel every tremor he brought forth as you shook in his arms. It felt like it lasted for hours, your body unwilling to let the feeling be a fleeting moment in time.

“You still with me?” He asked, lips pressed to your temple.

You nodded, hissing when he removed his fingers from the confines of your body. You watched, feeling as if you were in a daze. He shifted his pants and boxers down, revealing his length to your ravenous eyes. The hand that had been so deeply embedded in you now wrapped around himself. He was long and hard, as rigid as his hands. You felt like a moth to a flame, hand reaching out to feel if he was real. He was.

You swiped your finger over the tip of him and were overcome with wanton pride at feeling the moisture that sat there. His jaw clenched in a way that you’d only ever seen him do in anger. He didn’t allow you to continue. In an instant he was wedged between your thighs, his body already pushing into your waiting sex. Even with the climax from his fingers, he was a tight fit. You both expelled breaths, his a mumbled curse and yours a throaty moan. You shut your eyes as a new burst of pleasure radiated from your core and traveled up your spine. There was only a brief moment of intimacy as he sat unmoving within you, letting your body adjust to him.

It was short-lived.

“Fuck...” He cursed as he began to fuck you into the counter, hands holding your hips in place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lavished yours with kisses and bites, each thrust of his hips causing his teeth to graze your skin. The chill of the marble countertop beneath your bare ass cooled your overheated skin. You bit your lip so hard you could taste blood as he filled you over and over, each pass making your walls accept more of him. He was deep and hitting that gloriously elusive spot that sat within your womb. 

He cupped your breasts while you scraped your nails down his back, hearing him growl in response. The sound made you yearn to hear more. So, you did something you’d always wanted to do...you licked the ink on his throat. You decorated his skin with tantalizing kisses, your tongue aiding your actions. He shivered against your lips, the reaction making your walls clench around him. He was, at least for the moment, a slave to your ministrations. And it was a high unlike any drug you’d ever encountered.

It was animalistic fucking at its finest. He hit every nerve, soothed every ache. The union of your bodies was enough to send you sailing off the proverbial cliff, but his touch kept you tethered to solid ground, longing for more. He rocked his hips mercilessly into you, making your back arch at an almost painful angle.

“Right there, huh?” He teased, feeling you squeeze around him in raw desire. “Yeah, that’s the spot.”

You whimpered and tensed when he savagely rubbed your swollen clit, forcing your legs to tighten around him. He laughed, the sound ominous in your ringing ears. You could only hold on as he delivered the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. You spread your thighs wider, trying to get him closer than humanly possible. You opened your neck up to him, letting him have access to your bare flesh. You wanted him all over you and leaving a scorching trail of hunger in his wake.

It was manic. It was frenzied. It was passionate. And it all combined into a seductive elixir that made fireworks burst from within.

“Shit...I’m cumming.” You warned, feeling him double his efforts. Every muscle went taut with blinding pleasure as that coil finally snapped. You felt weightless, and yet the firm body still driving into your depths made you feel sublimely solid. And whole. More whole than you’d felt in the entirety of your marriage.

It was on the tail-end of your climax that Rio found his. His hips stuttered as he grunted and groaned, releasing himself into you and painting your walls. His fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thighs while his face burrowed into your chest and neck. It was as uninhibited as you’d seen him. And you were addicted to the sight. 

You both heaved with shallow breaths, the exertion of each of your climaxes literally taking the air from your lungs. The room smelled of sex and instant regret as you straightened in Rio’s arms. He separated from your body, eyeing you as he redressed. You shifted your dress back together to cover your bra, the mess between your thighs preventing you from closing them completely. 

Before you could say anything, Rio reached up and cradled your cheek. He played with your bottom lip, his thumb once again finding the appendage. His eyes took in every part of you, as if he hadn’t fucked you senseless seconds before. He licked his lips in that dangerous way that let you know his thoughts were on more than just money.

“Business is good?” He asked, warm palm still pressed to your cheek.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Cool, cool.” He nonchalantly replied, hand leaving your face as he stepped back from your debauched body. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said with a nod, pushing your dress further down over your thighs, a lame effort to protect any modesty you might’ve still possessed. He smirked at the action.

“Might wanna clean up the mess.” He said with a cheeky upturn of his lips, hands gesturing to the remaining fragments of ceramic that still littered the floor but eyes locked solely to the spot between your legs. The place he knew he’d left a part of himself.

You bit your lip and nervously played with the hem of your dress, feeling his eyes bore into you. Despite still being fully dressed, you felt naked to him. Bare. Exposed. Vulnerable. You hated it.

He retreated, facing you as he walked backwards towards the front door. You watched him from over your shoulder, still unsure of what to make of the whole situation. 

“And lock your door from now on. All kinds of madmen running around these streets.” He quipped, eyes lighting up at his own joke.

He was gone as fast as he’d arrived, causing havoc and then leaving without a second thought. The door closed with a crisp click at his exit, the house now feeling bare without his foreboding presence.

You didn’t move from your spot. You remained on the counter, Rio still leaking from your walls and your dress still disheveled despite your best efforts. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one riddled with panic. His unexpected visit left you with more questions than answers, all of which were tinged with fear. What did this development mean for you? Did it actually mean anything? Or was he simply taking what was so obviously laid out in front of him?

Did it matter?

No. It didn’t.

Because although he may have indulged your craving, your appetite was far from being fulfilled.