#this post didn't show up at all when i posted it so. trying again

[theactualsunshinechild]

Seeing this post always immediately reminds me of a fun story from early on in my relationship that my partner and I affectionately refer to as

The Can Opener Incident

This was back in my college days. That semester I was living in a dorm that was more like a collection of small apartments on the very fringes of campus territory. My partner had come over to spend the night at my dormroom, and we were going about making some pasta in the little kitchenette. The pasta was already fully cooked and strained when we suddenly encountered a problem:

The canned pasta sauce I had bought was not a pop top, and rummaging around the kitchen for a can opener revealed that I had neglected to bring one.

Not one to settle for miserable, dry pasta on a cozy home date, I ran over to the dorm room next door and asked to borrow a can opener. They're a little startled to find someone knocking on their door at 9 PM, but they let me borrow it with no resistance. Upon bringing it back is when the problems truly began.

You see, all of my life I had used a can opener which you latched to the side of the can and twisted the knob to make the sharp ring cut into the top of the can vertically, parallel to the side of the can. This one looked similar, all the right parts were in the right places, so I gave it a shot... but nothing happened. My partner comes up and tells me I'm using it wrong, and I think to myself "oh, okay, so maybe he's used this kind of can opener before, I'll let him at it," and I hand it off to him.

The can opener my partner has used his whole life is the kind that you latch on to the TOP of the can, so instead of holding the handle at the side, you're holding it horizontally over the top of the can. I didn't know that kind of can opener even existed, so when he tried using this one his way, I looked at him like he was insane. This look quickly intensified as this method also didn't work. Things rapidly went downhill from there. He defensively explained the way his can opener at home worked, and I started pointing to the structure of the can opener and arguing why this one wouldn't work that way. We're a little frustrated, but it's nothing some pasta can't fix, so I propose I simply go over next door to the people who I borrowed the can opener from and ask them how to use it.

As I reached over to take it from him, he held it out of my reach.

"No! I'll figure it out myself!" He announced.

"What? Why? It's easier to just ask the owner," I argue, jumping around trying to get at the items.

"Because I can figure it out!"

Okay. Fine. I guess he wants to solve this like some kind of puzzle for enrichment. I give up and I wait. The fiddling begins. I'm standing there watching him try increasingly improbable methods of getting that thing to work over and over. The pasta is getting cold. He's testing methods that have already proven not to work, trying new methods that physically couldn't work, then trying the ones that have already failed us all over again. My stomach growls.

"We should really just ask," I grumble, hungry and frustrated.

"No, I've got this."

He does not fucking got this. I want my goddamn food and I do not have time for this puzzle solving.

"Give it here."

"No."

"I'm just gonna take it to the owners and ask them to show us how to use it, you can come with."

"No! I want to figure out out myself!!"

"And I want my food god fucking damn it!!"

This went on for a bit. The pasta was drying to the side of the pot and getting crusty. At some point during this yelling match I got so pissed off that I stormed out of my own apartment into the cold with no coat on.

'I need to make him see reason!' I thought to myself, making my way through the snow. One building over was where two of his friends were rooming together. I knock on their door, boiling with rage. It is 10 PM.

"Hey, can you come over? [Partner] is being completely unreasonable and obstinate over figuring out how a can opener we borrowed works and won't let me take it to the owner to ask. Please help me convince him to hand it over, I'm literally too short to wrestle it from him."

"Alright, let me grab my coat."

We head back over to my place to find my partner Still Messing Around with that godforsaken can opener.

"Let me see that for a second," says his friend, taking his coat off. I experienced a moment of relief, thinking to myself, 'Finally!' as my partner pouted for a second, but relinquished the can opener.

This peaceful glorious relief fizzled out into horror as his friend began to try to open the can the same way I had.

"That's weird. It really looks like it should work this way..." he mutters.

"Try it from the top, that's how my parents' works," my partner suggests.

"No no, that won't work, just give me a second to figure it out."

Oh my fucking god.

I stared blankly, watching them study the can opener and turn the can this way and that, both completely absorbed in finding the solution to this hour long problem. I was going to lose my fucking mind. Perhaps in that moment I really did. Shellshocked, I stood, wondering how it had come to this. I just wanted some fucking pasta and a relaxed night in, and instead I've gotten these goddamn STEM majors milling around in my kitchen at 10:25 PM arguing over how to use a can opener that isn't even mine. So I went and did what, in retrospect, I should have done ages ago: I went next door for help.

I can't imagine what my neighbor must have thought of me, showing up over an hour after borrowing their can opener, looking as if something inside of me had died, and, with a hint of desperation in my eyes, begging them tearfully to come next door and show us all how to use their can opener. Over an hour after borrowing it.

Well, whatever they thought of it all, they did oblige my pleas. Their arrival thankfully broke up the debate, and as all three of us watched intently as hawks over their shoulder, they cracked open that can of pasta for us.

Using it the exact same way I had tried at the start of it all.

It was just dull.

"I don't need a shopping list; with effort, I will remember that I need this item"

Okay but will you be able to remember that you already bought it? Because apparently I can't.

[pomefioredove]

@hxney-lemcn said more cater fics and I am here 2 deliver ✌️✌️

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ friends kiss, too

type of post: short fic characters: cater additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, friends 2 lovers ON TOP! a little making out

Every time Cater drags you through one of these things, you ask yourself why you let him, and every time, the answer is the same: he's your best friend, and you love him.

It's the very same reason you let him spam you with texts and annoy you with surprise selfies. It's the reason you rarely hang out with anyone else, because you know it makes him jealous, though he'd never admit that.

It's the reason you're here, now, awake in your room well past curfew.

Despite the threat of a Housewarden who would flay you alive if he caught you and Cater sneaking around in the dead hours of the night, your bestie was absolutely insistent on this all-nighter.

It's a trend on Magicam, he said, and he had, of course, pouted and whined like a sad puppy until you agreed to "support him" by keeping him awake.

By two in the morning, you were more bored than tired.

"Pass. Pass," Cater says, swiping through dating profiles on his phone. "Hm... no, pass."

You sigh and slump against the headboard of your bed. "You've said that word so many times, it doesn't sound real anymore,"

"Ughhhh. Is Sage's Island where hotties go to die? I just want a cute holiday romance!" he exclaims. "Think of the pics!"

You roll your eyes. You'd heard that exact string of words probably ten times in the past few days.

"You can't date someone just for couple photo ops,"

Cater pouts. "Oh, yes I can. I specify "nothing serious" on my profile! It's not like I'm lying!"

Another eye-roll. He's technically right, as always, which just makes you even more annoyed.

But you don't want to get into an argument about the morality of flings right now.

"And it's cold out. Who am I gonna hold when it gets even colder? It's cuffing season, hon,"

Something about the way he says that bothers you. You try not to think about it so much.

"Well, you'll always have me," you tease.

Cater giggles, and sets his phone down on the bed, a subtle way of showing you that you have his full attention now. "Oh? What's this? Sounds like you're offering,"

"Not what I meant," you counter. "I'm your bestie, not your bae."

"Boooo. What are you, a nun? Friends cuddle all the time,"

Again, he's right. He likes being right, and you can see that on him now, too. He has that competitive glow on his face.

You smile. "Sure, sure, but we all know that cuddling isn't what you're looking for,"

Cater gasps, feigning offense with a hand placed delicately over his heart. "I am not that easy! I'm starting to think you really do want me all to yourself,"

If anything, it's the other way around. Since befriending him at the start of the school year, you'd always had the feeling that he took up all your time on purpose. But you don't say that.

"Besides," he goes on. "There are a lot of things that besties can do that are perfectly friend-like. The segregation of romantic and platonic is a totally oppressive amatonormative structure, anyway."

You roll your eyes. "You have got to stop reading those infographics. Do you even know what any of those words mean?"

"Not the point! I'm saying that there's lots of cute stuff we can do while remaining besties,"

He's very enthusiastic about this. You can't tell if it's his penchant for being right, or something more.

"Pfft. Okay. So, what, friends can kiss?"

"Obviously," Cater crosses his arms over his chest, giving you that smug look of his. "Friends kiss, too."

"Then prove it,"

The words that had you had been holding in the back of your mouth for the past few minutes escape before your brain can stop them.

Even Cater, who's never surprised, pales a little.

Your mouth opens, then closes, then opens, again without your thoughts offering any support.

"I didn't mean-"

"Okay,"

You blink. Something hot and cold at the same time runs through your body- adrenaline, anxiety, maybe it's just your own blood heating up at the way Cater leans closer, cupping your face in his hand, his fingers curled under your jaw and thumb gently brushing against your cheek.

His hands are kinda sweaty. You don't really mind, and even if you did, it wouldn't have mattered, because his lips are now sweetly pressing against yours.

You fit together quite nicely. As if he was just meant to kiss you.

It's hard not to think about everything all at once; his warm hand moving to cup your chin and hold you close to him, his hair brushing against your face, the way his lips still linger with spice from whatever he'd eaten earlier...

It's not perfect. But it's him, which is close enough.

Cater pulls away, his breath dancing across your lips, but he gives you no time to recover before he's closer, kissing you again with a sort of heat that matched the taste of his mouth.

He holds your face in both hands, shamelessly pinning you against the headboard and sitting in your lap as if he belonged there, always.

Minutes go by. Maybe hours. You wouldn't have noticed, or cared, either way. When you finally part from one another, it's felt like years.

You feel like an entirely different person. As if the world had ended and begun again in the six minutes you had been kissing him.

Cater sits atop your thighs, panting, his face redder than his Housewarden's hair, that of which would have flayed you both if he were to catch you like this.

Luckily, it's just the two of you.

"See?" Cater finally mumbles, dismounting you and scooting back to where he left his phone. "Platonic."

You're too breathless to argue.

You suppose you'll let him be right again.

[emotionoitme]

i didn't know (2)

i didn't know - skinshape

this is the second post for this chapter because of tumblr's block limit. read the first one here

“this one?” she holds up a silky black fabric, “or…this one?” it looks the same, but red. 

he stares at the options blankly for a second.

“i, uh…the red one?” he answers cluelessly. either way he’s gonna wanna rip it off of her the second she puts it on. 

she gives him a look to elaborate. 

“i don’t know,” he sighs, “you could wear a garbage bag to dinner and look good.”

“oh, that would be cute,” she rolls her eyes, setting the options back down on the bed. 

it was one of those rare days where carmen had taken off work to relax, sprawled out on her bed—shirtless with unruly curls. 

“try ‘em on for me,” he suggests, folding his arms behind his head. 

her eyes dart to the bulge of his biceps, his armpit hair, having absolutely no idea why the sight is so enticing.

“mkay,” she smiles, pulling the hem of her borrowed shirt up over her head, revealing nothing besides panties underneath. 

“fuck,” he groans, enunciating the word sharply, graciously taking in the sight in front of him. “come over here.”

this puts a grin on her face. no matter how many times she does it, he always has the same reaction. she begins to saunter over to his side of the bed, watching how he tilts his chin up like he’s expecting a kiss. 

“i could just wear this tonight,” she suggests, trailing her finger over his jaw. 

he gives a hum of approval. “except we wouldn’t leave the house,” caressing her hip gently. 

“we could have a night in,” she suggests. he shakes his head. 

“we always do. i wanna take you out.”

“yeah?” she leans in, placing a gentle kiss to his lips, “you gonna wine and dine me?” 

“mhm. give me a real kiss.” 

she giggles and leans back in again, giving him another soft, barely-there peck before pulling away again. he tightens his jaw and snaps the band of her panties, making her release a small yelp. 

“more,” he demands. 

“so needy,” she teases, tracing her finger over his lip, catching the bottom one and pushing it down to show his teeth. she loves using his own words against him. 

“fuck off,” he laughs, turning his head away. 

“i’ll give you a real one on our date.”

“i have to wait that long?” 

“mhm,” she picks up the black dress and walks in front of the mirror, holding it in front of her body, “you can work on your self restraint.”

“i have plenty of self restraint,” he argues, sitting up onto his forearms.

“yeah right,” she slips into the fabric and threads her arms through the straps. 

“oh, and you do? you came onto me within the first month of living here.”

“i would’ve done it earlier if you were home more often,” she admits unashamedly. “what do you think? cute?” turning so he could see the front of the dress. 

“you-,” he stops in his tracks, eyes flickering over the way the fabric hugs her figure, “i wouldn’t say cute.” hot is more fitting, “but yeah, i like it.” 

she rolls her eyes, and slips the straps back down her shoulders. 

“but y’know that means you have less self restraint than me, right?” he asks, revisiting the disagreement, “because i was gonna keep it…professional.” 

“professional, my ass. i saw the way you would look at me when i first moved in.” 

“wh-how would i look at you?” 

“how you’re looking at me right now.”

oh. his eyes snap back up to her face, having been caught red handed. it’s not his fault she looks good. and after all, he is just a man. 

she turns away from him and shimmies the dress down her hips. 

“okay. fine,” he concedes, craning his neck to watch her breasts in the mirror, “but i did restrain myself.” 

“please,” she scoffs, “i had you wrapped around my finger the second i got here.” she turns back to him, and watches his eyes flicker down her body, then back up. 

he takes a moment to respond, a look of contemplation on his face. she wasn’t wrong, at all. but he still felt the need to contest. 

“tell you what,” he sits up, “we can put it to the test.”

she gives him a questioning look, tilting her head to the side. 

“no touching. no kissing…first one to break loses.” he has a smug smirk on his face.

“you’re not funny,” she says, unamused.

“i’m being serious. you say i don’t have restraint, but i know you don’t.” 

“you’re gonna eat those words. i’m gonna kick your ass at this game,” she retorts. 

“yeah?”

“mhm. winner gets head.” 

“fine by me,” he nods. either way, he’ll win. 

“i’m still gonna hold your hand tonight, though.” she pouts.

“yeah. we’ll just keep it uh…PG.” 

she snorts out a laugh at this. “PG?” 

“mhm.” he nods. “family friendly.” 

“okay. well get out of my room then. cause i kind of wanna pounce on you.”

carmen lets out a soft laugh. this was going to be an easy game.

-

…or so he thought. 

up until the moment she came down the stairs in that fucking red dress. 

it hugs her curves like a glove, dawning dainty straps and a plunging neckline. his brain actually stutters for a moment watching her descend the stairs, just silently staring at her with eyes wide as saucers. 

a grin forms on the girl’s face at his stunned expression. she put the dress on expecting a reaction, but wasn’t expecting speechless. 

“jesus christ,” is the first thing that exits his mouth, and it comes out strained. 

“you like it?” she asks, giving a slow turn so he could admire it at every angle. 

“it’s-yeah…you look…amazing.” 

“bet you wanna touch, huh?” she teases with a grin on her face. 

“i’m-yeah. fuck yeah, i do.” he exhales, standing from the couch, walking closer to her. 

“well, you can,” she reaches forward to straighten out his suit jacket, “if you keep it PG.”

he lets out a small chuckle at this, placing a hand on her hip, stroking his thumb against her. he studies her face. the way she’s done her makeup is classy and light. she’s wearing a red lipstick that makes him wonder what it would look like smeared across her face. 

“what’s up with your tie?” she asks, breaking him out of his trance. she’s furrowing her brows at the knot. 

“oh, i, uh…i can’t really tie one,” he admits bashfully. “i’ll do it for you,” she gives him a soft smile and reaches to undo the knot. 

the way her fingers brush against his neck leaves his skin feeling hot. 

like most things between them recently, it feels very domestic, having her tie his tie. he can’t stop staring at her as she does it, either, transfixed with the way she’s all dolled up for him. 

“there,” she loops the knot, and pushes it up to tighten, “very handsome.” her hand comes to the side of his face, and she strokes her thumb over his jaw. the way their eyes lock feel more intimate than carmen expects, feeling as if he’s baring his soul under her gaze. he wants to kiss her so bad, inwardly cursing his juvenile challenge he posed hours ago. cursing the fantasies that flood his mind of keeping her at home—providing for her, having her tie his ties and pack his lunches and have his babies. cursing the cruel way in which the world seems to rip away all that brings him joy. 

“you, uh…ready to go?” he clears his throat, pulling away from her, turning his head to hide a pained expression. 

“yeah. let me just grab my wallet.”

“leave it,” he commands, “you won’t need it.” 

a slight look of surprise forms on her face, morphing into a smile as the implication seeps in. 

“just wait for a second,” she turns to walk to the stairs, “it’s on my nightstand.” 

carmen grabs her wrist with a “hey,” stopping the girl in her tracks. 

“what did i just say?” he chides lowly. “leave it. let’s go.”

she turns to face him, taking in his serious expression. stern and handsome—it makes her want to push. but she figures she can save it for later, after she wins. 

“yes sir,” she responds, gazing up at him endearingly. 

he’s almost a little surprised at her obedience. feels himself puff up a little at the name. 

without another word, he opens the door and offers his arm. she takes it happily. 

-

the entire date ends up being a lot fancier than she ever would have expected. 

carmen had explained to her, as they rode in the back of the private car he had ordered, that he wanted to make tonight really special. partially to make up for the fact that he hadn’t been gentlemanly enough to take her out on a proper date before tonight, but mostly just because he wanted to spoil her with some good food before she leaves. 

“now, uh…i know you said you didn’t wanna go to my restaurant. but i was thinking we could just stop in so you could see it.”

“n-no, i do wanna go,” she asserts quickly, “i’d love to see it. i was just a little…embarrassed.”

he lets out a small chuckle at this.

“you don’t need to be. i’ll get us a private table and everything.” he nods, reaching over to rest a hand on her thigh. “no one will bother us.”

“yeah?” it sounds promising. 

“yeah, baby. i’ll take care of it.”

he pulls out his phone to make a call. 

it makes her stomach flutter a little bit.

when they arrive, she’s a bit taken aback by the bear. she already knew it was a nice place—though she wasn’t expecting the type of michelin star dining that leaves people speechless. 

they’re seated the moment they walk in, and escorted to a table near the back of the restaurant, slightly hidden by the thick foliage of a potted plant. 

carmen pulls her chair out for her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before sitting down across from her. 

“this is…it’s beautiful in here, carm.” 

“yeah?” he can’t help the boost her words give him, looking around a bit, “you think so?” 

“it’s incredible,” she nods, “i had no idea it would be so fancy.” 

he lets out a small chuckle at this, placing his hand atop hers. he goes to thank her, but is interrupted by the greeting of their waitress. 

the girl smiles in reply, feeling bad for the clearly nervous employee that has to serve the big boss. 

they order signature cocktails that cost so much the prices aren’t even listed on the menu. she supposes this follows the premise that if you have to ask for the price of something, you can’t afford it. it makes her grateful for her wallet left atop the nightstand. 

“what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you’re back home?” he asks, taking a sip of the old fashioned he had ordered. it’s easier to talk about when he’s not thinking about how soon it’ll be a reality. 

“go to the beach,” she responds quietly, after a moment, “and get in the water. even if it’s freezing cold.” 

“yeah?” a smile forms on his face at the mental image. 

“yeah, i uh…like chicago. but i really do miss home. and i miss my friends.”  

“totally.” he gives her a knowing nod. 

“carmy, do you-” she sighs, fidgeting with her ring, “can i call you? when i’m back?” 

“you fuckin’ better.” he responds quickly. 

the girl smiles at the sternness of his response, and reaches out to touch his hand. 

“okay,” she nods, “good. cause i’m gonna miss you.” 

“yeah, it’s…it’s not gonna be easy.” understatement of the year. “it’ll work out though. i’ll come visit you or somethin’.” 

and despite the weight of the circumstances, she smiles at this, and brings his hand up to her lips, placing a slow, tender kiss to the side of it. just wanting to show her appreciation. “you’d like it, i think. it’s really different from here.”

“yeah?”

“mhm. and my friends would freak meeting you.”

“why’s that?” he raises his eyebrows. 

“cause i mean, look at you. i’d probably have to fight them off.” 

carmen lets out a soft laugh at this, shaking his head in disbelief. “y’know, i’ve thought the same thing about you? just wanna keep you to myself.” 

she smiles, and moves from kissing his hand to kissing his fingers. 

carmen rests his thumb on her cheek, tightening his jaw as she moves onto his middle finger. how she places another kiss, pressing her lips to him, holding his wrist gently and looking up at him through her eyelashes.

the sight is kind of erotic. 

“you, uh…” he clears his throat, shuffling forward in his seat, “you giving up on our game?” 

“no,” she has this innocent look on her face, like she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing, “this is PG.” carmy feels the immense urge to shove his fingers in her mouth and make her suck. 

“nothing about that is… stop,” he grunts as she softly bites him. it’s clear that she’s trying to get him to fold. and she’s right on track so far. 

“fine. you’re no fun.” she pouts, releasing his hand and sitting straight. 

“i’m not gonna lose to you.” 

“yes you are,” she smiles, resting her chin in her hand. 

his eyes flicker down to the strain of her breasts against the neckline of the dress. maybe he is. 

“nah.” he shakes his head. “no way.”  

her gaze roams over him, and she bites at her lip. 

“well i might. you look so slutty in that suit.” 

“i-…what?” 

“you heard me.” 

“i look…slutty?” there’s a perplexed expression on his face. 

“super slutty. you’re so getting it when we’re home.” 

“jesus,” he exhales a laugh, averting his eyes from her face, “you drunk off that one cocktail?” 

“no!” she smiles, rolling her eyes. “i just thought you’d wanna know. i can't stop looking at you. you’re giving me dirty thoughts.” 

he meets her eyes again with a smile, and puts his hand flat on the table, reaching out for her. when she gives him her hand, he glances at the red nail polish adorning her fingers. 

“i, uh… i can't stop looking at you either.” he runs his thumb over her skin. “i’m…crazy about you. you know that, right?” 

“i know,” she purrs, softly raking her nails over his skin softly, looking at him through her eyelashes. 

it him feel a little feral. he takes a deep breath in through his nose. 

“so, you can give up on this stupid challenge already?” his tone is low. 

“no way,” she pouts, “i want my prize.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. and don’t forget this was your idea in the first place.” 

he goes to defend himself when he’s cut off by a familiar chuckle. 

“well, shit, welcome back!” 

the girl freezes, staring straight ahead at carmen. the voice is easily recognizable. she hesitantly turns her head to put the name to a face. 

“richie,” carmen greets unenthusiastically, giving him a small nod. 

“you just can’t get enough of us or what?” richie chuckles, glancing at the girl quickly. he does kind of a double take, snapping his head back to her with wide eyes. 

she sheepishly meets his gaze, trying to not crumble under the intense look he’s giving her. 

“this is, uh…” carmen narrows his eyes at the man, “this is my girlfriend, -” he introduces her name. 

richie blinks slowly, like he’s trying to process, repeating her name. testing how it feels in his mouth.

“uh, nice to-…nice to meet you. i’m richie.” he thrusts his hand forward. 

“nice to meet you, richie,” she smiles, giving him a gentle shake. this is the most intense eye contact she’s experienced in a while. the silence is tense, and he’s staring at her with this perplexed admiration. 

“you’re…wow,” richie chuckes, “do you have an older sister or something?” 

“jesus christ, richie! go fuck off back to the front you asshole,” carmen snaps, face growing slightly red. “hey, i’m sorry about him,” richie apologizes to the girl, “he forgets that this is a nice establishment where we don’t use crass language.” his eyebrows are raised as he smooths his jacket. 

she opens her mouth to respond, but carmy’s scolding cuts her off, snapping at the man to go do his job and “stop fucking around”. 

“hey, i just wanted to come introduce myself to your lovely date,” richie puts his hands up in defense, “can i get you anything else, sweetheart?” he asks the girl, “you want another one of those?” pointing to her cocktail. 

“maybe after dinner, thank you,” she responds politely. 

“ahh okay, i like the manners! you could teach your little boyfriend over here a thing or two.”

the man has a goofy charm about him, and although carmen is getting more irate by the second, she’s amused. 

“i’m trying. but he’s kind of stubborn.” her eyes flicker over to carmen, giving him a playful smile. his frown softens at this. 

“ha! don’t i know it! last week he-”

“richie,” carmy interrupts, “can you go check on our order?” 

“carm,” the girl groans. they didn’t place their order yet. he gives her a pleading look to just go along with it. 

and whether it’s the use of his nickname or the intonation of her voice, this look of recognition washes over richie’s face and his eyes widen. he looks at carmy, then back at her. a laugh bubbles out, and he slaps a hand over his mouth, clearing this throat. his face is red.

the girl almost dies of embarrassment on the spot, knowing exactly which dots are connecting in his head. 

“okay! yeah. well. nice meeting you. i’m just gonna…” he gestures behind him, backing away with a stifled grin on his face. 

when she looks back at carmen, his head is in his hand and his eyes are tightly shut. when richie is out of sight and he finally looks back up to her, there’s a pained looked on his face. 

“i’m-…jesus christ, i'm sorry about that.” he exhales. 

the girl feels dumbfounded by the situation, and doesn’t know what to say. 

she tries to keep it in, but bursts into giggles. there’s a brief look of surprise on the man’s face which forms into a small smile. he’s giving her the kind of bewildered look that says “i’m glad you found that funny because i was about 3 seconds away from getting physical”.

she rests her head in her hand, trying to take deep breaths and stop her laughing. it doesn’t really work. 

carmy’s expression of bewilderment softens and he begins to grin watching her. 

she finally gets control over herself and straightens, huge smile on her red face, wiping a stray tear from her eye with a big sigh. 

carmen thinks it’s probably the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. and there’s this sharp pain in his chest that feels like love but also like loss. like he’s discovered this secret to life that’s about to be stolen and never given back. 

his thoughts are interrupted by their waitress setting plates down in front of them. she introduces the dish, and tells them that chef sydney plated it specially for them. 

the girl has a big smile on her face, as she raves about how nice everything is, but carmy can’t help but feel a bit sad for the rest of the night. 

-

they return home hand in hand. the chill november air smells crisp like winter. leaves in the gutters rustle with the gentle breeze. 

as they walk from the car, she wraps her arm around his and leans in, resting her head on him for a moment. 

he turns his head and smiles at her. 

“i don’t know if i ever told you this…but uh,” he glances over her face, “you’re really beautiful.” 

“thank you, carmy” her soft smile grows, “i think you have told me.” 

“not enough.” he’s kind of in a trance, pace slowing as he watches her face. she giggles and pulls him forward to the entrance. 

the doorman of their building lets the two in, giving a small smile watching the young lovers laugh, that gleam of infatuation shining bright over their faces. 

as the elevator doors close, and she turns to face him, their laughs slowly cease. they stare at each other intently. 

“stop doin’ that” he mutters lowly.

“doing what?” 

“you keep looking at my lips.” 

“i really want to kiss you.” she bites at her lip, eyes fluttering as she keeps staring. 

carmy exhales harshly at this, clenching his fists to keep his hands to himself. 

she leans forward, bringing her face closer to his. he smells so fucking good, looks so handsome in his suit, she’s tempted to just tear him apart with her teeth. 

“do it,” he challenges quietly, their lips so close. 

she almost gives up on the challenge, leaning just a little closer, then-

ding

saved by the bell, literally. the elevator doors open to their floor. 

she gasps softly at the noise, pulling away from him, face feeling hot, core tingling. 

she had complained earlier, but this challenge is fun.

they hurriedly make their way to the door of their unit. 

the girl stumbles in her heels and almost face plants, but carmy catches her, wrapping an arm around her waist and preventing her from falling. 

without warning, he hoists her up, trying to throw her over his shoulder. 

“carmy!” she yelps, “put me down!” secretly hoping he doesn’t. 

he hoists her up some more, and she folds over his shoulder, dangling upside down, laughing harder than  she has in a long time.  

“you’re too clumsy,” he teases, hand securely gripping onto the back of her thigh, walking them the last 20 feet to their door. with his free hand he retrieves his keys, unlocks the door and nudges it open. 

he only puts her down once the door is closed behind him, and she wobbles on her feet when he does so, gripping onto his arms for stability. 

her face is rosy from the blood rushing to her head, and she has a girlish smile on her face as she looks up at him. 

“you’re strong.” 

he just smiles softly, gazing down at her. 

“can you make me another one of those moscow mules?” 

“yes, chef!” she returns, kicking off her heels and walking towards the kitchen. 

he runs a hand through his hair, sighing longingly, and follows, sitting on one of the barstools opposite the counter where she stands. 

“put on some music?” she asks softly, turning on the kitchen speaker. 

“what do you want me to play?” he opens his bluetooth and connects. 

“i dunno. something romantic.” the girl has a sweet smile on her face, measuring out the vodka for his drink. 

he shuffles an oldies playlist—the songs from the 1940s/1950s that sound like real love. like loving and being loved unconditionally. like settling down and coming home to each other every day.  

“good choice,” she compliments, cracking open a ginger beer. “i love this kind of music.” a frank sinatra song plays softly. 

“me too. it’s kind of nostalgic.” he thinks of the old black and white movies he would watch with his mom.  

“here,” she hands him the cold drink, garnished with mint and lime. 

“thank you,” he has a small smile on his face, taking a sip. it’s bubbly and refreshing. 

she clicks the speaker up a few notches, and hums along, putting away all of the drink materials. 

carmen loves the sound of it. 

the girl saunters over to him and perches herself on his lap, hand circling behind his neck. 

his arm wraps around her back as she steals his drink to take a sip. 

“good, huh?” he praises, dragging his thumb along the fabric of her dress. 

“it’s okay,” she sets the cup down, “not as good as the michelin star cocktail i had earlier.” 

“i disagree.” 

“oh really?” she has this smile of disbelief. 

“mhm. this could be award winning, easily.” 

“you’re just saying that.” 

“no. m’serious.” his hand rests on her knee, and he rubs it along her leg softly. 

she just smiles at this, and leans in to pepper kisses along his cheek and jaw. the first song fades into the next. 

“wanna dance?” she smiles against his skin.

“dance?” 

“yeah. slow dance with me.”

“i, uh… i don’t know how.” 

“what do you mean you don’t know how?” she giggles, standing up from his lap. “come here.”

he slowly joins her in the living room, a bashful expression on his face. he’s never been able to dance. it’s always made him feel stupid. but even so, he approaches. 

this love of mine goes on and on. 

she takes his hand and gently puts one on her waist, holding the other. she loops her other arm around his neck. carmy finds his nerves are almost immediately eased. 

they sway gently. the light is low and an ella fitzgerald song resonates through the room. it’s slow, and kind of sad. but still romantic. 

though life is empty since you’ve been gone.

carmen closes his eyes and rests his forehead on hers, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly sentimental.

his arms wrap around her further, and he pulls her closer. the music has an old fashioned grainy sound to it that makes it sound sweet. 

she leans in to kiss his neck, chest pressed flush against his. she feels a surge of warmth throughout her chest. feeling grateful. relishing the moment. resting her head against him. 

the two just sway gently, taking light steps ever so often. 

it almost felt as if they were playing pretend—both dressed in their nicest clothes, tipsy off of $20 cocktails, swaying to the romantic music. pretending the end isn’t in sight. 

i ask the sun and the moon. the stars that shine. 

he pulls back to get another look at her face. tries to ignore the way his throat tightens. 

what’s to become of it, this love of mine?

the girl’s gaze is longingly fixed on his handsome face. 

“i really did have a wonderful time tonight,” she whispers.

he gives her a smile, but it looks kind of sad. 

“i’m glad.” 

“i don’t really know how to say this, but…” she drops his hand and wraps both arms around his neck, getting a bit closer, “i…i’m really happy i met you.” 

he releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, eyes flickering over her face. he really wants to kiss her. 

“i-…you know i’m never gonna be able to stop thinking about you?” 

“i know, carm. i won’t either.” she hates how sad he looks. “but it’ll get easier, yeah?”

“yeah.” it’s gotta be the biggest lie he’s ever told someone.  

“i love you, you know?” her confession comes as a whisper. 

“i know, baby,” his tone is low, and he tightens his grip on her hips, like he’s afraid of her disappearing, “i love you too.”

what’s to become of it, this love of mine?

the song fades out slowly, and for some reason the music stops all together. the silence is thick, and the two lovers stare at each other with a palpable tension. 

her eyes dart down to his lips.

“i um…i think i give up.” she whispers. 

his brows furrow. before he can ask her what she means, the girl leans in and presses a firm, sweet kiss to his lips. and as innocent as the gesture is, it makes the air feel hot. makes it feel heavy. gives him goosebumps all over his arms. makes him groan.

almost instantly, carmen grabs the back of her head and pulls her against his lips, desperate to get more. he really does try to match her slow pace but he just needs it. he slips his tongue into her mouth, not even realizing how bad he needs it until he tastes her. 

the girl reciprocates for a moment, a small smile forming at the unexpected ferocity. her hands come to his chest and she eases herself away from him, feeling him chase her lips. 

“slow down,” she teases, helping to alleviate some of his hunger with a gentle kiss, a small grin on her face. 

she’s really good at using his words against him, he thinks to himself. 

“you look pretty,” the girl says in a low tone, eyes raking over the lipstick she’s left smudged over his pouty, swollen lips. slutty is probably the more accurate term. 

“pr-…what?” his brain stutters. 

the girl swipes her thumb over his lips and shows him the red stain, before leaning forward to pepper gentle kisses along his cheek, jaw, down to his neck. 

it surprises carmen when she keeps moving downwards, threading her fingers into his tie and loosening the knot, kissing and nipping at every inch of skin she can find. she moves eagerly, but gently—really savoring the way he tenses and shudders from the light touches. this time feeling as if she holds the power. 

the girl drops to her knees, smiling up at his look of wide-eyed shock as she fumbles with the buckle of his belt. 

“w-what are you doing?” he rasps, clearing his throat. 

“what do you mean?” she’s looking up at him innocently, slowly undoing his button and zipper.

“you, uh…you don’t have to.” he’s fixated on how pretty she looks down on her knees for him, “i know we made that bet, but if you don’t want to,-”

she pulls his briefs down to expose his cock and cuts him off with a breathy moan. it springs from confinement, tip red and throbbing. the sight alone is enough to send heat pooling between her legs, and she hungrily dives forward to lick a single stripe up the side of it. 

carmen lets out a low groan, still surprised by how enthusiastically she dove to her knees—her droopy eyes, the satisfied grin on her face looking up at him—it’s as if she didn’t even care about the challenge. like it’s prize enough just to please him. 

the girl softly grips his cock, leaning in and planting kisses teasingly along the length of it. making her way to the tip. it twitches in her hand. she flattens her tongue against the head of his cock and just pauses there for a second, looking up at his twisted brows and red cheeks with an amused expression. trying to gauge him. 

carmen intently watches her—pink tongue, manicured nails, looking up at him through her lashes. he lets out a guttural groan when she swirls her tongue around the head of his cock. 

the girl takes a breath and dives forward to take him into her mouth. 

“jesus.” his hand comes to card through her hair, pushing it out of her way as she hungrily takes him in. 

he’s thick and heavy in her mouth. she gives a few bobs of her head, coating him in her saliva, trying to find what makes him tick. tasting his distinct flavor and pressing her thighs together to try and chase some relief. 

“fuck, that’s-,” he exhales sharply as she moves her head up and down the length of his shaft, saliva coating his skin, beginning to stick to his pubic hair, “that’s good. keep doin’ that.” it’s more of a plea than a command. 

she doesn’t, though, instead easing her mouth from his cock, watching as a string of spit connects them as she pulls back with a soft giggle. 

he knows he’s completely fucked for her when his erection twitches at the noise. he rakes his eyes over her flushed face and chest. the way her lipstick is smudged across her spit-glossed lips. 

“keep doing what?” she asks teasingly.

“you-…stop fuckin’ playing with me,” he rasps exasperatedly. 

the girl smiles at his tone, and leans forward to give gentle kitten-like licks over his throbbing head. 

“m’not-” a kiss, “playing with you, carmy,” another kiss, “i’m just…enjoying myself.” she gently jerks the length of him, opening her mouth, bumping him against her tongue with every few strokes. she finds herself getting aroused trying to push his buttons like this. 

“you’re-mmh…you’re gonna fuckin’ get it if you don’t stop.” 

“you want me to stop?” she asks sweetly, “okay.” she drops her hand and sits back on her heels, watching as his erection bobs up and down. 

carmen’s gaze darkens, jaw clenched. 

“you-…” he scoffs, “i can see right through what you’re doing.”

“oh yeah?” she tests, “what am i doing?” 

“you’re trying to get me to get rough with you.”

bingo. she kind of wants a face fucking. 

“no i’m not.” the girl bites at her lip unconvincingly. 

“yes you are. and i'm not going to.” 

“wha-why?” she pouts, scooting closer to him. his cock brushes against her cheek. 

“not like this. i don’t wanna hurt you.” he reaches forward to brush a piece of hair behind her ear, letting his hand trail over her face. 

“you won’t,” she whines, eyes darting between his face and his raging erection. it’s big, so maybe he will. but she doesn’t care. “i can take it.” 

“you like to argue,” he grumbles, taking ahold of her face, squeezing her cheeks together slightly. she looks so cute like this. 

“carm,” she whines, “i can take it. promise i can. please?” 

carmen releases her face, trailing his hand behind her head and gripping her hair. with his other hand he fists his cock and gently eases it forward, rubbing the tip against her slick, pouty lips. 

“open,” his tone is low, and he slowly pushes himself into her mouth when she complies. he goes until he feels restriction, and pulls back. 

the girl lets out a sound of disagreement at this. 

“hey.” carmen chides firmly, “you’re gonna take what i fuckin’ give you.” he watches the way her eyelids flutter at his stern tone. the way she shifts her body overtop her heel.

the girl lets a sigh out through her nose and tries to exercise patience as the man slowly rocks his hips forward and back, never breaching the halfway point. remaining gentle and delicate in his motion. 

when she tries to sink her mouth further forward, he grips her hair and harshly tugs her back. her yelp is muffled around his cock. 

“what, baby? that hurt?” his tone has a mocking edge to it. “thought y’said you could handle it.” he pulls himself out of her mouth so she can respond. 

“i can.” her voice trembles. face is red hot. panties soaked with slick. 

“yeah?” he slaps his cock against her cheek, “gonna be a tough girl for me?” 

“yes,” she pleads, eyes fixated on him, enthusiastically embracing his shift of dominance.  

to her surprise, carmen steps away from her. he’s giving her this look as if he’s about to devour her. silence, for a moment. like he’s thinking. 

“take off your dress.” 

she blinks, processing the request for a moment. after she shoots up and undoes her zipper, she hastily shoves the fabric down her body, letting it pool around her ankles before stepping out. and by the time she’s about to get back on her knees, carmen’s own clothes are on the floor next to hers. 

the man graciously rakes his eyes over her nude body, thanking each and every saint he could think of. grabbing her and pulling her in for a frantic kiss before she can sink back down to her knees. he can taste the fruity remnants of lime and mint on her lips from the cocktail she had at the restaurant. 

the girl eagerly accepts his kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth, swallowing the small groan he releases. 

“wanna taste you again,” she pleads in between kisses. 

“yeah?” he bites at her lip.

“y-eah,” she gasps, surprised at how firmly he had nipped her. 

carmen pulls away with a final kiss, moving to sit on the couch. he spreads his knees apart and locks eyes with the girl, a silent beckon to come. 

she obeys, of course, and sinks down to the floor in between his legs, resting her hands atop his strong thighs. it’s only moments before she’s eagerly diving forward to take him into her mouth again. 

carmy just watches her, savoring the moment. savoring how her tongue swirls around him and how she keeps going lower and lower. how her face gets redder and how she stares up at him with blown pupils. it’s surreal—almost dreamlike. 

he gathers her hair in a haphazard ponytail, using his grip to push her a little further down. make her move a little faster. he can tell she likes it, too, by the way her moans vibrate around his cock. 

carmen pulls her back by her hair, forcing her to take a breather. his eyes rake over her flushed cheeks and pouty lips. she looks like a little doll, and the juxtaposition of her pretty face with the filthy position drives him fucking crazy. 

“stick your tongue out,” he tells her gruffly. 

and she does, showing him her tongue and gazing up at him through her lashes. 

carmy takes a firm hold of her face with his free hand and spits into her mouth. then eases his cock back inside. 

it’s enough to make her want to cum on the spot. 

the girl takes him in deeper than she had yet, almost hitting the back of her throat. and despite her gag, she continues to enthusiastically bob her head, desperate for more. 

it’s so enjoyable, in fact, that she trails her hand down between her legs, beginning to circle her swollen clit just to alleviate some of the heat she felt. and it feels so fucking good just to have that added touch that her body goes a little limp, jaw goes slack. 

she gives carmen complete control of her movements, tethered to him by the tight fist wrapped around her hair—consciously focusing on relaxing her throat as tears brim her eyes. 

“jesus christ, that’s good, baby.” he shifts forward, filling her mouth with more of his length. watches in mild enjoyment as she gags around him. 

“just relax,” he soothes, moving his free hand to caress her face, dragging her back by her hair. 

the girl takes a sharp breath in as soon as she can, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks. her fingers are drenched with slick arousal, staring carmy in the eyes, lips parted as continues to eagerly rub circles over her clit. 

“fuck me,” he strains, watching her play with herself, unaware of her desperation until that moment. the sight looks like it’s straight out of a porno. “you having fun down there?”

she nods her head eagerly, wiping some saliva from her chin with the back of her hand, leaning forward to try and take him back into her mouth. 

carmen gives her hair a little tug, keeping her in place. 

she glances up to give him a questioning look.

“come give me a taste.” his eyes glance down to her lips. 

a small smile forms on her face as she processes his request. she gingerly leans forward, careful to not earn another tug, and licks a long stripe up his cock. 

carmy loosens the grip on her hair as she goes to stand up, enthusiastically accepting her tongue into his mouth to taste himself. 

there’s something about the ferocity of the kiss that makes him feel like he’s on the verge of finishing all over his stomach. he takes deep breaths trying to push the feeling away. and that’s before he feels the wet heat of her pussy rubbing against the tip his length. 

the girl finds herself so desperate for release she begins to rock against his erection, letting it glide through her wet folds, gauging his reaction to see if he’ll stop her. 

and he doesn’t, instead groaning into her mouth and grabbing her ass. 

so the girl positions her wet hole over his cock, and slowly begins to sink down, letting out a gasp at the stretch. 

“fuck,” the two chant in tandem, hers as a whimper and his as more of a gruff exhale. 

carmen marvels about how perfect the stretch of her wet hot cunt feels around him as she eases herself down until she’s flush with his lap. 

they just stare at each other for a second in this feral, pupils-blown kind of frenzy, mouths both agape at the sensation of his cock nudged so deeply within her. how she’s not even moving and it’s just so hot and wet and deep and fucking good. 

carmen’s hand sides up her back, thumb pressing into the dip of her spine. his face is hot and his cock is throbbing and his mouth moves faster than his mind can.

“m’keeping you here with me,” he almost growls, pressing his fingers into her skin, eyes locked on hers. doesn’t miss the way she flinches a little at the words. 

the girl grips the sides of his face, and leans forward, pressing her forehead against his, closing her eyes and shakily exhaling as she rocks her hips back and forth against him. 

carmy says her name. it comes out strained. his hands grab her ass and he pulls and pushes her, intensifying the gentle rocking motion. 

the girl presses her lips to his, hoping to quiet him with a kiss. hoping to forget about it and just enjoy the moment. but she feels him call her name again, this time against her lips. the girl begins to softly bounce herself on his lap, jostling his length inside of her. 

“hey,” he exhales in between her eager kisses. “i didn’t mean-” another kiss, “-you just feel so good and i-”

“carmy,” she whispers softly against his lips, “be quiet baby. just-mmh… let’s just enjoy it.” 

carmen groans into her mouth as she rocks her hips against his again, hand coming to the small of her back. and it’s definitely enjoyable. it’s just hard to not think about it ending. to not plead with her for just a little more. 

the girl takes his scrunched face and nod as a gesture to keep going, so she shuffles her knees in a bit and begins slowly riding him. one hand touches his firm chest, the other trailing her kisses from his jaw to his neck. 

“jesus christ,” is what slips from his mouth, as he feels her gentle bites, allowing himself to relinquish that control he holds so dearly, for just a moment.

when she pulls back from his neck, her face and chest are flushed, nipples perked, and she’s pushing her breasts out trying to get him to look.

but his eyes just remain fixed on hers, like he’s trying to memorize her blown pupils and color of her irises. 

“is it okay?” she asks breathily as she keeps rocking her hips, feeling unexpectedly nervous under his intense gaze. 

“you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he mutters immedietly, as if he doesn’t entirely process her question. 

and even though they were this far along, the girl finds herself feeling shy at his sincerity. she goes to deflect as she usually does to compliments that fluster her. 

“n-no, i-”

“-you are. my pretty fuckin’ girl. never gonna let you outta my sight,” he almost growls. 

and by this point her body is hot and her pussy is throbbing and she’s finding the words that come out of his mouth so incredibly tempting. the implications less serious under the blanket of lust. so her lips part in a moan and she presses her hand to his chest and begins to ride faster, easing off then re-impaling herself on his cock. his hands come up to cup her breasts, ghosting thumbs over her nipples. 

“yes, carm.”

“yeah?” 

“mhm. love how you touch me.” 

she shuffles her feet under her knees, angling herself to be able to bounce a bit more comfortably. 

“you feel so-fuck… so good, you know that?” carmen grits, face scrunching at the new sensation.  

her stomach flutters at his praise, eyes raking down his form beneath her. his flushed skin. the way the muscle of his shoulder bulges out a little as he’s grabbing her like his life depends on it. 

“feels so big,” she whisper-cries.

“yeah? is it too much?” 

“n-no. so good. m’so full.”

his eyes glance down to where their bodies are connected. watches her ride him for a moment. groans at the way she becomes nearly all the way flush with his hips. 

“so good at that,” he grits, mesmerized by the way her sticky arousal clings to his pubic hair. “take me so good. you like feelin’ full, huh?” 

her mouth just falls open in response, eyes screwing shut as she feels him reach forward to circle her clit. the added pleasure only spurs her on, beginning to eagerly ride him, breasts bouncing in front of his face. 

“holy shit,” she cries, surprised how easily she feels her orgasm building, nails leaving crescents on the skin of his shoulder. 

“you close already, baby?” he whispers with a small, knowing grin on his face. “m’barely touching you.”

she just moans in response, unable to open her eyes, bucking her hips more wildly by the second, movements becoming sloppier, needier. 

“just keep-ah…just stay right there,” she pleads, savoring his slick, feather-light touches to her clit, feeling tears well up in her eyes. 

“right there?” carmen eases his fingers back slightly at the sight of her tears, and it’s just enough pressure to keep her on edge. 

“y-yeah, i’m…just please-” she cries pathetically, breaths becoming frantic, a static feeling tingling through her body. “please, carmy, m’gonna cum. just a little more.” 

and he can’t help but just marvel at her. the twisted expression of pleasure on her face. the stray tear that slips down her cheek. it’s probably the most erotic thing he’s ever seen. 

as a thank you for the next year of jerk-off material, he lets her have just a little more. watches with enjoyment as she finally comes unraveled with this loud, primal cry. feels the sting of her nails against his chest and bicep. 

the man holds her hip with his free hand, thrusting up into her as her movement falters and she slumps forward. 

“carm, i-” she gasps, body becoming overstimulated, thighs trembling.

“i got you, baby. i got you.” 

“it’s-ah!”

“one more second, pretty girl, m’almost done. can you hold on for me?” 

“y-yeah,” she cries, desperately grabbing onto him for dear life. there’s this overwhelming heat surging through her body. her lips feel numb and tingly. but she holds on and takes it like a big girl. 

“you’re fuckin’ gripping me.” he strains, eyebrows twisted up in pleasure.

the girl isn’t able to respond through her jagged breathing, instead leaning forward to hungrily kiss him again.

“y’gonna have to move in a sec,” carmen warns, gripping her hips with bruising force. 

“no,” she begins to move her hips against him, meeting his thrusts halfway.

carmy groans, eyes nearly rolling back into his head. “what do you mean no?” he strains. 

“want it in me.” 

“jesus, fu-” he exasperatedly exhales, “can’t baby. you know i can’t.” 

they lock eyes, pupils blown. 

“please. wanna feel it.” her plead comes in between desperate breaths. 

“what, you want a baby or something?” the man asks her, partially in disbelief and partially in a fiery haze of lust. 

“yes-!” she gasps. and even though a baby is probably the last thing she wants, there’s this inexplicable urge that overtakes. that revels in the idea of being linked with him forever. 

“yeah?” he’s shocked by her answer, but not dissuaded, “you want me to put a baby in you?” 

“yeah, carm. want your baby. wanna stay here with you.” the girl finds herself coming up on a second orgasm, relishing the way his cock perfectly nudges against her g-spot. 

“fuckk,” he groans, face growing hot at her words, “you want that? really?” studying her expression for any trace of hesitation. finding none. “cause i’ll give it to you.” and he’s dead serious. he’ll buy a ring for her tomorrow if she wants it, he thinks to himself. 

“yes, i want it,” she cries, “cum in me, please.”

and between the desperation of her plead and her breasts bouncing right in his face, it takes him about 5 more seconds before he erupts. 

his cock twitches, body stiffens and he lets out a guttural moan, grabbing onto her hips with a bruising force. 

and the feeling of his hot cum inside of her is enough for the girl to fall over the edge for a second time, tear-soaked eyes rolling back into her head, a whitehot bliss surging through her body. 

the two lovers are overcome with the sensation, sexes pulsing rhythmically in sync, graciously sharing orgasms with each other. 

carmen’s eyes are scrunched shut, brows furrowed and lips parted. 

the girl’s head falls to his shoulder, shakily breathing through the feeling. trying to come back down to earth. 

they just stay there for a moment, panting. recovering. 

she finds that she can hear his heartbeat. zones into the rhythm. listens as it gradually slows.

carmy wraps his arms around her and nuzzles his face into her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. 

when she finally pulls back after a few minutes, she plants a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“you good?” he asks against her mouth. 

“so good.” and so full and so warm. she never wants to move. 

but like all good things, they must come to an end. so the girl begins to slowly ease herself off his cock. and suddenly realizes what just happened. 

“oh shit.” 

“what?” carmen opens his eyes. watches as his cum slowly drips out of her. tries to take a mental picture. 

but the girl quickly reaches over to grab a tissue off the coffee table, frantically wiping away the surplus of the stickiness leaking from her core. 

“why didn’t you pull out?” her tone grows a bit frantic. 

“wha-cause you fuckin’ begged me not to.” he shakes his head, trying to comprehend her question. 

“i-…” she stutters, exhaling, “fuck, carmy, i’m not on birth control!” 

he has this perplexed expression on his face, blinking slowly and trying to rationalize her response. “you…did you not want me to? m sorry, i-”

“-no, i know i told you to. i just-…i got caught up in the moment i guess.” between the release of her orgasm and the weight of her previous request, the girl finds herself fighting the urge to cry. 

carmen must seem to notice this, because his hardened expression softens a bit. he quickly tries to think of something comforting to say. 

“want me to take you to get a plan b?” 

nice, carmy, he thinks to himself. he’s never been good at responding fast under pressure.

“yeah.” her response comes as a whisper. comes with a single tear. she turns her head away from him and embarrassedly tries to wipe it away. 

“hey,” he says tenderly, going to hold the side of her face, turning her back to face him. just studies her face for a moment with furrowed brows, trying to think of what to say. “you…you know i’d support you, right? if you…whatever you decide.”

“really?” it’s hard for her to believe him. 

“yes, really.”

“you’d want a baby?”

“if that’s what you want.” he has the most genuine expression on his face, eyes locked with hers. he watches another tear roll down her cheek and adds, “seriously. i’m all in.”

she’s shocked by his sincerity. it doesn’t make anything easier, either. just makes everything feel more confusing. 

“i’m…carmy, i can’t.” her words come out as a kind of sob. 

“that’s okay.” he reassures wholeheartedly. he doesn’t know why he feels just a little disappointed. 

“but i want to.” the girl plants her hands on his bare chest. “it’s just…you’re older than me. you’re ready for that kind of thing. i’m…such a mess, i can’t even imagine being a mom yet.” it comes out choked, the tears just keep falling. 

“i get it.” he nods. “really. you don’t have to explain yourself.” he rubs circles with his thumb along her hip. “i just wanted you to know. it’s your choice.”

“you’d wanna have a baby with me?” she wipes at her cheek. 

“yeah.” he nods, brows furrowed. “of course i would.” 

and just for a moment, the girl lets herself fantasize. lets her brain entertain the thought of having a family with him. of just leaving everything in california and starting new. of being so selfish and doing what she wants, just this one time. 

the thought is so tempting she finds it hard to distance herself from. to rationalize. 

she wouldn’t be a good mom. a good wife. not right now. she still has so much to learn about herself. so much to still figure out. 

after a moment, she finally speaks. 

“can you take me to cvs?” 

carmen nods, and reaches up to wipe the last of her tears away. 

he ignores the gnawing feeling of loss. has to remind himself it’s the loss of a fantasy. 

the loss of something that never existed. 

-

“fuck me.” she drops her bag to the ground, frantically opening pockets and unzipping zippers. “carm, i think i left my passport on the-“ 

“-no you didn’t.” he fishes in his back pocket for the booklet and hands it over. “here.”

the girl lets out a sigh of relief, staring up at the man with this perplexed, amazed expression. 

“thank you.” it comes out in a sort of whisper, and when she goes to take it from him, their fingers brush against each other. 

“you, uh…you only got an hour left.” he runs his hand through his messy hair. “y’should probably go find your gate.” 

“yeah.” she stands. her bag remains on the ground. “okay.” 

the two just stare at each other for a minute, locked in this trance-like state. 

“you know, i-”

“-do you think we-” 

their words overlap. 

“i’m sorry, you go-”

“-no, go ahead.” carmen nods, a small smile on his face. 

she takes a deep breath, piecing together what she even wants to say. 

“just…thank you. for everything. and i’m gonna miss you.” her words don’t do it justice. there’s so much more she wants to say. 

he nods, swallowing harshly. his fingers fumble for the piece of paper folded up in his pocket. 

“i, uh…listen. i know you’re gonna be busy, and…want to focus on other things, which i get. but, uh…i was thinking, if you wanted…no pressure…uh,”

“what is that?” she interrupts, curiosity getting to the better of her, pointing to the folded up paper he holds. 

“it’s uh…it’s a plane ticket. well, a voucher.” he hurriedly explains, “from LAX to ORD. i was thinking if you ever had a weekend free or something…” he trails off, trying to gauge her reaction. hoping he’s not overstepping. 

she takes deep breaths—having promised herself earlier that she wouldn’t cry. but the moment she goes to open her mouth to speak, a sob comes out. she claps her hand over her mouth. closes her eyes as she feels carmen’s arms instantly wrap around her. 

“hey,” he soothes, kissing the side of her head. “c’mon, don’t cry. you’re gonna make me cry.” his voice wobbles a bit.

the girl burrows her face into his chest, staining his shirt with tears. 

“i don’t wanna go-!” she cries, clinging onto him as if her life depends on it. 

“i know.” he nuzzles his nose into her hair. “i know, pretty girl. it’s gonna be okay.” his throat burns. face feels hot. and as much as he hates it, tears brim at his eyes. he told himself he wasn’t going to cry. 

and so they just stand there, holding each other. ignoring the shuffle of the crowd around them as people queue into the security line. 

ignoring the grainy announcements over the pa system. 

ignoring the fact that it would’ve been so much less painful had they never gone so far. 

for a moment, it feels like the world around them stops. the passage of time, the priority of leaving, all of it. 

just for a moment. like they’re back in the living room and ella fitzgerald is playing. 

“don’t forget about me,” she pleads into the fabric of his jacket. 

“i don’t think i could if i tried.”

at this, she places a soft kiss onto his neck. “i’ll miss you.”

“me too,” carmen chokes out, grabbing at her waist, her hips, trying to memorize the feeling of her body against his. 

and as the girl slowly tries to pull away, he holds her a little tighter, trying to turn his head so she doesn’t see him cry. 

“carmy,” she whispers soothingly, reaching up to wipe a tear from his face. 

“just, uh…call me when you land, yeah?” he brushes the gesture off, feeling all too vulnerable under her sympathetic gaze. 

“okay.” she rubs his cheek. 

“alright. i guess you should go get in line, then.” he goes to step back. 

“wait.”

the girl pulls his face in and presses one last kiss to his lips. it feels like they lock together. like the perfect fit.

and carmen just melts into the feeling, letting out the smallest of groans into her mouth. it’s her taste, her smell, everything. for a split second he debates giving up on his dreams. selling the restaurant and following her to california. raising babies and laying in the sand and swimming in the ocean no matter how cold it is. 

she slowly steps back, leaving him wanting just a little more. 

“i love you.” she softly reminds him, holding his hand. 

he nods, pressing his lips together and looking away from her. feeling so stupid for the tears that burn his eyes. 

“i love you too.” 

the girl takes another step back, letting her hand fall from his. picking up her bag and giving him one last good look. imprinting into her mind his messy curls and handsome face. 

and it feels like there’s nothing left to say, really. 

so she turns and walks away from him. towards the security checkpoint doors. taking deep breaths and wiping at her cheeks. she’s about to push through the doors.

don’t look back. do not look back. 

she turns to look back at him. and he’s still there, standing in the same place she’d left him. his hands are in his pockets. jaw is clenched. just watching her with this look on his face that makes her want to dive into his arms and tell him she’ll stay. 

the girl raises her hand. gives him a small wave. he returns the gesture with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. 

and with that, she pushes through the doors. 

in a way, it feels like she’s leaving home. not returning home. 

for the entire flight, she stares out the window in complete silence. thinking about the last few months. biting back more tears with every new thought. 

she gets back to san diego around 6 in the evening. takes a taxi to the beach that’s a mile from her house. 

sends carmy a picture of the waves rolling in, the sky stained a pinkish orange. 

within a few minutes, she receives a heart on the photo. 

he doesn’t send anything else. 

it does feel good to be home. the girl has to continually remind herself of this over the next few weeks. it feels familiar. feels safe. 

but along with the joy of being back home, there’s this underlying feeling of grief. a gnawing in her chest whenever she lays her head down at night. 

she feels haunted by carmen, in a way. 

her brain plays cruel tricks on her—mistaking any white man with curly brown hair at the supermarket for him just for a split second. 

stalking his instagram. his restaurant’s instagram. his restaurant’s employee’s instagrams. trying to keep up with him. 

she doesn’t call him. doesn’t text. 

and carmy doesn’t either. 

she opens their message thread ever so often just to make sure she didn’t miss his notification. types out messages and deletes them and stares at the heart he’d left on her picture. 

she convinces herself that if he wanted to call her, he would’ve. takes his silence as a message. 

on christmas day she has one cranberry cocktail too many and finally gives in. navigates to her contacts and presses on the phone icon next to his name. 

and the line rings. and rings. and rings. and right before she’s about to hang up and drown herself in more cranberry cocktails, the line picks up. 

“hey,” comes carmen’s voice through the phone. it’s so good to hear that the girl blanks out for a minute, not even sure of what to say. “hello?” he asks into the silence. 

“fuck you,” she blurts out, clapping a hand over her mouth as soon as the words leave. it was just the first thing that came to mind. 

after a stunned silence, she hears him give a surprised chuckle, followed by a “merry christmas to you too.” carmen grabs his jacket and opens the door of his mom’s house, stepping out into the cold, snowy night. 

“you never called me.” 

“i, um…i didn’t think you wanted me to,” the man responds truthfully, “you never responded.” 

what? he never sent anything to respond to. 

“respond to-…” she scoffs, “what, you ‘liking’ my message?” 

“yeah,” he feels a little embarrassed hearing it out loud, “yeah, i guess i can see what you mean. i, uh…sorry. i was actually just thinking about you.” 

his admission sends butterflies through her stomach. she rolls her eyes at the feeling. 

“yeah, well merry christmas. and i hope you get coal.” her face feels hot. “and i miss you.” the last part spills out without her permission. 

he gives her another soft laugh. 

“yeah, i deserve coal. and i…i miss you so fucking much,” he admits, watching his breath freeze in the air in front of him, “you still liking it out there?”

“it’s alright.” her response comes softly. she plays with a loose thread on her sweater. 

“yeah? your mom doing okay?” 

“i guess. as okay as she can. is yours?” 

carmen exhales, half humorous, half exasperation. “yeah. as okay as she can.” he had been called a bitch more times than he could count tonight, actually. but he keeps it light. 

the girl just hums in agreement at this, and a brief silence settles between them. he’s the one to eventually break it. 

“you, uh…you think about coming out anytime soon?” god, he wishes he had a cigarette. “still got your room empty.”

“yeah, i have.” it’s all she’s been thinking about. but she tries to stay nonchalant. “maybe after new years.” 

“great, yeah.” his heart pounds a little faster at her words. “no pressure, just…yeah. i’d love to see you.”

“okay. i’ll um…i’ll let you know,” she tells him softly, feeling an overwhelming urge to cry. 

“okay.”

“merry christmas, carmy.”

“merry christmas.” he shuffles from side to side. “stay in touch, yeah? it was really good to hear from you.”

“yeah, i will. you too. goodnight.”

“wait, i uh-” he wants to tell her he loves her. 

“hm?” she puts the phone back up to her ear. 

“just, um…take care of yourself, yeah?” he can’t seem to muster up the courage.

“i will.” 

“okay. good.”

“i…i’m gonna feel stupid for saying this, but i love you, carm.” 

he gets this feeling of relief and pain all in one. “i love you too.” so much. “thanks for callin’.”

“goodnight.”

“yeah, night.” 

the line disconnects. and it feels better than before. 

hurts still, yes. 

but better. 

the girl finds herself staring at the ceiling that night, just thinking. about her family, her career. about carmen. finds solace in the way that gnawing feeling is replaced by a fluttering. a hopefulness. 

and what is love, if not unconditional and everlasting? 

she drifts off to sleep with warm cheeks and the image of his goofy smile at the forefront of her mind. 

-

a/n: ow. 

really hope you enjoyed this series :) these two i hold so near & dear to my heart and i thoroughly enjoyed watching this story fold out along with you. thank you all so much for your patience with the process & for your kind words!!! xoxox

[gravestrain]

gave you too much but it wasn't enough (qh43)

In which you wonder if your relationship with Quinn might end in death by a thousand cuts.

This is my submission for the eras tour fic challenge hosted by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy! I am thrilled to be a part of this event. I received DBATC, and if you know me you know any kind of angst is not my wheelhouse, but I was thrilled to get this challenge and try to create something angsty. It will never be unresolved in my world but hopefully this does the trick :) 2.5k words, fem reader, no warnings that I know of, not proofread.

When Quinn was named the captain of the Vancouver Canucks, you had never felt so proud.

Being with Quinn for two plus years at the time, you were over the moon to see the love of your life, your favorite person in the world, being given such an honor, an honor he worked so hard for, an honor you know he deserved. Quinn was one of the most dedicated people you've ever met. With that dedication of course, comes time. Quinn dedicated countless hours to improving his game, practicing with his teammates, working out in the gym, going on runs, anything he could do to be the best he could be, he was doing it.

Under the moonlight, as you and Quinn celebrated his accomplishment, he promised you that he wouldn't stray away. That his commitment to the team wouldn't outweigh his commitment to you. To being a loving partner. A companion. However, when you woke up, stretching your arm out to feel an empty bed yet again, despite knowing that it couldn't have been much past 7 am, you wondered what went wrong. What happened to cause those promises to crumble. His words to be empty, lifeless. Void of meaning. When did you and Quinn become a couple that told each other lies? Told each other things just because the other person wanted to hear them, not because they genuinely intended to fulfill them.

It was the start of Quinn's second season as the Canucks captain. At first, you thought it was too good to be true. Quinn was thriving in his new role, yet still being the perfect partner. Attentive and on time, compassionate and loving. Now, that version of Quinn is a distant memory, mocking you as you think of him.

It started after the holidays in Quinn's first season of being captain. You chalked it up to post holiday stress and all star weekend buzz, maybe even trade deadline drama. Then the all star game passed, and even the trade deadline. Shortly after you started blaming it on the playoff push, then the playoff loss. And now here you were in November, searching for answers, trying to figure out what happened to the love of your life who turned into a stranger right in front of your own eyes, with nothing you could do about it but watch it happen.

You got yourself ready for work, looking around in the bathroom, on the bedside table, and eventually the kitchen to see if maybe Quinn left you a note, a cup of coffee in your favorite travel mug, a bagel from your favorite bakery around the corner, a sign of his love, signs that he used to never leave the house without showing. Just as you thought, there was nothing. You couldn't even remember the last time you felt Quinn kiss your forehead before he left for God knows what. Another workout, another two mile run after the three miles he did on the treadmill, or locking himself in his office watching film.

Work came and went that day, taking the long way home, dreading going home to an empty house. You thought it would be worse trying to interact with the stranger you lived with, but the silence, the emptiness, the sterile, unwelcoming cold was always worse. You stared up at the traffic lights, wondering if others saw just how foolish you felt. Writing lines to a story that was long over. Grasping on to the book, hoping for a surprise ending, one that would make everything worth it.

To say you were surprised to see Quinn's Porsche in the driveway was an understatement. Usually on practice days he didn't get home until well after 6 pm. You unlocked the front door, not expecting much. Just because he was home, doesn't mean he wasn't locked up in his office, taking notes from last night's game. A game that you never bothered to go to anymore. You knew the other WAGs missed you, people speculated about your absence on the internet, always cruel and judgmental. You couldn't bring yourself to go. You had learned to despise hockey for taking Quinn from you.

You opened the door and were surprised to see Quinn in the kitchen, grabbing a snack. Quinn looked as surprised to see you as you were, almost like he didn't know where you were, or if he even remembered that you lived there. Quiet "hi's" were exchanged, Quinn leaving a soft kiss on your cheek then awkwardly brushing past you to go towards the fridge.

"I thought we could have chicken and pasta for dinner tonight. It sounded good on my way home, I hope that's okay," Quinn muttered out, but already getting a pot of water for pasta ready, as though it didn't matter what you truly wanted. "That's okay," you offered back. "I'm gonna go sit down and read my book. If you need me, just holler." You offered and Quinn gave a nod in response. You wanted to grunt and groan under your breath. How could this be okay with him? It was as though you didn't know him, despite him knowing everything about you.

You tried to distract yourself with your book, but frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped them away aggressively, not wanting Quinn to see you cry. He couldn't muster up simple greetings, and an I love you would be almost toxic coming out of his mouth. He didn't care anymore, that much was obvious. So why should you?

You didn't know how long time passed, but it was enough time for Quinn to come over with a plate of dinner, unaware of your state. Your heart swelled. Most days, you had been eating dinner at the table, the memories of the two of you loved up on the couch, enjoying your meal and watching your latest binge watch were long gone. It seemed that Quinn was looking for one of those nights, until he saw your tears. His face dropped, setting your plate down and kneeling in front of you.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" He asked, trying to get you to meet his eyes. You shook your head. How could he be so oblivious? "Are you serious?" You ask and Quinn's expression changed, like you had hurt him. "What do you mean by that? Why would I not be serious?" he asked, causing you to shake your head. "Quinn, things haven't been right between us for months. You leave me everyday without saying goodbye or even kissing me goodbye, you act like spending time with me is the worst thing in the world. I never go to games anymore because I resent hockey for taking you from me. When you were named captain, I was so proud of you I could explode. Now I can't even bare to be in the hockey setting because it reminds me of everything you chose over me. Quinn, I don't even know if you love me anymore." You took a breath after getting it off your chest, but at the same time a wounded gasp came out of Quinn's mouth, like he was a wounded animal.

"You think I don't love you anymore? How could you think that?" he asked, clearly hurt by what you had said. "What else do you want me to believe, Quinn? I can't even remember the last time you told me you loved me. And beyond that, that you ever even showed that you might. I feel like I live with a stranger. You can't honestly tell me that you have felt satisfied in this relationship. That you feel that we love each other to the fullest, that we love spending time together. I haven't felt confident that you feel that way in a long time." At this point you both had tears in your eyes, Quinn feeling devastated by what he was hearing.

Of course Quinn wasn't 100% satisfied with your relationship. He wasn't delusional enough to believe that everything was perfect. He knew that hockey had been his number one priority lately, and he had been trying to make that not be the case.

"Baby, I know I haven't been putting you first lately, and I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But I feel like it's only been this way since the start of the regular season." This had you scoffing immediately. "You don't seriously believe that. Quinn, I could say I have felt this way on and off since January." This caused another hurt gasp to leave Quinn's lips. "Why didn't you say something..." he trailed off, hurt, but he knew the answer.

"I shouldn't have to beg you to love me, Quinn. I shouldn't have to tell you that you have been neglecting me, neglecting us. If you truly can't see what's been going on, I don't know how I can explain it to you. If you think that this relationship has been satisfactory for both parties, I can't change your mind of that. But I won't be treated like this any longer. I think we should spend some time apart." Quinn backed up as soon as the suggestion came out of your mouth, looking like he had been shot.

"You don't mean that, you can't" he gasped. "Quinn, I'm not saying I want to breakup. If I didn't believe this was salvageable, if I didn't believe you could fix this, I would just say I wanted to break up. I believe we can fix this, but I think some time apart would do us good. For us both to figure out what we're looking for and what we truly want. If we find that this is still what we want, that's great, I believe that we will make it work. But this, this... arrangement, this isn't working. I know you seem shocked and hurt, but I know you don't believe that this is working for both of us, or honestly either of us."

"I'll go stay with Petey, I don't want to be in your way," Quinn suggested and you shook your head. "It's okay, really. I can go stay with Brock's girlfriend. Since she lives by herself it won't be awkward for any of us. I do believe we can make this work Quinn, I just don't think we can do it in these conditions." You put your hand on his cheek and his face softened, leaning into your touch.

"Tell me how to fix it, please, I'll do anything," he begged, tears steadily streaming down his face. "I can't tell you that, Quinn. I want you to figure out. To understand where I'm coming from, and want to work to fix it. I haven't been perfect either Quinn, we can both work on this. I shouldn't have to tell you that spending time together once a month isn't enough. I don't know how it can be enough for you, either. If that's okay with you, then this just isn't going to work."

"I'll fix it baby, I promise, I'll do anything." he whispered, almost defeatedly but feeling much better. "I believe you, baby. I do."

-------------------

The flowers started on Mondays. Each Monday, a different bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers arrived at your office. The message was also different each week but it always ended the same way: " I love you, I believe in us." You texted Quinn every week when the flowers came to let him know you got them and to send your thanks. After four weeks of flowers, you were sitting in the front room of Brock's girlfriend, Bella's, apartment, getting stuff done on your computer on a chilly Saturday afternoon. A knock on the door sounded, causing you to pause your work. You had been staying with Bella long enough that you felt comfortable getting the door. Not to mention Bella liked to sleep in super late on weekends, meaning you would be the only one to even be available to open the door.

Your heart sank to your toes as you looked through the peephole, seeing Quinn. He looked different. If your gut was right, he looked tired, a far away look in his eyes, almost as though he missed you as much as you missed him. You didn't want to believe it, wary of getting your heart broken. He was holding something in his hands, fidgeting with it as he waited for the door to open.

"Y/N, hi," Quinn whispered out, taking a step towards you. "Hi Quinn, it's great to see you. How have you been? Would you like to come inside?" You asked, causing him to shake his head. "I can't stay, but thank you for offering," he stopped himself, wanting to keep boundaries in between you two in order for you to be most comfortable.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other, and I wanted to come ask you something. I was hoping you'd like to come to the game tomorrow night? I was hoping this would be enough time, but if not it's okay." His voice was shaky, unsure, almost like he was scared of your response. "I'm not sure, Quinn. Won't it be weird that I'm there? I don't want to cause any drama." You said apprehensively. You were also nervous of what that step in your relationship would be.

"There would be no drama at all, babe. You could just sit with Bell in the stands if you would prefer that, but I know the WAGs have really been missing you. I heard Millsy's daughters have been waiting for you to paint their nails on intermission again," he joked, causing you to smile. His heart melted at the smile on your face, finally feeling fulfilled, that he made you happy.

"I'll be there, Quinn. You can put me in the box. Don't worry about parking, though. I'm sure I can catch a ride with Bella." You both smiled, joyful at the step in the right direction for the both of you. "I can't wait."

________________

For all the time you had spent at Canucks games, you never thought you would be so nervous about what to wear, but here you are. Finally, settling on a stylish Canucks long sleeve with no distinction of Quinn on the shirt, paired with dark jeans and sneakers.

Quinn played a great game, getting a goal and an assist, the Canucks winning 3-1. You were ecstatic. Being back at the games, with your friends, cheering on Quinn, just felt right. It felt like where you were supposed to be. When you met Quinn after the game, he couldn't help himself either, jogging up to you and wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up off the ground. "Quinn!" you exclaimed, laughing out loud. "You did so good!" You laughed as he set you back on the ground. "It's because you were here, my good luck charm." He mused, causing you to blush.

Before he could stop himself, Quinn asked: "come home with me?" Your breath shortened, definitely not expecting that to come out of his mouth. "Are you sure?" You asked him, heart racing at the idea of going home with Quinn, truly where you belonged. "I would want nothing more."

It felt at times that no matter how much you gave to Quinn, it would never be enough. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves, you both knew that all you could give would always be enough for the both of you.

[buddiebeginz]

Reminder that this is how bummys talk about Oliver and worse. Let's not forget some of them also made a 4hr podcast months ago saying awful stuff about him, all because he was posting about hanging out with Ryan and not Lou. They've also been repeatedly calling him biphobic/homophobic because he said Buck should get to explore his sexuality more and have sex.

Some of these people used to be Buddie shippers but the truth is they never really cared about Oliver or Buck. They have the nerve to call us fetishists when a lot of us have been shipping two best friends for years who we just want to see take their relationship to the next level. The main draw for them with b/t is wanting to see two guys they think are hot together because it certainly wasn't about Buck and his happiness. They weren't ever looking at his scenes with Tommy thinking is this really the best relationship for Buck? They've always been more concerned with Tommy and wanting him to be a permanent fixture on the show. Almost immediately after 704 some of them were calling him Buck's endgame. Even though we were shown time and time again how much Tommy was never the right person for Buck.

Now that their ship is over they've inevitably turned on Oliver and are blaming him for it even though at the end of the day the person who made that decision was Tim.

Also and this is something I really really wish bummy stans would get through their heads, actors are allowed to have personal opinions about the media they act in. Oliver has said he's a fan of 911 so I'm sure he watches the show. It's clear from many things he's said that he genuinely cares about Buck every bit as much as we do. So acting like he's not allowed to have preferences for the show and for Buck just makes no sense. He's connected to Buck in a way none of us are so if anyone should get to have thoughts on Buck's story it should be him. He's allowed to like or dislike a ship or a storyline. I know it sucks if an actor that's part of a ship you like doesn't support that ship but it does happen.

Oliver has supported Buddie for years and been very transparent that he wants to see it happen. He was never going to become the captain of the b/t ship. He's never really been super supportive of any of Buck's other ships nor does he have to be. Oliver has always been respectful towards his co-stars and fans and always given respectful answers about Buck's past ships in interviews and that's all he's really required to do.

It's honestly baffling how bummy stans continue to play the victim and continue to try and come up with all these reasons for why they think Oliver is a bad person for not supporting their ship and Lou. The reality is b/t was never meant to last. Oliver knew this and didn't want to lead anyone on. It's also very likely that Lou didn't get along with the cast especially given how they went out of their way to say goodbye to Callum and there was nothing for Lou. Not to mention Oliver very deliberately leaving Lou out of his photography spoke volumes.

I also think Oliver saw at least some of the drama online this year both from b/t stans and from Lou and it made him less likely to engage with that part of fandom. Bummy fans spent a not insignificant amount of time this year saying terrible sometimes racist things about Ryan and Eddie (like telling Ryan he should have finished the job when he talked about his s*icide attempt). Ryan is clearly someone that Oliver cares a lot about so if he saw any of this I'm sure it didn't endear him to those fans. On top of that they continually pushed for a guest character, who was never meant to be anything more than a plot device in Buck's story to be a main character and have his own Begins episode.

I'm just really sad and angry that this is the kind of stuff Oliver is having to deal with. Buck's bisexual journey should be this amazing positive thing and bummy stans have repeatedly tried to warp it to be their way or no way. I just really hope that Oliver knows there are so so many of us who love him and appreciate all the work he's done.

[itsa-me-lily]

This was yet again, not what I was intending to write. I was going to try to do the fic for the spa day hint but I got too caught up in my head on logistics. Remember kids, don't let logic or canon stop you from writing the fiction you want to.

This is a pallet cleanser for me after posting 'It's a Quarter after One'.

Here is the rest of the Military Program Spouse list.

Warnings;

Nothing really. Just tension.

Movie nights, were supposed to be peaceful. A way to unwind from the day and maybe, possibly, in the realm of, spend some time with a person who's existence didn't drive you crazy. So how this turned into you using Simon like a living barbie doll you weren't sure, but you couldn't complain.

That was a lie, you knew exactly how it turned into you belting Simon's pillows around his waist. You had a fucking point to prove.

Simon had been willing to watch a new documentary from the Smithsonian with you, a piece about historical fashion and the myths that spiral out of it. You hadn't thought that Simon would want to watch it, but he had shrugged when you'd ask and well, gifted horses and mouths and all that.

You had made veggie snacks for the boys, and popcorn for you and Simon, queued up the film and the night was off. For the most part it was alright, some stuff you already knew, others you didn't. Simon was pretty silent the entire time, until they got to the corsetry and the discussion of tight lacing.

Simon wouldn't believe the idea that it was mostly an illusion trick. Said that men were obviously smarter than that. You called bullshit. He called your bullshit bullshit. So belting his pillows to his ass.

And no, you weren't going to think about how thick his waist was, or how solid he felt as you tightened the cord around said waist. And you especially weren't going to look up at him because you were positive he was doing that thing where he was staring down at you with his dark eyes that made you feel like you were being sucked in via your soul and did not make your heart skip. Not thinking about it at all.

Giving the improvised belt a tug, and not thinking about his...everything, you nodded, pleased with how the pillows bulked around his waist. Now just for the final piece. You grabbed a throw blanket from the couch, wrapping it around the front of your husband.

(How dare that man be a fucking brick wall of muscles. Seriously what the fuck.)

Once you were ready you grabbed your phone, snapping a photo and disregarding the unimpressed look on Simon's face, already talking over his silence to prove your point.

"Look your shoulders are already broad enough," (Not thinking about it) "So we just had to balance out the width of your hips. Now instead of looking like a Dorito, it's like an hourglass, and your brain gets tricked into thinking your waist tinier."

You're zooming in to show him what you meant when there's a knock on your door, making the both of you freeze to stare at each other. You weren't expecting anyone, and given how tight his shoulders drew in, neither was Simon.

It was tense as you waited to see what would happen. And it only got tenser as there was another knock, whoever was at the door insistent.

"Oi LT, ye in for the pub? Never answered me earlier."

Oh. It was Johnny. At the door. To see if Simon wanted to go out. Because Simon hadn't clarified with him earlier? You almost felt like your strings got cut as you relaxed, looking at the door as you answered for Simon before the Scot could start knocking again, or break down your door.

"Just a second Johnny."

You looked back at Simon and felt your breath catch. He was so...intense sometimes. For a moment all there was, was you and him, the TV lighting half his face and showcasing the curve of his brow that lead to the bridge of his nose, the rest of his face hidden by his surgical mask.

"We should get the door."

"He can wait."

Simon's voice couldn't possibly be that deep most of the time. You'd have noticed it before right?

You had to swallow, your mouth turning dry as you tried to think of something to say.

Thankfully a certain impatient Scot saved the day by knocking yet again, though sounding uncertain this time.

"Are ye alright in there? Am I interrupting-"

"We're fine MacTavish."

You had to make a break for the door then, or else you were all going to be stuck in some loop of talking through a door or not talking while the oxygen apparently left the room. You made an effort to try to ignore whatever Simon was doing behind you as you made the few steps to the door to open it, unaware of the flush that was painting your cheeks.

"Sorry about that, come in."

Oh. Kyle was with him too. You waved over Johnny's shoulder giving the young man a happy greeting, but both of them were too busy staring over your shoulder into your living room. You hadn't really give Simon time to unpillow his ass...oops.

"I was trying to show Simon how proportions with creating visual illusions..."

"Ye look thinner Lt."

You shot Simon an 'I told you so' look, which you were pretty sure he did not appreciate. Instead of trying to get himself out of his pillows he just crossed his arms over his chest, leveling his sergeants with a look.

"Not going out tonight."

"I don't think you have a matching handbag there Ghost."

You couldn't help but grin at Kyle's joke, though you tried to bite your lower lip to hide it. You had done this to the poor man after all. Neither Kyle nor Johnny gave the same consideration as they snickered. Simon didn't seemed impressed with any of you though as he came over, thankfully not tripping over his improvised skirt. With a curt good night he just shut the door in the boys face, though it didn't shut out their laughter as they walked away.

You two didn't say anything as you listened to the laughs fade into the evening. Once it was clear that your guests had left you looked up at Simon, noticing how the tips of his ears looked just a little redder.

"You could have gone out with them if you wanted. I wouldn't have minded."

Simon didn't seem to hear you at first, instead turning to head back to the couch, the blanket making a soft swish noise against the floor. When you didn't follow him he simply turned to sit on the couch, making it clear that there was space next to him on the couch.

"You proved your point. Now get over here so we can finish this."

Edit;

Simon does not care about if tight lacing was a common practice or not. He simply argued to a) argue with you and b) because a part of him was a 'little' hopeful that you'd pull a corset out of somewhere to model or something. Play stupid games get stupid prizes.

Edit edit;

Soap bribes reader to send him the photo of pretty princess Ghost and he hoards it for just in case black mail.

[theoddest1]

Okay so, ima type in what I typed to my friend here.

"Yeah Ima be so dead ass. ||Mel and Ekko carried the final for me, ESPECIALLY Ekko."

Yeah, they should have just kept [Viktor] being Ryze. That made more sense to me than whatever this is. And I am all for mlm rep, but yeah, this felt WAY too, Jayvikky. I liked it better that they were brothers to parallel Vander and Silco, who also found each other and became bros, but it seemed like they went with how popular JayVik was and stuck with it. And Jayce being strung with Viktor for wherever they went felt...kinda nonsensical. I'd rather that Viktor was thwarted and too far gone to then just suddenly have a change of heart and go with Jayce. I imagined that he would have a contingency where he, incase his body was destroyed, would then later rise again to try and enact "Glorious Evolution". It would go well with the themes of his beliefs anyway because every time he dies, he comes back stronger in a new body. I feel like that would better set the ongoing conflict and fit well with the game and why he looks the way he does currently.

I also don't like how quick he and Mel's reunion was considering how much he favored her along with his odd and sudden dislike for her decisions-- Seriously, where did that even come from!?"

[Thought it over further. Him calling her out on her actions isn't the issue. It's the timing and how this transpires that confuses me. He just came from a post-apocalyptic world where Mel, Viktor, and everything else came to mind. The lack of time for them to truly talk made the scene felt out of nowhere and not at all fleshed out. He goes on to place part of the blame on her when literally it wasn't. She DID manipulate but only politically. Everything else was on he and Viktor. Then, when he DOES confront Viktor, the vibes are different. Viktor hurt and caused a chain of events that led to several lives being taken to ensure survival and his "Glorious Evolution", why is this essentially overlooked? Maybe when I review this again, it will make more sense, but as of now, the way Jayce treats both Mel and Viktor is VERY questionable.]

"I would have been pretty happy if He at least gave her a hug, a kiss, something to make their relationship seem consistent with what we were shown. I know that he's been gone for a while and a lot more cold, but this was a very odd direction to go with. I am super happy about Cait and Mel fighting side by side and that Mel may be the main character for a new Noxus related show! [Which I knew they'd set up!] but this series, after seeing it in its entirety, DID suffer too much from the pacing issues. I assumed at the First Act that it was quick paced to go with how they've all been shifted into places they didn't see coming, but the pacing issues continued to bring down the quality. 3 seasons would have made way more sense and would go well with the 3 ACT formula they had used. I hope they learn from this and refrain from making similar mistakes.

[I responded to my friend who posted these images above] I knew they'd make a callback to this line eventually, and I am genuinely surprised people are not catching this obvious set up to Jinx living. Also, I am betting that Heimer did "die" but only that alternate version of himself. [Though obviously I could be wrong, though a life of various lifetimes where he helps each version of the main cast sounds very Heimerdinger of him, especially since he didn't wanna leave.]

The biggest letdown for me has to be Jayce and Viktor's story. It just...doesn't make sense with what we have been shown. Also, if Viktor KNOWS bad shit would happen when bringing Hextech to life and all, why TF would he give it to Jayce then???? Or if he STILL wanted magic to be tampered with shy doesn't he comvince himself in a way HE KNOWS would prevent what happens next, surely NOT EVERY timeline has it where you continue on the path of destruction! You see what I mean!?!? Leave the time crap to Ekko, man. This new inclusion makes no sense! And he does this in VARIOUS timeliness for some reason. Man, I wish it was just a random ass mage or Ryze, this added stuff kinda kills the finale for me🫠

I feel that making Viktor time travel ruins a huge aspect of the story, ngl, especially when Jayce argues that people can "craft their own path." The story also shouldn't have ended with what I could only assume both of them "dying" or traversing time instead. Also, the way Sky was treated and essentially replaced with Jayce feels....very very weeeeird."

[I believe that the ending just didn't land that well. I feel, now thinking over every character, Ekko, Mel, and Jinx carried this season HEAVY. These 3 were the most interesting parts of the season, honorable mention being Singed cause he be doing what he MUST. Also, what was the point of introducing Loris if all he was gonna end up being was a random guy who reminded Vi of Vander? I guess nothing is wrong with this, but when you're already stringing for time, these inclusions make no sense... I liked him, though, RIP Loris🤧. Oh, and Caut barely facing consequences is KINDA CRAZY but it goes with the themes of forgiveness/ acceptance. The Cycle would never end, after all, but yeah Vi and Cait made up WAY too fast and just shows that this needed another season. Let me know your thoughts!]

[mychlapci]

*slides into the ask box like a pro baseball player aiming for home plate

I SAW YOUR POST ABOUT THE TFA BOTS GETTING PREGNANT VIA ALL SPARK EXPOSURE! BUDDY, BESTIE! SAME BRAINED!

Cause like, think about it, the all spark is supposed to be the source of all life in most Transformers' canons, yeah?

But the TFA All-Spark's been neglected, deprived of its duties all this time, forced away into the dark cold of space to 'protect it' and all that nasty not-goodness. But

BUT

BUT!

Now the TFA Team Orion found it! And it is - *eager* to start its work again!

I don't know which is better; it got them pregnant immediately but slowly so the sparklings develop at a normal rate (and the poor 'Cons are confused why the whole crew smells so faintly, deliciously sweet this whole time, the scent growing all the time and driving them mad every klik) until the Autobots're moaning and groaning and panicking on Earth, bellies heavy and huge and full of wiggling, squirming newsparks.

OR

They got pregnant immediately and *rapidly*, swelling up right then and there at the site where they found the All Spark, quickly immobilized by their painfully heavy bellies, protoform mesh stretched thin from the rapid expansion to show off the newsparks inside, until the warframes find the crew and snatch them up alongside the All Spark, a whole hoard of precious treasures found at once!

Just, just, Oooooh, all the possibilities!

*actively drooling at the thoughts

aaaah rapid preg is fun, but i was definitely thinking about it happening slowly, throughout the show. the stasis temporarily post-ponned gestation, so when they wake up everything is normal, nothing to be suspicious about. it's only later on that all of them start undergoing changes... Bumblebee and Prowl probably start showing first, with Optimus following suit, they've got those small waists, after all. they'd have noooo idea what's happening, and keep trying to hide it. not even Ratchet would consider the possibility of them being pregnant at first, because that hasn't happened in millions of years. they have to start considering it when the swelling of their tummies just doesn't go down.... now i'm kind of thinking about how the three of them would get monitored, but Bulkhead and Ratchet didn't take pregnancy tests because neither of them is showing, so those two wouldn't know until they start giving birth...

then again, if we're thinking about team prime swelling out the moment they come in contact with the allspark, we get a classic broodmare scenario and i can't resist...

[the-one-and-only-taffie]

Back with more White Diamond x Sentinel Prime crackship nonsense baby!!!

Ever since I first thought about these goobers, I haven't known a single day of peace (mostly cause the ideas are just racking around in my brain)

So here's a list of headcanons I came up with for Prime Diamond! If you have any questions regarding this ship, my ask box is open. Double if you have any thoughts or anything to add, go on ahead! I hope y'all enjoy!

I may make a part 2 when I come up with more lol

For this relationship to even be possible (as possible as a crackship between two characters from completely different franchises can be), it will have to take place Post-Steven Universe Finale/Future when White Diamond is in her therapy, self-help guru era. And when Sentinel Prime is... alive.

Also, I have been trying to do research regarding this but since the results are so inconsistent, I'm gonna assume White Diamond is around 80 to 90 ft tall and Sentinel is around 60 (based on how he's double Orion Pax's height and apparently TF One Orion is around 33 ft tall). If you know their actual canonical heights or anything close to that, please lemme know!

As mentioned in a reblog, White Diamond would take an interest in Sentinel Prime as a sort of little DIY project. Though he tries to hide it, White with her supernatural intuitiveness can tell there's more to him than meets the eye (he's an asshole). Having been inspired by Steven to see the worth and beauty in imperfections, she wants to give someone like Sentinel a chance like Steven did for her. Though she is making genuine strides to improve upon her previous controlling and obsessive behavior regarding perfection, this aspect of her will resurface in her attempts "fix" Sentinel while in a relationship with him. She adores and finds much interest in his "positive imperfections," but helping him improve on his more negative ones wouldn't hurt, right?

Other reasons she developed an attraction to him is for the same reason all the Sentinel fangirls did: he's just so... pathetic. When he tries to impress her with stories of battles he's never fought in and gives her a tour of his treasure room full of artifacts he didn't discover, she can tell he's trying way too hard to impress her. She finds this cute and charming rather than douchey and desperate.

Sentinel Prime pursued her because, as stated in a previous reblog, "his diva ass was always going to try and seek out a gem fit for a king." He laid his eyes on an 80-90 ft giant alien rock woman and thought,"I need her." As any sane person would. She was supposed to be nothing more than another symbol of wealth for him to show off to the other elites and officials of Iacon City to further cement the royal image he works so hard to maintain. He definitely underestimated how overwhelming White Diamond can be, and I am not just referring to her height.

Sentinel would rather have his spark be extinguished than admit to this, but his stabilizing servos get wobbly at the idea of his alien girlfriend being so much taller than he is. His pride would never admit to this, nor would it accept someone taller than him accompanying him. He believes that as a "Prime," he is supposed to be much taller, bigger, and more imposing than those around him.

Whenever they make a public appearance, Sentinel insists that White shrink herself to a height more tolerable for his fragile ego. He bullshits an excuse about their buildings not being designed for a being as tall as she is. White obliges, but given how Iacon was built when the previous actual Primes were all gigantic and alive, she quickly figures his lie and confronts him about it. He'd just lie again and say he didn't want the other Cybertronians to be intimidated... by her beauty. Clearly, it's not because of some Napolean complex or something. Still, White is in her patience era, so she takes the compliment for what it is.

The "guy who doesn't like speeches" vs. "professional yapper" isn't a joke. Sentinel can't stand how much White Diamond loves to yap. She's the kind of person to have thoughts and opinions about anything and everything. Given that she doesn't breathe, she doesn't even need to catch her breath in the middle of speaking, so she can go on and on and on, much to Sentinel's annoyance.

He tries to get her to quiet down at times, but as White tends to do, she either doesn't hear him or straight up ignores him. Her monologuing, along with her height and just how shiny she is, is very overwhelming for Sentinel at times. The only good thing he finds about this aspect of his sweetspark is when she dotes on him and showers him with compliments and attention. As if an attention hungry fame whore needed any more of it.

Sentinel even allows White to indulge in her psychoanalysis, playing up the whole "tragic hero whose brothers and sisters perished in battle and now has to face the pain and weight of protecting his people alone" angle that she eats up. White does sometimes hit dangerously close to home, so Sentinel shuts her down before she could dig straight to bedrock and uncover the more unfavorable parts of himself he wants to stay hidden.

Speaking of staying hidden, the way White carries herself in public makes Sentinel was to keep her locked away in a jewelry box. White is excellent when it comes to using her words to inflict psychic damage or to build someone up. When it comes to social situations where charisma, relatability, and poise are needed, this is when White is at her most alien. She is not the most socially adjusted given that prior to the finale, she spent thousands of years hidden away in a world of her own delusions. She doesn't have much of a filter, something she has been working on to avoid upsetting others.

She has the habit of pointing out any interesting thing that catches her eye, especially about people, whether or not it's positive or negative. This has led to her unsettling the bots at best or offending them at worst. Sentinel then has to come in and use his charisma to difuse the situation and paint her behavior in a more positive light. Only for White to turn around and ask everyone if they ever noticed how Sentinel's wings move in accordance to his mood and how adorable it is. Everyone laughs. Sentinel is thoroughly pissed.

Sentinel definitely has more relationship experience than White Diamond. All of her knowledge comes from what she's heard from the gems that come to her for advice or from that human show the little green Crystal Gem recommended (she can't remember her name). In her attempts to emulate the behavior she's heard of and observed, she ends up coming off as cringe or detached from reality. At certain points of the relationship, she even imposes certain "deadlines" on courtship behaviors she expects from Sentinel. All his previous relationships were private, casual flings. He only made this one public because bagging a bad bitch like White Diamond is an accomplishment he felt he had to show off.

This may come to bite him in the aft when her radiance catches the attention of other bots. On these occasions, he acts possessive and showers her with attention, gifts, and affection. He tells himself and Airachnid it's because he doesn't want her to outshine him in the eyes of the public. In reality, he gets jealous and doesn't want to lose her interest and, most importantly, her attention. As overwhelming and embarrassing as she can be, a twisted part of him really craves her attention.

In private, Sentinel can flip flop greatly in how he treats White. On some days he leans on her for support and wants her to pet his wings while he vents about all the dumb, annoying bots he has to fraternize with and all the boring meetings he has to attend. White occasionally interrupts him with advice or her own views on the situation, which frustrates Sentinel. On other days, he's completely detached, not even bothering to give her the time of day. He is at his most consistently sweet and romantic when they're both in the public eye, performing grand gestures of love. This intensifies when they're on camera.

They present themselves as THE Iacon couple, but Sentinel and White argue a lot about pretty much anything. More often than not, White is trying to advise him on how to improve himself and his city, and Sentinel kindly tells her to shut up and mind her own business.

They are both very prideful people who can't accept when they are wrong. White is more willing than Sentinel to admit to it and compromise. If she believes she is 100% in the right, she won't go down without a verbal fight. She has yet to figure out how to properly counter Sentinel's "NUH UH!" though. She believes this is normal and healthy as she hears time and time again how arguments are a sign of a functional relationship. White knows how in the past she never allowed anyone to express their grievances or criticize her. If they did, she'd twist their words to further force her own viewpoint or take control over their mind and body. Seeing Sentinel passionately argue back while White practices her listening skills and only sometimes speaks over him gives her hope that she isn't regressing back to her previous toxicity. No one has told her that disagreements are healthy and normal, but frequent fights and arguments are not. And the kind of hellish circles these two go in just ain't it

[ye4gerism]

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒, 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

word count 3.7k

content warning grief, mentions of death and attempted suicide, slight marital woes, frustration, curly’s mom living up to her “boy mom” title toward the end, talks about family planning (there’s not baby in this fic dw😭), black reader friendly

author’s note hi. again, thank you for the engagement on good luck, captain. this is a follow-up with post-crash curly and you both deal with the aftermath. this isn’t beta read and i’m not a professional in anything medical or legal (theatre major😓), as always, i’m open to feedback. i based this version of curly on ladonb.kokosa’s post-mouthwashing au! my requests are open as well - swing by!

synopsis set after good luck, captain! you didn’t think you’d live a life without your husband but you were and, slowly but surely, you were inching towards a new normal. And then your phone rings.

You remember the day they told you he wasn't coming home. The Pony Express first played it off as the mission being extended. And then they told you the Tuplar was missing and that the company was working their hardest to save them.

A year after their initial excuse of an extended mission, the Pony Express admitted the Tuplar was stranded 147 days into its journey. The company put the pieces together days after a report from the ship about a crash and realized it might be too late to save the crew as their oxygen was long gone.

You lost him. There wasn't even a hole in your heart but in your stomach and you felt like you were going to eat yourself alive. Your husband's body was somewhere in Space. Your Curly was gone. You were so mad at him before he left. His saddened face mixed with defensiveness was the last thing you saw. You didn't even say bye.

You don't remember how you got home. The stupid pony company called all of you - Curly's mom, Swansea's daughters, Daisuke's mother - to their headquarters under the impression that they had found them. Instead, you were sunken to your knees, unable to function.

Curly's mom stayed with you, abandoning Colorado for California. She spent every day by your side - trying to feed you on your couch as you couldn't bring yourself to sleep in the bed you shared with him. She was there to stop you from smashing every glass thing in your home from picture frames to the glass coffee table in your living room. She stopped you from ending your life when you couldn't bear to not wake up without Curly anymore.

"You're the only thing I have left of him," she told you. "You're like a daughter now. My responsibility."

Another year passed by - another anniversary, another birthday, another day he was supposed to be home. You were slightly better now, still living in your husband's home. You started going back to work. You were getting ready to go one morning when you received a call from a number you didn't recognize.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mrs. Curly?"

You hadn't used that name since he died. "This...this is she."

Cedars-Sinai had a body. They were in and out of consciousness but showed life and the hospital wanted to get this person in the best shape possible and send them back home. They said you were a person of interest.

So you went.

Was it bad that you were hoping it wasn't him? What if it was that boy, Daisuke? He wasn't a kid but he was still so young and full of life. You noticed him before you sort of saw Curly off. You remember his mom and how devastated she was when you all heard the news.

When you arrived at the hospital, you were immediately met with authorities. Before you could move any further, some investigators asked you to follow them into an empty examination room.

"The Tuplar was brought back here and we've had it for a while as you've heard," they started. "Everyone aboard is dead except one - the body you were called about. They didn't have a uniform on like the rest of the crew."

"Why are you telling just me this? Shouldn't there be other people hearing this news?" You hesitantly step back.

"We're hoping that body belongs to your husband. The medical side of this investigation is positive it’s him.”

They go on to explain what they think happened. All signs pointed to Jimmy, who seemed to be the only one who shot himself. They were still trying to piece together if he indirectly or directly murdered everyone else but it was clear he put your husband in the cryopod they found him in.

"We think the crash the freighter company caught wind of was the start of all of this. Your husband probably tried to stop the Tuplar from crashing," one of the investigators continued.

"Is he…okay? Can I see him?" Fuck Jimmy and fuck that ship.

The investigators go silent and look at each other, realizing you haven’t seen him yet. You start to grow impatient. "Can I see him?” you repeat.

"Please get you and your husband a lawyer. You'll need one. We're a call away if you both need any help." They slide you a contact card, leaving you confused.

"Where are you going?!" You follow them out of the examination room. You look down the hallway and decide that the investigators are no help and you decide to ask the medical personnel crowding the hall. You tap the back of a nurse. "Where is my husband? He’s Captain Grant Curly of the Tuplar." The nurse’s mouth twists in confusion but when your words settle she gives you the guiltiest look ever.

This continues as you move through the sea of so-called experts. You finally reach a room and you know it's him when two more nurses emerge for the room with fear-stricken faces. You're not so sure anymore if you want to go in there. The world around you goes silent; you're not sure if everyone around you knows you’re the Captain's wife or if you were used to tuning everything out by now.

You take a brave step and enter.

And immediately, you felt that hole growing in your stomach again.

One look at him and you were stumbling back. You fell on your rear, hand over your mouth, unable to control your tears or your screams. Finally, everyone in the hallway wanted to do their jobs.

Most days are awkward. The Curly now isn't the Curly you met years ago in London. He was quieter and less trusting of others. But who could really blame him?

Another year in - no anniversary date, no birthday, but he was here...and at the same time, he wasn't.

The investigation was adamant on their theory that Jimmy was the root of it all - the crash, your husband's burns, the deaths. It was something seeing random members of Jimmy's family coming out to defend him. The way he was so attached to Curly, you thought he didn't have any relatives.

His mom would get in T.V. and bawl her eyes out. She'd go on and on about how he was a sweet boy, that he was bullied growing up and it's hard for him to trust others. She'd talk about how Jimmy wouldn't intentionally hurt Curly and that the latter was his "'bestest' friend in the “whole entire world” so that means he wouldn’t hurt his best friend on purpose. She said Jimmy was troubled. That you could agree with but not in the same sense.

With your husband not being as talkative and responsive as he used to be, there was a long way to go before gaining a full understanding of what had happened and why. They had to get him to gesture for responses. Sometimes they couldn't get anything out of him. The whole situation was complicated on its own and it didn’t help that his voice was taken from him.

You wondered if he was mad at you. Your last conversation wasn't your proudest moment. Yes, he couldn’t speak but he wouldn’t look you in the eye or sometimes he’d turn his head slightly when you tried interacting with him.

Or maybe he was cold to everyone. His mom pretty much lived in your home now and he wasn't as responsive to her either. However, you remember all the times she complained about you, and before the mission, he had plans to confront her about it.

He was on a new diet. His doctors encouraged him to have everything blended to start and a lot of nutrients to help him with his health. You often were the one to feed him.

Some days he was willing. Tonight he was stubborn.

"Please. Please eat this," you begged. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and "snack time" were either the worst or best times of your day. He turned his head away and then his body the more you begged. The last straw was when he moved what was left of his arm slightly knocking the eating utensil back onto you and on your clothes.

He realizes what he’s done and looks over at you to see your fuming face.

You take a deep breath trying to hold yourself but you can't. You both wrote vows to each other, put on rings, and lived as a married couple for years. You were helping him when it could be some random fresh-of-school nurse who knew nothing about him.

"I know it's hard being you these days. Hard not having much autonomy, hard not having a voice but sometimes it's hard being your wife and it's been like that for years." You pick the spoon up off of you and throw it on the hospital bed table.

"Even when you weren't..." you struggle to find the words to describe the state he's in, "Even when you weren't you now, it was hard being your wife. With your mom letting me know I didn't deserve you, with your extreme obliviousness, and fucking Jimmy fucking everything up per fucking usual."

For once, he was focused on you, tracking how your hands frustratingly danced with the words coming out of your mouth. "So, fuck me for trying right? Fuck me for waiting, fuck me for giving up my dream for us, fuck me for staying."

For extra effect, you get up pushing your chair a little too far back, that it falls. You notice him wince, how his shoulders slightly jump. "Fuck me! Fuck it all, Grant!" You finish off. You storm off into the hallway completely done with all of this.

You often asked yourself if you were ever making the right choice. He had nurses and doctors - people who knew how to take care of him.

"You're doing the right thing by sticking beside him," his doctor told you once. “He’s more responsive when you’re around. You’re helping him adjust.”

The guilt settled in. You were frustrated. You didn’t need to yell at him like that. You close your eyes and decide to go back into his room. You can't give up on him.

"Curly, baby?"

He's still sitting up, head hanging low now. You pick up the chair and the spoon off the table. “I…I didn't mean to lash out at you. I apologize for doing so.” You sit down and take a deep breath. “I just feel like such a failure. I let you get on that fucking ship and I let you get on with that…that…”

Jimmy wasn’t a man but he wasn’t a little boy either. He was genuinely miserable but yet so immature.

“And when you don’t eat, I feel like I’m doing something wrong. I want you to get better and I want to do better by you. Please," you beg.

You scoop up some blended broccoli and for the first time that day, he eats.

Another 365 days. You plan your anniversary dinner at the hospital with hospital cafeteria food, he's able to have a bit of birthday cake, and slowly, he's redefining himself.

The past year was full of constant hospital visits; your husband's doctor wanted specialists to give him skin grafts so he could at least feel and look more human than before - a statement you didn't like hearing. You always felt like everyone looked at him as some bizarre yet groundbreaking science project. For fuck sake, he and his crew were targeted and he was hurt trying to save their lives.

Curly had gotten sick from an infection he likely developed from his time in the cryopod to his return back to Earth. Despite being treated like a textbook study, he was well enough to come home for a little bit before the start of this current year.

You started the year by looking into different hand and leg prosthetics. You were only able to afford mechanical hook hands and legs for the first go but hopefully, this lawsuit against Pony Express will bring you enough to buy the robotic hands and legs he was eyeing.

He spent time between your home and the hospital after the first few skin graft procedures and he was fairing better in the hospital compared to home. You were bummed when you agreed to have him live full time in a hospital but you came to terms that something like this took a village. You hated his doctor, the nurses, and every other "specialist" who treated him like he wasn't human but they knew what they were doing. He just needed someone who still saw his human side and had the power to defend him - you.

When you weren't in court or with a lawyer or taking time to yourself at home, you were here with him. You told him about your week, complained about your concerns, and sometimes you'd sit in silence.

His newest and biggest milestone was his voice box. It took a while, and multiple ridiculous accents and dialects, to adjust but he finally spoke when the voice specialists you both worked with could give him an Australian accent.

"Say something," his coach encouraged, "I really think this might be the one."

Curly looks at you first, offering you his right mechanical hand. You look at it and for once you aren't reluctant and you hold it. You remember the first time he held your elbow and then your wrist the time you met. You remember how it made you feel; you were drinking at that pub but not feel more freeing than how he touched you that first night.

You felt that again. It was still there.

"I love you," he says. His voice is definitely from Down Under and it sounds a little electronically fried but your Curly had his voice again. You try to contain yourself. You didn't want to make him feel bad by crying. Your free hand finds itself on top of his and you pull it up to your lips.

"I love you too, Captain."

So the years keep passing and he gets better every day. Less time in the hospital and more time trying to beat him in a race. Curly loves to run; it's all he does. Every day he runs twice: once early in the morning and again before dinner. You've never woken up

to him beside you but to the sound of him returning and the feel of him rubbing his forehead against yours.

Oh, and he’s gotten back into skiing. At least once in a few you both visit Colorado and you watch him do his little snow sports. Coming from California, you didn’t really get it but you loved seeing how his eye lit up once he met you at the end.

He's eating solids. You have enough money for the hands he wanted but somehow you can't fathom not being able to help him eat. Sitting in the dining room was when you felt most intimate with him. It was just the two of you and when you felt the most vulnerable. However, you wanted the best for him and you wanted him to grow. So…maybe they’ll be a Christmas gift later? You can’t decide.

The investigation settled when your husband could finally tell his story from the layoff news to Jimmy's multiple violations. The Pony Express chose to settle rather than fight it out of court. Your lawyers wanted to go after Jimmy’s family next but as much as you wanted to ruin him, you found it wasn’t worth it. Jimmy died and he never got to have what you have. He could burn in Hell ten times over.

So the saga was coming to an end; the news found a different story to report on, Curly was home and was getting better and stronger, and you both found your rhythm again.

And his mom was returning back to the woman you knew before your husband's return.

She comes over one night for dinner. "So, now that things are settled...can I make the grandkid joke?" she starts. Mrs. Former Curly is the only one laughing and she knows it.

It was like oxygen had just been sucked out of the planet. You've lost your appetite. "Excuse me. I'm just going to get some air." You kiss your husband's forehead, trying to let him know you are fine. Him feeling guilty about all of this would break your heart. It really wasn't his fault.

The cold, rough feel of cement on the stairs brought a shiver to your spine but it became comfortable. You pull your knees up to your chest and stare out into the street.

"And see here-" Curly's standing in the middle of the street. "Our kid is going to draw little flowers and stars and stick figures of our family and neighborhood."

"Grant, please get out of the street," you yell out to him. He complies and comes over wrapping his arms around your waist. "Why would I need a kid if I have you around?" you joke.

"Well, Mrs. Serious, I need a mini-me to share my crazy, hopeful ideas with right? To give you some space," he jokes back.

You both only really wanted one. If you had more, fine - but you only were prepped for one child.

You hold his face before pulling him in for a kiss.

"You think she'll have your hair and my eyes?" he asks once you pull away. You raise an eyebrow. "What makes you think we'll have a girl?"

He has the hugest grin on his face. "Just a feeling. We're definitely girl parents!"

What the hell happened? If you only nagged him harder about working somewhere else or if he didn't pick up that phone call or if Jimmy could hold on his own.

What if you never met him? Told him to fuck off in London? You would meet some mediocre guy here in the States and convince yourself that he was your soulmate and you'd have the little girl you wondered about often running around your home.

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel a brush of air and Curly is getting down to sit next to you. He stares out into the street and it settles for him too. You both sit in silence.

He breaks it first. “I told her I’d check on you and once you’re settled, I’ll go back and kick her out. That was really uncalled for.”

You follow up. "It's not your fault, you know? Everything else, I mean. Not what your mom said.”

"I should have listened to you. I shouldn't have settled with Pony Express or Jimmy or how I viewed the world," he answers. "Imagine how different our lives would be."

"You have a heart of gold and unfortunately, you see the good in everyone even when you shouldn't. I know you feel so much guilt about...you know, Jimmy and what happened on the Tuplar. But you learned," You look over at him before placing a hand on his back. "Next time, you'll be more responsible."

You move closer to him and start rubbing his back slowly. He doesn't say anything back, so you change the subject.

"How do I tell your mom I don't want kids anymore? It's something that just can't happen and I accept that."

He doesn't say anything but hums, telling you that he's thinking. "Are you sure? That room is empty other than the stuff I left in there,” he finally says.

When you first moved in, Curly began to buy things that reminded him of the little girl you were yet to have and put them in the room you reserved for your first child. You thought he was insane but sure, whatever makes you feel prepped.

"You clearly still want it if you haven't cleared the room," he says.

You hang your head. "When I thought you died, I considered other options: adoption, surrogacy, insemination. People told me to look into that stuff… to keep the home full, they said. But I think where we are right now, we can put our wants aside. Maybe for good." You move your hand from his back to his knee. "I need to fix us first. Make sure we're okay...and that's going to take a long time."

He's still looking out into the street.

"Baby," you quietly say to him, "A kid isn't going to fix us, I'm really really sorry. I have to make sure you’re at your best and moreover, I can't raise a child when I'm not happy. It'll take us a long time to pick up where we left off."

"I don't make you happy?" You can see the sadness in his eye and you feel that large hole in your stomach ready to eat you up.

Jimmy, even in death, got what he wanted. The confusion and hurt that he tried to inflict on your relationship finally found you both.

"You make me happy, Grant. You'll always make me happy. I'm so glad you still love me because I always loved you, even when I thought you were gone for good," you clarify. You gently hold his jaw and have him look at you. "I'm just not happy with what's happened to us. When they first told me I lost you, I thought I was going to die. And those days when you came back...and the fight to keep you alive and to keep you with me..." your voice trails off.

You stay frozen in this position before you feel him wrapping one arm around your waist, being you as close as you can be to him. "Okay," is all he can manage to say. It was filled with so much weight yet understanding.

"You conquered the Tuplar and we can conquer this," you quietly to him.

For once, neither of you knew what this entailed but you also know that when his co-pilot would crash their ship, he didn't know he'd find his way home and you both didn't know that you'd be sitting outside like this. But you had your faith and hope in each other.

There isn't much to fear.

[sword-fern-rants]

why I think "pretend like its the first time" is one of if not the best arcane episode

personally I'm a sucker for "what could have been" so this is all my opinion, but episode 7 was amazing, heartwarming and above all SAD. (I am ashamed to admit I cried) but the point is this episode was beautifully done to show us what would happen if powder had never been jinx.

from the beginning of the series we could all tell powder was smart, like she could build these inventions, they might not always work, but it was obvious she would improve with time. then when we see jinx in the initial time skip, she's gotten so much better with all her inventions, in "pretend like its the first time" we see what would happen if jinx's power was used for good.

also it was really wholesome to see vander and silco as friends again, the undercity and piltover connected, milo and claggor well. and ekko reiuniting with benny (albeit for a short time) was one of the saddest moments in my opinion.

now with my opinions on jinx/powder and ekko. powder and ekko's relationship was always interesting to me. in the first 3 episodes they didn't interact a lot, but they were the same age where there wasn't a lot of kids, and in the "enemy" music video we got to see more of their friendship dynamic, (if you haven't seen it I highly recommend it) also, in an interview one of the writers I think was telling the interviewer about a deleted scene where young ekko tries to "save" jinx from silco, but jinx lashes out at him, so that plants the seeds of their rivalry in season one. but in "pretend like its the first time" ekko originally thought jinx/powder was bad and would always be bad, but we see him realize, that with everything that's happened to her its reasonable that powder would become jinx, and while he's in the alternate dimension he really savors the time he had with her.

now the jinx/powder x ekko ship was always cute in my opinion, and from what we saw in their fight scene on the bridge in season one, as ekko was about to kill her he hesitated, why? because he still saw the girl he had grown up with, and I think jinx saw something similar.

but anyways from his experiences in the alternate dimension ekko realizes that circumstances made jinx and that powder wasn't truly gone, which is why he stops her from trying to kill herself, AND SHE LISTENS. this is crazy to me because kind doesn't listen to anyone, if vi was there she wouldn't have listened and she would have died anyways, and the probably the same would happen with ANY OTHER CHARACTER. but EKKO managed to get past all that, and convince her to live, so in conclusion they truly were in love. and even if jinx isn't dead (see one of my previous posts) she probably wants to stay away from everyone, and if she isn't dead ekko is still alone. but it still gives me comfort to know in tat alternate reality, powder and ekko can still be happy.

he truly loved her

THE END

[nervouswhizkid]

i. am so mad. i'm mad at season 4 and at every one of you that interacted with my last post abt vld season 3. i know u were all sitting there giggling at me as i walked into s4 knowing full well it was going to destroy me. no WARNING??? i don't even want to sit down and write about it, i'm gonna start crying all over again

i hate that keith left the team. i have to actually practice breathing techniques right now because it's making me so mad omg. i know i said last time that voltron without lance was unthinkable, but i didn't mean that keith should leave. THAT IS NOT WHAT I WANTED!!!! that also means that there was less keith (and klance) content this season, which i take personally. they did that to hurt me specifically. and on top of that, the team was being so mean about keith's wavering priorities. i feel like when anything goes wrong, with lance and keith specifically, everyone is so mean to them??? god forbid they make a mistake or have personal struggles, DAMN

i feel like this screencap says it all.

guys how about let's talk to each other instead of being passive aggressive and icing people out (i do want to point out though that lance seems more sad/disappointed here than anything. my little klance heart is breaking 😭) AND THIS SCENE??

the moment i realized keith was about to walk in my stomach dropped. they all look so angry and here comes Mister Puppy Eyes McGee. i actually can't take it that's my son everyone leave him alone!!! 🤺🤺🤺🤺 i know they had a big group hug after but that's not good enough for me, they should have tied keith up or handcuffed him to the ship, or something. WHY ARE WE LETTING HIM GO WITH THE BLADE OHMYGODDDD

look at this, like??

the camera setup is what gets me. you have keith smiling with all of his friends in the background and then it swaps to a dark, yawning hallway with the most heartbreaking frown on his face. that doesn't look like someone sure of their decisions to me. this boy is in pain!! i'm also just confused about shiro being able to pilot the black lion. maybe confused isn't the right word, but i'm not sure how to describe it. i'm not convinced?? black already denied him, so why now? i kinda feel like it would've been better had he not tried to reconnect with her at the end of last season, because there was no suspense for me this time. the moment he decided to go try again i was like "oh it's gonna work this time isn't it" i get that it's likely black could sense keith's internal struggles and feel him pulling away and maybe that's why she gave shiro a second chance, but shiro becoming the black paladin again gave keith the excuse to leave, because why do they need him now? they have a black paladin, and it's not him. but to me, it should have been. he went through all of that growth last season, and for what?? just to abandon them when things get rocky?? ugh, i hate this!!

i can't even talk about episode 2 without crying, so just know that i'm sitting here with tears streaming down my face as i write this. i was really excited to finally get some closure on the whole pidge-missing-family mystery, considering that's been a subplot since the beginning of the show. as much as this episode broke my heart, i really did love it. they executed it so well. the scene where pidge lands on that planet with the graves? and they're running and pleading for it to not be true, all the flashbacks of cherished memories and images of matt? dropping to her knees in front of his grave in disbelief??

now that's fucking cinema. you best believe i was bawling my eyes out the whole time. i have a little sister and our relationship is very similar to pidge and matt's, so this was just excruciating. i'm very glad he wasn't actually dead, but part of me almost wishes he was? that sounds SO dark, i hope you guys get what i mean. they just put the audience through the absolute wringer and then they're like "oh, actually he's still alive LOL gotcha!" and that makes me really happy for pidge, but man, what a plot twist that would have been. they've been searching for their brother all this time, so you expect some kind of payoff for dedicating so much time to that storyline, but what if he was just dead?? and there was nothing she could do?? wow this is painful to talk about why did i start watching this show if there's a fic where someone explores that possibility then pls share, for some reason i want to torture myself again, i just love how they did this episode. it's very trope-y, but sometimes you just have to lean into it and enjoy, and this was one of those times

the classic fighting-each-other-unknowingly and middle-of-the-fight-identity-reveal? i'll eat it up every time!!

real talk though why is matt so attractive 😏

soo, zarkon is back. fantastic. do he and haggar just not care about each other?? they haven't mentioned the fact that they're married at all and haggar basically still acts like his loyal follower. i'd entertain the thought that maybe it's been so long that it just doesn't really matter to them anymore, but haggar sounded like she actually cared when she realized they were husband and wife last season. but now it's like nothing happened?? i don't expect them to act all lovey-dovey, but there wasn't even a single line of acknowledgment. and i still cannot understand what lotor's plans are. what is his agenda? he wasn’t bothered at all by zarkon reclaiming the throne, and even went to the trouble to make them think he cared. he got that comet and made a couple of ships, but i still don't know what he plans to do with them. also– i can't believe he killed narti!! i know, i was literally just talking about how she specifically frustrated me, but i was so not expecting their death. i get why he did it, but now the rest of his group doesn't trust him.

i'd say that the one bright spot in this season was episode four. that episode was just so silly and gave me so much secondhand-embarrassment i actually had to look away at times LMAO is this where we got the whole Loverboy Lance and Lone Wolf Keith thing from?? i thought that was purely fandom-made, i was not expecting to hear that in an actual episode. talk about whiplash. and we got this ICONIC scene:

he did that wayyy too naturally. lance, buddy, got anything to share?

i really would have loved to see keith with the team during that episode. i can just imagine how he would've reacted to having to do all of that stuff. god, that would've been hysterical!! the images of the parasite in coran's brain made me gag though, was that really necessary🧍‍♀️

i don't have a ton to say about the final episodes. i mean, it was two episodes of them fighting on naxzela. it was definitely a bit of an avengers endgame feeling with all people they helped in previous seasons showing up to fight, so that was cool! i'm curious as to what purpose naxzela served to the galra empire though. were they always planning to use it as a bomb? and couldn't they still do that technically? they only broke the witches connection with it, so all they'd have to do is get another ship out there and she could do it again. what do you even do with a planet like that?? just destroy it?? i also just want to point out that lance said they should get out of there immediately, and nobody listened!! and then five seconds later they were like "oh no, we need to get out of here!" justice for lance i stg ohmygod and LOTOR is on their side now?!?!?! i actually can't wait to see how this plays out!! total transparency, i love atla and i could absolutely see this being a zuko redemption arc situation. it's clear his parents don't like him at all (are they actually heartless or something??) so why not join the other side!! I'M HERE FOR IT

i have to be honest, this definitely wasn't my favorite season. we're getting into the later seasons and i've heard plenty about how the writing goes a little left-field (though i'm not sure when that happens. most people seem to agree season 8 is shit, but i've heard complaints about s6-7 as well) so we'll just have to see! i'm sticking it out as best i can🚶‍♀️‍➡️ onto season 5!

[doshiart]

🖤 ART TAG 🖤

Hey to all artists! I want to talk about our art journey. Some of us have a long path, some have started only recently, but each of us has had our own individual path and I think it's really important to remember how we all started. And it's also important to share it with others so that no one would be scared to start their own journey and just create.

How did you start drawing? What year was it that you become more seriously and consciously interested in it?

As everyone I'll say I've been drawing since early childhood, but I think the end of 2019 is my beginning. Because that's the time I started to practice actively.

When you felt the urge to share your art with other people? When did you start posting your drawings on social media?

Maybe it's always been? I think for the first time I posted something traditional drawn on my personal social media. I started my art socials in 2020.

Your first/earliest drawing. What were your impressions of it back then and what are your feelings now?

It's hard to track my very first drawing, but here are the early traditional drawings and my very first digital hand drawing. It was before I got a tablet, so it was drawn with a mouse. My impressions? My hand was tired... But if seriously back then it looked like something cool to me and I was surprised that I could draw something like that. Now, of course, I can see all my mistakes. But let's be honest, any mistake is a move forward.

🚧 ALARM 🚧

My very first attempts after getting a tablet.

Should I mention that I was upset at the first second that it didn't work out on the first try?

Your first fanart ever

I had a lot of traditional drawings of Adventure Time (I'm a big fan of Marceline). It's roughly a little over a decade ago.

But in digital, I guess this? Snufkin and The Groke from Moomin stories. [aug 8, 2020]

Your first gallavich fanart

Hi babies! This post and this post.

[nov 27, 2023] - oh my god it's almost a year???

But what if I told you that my sister asked me to draw Cameron Monaghan… Who knew that ten years later I'd be drawing him once again...

When you had bad days and things didn't work out, what inspired you to keep trying?

I just need to rest, try again, or think about what exactly goes wrong. When I started my path as a digital artist I was very inspired by the older work by 'big artists'. No one is perfect at the first moment and there is always a long road of striving and practice behind cool works. And I knew that the more I tried, the more I could consider myself 'cool' too. (spoiler: that feeling is still with me)

Show your old piece that you strongly dislike and tell why.

It's a hard choice. I stopped liking a lot of my work after a time, but this one was initially a struggle. I really didn't like how it looked in the end. I wasn't able to draw it as I wanted, and had problems with the face and dynamics. But the background is cool! (A lot of the work you don't like has some good in it!)

Renee and Andrew from AFTG [dec 5, 2021]

Show your old piece that you very like and tell why. What's the difference with the previous?

I love the shading and the face, especially eyes. And i still love this drawing! Face looks better than previous and hair has a dynamic, and the expression is really good.

Buck Toothsome from School for vampires [nov 8, 2021]

Show your old piece that you were very proud of back then.

I really loved this study redraw!

Ginny with Marcus from Ginny & Georgia [june 22, 2021]

Do you do any practice sketches or warm-ups before you draw something big?

I've started to do it recently! I'd forgotten how many sketches I made in sketchbooks when I was studying drawing.

I tried to change the pen pressure.

Sketch vs Final. Show your process.

Actually, it's been a tough process.

Your most recent drawing.

I'm working on my secret santa's gift right now, so I can't share it 🤭But here's my last sketch during warm-up session 🤲🖤

Give yourself some praise! Look at what improved in your art!

I just want to say that four years ago I would've been shocked by my current drawings. I've really improved in drawing faces and anatomy, I'm trying new interesting composition, trying to learn new things and use it in my works.

Any advice you'd give to your earlier self?

Do more thinking while creating your art. Do a sketches warm-ups before digging into the big work. Don't be afraid to draw it again if something doesn't work. Take breaks to physically exercise!

Set a goal for yourself for the coming year.

I want to improve facial expressions. Make a professional portfolio. Keep growing and enjoying drawing.

I want to see more your drawings...

@deathclassic @suzy-queued @kiennilove @gallapiech @spookygingerr

@konaiiro @michellemisfit @heymrspatel @vintagelacerosette @sgtmickeyslaughter

@burninface @lingy910y @crossmydna @deedala

[noonwardmoss]

A short piece regarding this post of mine. If you can't find 'em, make 'em.

Apologies for any errors. I wrote this very quickly in my Notes app because I hate myself apparently

CW: Anal, VERY slight daddy/petplay kink on Butcher's part (he calls himself Daddy and you pet/dove)

SMUT BELOW CUT

You're dribbling into the sheets, pussy clenching around nothing and drooling desperately. Butcher's got his big hands on your ass cheeks, holding them spread and forcing you to take it. Most of his weight is on you in this position, and you're some fuzzy place past cockdumb with the air forced out of your lungs with each thrust, but it feels too good to make him stop.

"Good fuckin' girl," he grumbles when you arch your back further. You can feel his eyes burning where he slams into you, watching your hole accept him greedily again and again. "Told ya you'd like it—choking my cock like yer trying to keep a piece'a me for later."

His words make you whine, as they often do, and a chuckle reaches your ears. You were hesitant before, but God was he right. From him fingering your ass to actually fucking it, you've been drenched the whole time. It's just something about him that makes you enjoy nearly anything.

"Thinkin' I can keep a load or two in here, sweetheart," Butcher muses, hips slamming into yours with bruising force. He has your face pressed into the sheets, tears soaking the material. "What'dya say? Think she can take bein' stuffed?"

Despite not being fully aware, you nod desperately. As long as he speaks to you like that, there's little you won't do for him and he knows it. It's seldom you deny him in the first place. You can practically hear his shit-eating grin when he says, "That's what I like to hear, dove."

His grip shifts more toward your thighs, pushing them together as his angle changes so he can get deeper with more force. Pitiful whines rip from your throat as he does, nails gripping the bed for any sort of steadiness. You know you probably won't walk right after this—Butcher's already nearly too thick for your cunt—and some part of you delights in that fact.

"Ah– fuck, Butcher–" you manage through moans. He swats at your leg with a groan as you flutter around him.

"That's it, darl'," he soothes, slightly mocking. His hand hooks around your pelvis, fingers dipping into your slit just to feel your ache for him. "Tsk. This needy hole need some love too, pet? Should'a just told me. More than happy to help with 'at."

A scream nearly tears from you as two of his digits slide into you, their girth welcomed by your slickness. His huffed amusement sounds right by your ear.

"I'm the only one who can do this for you, ey? Only bastard bigger enough than you to fill you all up just right," he grunts. When you clench, he curses. "Fuck, making me wanna switch over here, doll. That slutty cunt of yours is gripping me fingers tight."

He knows he's got you when your eyes roll back.

"Oh, close, is she? Well go on, give me a show. Let Daddy feel you come while he fucks yer ass."

You tip over the edge, voice all scratchy from the moaning he makes you do. He's the only man who ever gets you this noisy in bed. That cockiness of his is for a damn good reason. He groans and follows shortly after, spilling into you with the stuttering of his hips.

When he pulls out, you can feel yourself gaping and dripping his sperm. He pushes it back in with his fingers and presses his dick in again.

"Said I was gonna fuck two or so loads in, didn't I?" He smirks, and you whimper into the sheets.

[marimeeko]

Secrets (post war, bkdk, mutual yearning and idiocy)

Izuku quite liked settling into a habit with Kacchan, where the young ProHero would come visit the UA campus on their lunch breaks and they would share a meal together. He was still an understudy and teacher assistant, and so he didn't have his own classroom, but Katsuki could always find him through the windows.

The more they lunched together, the more Izuku happened to notice a lot of texts popping up on Katsuki's phone, sitting on the table next to where Katsuki scarfed down his daily bento.

He could see, when the little push notification popped up, the name "Pink Support Girl", popping up more and more.

He doesn't immediately think much of it, after all, Hatsume is a skilled, professional support tech now and he likely has her working on upgrades and fixes for his gear.

But sometimes, Katsuki will pick up the phone and check the message. And then, sometimes, this strange grin would show up on his face. And sometimes he would tap back a message at an alarming speed.

Izuku is intrigued by it. But whenever he hears the text alert on Katsuki's phone and sees Hatsume light up on the screen and concludes that Katsuki is very obviously in a deep back and forth...

He can't help but feel...strangely anxious.

One day, he sucks it up and asks awkwardly over lunch,

"Kacchan...are you and Mei Hatsume...dating?"

Katsuki chokes on his food a little and looks at Izuku like he's grown a second head.

"Dating?? What the hell are you talking about?"

Izuku regrets asking, but inches forward anyway.

"Sorry, it's intrusive of me! But i just... I notice you two have been texting a lot. I mean if you are, that's fine! I was just...curious?"

Katsuki's face traveled through a range of reactions as Izuku had babbled, but landed on a vague tinge of apprehension bordering on the guilt of getting caught in something.

Shit, he should have known better than to engage in those conversations too much in front of Izuku. Izuku is clever and observant, and he knew it. Of course he would catch on to something going on.

"Hell no," Katsuki didn't miss a beat, scoffing as he usually would. "There's a project I'm having her work on, it's kind of involved...she won't leave me alone with updates and shit."

Well, he couldn't exactly lie to his best friend and rival, after all...

The expression on Izukus face went from genuine confusion(and perhaps a hint of dread), to one of excitement.

"A new project? Oh my gosh, what is it? New gear? Is it new gauntlets?" The spark in his eyes showed that Izuku's nerd side had been activated. Katsuki snorted with a laugh, thinking that the teacher in training was seconds away from grabbing his current Quirk notebook to try to update his "Kacchan: GEMG DynaMight" entries in a flurry.

"Sure, sure," Katsuki accepted the assumption as his cover story. New gauntlets, truthfully, were on his to-do list, though he had prioritized them far below funding Izuku's secret suit. "I've got some big plans. You'll see." He grinned at Izuku, and Izuku recalled all the smaller grins that he had given to the texts from Mei.

Izuku smiled, now realizing that the grins were of deep pride for Katsuki, not at all of affection for a lover. He really was eager to share.

"Oh I hope so! I can't wait! If it's not too forward of me...again... is it too late to tell you and Hatsume my own thoughts on your gauntlets?" He asked, almost shyly.

Katsuki was tongue-tied, looking at the earnest, and frankly, adorable look on Izuku's face as he implored him. He felt his face heating up, feeling the rest of his resolve just melting. Izuku had no idea that this wasn't even about Katsuki's own gear...it was all for him. And Katsuki was aware enough now to know that Izuku truly wanted to help him, one of his most heroic(and attractive) features.

Katsuki felt a yearning inside; He wanted to share his secret so badly, wanted to show Izuku so many schematics and drafts that were buzzing constantly in his head as he went about daily life, but he knew, they were still years and a whole lot of money, from the point of reveal.

Katsuki caved to Izuku's request.

He leaned closer to Izuku, whose heart skipped a beat with the sudden proximity to the blonde.

"You have 10 minutes before I have to get back out to patrol," Katsuki said smoothly, only his crimson eyes slinking to the clock on the wall of the empty classroom, and back to smolder at Izuku's sparkling green eyes and flushed cheeks.

"Tell me what's in that nerdy notebook of yours."

--

B: Hey. Need to talk to you.

H: Sure, got those specs for me?? I need em asap

B: In a second.

B: I need to move all non-urgent communication to email

H: Inconvenient, inefficient. Absolutely not. Why??

B: Deku noticed how much we have been texting

B: thought we were dating.

H: lmao!!! Dating!!!

B: stfu I dont want him figuring out what is going on until it's time!!

B: Damn nerd too smart for his own good

H: 😏

B: 💥💥💥 fuck off

H: no way to speak to your engineer. Specs please.

H: also hey, just mute your notifications and turn off push if you don't want him seeing who's texting you. I'm not waiting for emails while you're out doing hero stuff in the field all day. I'll start making my own executive decisions and charging you extra at that point!!

B: UGH FINE

B: hey...

B: there's one other thing...

H: what?

B: ....I need to get some new Gauntlets made.

[coquelicoq]

post-canon every single member of kimcom likes to spoon kim dokja. nonsexually. it's just nice to know he's alive and there and feel his chest rise and fall within the circle of your arms. try to do something stupid now asshole. oh you can't? because of my octopus impression? that's right. take THAT. however i will make one exception for yoo joonghyuk. yoo joonghyuk may want to spoon kim dokja, but he never gets the opportunity because kim dokja wants to spoon him more. so the sleeping arrangement is yjh>kdj>all other kimcom members on rotation. actually i take it back there's one other household member who doesn't want to spoon kim dokja and it's yoo mia, but that's fine because she's one of the only people (besides kim dokja) who yoo joonghyuk would be comfortable spooning. so there's probably times when it's yma>yjh>kdj>today's lucky winner.

incidentally this is also the order for the doing-each-other's-hair train because while yoo mia WILL allow other people to do her hair, no one wants to because she always compares their skills unfavorably to her brother's. and she's really articulate about it. just utterly scathing. one time her criticism was so devastatingly, accurately incisive that she made lee hyunsung cry. yoo joonghyuk spooned him that night to cheer him up and yoo mia was so mad about it that lee hyunsung had to leave the country for a couple weeks. the household learned a valuable lesson that day. it's best not to disturb the delicate spooning/hair-train balance.