#this one made me laugh while writing it

[slasherscream]

i would love to know which of the crazy ass boys gang would indulge a partner who watches reality tv? whose getting just as invested and angry and who is standing to the side saying it’s dumb and fake? (i know it’s kevin)

❥ who grins and bares it so they can bond with you ❥

Billy Loomis - This is just a bonding activity for Billy. It’s not awful. Nor is it the most fun thing in the world. It’s just one of those tiny moments that relationships are built off. The small bids for connection that build intimacy. You don’t bitch when he wants to watch Psycho for the sixth time in two months. He doesn’t bitch when you turn on trashy TV. He pulls you close, so that you’re sitting in his lap, or laid up against him, and pays enough attention to ask you the odd question or two to clarify what’s going on if he gets lost. What do you mean they switch couples?? When did they start doing that? Last week… oh I bet Luca was pissed. 

David Mccall - David is obnoxious because he pretends to be the type who is upset when you watch without him. He’ll come home, glance at the TV and gasp dramatically: Baby! Why are you watching our show without me?! How far along are you? You watched an entire episode? You know better than that, baby! You gotta rewind it, hold on, I’ll order us some pizza. Can’t believe you’d watch behind my back! This is a ridiculous pantomime that you may or may not pick up on. Mileage varies as always. David couldn’t care less about the reality TV shows you watch. But he likes the way you giggle as you rewind it for him. Or the way you light up when you’re discussing it with him. You used to spend way too much time talking with your friends about this stupid crap. Now you talk to him. Who gives a shit about whatever mindless little thing you’re watching. What David enjoys is your undivided attention. 

Jason Dean/JD - JD also sees this as a bonding activity and bid for connection… However, JD is a born hater. He bonds by talking shit. He’s not necessarily trying to be a bummer about the things you enjoy. He’s just a certified yapper when it comes to shit-talking. If he thinks something is stupid he just can’t sit in silence. This is his most underdeveloped life skill. He’s got ten minutes of quiet in him max. If he does manage to bite his tongue his face gives him away anyways. So what was the point? Will say something pretentious like: “Why are we watching people play out a badly scripted version of their lives through a screen when we could be out living ours, right now? Let’s hop on my bike and just ride, darling! Live a little!” Sir, I just worked an eight hour shift. I need to see someone who doesn’t deserve a rose get sent home in tears. Read the room. Get a grip. 

❥ who is pissed off/devastated when you watch it without them ❥

Sebastian Valmont - What can he say? Sebastian likes to watch people experience psychological torment. He’s trying to turn on the first seasons of “America’s Next Top Model" and watch a girl get sent home in tears after the judges convinced her to shave her head bald to look more fierce.This is the type of quality reality TV that makes Sebastian laugh. Watching people go through their darkest moments in front of a camera that highlights the creases in their cheap makeup is how he likes to spend the occasional date night. You had to put him onto reality tv shows, but now he’s hooked. He probably watches more reality TV than you do. If we’re being honest. You think this might be how he gets to still live out his glory days of being an unrepentant asshole. Sometimes he sighs a little too wistfully when someone is being a monster. 

Jordan Li - Jordan enjoys anything you do together. Even if they hate a particular activity, at least they’re spending time with you. Still, there are reality TV shows that Jordan really likes, such as: home improvement shows, “Say Yes to the Dress'', “Face Off”, “American Ninja Warrior”, and “RuPaul's Drag Race”. And then there are shows that Jordan puts on a brave face about. Things like “Love Island” and “Jersey Shore”. Jordan gets queasy just scrolling past them. There was a time before they became one of Brink’s favorites that their parents kept pushing them to try and be an entertainment Supe. No one is taking you that seriously, anyways! Maybe you’ll do better in the reality TV circuit. It’s unlikely Jordan will ever get stuck in projects like that now. They’ve proven they can be a heavy hitter. Proven that they’re strong enough to not need to sell themselves as cheap, easily-digestible, entertainment. Still, they don’t like thinking of the alternate world where they’re having to sit in front of a camera and do twenty retakes of “authentic” confessional room venting.

Stu Macher - He likes reality TV and doesn’t care who knows. Hooray! A shared interest… except watching these shows with him will piss you the fuck off. He has dog-shit opinions about everything. You will never be rooting for the same people. You will never agree on who handled a situation better. He’s always rooting for the asshole, it seems. You don’t even think he’s doing it to be contrary or to make you mad. He’s genuinely on their side (most of the time… he does enjoy making you mad.) Watching reality TV with Stu makes you want to kill him. It also makes you look at him funny. Why are you always siding with the bastards? You don’t think Ekin-Su needed to apologize? Stu, are you out of your fucking mind?

Josh Washington - You’re gonna try to tell me that the twins weren’t making him paint toenails while they pulled all nighters of “The Bachelor”? Sure, okay, if you’d like to believe that. And his inner circle consists of Emily and Jess? Please. He’s been watching trashy TV for years. He’s watched a little of everything. He is so well acquainted with the dark underbelly of reality TV that it would roll over for a tummy rub from him. It knows his scent. He can easily keep track of the names, faces, and plots. Who’s fucking who. Who hates who. Who’s forming secret alliances. You’ll probably be more lost than Josh ever gets. He’s a day one. He’s an OG. 

❥ who is pissed off to even be hearing about it second-hand ❥

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - He has better shit to do than watch reality TV show crap all day, and so do you. These are the kinds of harsh words that will be waiting for you if you try and get him to watch anything fun with you. Ask him one too many times and, like a parent who is annoyed that you are bothering him, he will begin to fill up any moment of free time the two of you have with activities. No, babe, we can’t watch “90 Day Fiance.” Why? Because we’ve got to run the marathon for kids with cancer and then we’ve got dinner with the mayor after that. You two are gonna be booked and busy. You were obviously bored. Now you won’t have time to even think!

Kevin Khatchadourian - Please don’t remind him so blatantly of his own intellectual superiority over you (he’s an asshole.) He gets the ick of the century when you try and tell him what happened during one of your little…programs. If you have the audacity to take it a step further and ask him to watch with you? He’s rendered speechless. Since when is this relationship a safe space? He doesn’t enjoy well-written, heart-stopping, incredible genre-defining movies and television. And yet, somehow, you’re so delusional you think he’s gonna sit through reality television with you? Don’t piss him off. He doesn’t even bother responding. Enjoy the view of his back as he walks away!

❥ secret fourth worse thing ❥

Nathan Prescott - Nathan is once again in a category of his own, which you might call: too nosy to not get into it, but doesn't want you to know he enjoys it. He made fun of you when you first started to watch reality TV. He can’t go back on his word now. If you were cuddling on the couch he’d have his face turned into your stomach and dramatically roll his eyes at your absentminded head rubbing. Could we focus on what’s important please? But then the plots started thickening and the heated exchanges started to pique his interest. He knew he was cooked when he started recognizing names, who was booed up with who… wait that disloyal prick hooked up with who this week?! He tells you to just replay the episode because you’re explaining it shitty and you obviously want him to watch it and talk to you about it. It isn’t for his benefit at all. Turn the subtitles on, god dammit.

A/N: this was really fun! how did you know i've been watching reality TV shows lately?? if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 1

*slips this into your mail slot and runs* I hope you like it, I wanted to give you a gift.

___________________________________

Things were never truly quiet. Electricity hummed. Pipes rumbled as water is pushed and pulled. Metal facets softly creaked under the vibrations. A muted drum of massive pump came from somewhere underground.

It was a poor symphony, but it was his personal, fucked-up, little lullaby. Guaranteed to be a nightly track on loop the droned him to sleep… usually.

And honestly, he couldn't imagine what it would be like without it.

Jazz rolled over to his other side in the shallows of his pool – arching his back just enough for his collapse dorsal fin to slip under him without crushing it against the floor – in the futile adjustment for comfort. After about five minutes of laying still with his eyes closed, Jazz huffed. He hadn't been able to even doze off, it was beginning to get frustrating. He shifted his head – resting on his arm at the dryer part of rubber coated slope of the concrete pier – to peek at the clock just beyond the staff entrance behind the main platform, two-twenty-seven.

Sighing and groaning loudly, he slumped in defeat, the morning staff were going to be on shift in two hours to start meal prep and in the following hour creatures all over will start waking up. When breakfast came at six, the gulls, crows, magpies – the fucking birds would be all over the aquarium squawking and trying to steal food. Then the whole place would buzz till work ended at six pm. Six to six of noise.

Jazz was just thankful that it was a monday, the aquarium was closed, so he didn't have to force himself to be extra cheerful. Just pleasant enough to get through daily check-ups and then maybe, he could try for a nap. But he wasn't optimistic.

Time seem to stretch on forever, every time he glanced at the clock, the minutes barely seemed to move. He shifted and kicked his tail, sloshing water up in a pitiful rain over him. Though the sound of water pattering along the concrete continued, and continued…?

Jazz lifted his head. That wasn't coming from his area, but it was too muddled to make out what it was. A skittering-like sound for sure, did something break? Was there a raccoon in the backend again?

With a quick spin he slipped off the pier and into his pool. The sounds became sharper, but not quite clear. Hurried footsteps of staff, far too many to be on shift at this hour, as he swam into the medical bay at the back. To where the one observation window that overlooked the staff area. Technically, the other way around, but Jazz would use it more than they did to spy on the back-workings.

Placing his hands to still his movement, Jazz saw two more staff rush past with a massive metal cart, recognizing the white shirts. Vets. There had to have been an emergency call that went out. Question was, was it an animal from the here or was it a beach rescue?

While Jazz couldn't see much passed the wide hallways on either side. The sonar map, as fuzzy as it was in his head, was picking up at least seven moving blobs in the hospital ward at the end of the hall. That was a lot of bodies. Too many to be needed for any of the animals here. An injured dolphin being brought in for recovery and rehabilitation, maybe? An oil spill with massive casualties?

Then ten more people joined and suddenly they were rushing out with equipment, heading somewhere off his limited radar. Likely rush off to the loading bay, the truck must have just arrived. Damn, whatever happened, it's all hands on deck.

Jazz pushed away from the window and lazily floated out back to the main area of his enclosure. He was sure his attendant would tell him all the news and gossip when he came around with breakfast. Till then, he might as well continue to try and sleep.

___________________________________

Couldn't have been more than a half an hour, and he felt like he was just about to fall asleep, when the familiar sound of heavy boots caught his attention. Thundering up the metal steps of the staff entrance.

"JAZZ!"

Noooo, it can't be time to get up. He refused to give him any acknowledgement and pretended he was dead just to be extra annoying. They both knew Jazz's hearing was too good for him not to hear the man tip-toe up the stairs. Heck, he could tell that there was another staff member with him, which was unusual.

"Jazz! Buddy– please, get up! We've got an emergency!"

Lights came on suddenly and made Jazz grimace with his eyes closed. "And that affects me how…?" Jazz drawled and lifted his head slightly to look over at them. Though spotting a nervous vet – not his vet either – rushing to prep a needle at the end of a long tube suddenly had him a bit uneasy. Jazz hated needles. Especially jittery hands at the other end of said needles.

"Wounded Mer, same weight class, and fortunately shares the same blood-type as you!" Blaster quickly informed and helped the vet prep multiple soon-to-be blood-bags. He then fixed his mer with a hard look. "Now get your tail over here!"

Jazz was rushing over to the sloped shallows before it fully clicked what was being asked of him. "A Mer?"

Blaster tugged on his arm and Jazz allowed him to pull him where they wanted him. Working as a team they dried, sanitized and banded his arm. "Ready for the poke?"

"Uh," he glanced at the vet, though the nerves seemed to more about the stress that happening elsewhere. Their hands seemed steady. "Just make sure you get it the first time," he said as he closed his eyes tightly.

"Thanks for being so good about this," Blaster breathed heavily with relief and gave Jazz a comforting pat on the shoulder of the arm his was still holding. The jab was harsh to get it through the mer's thick hide and it made Jazz flinch, but otherwise stayed still.

"So… are they like me?" He asked, trying to ignore the thought of his blood being drawn.

"Ya, just like you," Blaster answered softly, starting to calm down now that he didn't have to worry about what would have happened if Jazz had put up a fuss.

"Are they going to be okay?"

"We're doing our best," the vet answered clinically. "They're in rough shape. Likely a turf war judging by the injuries, or a leviathan attack."

"The team is really pulling together on this, even you, big guy," Blaster reassured and gave him another pat on the shoulder.

Jazz tried not to sound excited by the news. "Will I get to see them?"

"If they pull through, you might get more than that. Seeing as there isn't many places here big enough to hold something that big. Hope your ready for a tankmate."

He clenched his hands into fists so tightly they started to shake. He wanted that, he really, really wanted that. Please, please, please. Please don't die.

If Blaster misunderstood his trembling, Jazz didn't correct him.

___________________________________

-GLC

(hopefully there is no spelling errors ^^;)

Upd: Link to the next part!

Oh man oh man OH MAN ORCA JP FIC????

IM VIBRATING ON THE SPEEDS UNCOMPREHENSIBLE TO A HUMAN EYE RIGHT NOW PleASE THIS IS SO GOOD I LOVE IT SO MUCH I WANNA HUG YOU

I have NO IDEA if your spelling is good but it doesn't even fucking matter because the atmosphere?? THE ATMOSPHERE IS FANTASTIC. The VIBE is HERE. IF YOU MAKE THE SECOND PART I WILL GIVE YOU MY FIRSTBORN

[royalarchivist]

Technoblade: Before I get any comments from people saying, "Uh Technoblade– ☝️🤓 Actually I live in the San Francisco Bay area, and the weather here isn't as perfect as you say! I think you might be blinded by nostalgia–"

Technoblade: I'd just like to say that I am a perfectly objective source of information, how DARE you question me, get banned.

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

—

Technoblade: You know, when I first got to college, I had a conversation with a local student where I mentioned I was from California, and they heard that and said, "Oh, you're from California? Have you ever been here during the winter?" and I said "Oh, no no, I haven't" and they just kinda like, stared at me in silence for a few seconds, and then just said: "Good luck!" And then moved on with the conversation like that wasn't the most ominous thing I'd ever heard in my life. What? What do you mean "good luck"?!

Technoblade: One time I went to Texas, sometimes I visited North Carolina during the summer, and I was like, "Why is it so hot here?" but I just figured, "You know what, it can't be this hot everywhere during summer, that'd be ridiculous! Why would anyone subject themselves to these conditions?"

Technoblade: I didn't realize that California was unusual. So you know, I'd listen to like– Sir Alliser Thorne in Game of Thrones rant about, "Oh, you don't know cold!" tellin' us about how, he had like, been in some blizzard– blizzard, and during like, sub-zero temperatures, and I'm sitting here like, "No, no, I- I'm pretty sure I understand what cold is, one time it dropped to 60 degrees Fahrenheit and I had to turn on my car's seat warmers. I'm pretty sure I understand man's epic struggle against nature."

Technoblade: Before I get any comments from people saying, "Uh Technoblade– actually I live in the San Francisco Bay area, and the weather here isn't as perfect as you say! I think you might be blinded by nostalgia–" I'd just like to say that I am a perfectly objective source of information, how DARE you question me, get banned.

[ Video: why is the midwest so cold help ]

[oh-no-its-bird]

Since Ichigo dies at about 15, and Hatake get their marks at like 14? what do her clan markings look like? 👀

OHHH OK THIS IS ACTUALLY A WHOLE THING, SO,

Ichigo got moon stripes !! It's also known as the story teller stripes, and is the traditional tattoos of the Hatake clan's religious leader and story keeper. Which Ichigo does end up in training to become!

There's actually a bit of drama with the fact that Yuki, the current clan shaman, is so old (she's in her 70's, which is basically like being in her 120's for a shinobi), and she's only now picking an apprentice in Ichigo.

Yuki did actually have an apprentice before, who was fully trained and set up to take up the position whenever Yuki died— but they were one of the 5 Hatake to die to illness the winter before the Hatake were summoned to iron court (which is the event that got the ball rolling on the Hatake joining Konoha a year or two later)

Yuki settled on Ichigo being her next apprentice relatively quickly after that, but wouldn't actually tell anyone about it for some more years— stubbornly staying quiet on the topic even when pressed with increasingly stressed and worried questions about it. Ichigo was only about 8 at the time, but Yuki set to training her just a little bit under the table

It was easy enough, when Ichigo was always happy to listen to her stories and gossip about past and present events. Ichigo kind of ended up soaking in a lot of things she'd be expected to learn in the role (religious rights / mythos of spirits and gods / traditions and why they do them / stories passed down through the family / etc.) naturally throughout the years.

Finally, Ichigo turned 14 and lead her first hunt— the marker of a Hatake coming of age. Afterwards, it was Yuki's job to give her the stripes Yuki deemed to 'fit her best,' which is ofc when she gave her the moon stripes and officially announced her plans with a "teehee congrats <3"

It wasn't actually too much of a surprise to those who'd been paying attention to what had been going on, but still caught some off guard. Ichigo had been "training" for like, 6 whole years at that point, without even realizing it. So she was honestly pretty well into her education on the roll, and would probably only need a few more years afterwards to be deemed officially ready to take it on

But then ofc, she dies a year later. And Yuki dies in very quick succession. (Losing her third apprentice, and so old already, had done terrible things to her heart and spirit) And with both of them went a very large portion of the clans history.

Others in the clan, of course, still knew plenty. Yuki's teachings had not been for Ichigo alone, and many had sat by her side and listened to her stories as well. But no single person knew as much as they had or had been in the same position of authority to do things like honoring the spirits of their ancestors or assigning Hatake stripes to their young.

In their deaths, Haruka had to take up many of their duties, mostly by default via being the highest other figure of respect in that regard. But they lost a lot.

There's some sort of interesting point to be made that the Hatake's religious leader wears tattoos that symbolize a red moon. And that Kaguya-hime is among the gods they pay respects to.

I don't really have any real thoughts on it other than going "hmm." and writing that down to reference later, but like !! That's something

anyways Yuki herself is also pretty cute, I find myself enjoying her immensely, so take this art I drew for her the other day that I've been looking for an excuse to post:

[justrustandstardust]

Gojo is pathetically down bad for a certain student at Jujutsu Tech. Despite his best efforts, attempts at wooing said student repeatedly end in breathtaking disaster.

(Teen & Up, 16k, complete.)

[plusultraetc]

Fourteen Days of MHA | 7/14: First Impressions, Just One Bad Day

Shouta’s first impression of Yamada is that he’s loud.

He’d thought Shirakumo, who deposits their classmate in the seat across from him in the cafeteria and scurries away with a cry of Shouta, this is Hizashi, be friends! was bad, but Yamada’s YO! is loud enough that several people at nearby tables turn their heads to look.

“It’s Aizawa, right?” he says, still too loud, leaning across the table. At least he doesn’t assume familiarity just because Shirakumo introduced him by his given name. “I’m Yamada Hizashi. I’m in your class, but I sit waaay in the back, so you might not remember—”

Shouta does remember. Yamada has very distinctive hair, and Shouta had thought he was loud in the classroom, too. He might sit near the back, but their homeroom is definitely not big enough that he has to yell during attendance to be heard.

Yamada is undeterred by Shouta’s continuing silence as he launches into what, for all intents and purposes, is an opening monologue of relevant information. Every so often, he pauses like he’s waiting for Shouta to cut in, which of course he doesn’t, so Yamada forges ahead, gesturing with his chopsticks in hand but never quite managing to pause long enough to actually eat anything.

Shouta has to appreciate the logic of having an introductory speech prepared. Maybe he should do the same, so he doesn’t have to sit in awkward silence at times like this. At least times like this are few and far between.

You can only have so many first days of school in your life. One day he’ll graduate and never have to introduce himself to a new class again.

[thedrotter]

I have a gift for y'all today !!! 😊 Ever wanted to find a line in Re:Kinder in a single place for the sake of reference?? How about multiple chunks of lines. how about all the little variations that arise in the text with it's many endings, item descriptions, text that comes from interacting with the enviroment, and character info from the menu without having to boot up the game and go through it at long minutes!!???

well i sure did😊 Since I do a lot of fanart and think up my own silly theories and thoughts that need me to reference the game lines a lot, i have made a transcript for it for convenience's sake. A weirdly thorough transcript handwritten and proofread by me including all character lines available in-game. And I'm sharing it with you all today for anyone that wants it !!! :3 To use as a reference for creative fanworks or a quick search for a line in-game, whatever you wish to use it for!!

It uses the english translation of the game by vgperson. So naturally all credit for the game lines available in here is to her and Parun who made the game.

I did my best to organize it in a way easy to digest. Do note that I'm still human, and there's still the chance for mistake in it no matter how much I've proofread it, since I'm not even an english native speaker ^^. But I hope it serves you well nonetheless if you wish to use it.

That's my gift for today!!! Not the usual art, but still a project I'm proud of. Enjoy!!! 😊

[lorephobic]

here are my delirious saltburn notes if anyone actually wants to see them. mostly im just laying out scene order for my own reference, but theres definitely some incoherent observation & analysis in here if any of you are crazy enough to look thru it

[savage-rhi]

Fuschia/Magenta?

[maryasmorevna]

................. not to rain down on anyone's parade but barely characterized 14 year old lucerys could never have the swag eleanor or henry had

[tonariofjananda]

This was my participation piece for the @yuriolympics2023 ‘s first prompt, “Memory.”✌️

The fic covers things that will happen in Season 3 (including a theory that I’m treating as 100% canon tbh, lol) so if you’re not caught up with the manga, please keep that in mind :)

[shyspider]

Hello, I hope you have a wonderful Sunday, shy.First of all, thank you very much for the two updates today.

And I want to say I'm sorry for not commenting last Sunday about the new book but I'm back and I want to say.

WHAT DID YOU DO SHYSPIDER?

I don't understand anything.but I feel scared, angry and confused.

I'm looking forward to next Sunday.

So the sunday you sent this to me WAS wonderful. Went to a festival with friends and everything - but had the worst internet connection because I was in the country.

What do you mean, 'what did I do?' I don't know what you're talking about. 😏 I'm innocent of all charges.

[succubusvalentine]

Simon Riley who never gets mad at his wife. No matter how angry he is. CW : None. Pure fluff

Simon was practically fuming. First he'd been ordered by Price to train a group of new recruits, then, the young recruits decided to be a colossal pain in the ass, and to top it off, he'd missed his lunch break where he would normally have some respite by calling you.

So now, he was shouting at the recruits. More than usual. The recruits all looked dead on their feet. But Simon didn't care, they decided to be annoying little pricks. They needed discipline or they'd never make it in the military.

"For fucks sake, you mongrel! Run ten laps!" Simon roared at a recruit, the others looking nervous. Not wanting to be the next one to face Simon.

"Uh, sir?" One of the recruits squeak.

"What?!" Simon roared, the recruit pointing behind Simon.

Simon turned with a low growl, clearly not in the mood for anymore antics, only for him to look down and see you. His wife, in a pretty little sundress and holding a Tupperware container full of something. It didn't matter what was inside, his stomach was growling at the thought of your cooking.

"Swee'heart" Simon sighed in relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing and his arms wrapping around your waist. He relished in the squeak that came from you as he lifted you up and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"You alright, big guy?" you giggle. Simon grumbling in agreement. Making you laugh again.

Simon set you down, barking at the recruits to find Price and that he'll be taking over the training, before walking behind you with his hands on your waist to guide you to his office.

"Si, if you're busy I can go" you offer, and Simon can barely handle how fucking sweet you are to him.

Simon shook his head, taking off his balaclava and sitting in his office chair. Pulling you to sit on his lap.

"Made you some cottage pie" you grin, opening the container in your hands and handing it to Simon. God it was still warm. "I thought you were gonna yell at me with how mad you were at the recruits"

"Would never yell at you, princess" Simon said, rubbing your hips as you fed him a forkful of the cottage pie. He groaned at the taste, making you giggle.

"good?"

"so fucking good, lovie. Needed your cooking after how shit today has been" Simon smiled, bringing your left hand to his lips and kissing your wedding ring gently.

⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧

btw guys I pulled white lily cookie and dark cacao cookie while writing this :p

[lairofsentinel]

This is the same studio that wrote, among thousands of other lines:

“Everyone has a story to tell themselves to justify making bad decision and It never matters… in the end you are always alone with your actions”

"Take moments of happiness where you can find them. The world will take the rest."

The only choices you get are to lie down and die or keep going. He kept going. That's as close to beating the world as anyone gets.

"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide, either way, one's a fool."

"We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment... and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly."

"Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature."

"Men are always willing to believe two things about a woman: one, that she is weak, and two, that she finds him attractive."

"Reach down into your heart and you'll find many reasons to fight: Survival. Honor. Glory. But what about those who feel it's their duty to protect the innocents? There you will find a warrior savage enough to match any dragon; and in the end, they'll retain what the others don't: their humanity."

War breeds fear. Fear breeds a desire for simplicity. Good and evil. Right and wrong. Chains of command.”

“It's dangerous when too many men in the same armor think they're right.”

“Daughters never grow up, Anora. They remain six years old with pigtails and skinned knees forever.”

[Unfortunately, my tag became a mess, amazing tumblr ]

one hilarious example of veilguard's writing doing the quite aggressive hand-holding during a conversation to make sure people don't miss the important info. this is all in the same scene btw:

in case you missed: elgar'nan is HERE. right NOW. unlike ghilan'nain, who isn't.

i've adhd and auditory processing issues so i get easily distracted by the most random stuff but even i felt annoyed by the constant bombardment of repeated info over and over throughout the main quests

[softaestluv]

I've been thinking about this for a while, but could you write a drabble or something about Simon's reaction to you trying to sleep on the couch after a fight?

Would he be mad and fight with you more or drag you to bed or silently let you sleep on the couch??

lmk × ×

It’s rare the two of you fight.

Argue? Sure.

Purposefully annoy each other? Definitely. Simon loves crawling under your skin just so he can watch you ride your frustrations out on his cock. He can’t help it, you’re cute.

But fighting? Petty comments, growling harsh words at each other, suffocating tension, silent treatment, and stubborn avoidance? You and Simon don’t do that.

Simon admits, he’s not exactly the easiest person to date, but you’re incredibly patient with him, even when he’s not communicating the way you need him to.

He’s a work in progress.

So, when you walk out of the shower, tugging on one of his oversized shirts, he thinks you’ll crawl into bed next to him like always. Instead, you grab your pillow, an extra blanket, and leave the room. Riley follows behind you, his own dog betraying him.

You have to be teasing, trying to teach him some lesson, remind him what it feels like to sleep in an empty bed if he doesn’t straighten up. He should be the one out there, sleeping in the dog house.

He lets you lay out there for exactly 12 minutes.

When he scoops you up, you pretend you’re asleep. Even when he lays you down on your side of the bed and slides in, you keep up the act.

“Oy,” He grumbles, pinching your cheek lightly, “I know you’re awake, dove.”

A breath of a smile twitches at the corners of your lips, but you turn your face into the pillow. No problem, he hoists you in his lap easy enough, pressed against the bed frame, and rests his hands on your spread thighs.

“Why the bloody hell you sleepin’ out there?”

You scowl at him, “Don’t wanna sleep with you.”

“No?” He tilts his head, smoothing his palms under your, his, shirt, “Why not, pretty girl?”

“Mad at you.”

He huffs a laugh, “Wearin’ my shirt, but don’t wan’ sleep with me?”

You start to peel the shirt off begrudgingly, but he swats your hands away, holding you in place with his thumb on your chin.

“ ‘nough of that. What kinda man d’ya think I am? Letting my bird sleep on a bloody sofa.” He says, “Send me out there.”

“But your feet hang off the edge.” You frown and it tightens his chest, even when you’re mad you’re thinking of his comfort.

He’d wake up with a hunched back and cramped legs if it made you happy.

“Exactly, ‘ts why we both belong right here.” He pats the mattress, scooting back down the bed to lay down, holding you against his chest. He presses his lips against the crown of your head, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

[starpens]

CRASH COURSE ﾉ xia caleb x female reader ៹ explicit content, unprotected sex, virginity loss, mentions of cheating (none actually happens), pet names (pipsqueak (sorry but i have to be accurate) gege, good girl), instructional sex, blowjobs, creampie, idk what this is i wrote it in 5 seconds i just needed an excuse to write caleb, not proofread :( ˓˓ WORD COUNT ᨀ 4.9k !

asking the boy you’ve known nearly your entire life to teach you how to have sex isn’t weird, right...? right?

caleb has taught you a lot of things over the years.

he taught you how to drive a car in the shopping mall’s parking lot, how to cheat at card games, how to avoid burning the house down by letting him cook for you instead, how to sneak underneath the turnstiles on the subway to avoid fees.

he’s reliable and sturdy and a little reckless, but also patient and nonjudgmental— creating the idea in your idea that he’s kind of all-knowing, that whenever you don’t know something caleb does, that whenever you need help, you turn to no one else but him. which is precisely why you’re standing outside the door of his bedroom right now, hand lifted to knock on it.

because surely, asking caleb to teach you how to give a blowjob falls somewhere underneath that category too, right?

it’s one of those rare moments when the two of you are off work at the same time. caleb, on annual leave for the next two weeks and you, taking out a handful of unused vacation days to spend time with your favorite person in the world. it’s like old times again, when you can simply walk down the hall and hear his laugh drifting from underneath the door as he plays some stupid video game with college buddies.

thinking of the old days is exactly why you’re hesitating at the door. there’s too much shared history between the two of you, too much to lose if this goes badly, if you’ve been reading him wrong all along and he doesn’t want the same thing. there’s no way you can march in there and ask the boy you were raised with teach you how to—

“door’s open, pipsqueak,” caleb calls, somehow knowing you’re there because of course he does. you used to complain that he must’ve secretly implanted a tracker in your arm because he always knows your whereabouts, which made games like hide and seek with him impossible.

knowing it’s too late to play it off, you walk inside his room, greeted by his devastatingly gorgeous grin. “hey, you. lemme guess— the fridge is empty? no? lightbulb in your room need changing again? huh… or did you just miss me?”

“uh,” you mumble, shifting your toes in the soft carpet of the rug in the middle of his room. “not exactly. i was just wondering if you had time to talk and— … you’re not wearing a shirt.”

you realize how dumb you sound as you point it out, it’s just that your brain short-circuits, turning into a syrupy mess at the sight of caleb without a shirt on, his dog tags resting against bare skin. you’ve seen him like this before, of course— but not since he up and left, gallivanting off into the world to become a hotshot military pilot.

he’s always been nice to look at when you think he isn’t paying attention, but god he’s pretty. your eyes blink almost in disbelief as you take in his broad, muscular form that did not exist while he was a cadet in basic training. your gaze can’t help but snag on the ripple of his abs, or the thatch of brown hair trailing from his navel to disappear beneath his gray sweats. he swivels in his stupid gaming chair, smiling at you with his stupid face—

“uh, yeah?” caleb laughs, forehead creasing in confusion like you shouldn’t be surprised and really, you shouldn’t. caleb is like a furnace, blood running hot even in the middle of winter. “gran’s got the heat turned up to max again. it’s like she wants to kill me.”

“yeah, right,” you shake your head, laughing skittishly. “sorry. i’ve got a fan you can borrow, if you want.”

“thanks,” he says, magenta eyes dragging over your form suspiciously, taking in the way you’re standing in the middle of his room fidgeting like a leaf in the wind, hands white-knuckling the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing, knees knocking together all nervous and cute. he frowns, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees to give you his full attention in that heart-stuttering way he often does.

“what’s with you? not that i’m not glad to see you, but… did something happen? did someone do something to you?”

“no, no— nothing like that,” you hurry to reassure, voice cracking on the last word as your cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment, trying to find the words to say what you need to without crashing and burning. swallowing around a lump in your throat, you glance at the paused screen of caleb’s game before blurting out—

“can you teach me how to give a blowjob?”

caleb immediately chokes.

a lesson on what not to do.

the overclocked fans on caleb’s gaming rig whirs in a soft hum, the neon lights in his room flickering crimson streaks over his handsome face in the dark. he wonders if it’s post traumatic stress or prolonged exposure to cosmic radiation in the sky forcing him to hallucinate. obviously, he’s got too many marbles in one jar and not enough in the other because there is no way he’s heard you correctly.

slowly, he removes his headset. “come again?”

“i’m awful at it, ge,” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in exasperation. in fact, you don’t know if you’re awful at it or not because you’ve never tried. you’ve been too busy waiting on the man in front of you to stop torturing you both, but caleb doesn’t need to know that. “you see, i’m dating this guy, right? and we’ve been hitting it off well. i can tell he wants to take it to the next level, but i’ve never… and you— you’re good at everything, so i just thought…”

“thought i would give you lessons,” he finishes for you, his voice deepening to a rougher edge that makes you shiver. “so you can suck your boyfriend better. do i have it right?”

“y-yeah…”

“since when do you even have a boyfriend? you didn’t tell me anything,” he says, doing nothing to mask the disappointment in his voice.

“uh, we’ve… been seeing each other for a couple of weeks?” you fumble, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. “i didn’t want to say anything yet. in case it didn’t work out.”

“so you want to learn how to suck dick for a guy you’ve known for a couple of weeks?” he counters, a muscle in his jaw twitching. he’s got no right to feel jealousy, not when he’s wasted so much time attempting to be one thing in your life when you clearly wanted something else. he’s got no right, but the thought of you on your knees for someone else, someone that isn’t him, makes his blood boil enough that he already knows what his answer will be.

however, you’re already backing up towards the door, about to make a quick retreat. your plan was horrible, shame burning your skin like a brand. “what am i saying? oh my god, you’re right it’s stupid and wrong and gross. can we please just forget i even came in here—”

he lets you ramble for an excruciatingly long time, then he pushes out of his gaming chair and grins down at you like you just asked him to make a quick run to the convenience store. he stretches his arms above his head. “let’s do it.”

“w-what?”

you didn’t expect to get this far, honestly. you expected caleb to laugh at you, ruffle your hair, and call you ridiculous. but instead, he’s already striding to his door, thumb flicking the lock with a decisive click. when he turns, his expression makes your breath hitch— those unusual purple eyes molten, staring straight through you.

“first thing’s first, we need to lay down some ground rules, soldier,” caleb tells you playfully, stepping closer until your breasts brush against his midsection. his hand lifts, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “if you need to back out at any moment, you say so. no guy’s pleasure is worth your discomfort. and if i hear his name, whatever it is…” he pauses, eyes narrowing. “this stops. understood?”

you nod eagerly, fighting your smile as his scent envelopes you. he smells like spearmint gum, your shampoo that he’s been stealing since the two of you have been back at the house, and a hint of sweat from the stifling air in the room.

“use your words, pipsqueak.”

“y-yeah, i get it.”

his smirk is all teeth. “good girl.”

caleb guides you over to his bed, sitting down on the edge. his big hands reach for you, circling your hips and pulling you towards him until you’re standing in between his spread thighs.

“alright, my little student,” he jokes. “you wanna get him all riled up before the main event so start with something small like… a kiss,” he murmurs, eyes lifting to glance at your mouth as his finger traces the hinge of your jaw. “you do know how to kiss, don’t you?”

“of course i know how to kiss,” you grumble.

caleb nods and then curls his hand around the nape of your neck, pulling you down to his level. you lean with the pressure, slotting your hands in the junction between his neck and shoulder, sliding them up until you cup the underside of his jaw. then, you’re kissing him— kissing caleb, the boy who used to patch up your scraped knees with cute band-aids, who let you crawl into his bed after nightmares, who pretends he hasn’t thought about kissing you, about making you his, for years.

the kiss is messy, desperate and hungry, decades of pent up feelings behind it. a string of saliva keeps your mouths linked together whenever you pull back for air and when caleb’s tongue swipes across your bottom lip, you whimper and part your lips to let him in, body melting against his front until your weight’s toppling him back onto his elbows, hitching your leg over his waist to crawl on top of him.

his grip on your waist tightens, gently pushing you to stand once more. “this is feeling less like a lesson, and more like you just wanting to do this with me,” he teases, making heat flare across your cheeks.

caleb guides your hand to the waistband of his sweatpants, the heat radiating through the fabric searing your palm. breath hitching, you begin to sink to the floor in front of him but his hand shoots out to stop your descent with a breathy laugh. “no no no, c’mere. you’re gonna hurt your knees down there.”

backing up, he moves until he’s lounging against the headboard, impossibly long legs stretched out on either side of your sweet figure.

“still wanna do this?” he asks, lifting a brow. when you nod, he continues to speak, voice gravelly, “take it out then.”

your fingers fumble with the drawstring a bit, struggling to undo the military knot caleb’s tied there, but you manage eventually. peeling back the waistband of his sweatpants to free his cock.

you should’ve known it would be just as pretty as the rest of him— it’s the biggest one (the only one) you’ve seen in person. he’s thicker than he is long, flushed dusky pink with veins that make your cunt clench with the desperate need to feel them dragging along your inner walls. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, watching you reach for it, nearly sobbing when your hand wraps around him.

“fuck—!” his hips jerk and stutter in shock, hand shoving yours away with a quickness. you frown and bite your lip, retracting your grip as if you’ve been burned.

“oh no,” you rush out, moving back to sit on top of your hands like a scolded kindergartener. “did i do something bad? did i hurt you, cal?”

caleb’s chest heaves, breath punching out of his lungs rapidly, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to slow the speed of his heart down. he’s dreamt about you touching him like this for ages, and the image of your dainty hand nervously wrapping around his cock will be seared into his brain for the rest of his life. you crawl back towards him slowly, seriously worried. “caleb?”

“i’m fine, pip,” he sucks in another breath, then opens his eyes to look at you. “didn’t mean to scare you. you didn’t do anything bad, you just surprised me. go ahead, touch me again.”

“if you’re sure,” you mumble, then hesitantly circle your fingers around caleb’s shaft again. he’s ready for it this time, hot against your palm when you give him an experimental squeeze, making caleb hiss through clenched teeth. “how’s that?”

“a bit tighter,” he instructs, palm closing over yours to adjust your grip. you squeeze him tight, and the hitch of his breath makes you squirm, stickiness gathering between your thighs at the sound. “don’t just squeeze, guys like it when you stroke. base to tip— no, don’t yank it like a fucking joystick, pip. god.”

his protest makes you burst out in giggles before caleb is shushing you with a severe look, his purple eyes narrowed. sucking your plump lower lip in between your teeth to keep from smiling, you nod at him with an exaggeratedly focused look.

“wet your palm,” he tells you, rolling his eyes at your wrinkled nose. “getting a handjob from a dry hand hurts, it’s like sandpaper.”

“are you saying i have dry hands, caleb? i moisturize daily, unlike you,” you whine out, but you listen to him anyway— you’re a good student, after all, and you don’t want to do anything that’ll make caleb want to stop. you lick your palm a few times, eyes on caleb the entire time.

the next time you touch him is with a spit-slicked grip, dragging your hand up and down his cock in an inexperienced, sloppy rub that should feel uncomfortable, but caleb eats it up— hips jerking involuntarily, pearls of watery precum already beginning to leak from the slit of his cock. your gaze is transfixed on it, a little greedy too, watching it stain your knuckles with each stroke.

it’s that same greediness that makes you lean down and brush your lips against the head of his cock, cherry tongue lolling out to tentatively taste the salt-bitter precum beading there. caleb’s hips immediately kick upward in a desperate twitch, but he forces them still, knuckles ashen where they reach down to grip the sheets.

“easy,” he rasps, voice fraying at the edges. his thumb strokes your cheek briefly. “just the tip first, okay? don’t go trying to swallow me down or anything.”

you do what he’s taught you so far; flatten your tongue, swirl it around the head— like that, fuck— press it hard against the thick, sensitive vein running along caleb’s underside, then repeat. every time, you’re rewarded with caleb brushing your hair back, murmuring soft praises, or your personal favorite— his deep, almost nasal groan, the hard planes of his abdomen flexing underneath the heady heat of your tongue.

it’s intoxicating, watching him fall apart like this— exactly what you wanted when you walked into his room. you want to pass his class with honors, please him even more, so you drop your mouth open a little more and suck him in deeper.

too deep.

the thick ridge of his head nudges against your uvula, tears springing to your eyes almost immediately. little startled chokes cough from your throat as you pull off caleb’s cock, bands of saliva stringing from his tip to your mouth in a way that should be gross, but you don’t care one bit, too busy trying to catch your breath.

“shh, shh— breathe,” caleb soothes, eyes darkening with something perilously close to reverence and pride. “through your nose, slowly. you can’t force it, that’s why you keep choking. when you’re ready, try again.”

you let caleb thumb away your tears like he’s done countless times before and when you’re ready, when you’ve had enough air to breathe, you let him guide you back onto his damp cock. eager, swollen lips bringing him in against your cheeks in a hot, branding suction that twists his insides up.

he’s supposed to be teaching you, showing you the ropes so you can please your stupid boyfriend, but you barely even need it— god, you’re so good at this without even trying. how can he focus on teaching when he’s got all of his focus pointed towards trying not to shoot his load down the back of your throat like some inconsiderate asshole?

he can barely look down at you because every time he does, your teary eyes glance up at him through thick lashes with an expression that begs for praise. he knows if you didn’t have a mouth stuffed full of his cock, you’d be asking him am i doing it right, ge?

his thighs tremble, eyes lidded as you finally find a steady pace— mouth bobbing up and down, spit bubbling at the base of his cock where you’re starting to make a mess on him.

and when your hands dip down into his sweatpants, cupping his balls in your soft hand, caleb’s vision whites out, his climax rushing to the front at a rapid pace. before he can cum, though, he takes two fingers and pushes at your forehead, hauling you off his cock with a wet slurp. his chest heaves, dripping beads of sweat that glow in the haze of the neon lighting in his room.

he looks wrecked, and you fight your triumphant smile, schooling it into something unsure and pliant, batting your eyelashes. “did i… did i do it wrong?”

“fuck, no,” his chuckle is hoarse and ruined, calloused thumbs swiping spit from your chin as he gazes up at you meaningfully with those hooded eyes. “just don’t wanna cum down your throat.”

“o-oh.”

the implication makes arousal bubble low in your belly, thighs squeezing together in need. caleb tracks the movement, nostrils flaring as he grins knowingly. “yeah, you don’t want that either, do you, pipsqueak?”

for a while, the two of you just stare at each other in disbelief. you don’t know how to tell caleb that you’d take him in any form he’s offering himself in, pining after him long enough that it’s painful. nothing you ever did got his attention, not in the way you truly wanted. he’s protective and possessive in all the right ways, but he’d never make the first move.

he’ll never come out and admit that he wants to spread you out on his bed and fuck you dumb, mark you as his so nobody else can have you. it took you coming to him to even get this far, so you might as well take matters into your own hands once more.

“teach me the rest, ge?”

the rest.

caleb releases a pained groan at your words and you think he’s going to refuse you, but then he’s flipping your positions, pushing you down onto the mattress with ease. he makes quick work of his sweatpants, shoving them down the rest of the way. then, he wrestles your panties off your hips and tosses them somewhere across the room.

“look at you,” he whispers, pushing your shirt up— his cock leaking a bead of precum at the sight of your pretty tits. he reaches forward, toying with your puffy nipples, grinning at the sound of your soft whimper.

“c-caleb.”

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy, you get that?” the confession comes out sounding suspiciously like a whine. he gazes down at you like you’re water and he’s a man lost deep in the desert, dying of thirst. “you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world. look at these cute tits, just begging for me to touch them. and—”

his big hands sink into the fleshy part of your upper thighs, opening them to get his first exclusive look at your pussy. his thumb parts your folds, spreading one side apart to watch the way your entrance twitches. caleb dips one finger into your cunt and could fucking cry at how warm and tight you feel. “fuck, you’re so wet. is this all ’cause of me?”

“d-don’t look at it so shamelessly, you pervert,” you scold him, squirming back and forth in his hold as you try to snap your thighs shut. “stop teasing me or i’ll hit you. this is embarrassing!”

“why not?” he tilts his head, giving you that boyish grin that makes your heart stop. “after i’m done with you, it’ll be mine anyway. my pretty pussy. my girl.”

you huff and drive your fist into his shoulder before folding your arms over your breasts, lower lip stuck out in an unhappy pout. caleb winces, though mirth still shines amongst the nebulas in his eyes. he leans down to kiss your pout away, chuckling in amusement. “okay, okay, don’t hurt me. i’ll give you what you want.”

and then, he’s wrapping a hand around the base of himself, kissing your clit with the leaking tip of his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit. he coats himself in your wetness before he finally notches against your entrance and slowly pushes.

the pressure makes air stutter out of your chest, blunt and unyielding. he immediately notices your struggle and drops forward on his elbows, caging you safely in his embrace. he kisses the corners of your eyelids, licking away stray tears.

“i hate hurting you like this,” he whispers in your ear, hips drawing back and crawling forward again. you gasp, eyes falling shut, and he shushes you once more. slides a hand down to play with your clit to distract you, which only makes you clench up around him. his jaw is clenched tight enough to shatter the bone, hand fisted in the sheets next to your head. “shh— relax and let me in. it’ll feel good in a second.”

“i-i don’t know if i can,” you say, trying to force your body to accept him, but when he sinks in those first few inches, you whimper and dig your nails into his biceps. “y-you’re so big, gege.”

“f-fuck, don’t—” caleb grunts and his fingers grip the soft sides of your belly, holding your body to his like a lifeline. “don’t call me that right now. i might cum. i’m gonna put the rest in, okay? be a good girl for me and take it. i-i can’t wait any longer.”

he draws out and presses forward all the way in, burying himself to the hilt inside your sweet pussy. his gaze drops to where you’re split obscenely around him, cunt fluttering in protest at the stretch and a ragged groan tears from his throat. it takes every ounce of willpower the military beat into him not to cream himself right then and there.

“c-caleb!”

you whine as caleb retreats slightly, only to surge back in, fucking a little deeper this time. the weight of his cock stretching you out borders on cruel, but you would die before you ask him to stop, your walls squeezing him in a vice grip. it takes a few trials and errors (“keep your hips down, pipsqueak” and “i don't know, maybe a little to the l— fuck, right there oh my god”) but eventually, caleb builds up a good rhythm, the cool metal of his dog tags pooling in the valley of your breasts as he fucks you with deep, steady strokes; bottoming out each time with a guttural groan.

“fuck— stop clenching so much i’m gonna lose my mind,” his breath scalds your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as he fucks a little faster. “so fucking good. that’s it, baby. you’re doing so good. taking every inch of me like this.”

he’s right, it is so fucking good— no, it’s better. your nails scrape against caleb’s back. shivering at the hot pleasure singeing your nerve endings each time he fucks into you. it doesn’t take long for pressure to gather in your lower belly, a band waiting to snap.

you can’t help but wriggle a hand between the two of your bodies and circle a trembling middle finger around your swollen clit. “nngh, you feel so fucking good, cal.”

“a-are you- god, that’s so hot,” he grunts, glancing down at the way you’re toying with your clit and it turns him on so much he’s speeding up, cock pistoning in and out of you, his thrusts deepening until he’s nearly kissing your cervix, he’s in so deep, your thighs slamming against his hips as you try to close your legs when the head of his cock brushes right up against your sweet spot, creating starbursts behind your eyelids.

“oh god, cal— i-i can’t!”

caleb’s grin is feral, grinding deep to press into that swollen spot inside you relentlessly. “knew i’d find it,” then his fingers joining yours and it’s so much better than your own, two digits rubbing quick circles into your sensitive clit. you’re a babbling mess at this point, the pleasure too much to keep up with. “can you cum for me? can you let me feel it? please? i’ll never ask you for another thing if you give me one right here, right now.”

what are you supposed to do, deny him? you couldn’t even if you tried, not with the heat in your belly full to bursting, needing an escape.

“’m gonna c-cum for you, ge, just for you,” you sob.

caleb has seen many versions of you over the years— grumpy and pillow-marked in the morning with syrup stains on your shirt at the breakfast table, covered in sand and sun-kissed at the beach, screaming at him to do something about the jellyfish sting on your leg, in sleek black dresses at the military balls you attended as his plus one that made all his comrades stop and stare. but you’ve never looked prettier than you do right now. his dog tags between your breasts, your creamy pussy fluttering around his cock, and your pretty face twisted in pleasure as you’re about to cum for him.

he hopes that when he dies, he’ll go out with this image in his brain.

those big doe eyes of yours roll back into your head, hands frantically pushing at his abdomen as if he’s trying to escape the overwhelming friction of his cock. you cum hard, thighs trembling, vision winking out. wet droplets of tears stream down your cheeks as white heat washes over your body, the pleasure bleeding through your limbs like wildfire.

seeing you like this, what is caleb supposed to do? not follow you? he’s been holding his own orgasm back since you barged into his room in one of his shirts, begging to be taught how to suck a cock. there’s no way he can last through seeing— through feeling— you cum around him. his rhythm fractures almost immediately and he knows he’s on thin ice, fraying at the edges.

“gonna cum,” he grits out, voice mangled. “fuck, i’m gonna cum. where do you want it?”

you don’t waste a second, babbling out the answer desperately, “i-inside, ge, cum inside me. give it to me please i want it so bad i’ll do anything!”

that’s all it takes.

one more sloppy thrust and he cums right after you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you still. he breathes choppy, ruined moans into your neck as he pumps his release deep inside your cunt before he collapses against you, damp chest heaving against yours, giving a few more weak thrusts of his hips as his climax ebbs.

you don’t know how long the two of you lay there, struggling to catch your breaths. you’re satisfied and pliant as putty underneath caleb, unable to move from his heavy embrace. he’s a wall of solid muscle, one that is pressing you into the mattress. “caleb, you’re heavy.”

“gimme a minute here, pipsqueak,” caleb chuckles breathlessly against your sweaty skin, pressing a wet kiss to your neck. “i just had the best sex of my life and can’t catch my breath.”

you begin to smile in pride, but then your eyes narrow as his words register through the fucked out haze clouding your brain. “wait, you were having sex before this?” you ask, jealousy bubbling up in your chest. “was it that one sergeant? the one who kept giving you lovey dovey eyes at the DAA gala?”

“mmm, nope,” he answers almost immediately, kissing your lips quickly to placate you, making your heart swell big and bright for the boy on top of you. “chill. saved myself all this time for you.”

your heart begins racing stupidly fast at that. “sap,” you tease, before an idea pops in your head and you reach for your phone tossed haphazardly on caleb’s bedside table.

caleb’s grip on you tightens as he notices you reach for it, a dark cloud shuttering his loving expression. “what are you doing?” he demands, the venom in his tone startling you a bit. “texting him already? that eager to try out what i just taught you?”

you frown in confusion until you remember the excuse you used upon coming into caleb’s room. wow, the boy you’re in love with is an idiot. giggling, you lean up and press a sweet kiss to his cheek before opening the camera on your phone and snapping a quick selfie of the two of you.

“no, you big dummy, i’m taking a pic of us losing our virginities together so i can add it to our photo album,” you explain simply, grinning. “and there was never any boyfriend, i made him up.”