#watch me be wrong on thursday lol

[deus-ex-mona]

it sure has been quite a week

[poistura]

HE WAS A PUNK, SHE DID BALLET

pairings. nonidol!hyungline x fem!reader in which. reader’s perfect and calm life has been completely turned upside down since she met her boyfriend wc. 1.5K warnings. enha are basically troublemakers lol, climbing a window in hee’s one, jake’s one is HEAVILY inspired by a gilmore girls episode, mentions of fights and bruises, not proofread genre. fluff ( link to masterlist )

author’s note wrote this while listening to sk8er boy by avril lavigne and i love her that’s it, jay’s one is a bit short i’m sorry 💔 also!! maknae line’s one is coming soon 🫧

𝐋. heeseung

you were seated at your desk in your room, so engrossed on studying your books, that the sound of tapping on the window almost made you flinch.

turning around to the place the sound came from, you see him. he smirks slyly, causing you to sigh and get up, opening the window “you know, you could’ve used the front door”, heeseung climbs in “i figured your parents wouldn’t be really pleased to see me” he says as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“plus, this is way more charming than using the front door, is it?” that sentence made you chuckle “oh sure, prince charming. i really want to watch you climb down from my window now”. heeseung gulps “well, i’ll worry about it after i get to cuddle you, angel” he says with a smile before attacking your face with soft pecks, making you giggle.

it was really true that heeseung was soft and caring on the inside, but you seemed to make him melt way more often than he was used to, not like he was complaining about it anyways.

“what are you studying?” “biology” heeseung scoffs “you really have to spend your night studying something as dull as biology?” you roll your eyes playfully “at least i do study, i suggest you to try it, that would be good for you” he just simply shrugs playfully and pinches your waist, making you let out a soft giggle.

despite claiming that studying is the most monotonous thing you could ever do on a thursday night, heeseung finds himself sitting with you, listening to you revise the subject, but both of you know he’s not even paying attention to anything you’re saying, he doesn’t care at all. what he’s paying attention to, is the way your eyes look up while thinking of a term, the way your hands move to emphasize your speech and the soft hums you let out while thinking of the material you studied earlier.

actually, maybe heeseung was wrong, maybe this was the best way he could spend his thursday night.

𝐏. jongseong

you watched as your boyfriend played you his self-written songs on his guitar, feeling happy to be in his presence and to be the only girl who could have the pleasure to listen to those sweet songs he wrote for you. “what do you think?”, you smile softly “it’s really great; i love it”.

the faint blush on your boyfriend’s cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you. “hey, can i try too?” you ask him and he looks at you surprised “the great violinist wants to play something as edgy as the electric guitar?” you roll your eyes playfully “worried i’ll be better than you?”.

jay grins and pats the empty space between his legs, handing you the guitar and guiding you through the notes “put your finger here, here and here” he says as he gently moves your fingers on the strings. your heartbeat started to quicken as he was impossibly close to you and touched your fingers delicately “give it a try, chopin” he teases as you try to play the new instrument.

after a few tries, you manage to let out a few neat notes from the instrument, eliciting a proud smile from your boyfriend “wow chopin”, you chuckle “jay, chopin is a pianist” “same thing”. you both let out a few giggles before he pecks your temple and smiles softly at you “if you learn how to play the guitar, i can’t surprise you with my serenades anymore”, you chuckle softly “well, i think my mom would be glad to not hear you play at 1am, but maybe i could serenade you too sometimes”.

jay smiles and softly pecks your lips “yea, i’d like some classical operas being played for me at 1am”

𝐒. jaeyun

you would’ve never thought to see your boyfriend all dolled up to take you to your highschool’s dance for a charity event. you insisted that it wasn’t a big deal, and you weren’t even enthusiastic about going to that dance, but your boyfriend insisted on being a good boyfriend (aka, showing you off to everyone) and decided it was important for you to attend since you were one of the top students at the school.

you arrived at the dance with jake, and calling it boring would be an understatement.

you two were sitting by a table, “jake we can leave if you’re not having fun” you said, as you knew your boyfriend wasn’t used to these boring formal events.

“don’t worry baby, i enjoy spending time with you nonetheless. plus, the food is great!” you let out a chuckle at his statement.

“i’ll go get us something to drink, how about that?” you smile at your boyfriend’s idea “alright, don’t take too long”.

he smiled before he got up and headed to get you something to drink. as you were waiting for him, a boy from your biology class approached you, teasing you like he always does.

“where’s your little boyfriend, uh? don’t tell me you came by yourself” he grins and you roll your eyes “getting me a drink, if you really want to know”. the boy looks slightly surprised at your statement “oh really? i bet he’s a punk, you could’ve said yes when i asked you to come with me, at least you would’ve been seen with someone relevant”.

just like clock work, your boyfriend arrived and wrapped an arm around your waist. the guy eyes him up and down “you must be the punk boyfriend”, jake grits his teeth and turns to you “is he bothering you, babe?” “pfft, she’s delighted by my presence”. jake raises an eyebrow and turns his gaze back to the boy “uh, really?”.

you were already preparing yourself as you knew your boyfriend, and you knew things would’ve escalated quickly. by the end of the night, you were sitting in jake’s car, treating the wounds and scars he got on his face after a not-so-friendly conversation with that boy.

“i’m sorry i got carried away”you give him a small smile “it’s alright, i’m glad you punched him. he’s annoying” “i figured you weren’t really delighted to talk to him”, you both let out a chuckle.

“hey, are you up for a frozen yogurt?” he asks, you reply with a huge smile “of course! but… maybe it’s better if you stay in the car and i go get them”. he lets out a chuckle “alright boss��

𝐏. sunghoon

“babe! what’s taking you so long?” you yell from your room, sunghoon is in the bathroom, getting ready for a dinner you insisted on having with your parents to prove them he’s perfectly fine for you. he was nervous, he probably hasn’t felt more nervous in his life, what if they ask him about his life? he can’t tell them how reckless he is, they would’ve never thought he could be perfect for you. he finally sighs before taking a last glance at the mirror “i’m coming!”.

the dinner was silent to say the least, your mother cleared her throat to escape from the awkward moment “so sunghoon, do you have any hobbies?”. sunghoon gulps “uhm… i like working out, you know, to keep myself healthy”, her mother hums, her expression unreadable.

in the meantime, you were crossing your fingers under the table, hoping the dinner would go smoothly and your parents would approve of him, considering how they’ve always considered you as a perfect child in every field.

your father asks the question both of you hoped he’d never ask, “do you study? or work?”. sunghoon starts sweating “i… i don’t work yet, sir. but, i’m looking for a job”. your father slightly scoffs and tears his gaze away from the boy, looking back at his plate and mumbling something under his breath.

the dinner luckily comes to an end, and neither you nor sunghoon were proud of how it went out.

he noticed your disappointed face, and before you two could leave and greet goodbye to your parents, he turned to them one last time “uhm… i’m sorry if i’m not exactly how you hoped i’d be, i know i might be far from the kind of person you wanted your daughter to be with, but i love her. i might not be the best and i might not provide her with everything she needs, but i love her and… and i’m here for her everytime she needs me. i want to support her in everything she does, even though i know i could never be enough for her”. his words made your heart melt, and your parents’ expression slightly shifted.

as you were getting ready to leave, your mother spoke up “we hope to see you again, sunghoon”, his eyes immediately lit up “i hope so too, mrs y/l/n. thank you”. your father gives him a nod of approval before you two left, hand in hand, and extremely proud of how the dinner turned out.

© POISTURA 🐋

[purpledemonlilyposting]

Oh good the Lorch is sending herself asks about me again.

[Lily's Post]

Oh yeah Lily calling marginalized people a "pick me" for not having the same exact opinions as you doesn't make you look bigoted at all.

Unlike you I don't think children's cartoons are activism. And my pointing at that some people like to try to downplay the lesbian themes in Steven Universe, or at least the way lesbians interact with the themes of the show, actually has nothing to do with the show itself.

Hey Lily did you know I also really don't like the word queer being thrown around, refuse to call myself that because it means strange and also dislike "anti-assimilationist" types?

Speaking of which:

[Lily's Post]

Yeah I say that about the kids telling me queer has been "reclaimed" for me. I would think you'd agree, Lily.

Those are two completely different concepts you dumbass. We can have gay content in mainstream media without it being insulting dreck driven by rainbow capitalism.

Lily is the one who basically wants the Hayes Code back. She wants every show and movie to tell her who is good, who is bad, what to think and for the bad guy to get thrown off a cliff at the end.

Lily just because those are the only two pieces of media YOU know I like doesn't mean that's all I like or have ever seen. Have you seen But I'm a Cheerleader? How about Saving Face?

Hey Lily if you'd actually watch my responses to you:

No I sneer at shows with bad depictions of gay characters when they have bad depictions of gay characters. Especially when they break their own spines patting themselves on the back for it.

Are you trying to get ahead of my VOD you falsely struck going back up on Thursday? You know the one where you said an early 2000's flaming queen stereotype in some shitty Alicia Silverstone vehicle was super good "gay rep" because you had some retarded need to paint a narrative that Canadian cartoons "did it first"?

The whole "she's just mad other shows are outpacing things she likes" lol it isn't a competition, dawg. That's you, Lily. That's how you think.

This is how I know its a self ask.

Yeah that's why in my reaction to James Somerton's somehow EVEN WORSE takes on Utena than yours I kept saying things like "Utena isn't really that hard to understand it just tells it's story in a very abstract way".

Also if you think the Sword of Dios is "the sword of patriarchy" you really didn't get it but much like James here I doubt you ever even watched it, Lily. I look forward to your "In a Nutshell" video where you will read out TVTropes with zero context and get everything wrong.

Lily I hadn't watched the show fully in over 15 years when I made my very first video on you. I wasn't even expecting to talk about Utena you just went on a tirade about it in the middle of your 2023 Steven Universe video.

In fact, the reason I even cut that video in the first place is I was so impressed with my own recall of the show. And then it got 5k hits out of nowhere on my then completely unestablished channel because people just hate your takes that much.

And now making fun of you has paid for my new GPU and CPU. No Man's Sky is running great and I'm ready for Dragon Age Veilguard so cheers!

[spatialwave]

(smutty drabble lol. Definitely NSFW)

So obviously Angus doesn't have much experience being a munch but once he learns with you, oh lord get ready.

Forget about wearing skirts in front of him cuz he won't give you a moment's peace. He'll be trying to get it at the movies, the back shelves of the library, hell even when  your parents step out of the room after Sunday dinner. He has a fever and the only known cure is making you cum.

Don't get me wrong he loves fucking you or having you ride him, your tits bouncing in his face. But there's something else that really gets him going, how you gasp his name when he slides his fingers inside or the way you grab his curls when you're sitting on his face

hehehe, thank you for sending. i think we all deserve a little smutty angus tully drabble in our lives!

—

part 1… to be continued?

notes: nsfw. college au. 18+ characters.

getting ready for classes in the morning was one of—if not the—most important tasks of your day. you hadn’t cared an ounce about how other students perceived you, it had nothing to do with having perfectly curled hair or plump, red lips. it revolved around one thing, what you chose to wear and how that affected your boyfriend.

since you had started dating angus tully, going several months strong, the two of you had eagerly explored each other’s bodies. you two followed your hormonal urges and taught each other so many things—what made you whine in pleasure or what had you shaking and crying, begging for more. it was a glorious time of your life, growing used to pulling the tall boy into your dorm room and fucking between classes, his cock buried into the back of your throat or deep inside your pussy.

you spent countless hours every night learning what made angus squirm, how his hips twitched when you’d rub your thumb over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum that leaked out. you hadn’t been prepared for his own enthusiasm, watching anxiously with half-lidded eyes as he kissed down your stomach until he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties aside.

he was slow and meticulous, perhaps a bit unsure, eventually finding your clit and letting his tongue circle the nub slowly—quicker, seeing how that made you react. he licked you up and down slowly, completely tasting and drinking you in, those big brown eyes of his not breaking as he learned every inch of your body.

it took him a couple times of eating you out to be confident in his abilities, successfully making you cum for the first time and watching in awe as your pussy tightened around his fingers as he lapped at your swollen clit. it was addicting, to feel your thighs squeezing around his head, your hands gripping at his curls as your voice cracked when moaning out his name. it was his favourite pastime.

today, you decided to wear a skirt. you knew the implications of your decisions as you hiked it up just an inch or two higher and smoothed down the blouse you tucked into it. you were content, smiling to yourself in the mirror as you wondered where your boyfriend would first find you.

these days were the best because you’d find yourself already so goddamn horny as you walked through campus, anticipating seeing angus. it was late thursday morning, which meant angus had didn’t have class until one o’clock. you ventured to the library, one of the few places you’d usually find him—and when you did, you didn’t bother getting his attention.

he sat at one of the desks in the centre of the library where it held the most traffic, his brows furrowed as he scoured an encyclopedia and scribbled away at a piece of paper. a final essay, no doubt. what a shame that he would soon be forgetting all of what he’d just read.

it was always like a game to you, finding angus in a sea of students and wondering how long it would take for him to spot you. you stood at one of the bookshelves that were near the seating area, right at the end as you pretended to look over the textbooks. medical textbooks, far from your own degree of interest, but your intent was to get up on your tiptoes and reach for something—your skirt riding up.

a quick glance over your shoulder, angus’ face still tilted down and fixated on the words of his text. with furrowed brows and a slight huff, you purposefully knocked one of the textbooks onto the ground. the loud noise startled many students, including your boyfriend.

you made eye contact for a brief moment, only for you to spin around quickly and pick up the book, bending over. your skin felt hot now that you knew his eyes were on you. staring at you with desire, undressing you, all while you’re turned away from him and trying to get your breathing under control.

slowly, you slip the textbook back up into its slot, taking one more shy look over your shoulder. you watched angus as he closed his books, shoving them hastily into his book bag and you took this as a sign to make way for a deserted area. your heart thumped hard in your chest as you absently smoothed down your skirt while you walked, drifting further and further into the depths of the library.

to ease the anticipation and ground yourself in the moment, you lifted a hand so your fingers grazed the spines of each book you passed by. you hadn’t seen any students in this area yet, only feeling the presence of angus turning into the aisle behind you.

“hey,” he called out, keeping his voice quiet, but you could hear the hunger in his voice. you slowed your steps, feeling his hand wrap around your wrist and within a few short moments your back was pressed against the shelf and his lips were against yours.

you moaned easily into his mouth, your lips parting almost immediately as you slid your arms around his neck and tugged on his curls with your hands, “do you like the skirt?” you mumbled messily against his lips, gasping as he pressed his thigh between your legs so you could rub against him to your heart’s desire. you needed the friction—badly.

“what do you think?” he chuckled lowly as his lips pulled away from yours, trailing down your jaw and to your neck. he nipped at the skin and sucked, leaving one or two marks near the collar of your blouse that would leave you wearing turtlenecks for the next few days, “fuck, i need you here,” he breathed, groaning as his hands fell to your hips and helped you roll and grind against his thigh.

“please,” you whimpered quietly, having to reach a hand to cover your mouth as angus kissed down your neck then dropped to his knees in front of you. the sight of this alone made you squirm, feeling the wetness build in your panties—ones you almost didn’t wear today.

angus took a quick look around before he lifted up your skirt, licking his lips as he partially tucked it up into the waistband so the fabric wouldn’t fall in his face. he preferred to be able to look up at you when he ate you out.

“these are my favourite ones,” he murmured in a praise-like tone, his fingers reaching up and tugging aside the black, lacy panties that covered your aching cunt.

his hot breath against you made your jaw go slack and a shiver send up your spine. you’d been in this position countless of times, legs spread and arms clutching to the nearest surfaces to keep you held up. thighs quivering and knees feeling like they could give out any second, with angus between them.

you looked down at him, biting hard on your bottom lip as his tongue circled your clit painstakingly slow—wanting to see you become a puddle because of him.

taking a quick look around and sensing no one else, you allowed yourself to let out the quietest whimper as you rolled your pussy along his mouth. he loved when you did that, fucking yourself on his tongue as he flattened it and tasted your juices, pushing it inside you. one hand lifting your right thigh, pulling it over his left shoulder, the other hand teasing your wet folds.

“angus,” you whimpered as he kept his slow movements, savouring you like a delicious meal as one of his fingers teased your entrance. you both knew you didn’t have the luxury of time, but he couldn’t help but tease you and wait for you to beg, “please.” you breathed, needing more from him. needing to be devoured, “please.”

satisfied, angus pushed two fingers into you, giving you the stretch and fullness that you desired. your head fell back and hit the books behind you, hands gripping tighter on the shelves as his fingers fucked you well and he sucked at your sensitive, swollen clit.

not once did he remove his eyes from you, watching as you had to try keep your voice down, breathing his name out as his fingers curled inside you and pressed against your g-spot, nearly making you scream out his name. he knew every part of you and you fucking loved him for that.

one hand flew down to his wild hair, tugging on his curls as you started to fuck yourself on his fingers, his mouth and chin wet from the way he abused your cunt that was growing tighter and tighter with each thrust of his fingers. he inserted a third, moaning filthily against you when you tugged harder on his hair, closing your eyes shut.

“cum for me,” he told you, pulling his mouth away for a moment so he could command you, “look at me.”

you opened your eyes obediently, looking at him as he smiled up at you. he loved when you looked so disheveled and fucked into euphoria, eyes half-lidded, lips parted and breathing heavy.

he returned his mouth to you, not easing you back into it. his tongue flicked at your clit, sucking on it and lapping at the folds while three of his fingers pummelled deep into your pussy.

that was enough to make your abdomen tighten, the heat inside you snapping when he curled his fingers again and left you shaking. your hips twitched and thighs tensed up as you moaned—quite a bit louder than you should’ve. your orgasm washed over you and left your clit pulsing under the touch of his tongue, wetting his fingers and face as your rocked yourself to completion.

if there was one thing angus loved, it was seeing how hot you looked when you came all over his face.

you felt the smile on his lips as your body slowed and your hushed whimpers came to a standstill, his fingers eventually pulling out of you and removing his mouth. he made sure to slip your panties back into place and untuck your skirt so it covered you up, like nothing ever happened.

through laboured breaths, you watched as angus stood up, smirking as he wiped his mouth and chin, brown eyes watching you recover. all you could do was give him a lazy, tired smile as you leaned all of your weight back onto the shelves.

“are you going to your afternoon class?” you breathed the question out quietly, batting your lashes as you lifted a hand up to his jaw, caressing him.

“fuck no,” he chuckled, wrapping his hand around your wrist and tugging you out of the library and to his dorm.

[chelseypprimrose]

Cheerleading Practice / Negan x Reader / Pre-Apocalypse

Warnings: daddy kink, oral (female receiving), soft!dom Negan, stepdaughter/stepdad relationship, use of one degrading name (slut), shower sex, masturbation(female), facial.

think that’s all of them, let me know if I missed any.

I wrote something similar to this many moons ago but I just can’t get enough of shower sex with Negan lol 🤍

“And five, six, seven, eight!” You called out to the rest of the girls, them following your routine down to a T. With the big game right around the corner, you’d scheduled more practice sessions with everyone, wanting to make sure you nailed this performance as the final was always the most important and had the biggest attendance numbers of all the games during the season. Your squad was made up of 10 girls including yourself, being elected the cheer captain at the start of the year. You were lucky to have such a lovely group of friends that you had made through cheer squad and they always gave you 100%.

You watched as the girls ran through the routine for about the 50th time, giving pointers on some of the moves that were a little harder to master. You gave a demonstration of a harder move that required all the girls to execute, the pyramid. Your friends, Kate and Leigh, had a hold of your legs as your feet were situated on their hands as you raised your arms, beaming smile on your face.

The music rang in your ears as you were thrown in the air being caught by your girls when you gracefully came back down. “Yes! Brilliant girls, you were all amazing! I think we are ready, next session will be on Thursday, please remember to practice at home in the mean time, get home safe!” You told everyone as they all gave each other a round of applause and grabbed their bags to head home. You grabbed your own belongings and headed towards the girls bathroom in the corner of the school hall.

Opening your locker up, you placed your gym bag inside, grabbing your white towel and toiletries bag to head towards the showers, turning the dial on as the water started to heat up. Taking off your cheer uniform, a small red tank top with the schools logo on the front and short matching skirt, you chucked them to the side, now fully naked.

Stepping into the shower, you took your hair out of ponytail you’d put it in before practice, letting your fingers run through to get out any kinks and tangles out.

With the water spraying on you, your mind wandered to your activities with Negan a few short weeks ago. You knew it was wrong, lusting over a man who not only was around 10 years your senior, but also with your mother. You let out a deep sigh, you couldn’t help but want him even more. You couldn’t deny how handsome he was, how charming he was, how he lit your body on fire just being around him. You felt your body getting hot, just replaying the way he’d made you cum all over his fingers, the feeling of nirvana when he kissed your neck, hitting that sweet spot at the base. You closed your eyes, leaning on the back of the wall in the shower, your hands running down your body until you got to your slick heat between your legs, you needed release, your fingers coming down onto your clit, moving in slow circles. Your other hand squeezing your erect nipples as you pictured Negan above you as he had been those weeks ago.

You let out a soft moan, your fingers quickening, wanting to avoid being caught in such an embarrassing predicament.

“Shit doll, is this a post training ritual?” You gasped as you opened your eyes at lightening speed, the very man that had caused you to be doing this, the one you’d been thinking about, right in front of you with a massive grin covering his features. “Negan?! What the fuck, this is the girls bathroom? What if someone saw you come in?” You shouted, trying to push past him to grab your towel that was on the top of the cubical that surrounded the shower.

“Calm down, I made sure that I was extra fucking careful. I had to come find you after watching that performance.” Your eyebrows raised in a confused look. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice me watching you? Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you in that tight little outfit, got me hard as a rock that shit did, doll face.” He pushed back your wet hair, exposing your breasts to him in full view. “Want to give me a little one on one performance right now?” He asked, his hands going from your hair to your breasts, playing with your nipples, your heat getting slicker than it already was, his eyes meeting yours.

You went against every better judgement in your head as you pulled him closer, your hands grabbing the bottom of his tight fit black T-shirt, pulling it over his head in one fluid movement. His hands placed on your neck, capturing your mouth with his as you helped him step out of his gym shorts, hitting the ground with a wet slap.

“God, this is all I’ve been thinking about for days, I need you Negan.” You mumbled against his lips, you couldn’t get enough of him. “I know doll, you haven’t made it easy on me. All I wanted to do at breakfast was pull down your little shorts and take you right there on the table. Shit doll, you are like a drug I just can’t quit.” He replied, picking you up by your thighs and slamming you against the shower wall, his cock now full erect, leaking with pre cum.

He slid down to his knees, you on your tippy toes focusing on not slipping over on the wet floor, the water raining down on you both. Negan’s face between your legs, he gave small kisses to the inside of your thighs, the anticipation building up right in the middle of your core. You whimpered, trying to grind your pussy into his tongue, him resisting by gripping your thighs. “Now, now sweetheart, good things come to good girls who wait.” He let out a small chuckle, turning his focus back to your clit, every stroke with his tongue feeling like heaven.

You pulled him up from his position on the floor, your mouth connecting to his, tasting yourself on his lips. “Fuck, daddy! I need you inside me now. Please.” You moaned out, as he turned you around, the front of your body smashed against the cold wall of the shower. He lined himself up at your hole, his swollen tip teasing you by running across your opening. “You always look so fucking sexy like this doll, begging me to fuck you raw.” He whispered in your ear, finally filling you up with his hard cock. You whimpered at the feeling, pleasure already taking over you before he’d even started moving.

His hips started to rotate, thrusts starting off slowly, stretching you out like no one else had been able to, like maybe no one ever would be able to do. Negan picked up the place, your hands coming out to steady yourself against the wall, his hands grabbing in your hair and yanking it back, so you were looking up to the ceiling. You tried to move one of your hands down to your clit, Negan grabbing your arm and holding it in place behind your back. “No touching yourself doll, I want your pleasure to come only from me.” He growled out, his breathing quickening, little groans and moans leaving his lips as he slammed into you. His other hand leaving your hair to come down hard on your ass, the slapping sound filling the room along with the beautiful sound of your skin slapping together as your bodies came together.

You clenched around his cock inside you, your vision becoming blurred as you let the pleasure build up inside your core. “Daddy I’m so fucking close, please!” You could feel your heart beating faster, a small sheen of sweat coating your forehead, washed away by the water still running down both your bodies. “That’s it my dirty girl, cum around daddy’s cock for me.”

That was the only permission you needed as you let your body go, the waves of pleasure hitting you like a ton of bricks. You let out moans that would make a porn star blush, just feeling euphoric as your orgasm faded just as quickly as it had come. You gave a small push of Negan, his dick leaving you, making you feel empty. You turned to face him, willingly getting on your knees as he started to jerk his cock at a quick pace, the white, hot spurts of cum coating your face with a dozy smile on your face as you licked off the remanence off your lips, the salty taste satisfying you.

“Goddamn, that’s the hottest sight I’ve ever seen. You dirty little slut.”

Negan throwing his head back, closing his eyes, letting his body shake and his hands resting on the sides of your cheeks. Both your breathing came to a slower rate, your hands gripped on the outers of his thighs, standing up back to your feet, Negan looked back at you with a deep smile on his face.

“Shit doll, you! You are going to be a fucking problem for me.” He laughed, pecking you on the side of your face.

[anucalor]

Mutuals pt.2 (Onyankopon x Black! Reader)

haii! im so sorry for taking literally forever to post this. i was so ready to get back into writing, but i started taking my classes full time (which i passed（＾∇＾）) but now i am getting ready for state and with three jobs... its a lot lol. but im ready to try to get back into it!

i also have Kofi if you ever wanted to support in other ways!

anywho, here ya go!

y/n is a little shy. when she moves back home, her friend mika tries to get her out the house. what better way than to meet mutuals?

(w.c. 2.6k)

warnings: none, language (if any)

__________

It’s Thursday. 

Today shouldn’t hold so much weight, but it did. Besides being the beautiful day before a weekend, it’s the day before Ony and I go on our first date.  

I can’t help but think about it every now and then. Receiving his texts throughout the day doesn’t help either. I've realized he’s much more of a subtle flirt than I would have thought, constantly catching me off guard. I smile and shake my head before looking away from my Apple watch to continue charting. 

I check the time and see it’s a little after seven o’clock. After filling in a few people on my floor and making sure everything is logged in, I go to my locker and grab my belongings. I make my way to the elevator and ride down to the first floor. As soon as I step off of the elevator, I get a phone call. 

Ony. 

I bite my lip to prevent myself from smiling too much before answering. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, pretty girl,” I smile a little wider, “how was work?” 

“It was good. Walking to my car, now.” 

We make casual talk as I continue towards my car. Once I’m inside with my doors locked, I start my engine and begin making my way home. After a few minutes, Ony finally brings up the day I’ve been too nervous to ask about. 

“Mmm... you ready for tomorrow, mama?” 

My heart skips. 

“I, uhh, I am.” I try to sound as relaxed as possible. I can only hope he doesn’t hear how hesitant I sound. 

“What’s wrong? You don’t sound so sure.” 

Of course, he heard... 

“I’m sure... I just have a lot on my mind,” I explain softly. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Ony offers. 

I smile, "Just excited for tomorrow, ‘s all.” I can almost hear his smile in his ‘mhm.’ 

I assume that’s a fine enough answer because Ony doesn’t push the topic, opting to change the subject.  

After about a 10-minute drive, I finally made it back home. I grab all of my belongings and make my way towards the door, making sure to lock my car. I unlock the door to my apartment and walk in, making sure to lock it, as well. 

“You inside yet, mama?” I hear Ony’s voice mumble through my phone. 

“Yeah, I’m inside.” I walk to the island in the kitchen and put my bag on the counter before looking over at my buzzing phone.  

Ony is FaceTiming me.  

I answer the call and gently lean my phone against a nearby object on my counter so that he can see me. The call finally connects and I see Ony leaning back in his chair, fingers moving around on his controller as he plays the game. The corners of my lips slightly raise at the sight of him before I look away for a moment to place one hand on the counter and use the other to remove my shoes. 

“You look pretty, (N/N),” I hear him say over the speaker. 

  I couldn’t help but chuckle as I pick up my phone, shoes, and purse and walk to my bedroom. 

“You say that every time we're on the phone,” I mention with a tired yet teasing tone, “but thank you.” 

He ignores my initial statement and smiles, eyes returning to his TV screen, “You’re welcome.” 

~ 

The night goes on as it normally would; I change and sit on the phone with Yanni for a little over an hour before deciding it is time for me to take a shower and go to bed. 

When I wake up the next morning, it takes me a moment to become fully oriented. When I do, I can’t help but think about how the night could go. Ony and I can realize that being friends is what’s best; we could not like one another, or we could continue in pursuit of a relationship. Of course, I’m hoping for the latter, but only time will tell.  

After talking to God about my worries, I feel a little better and finally decide to get up and get ready, leaving my phone on its charger. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I walk into my room and look through my wardrobe for a dress that’s fancy enough for a dinner date but not overly obnoxious. Wanting to remain on the safe side, I decide on a long black, long-sleeved dress with some heels. Feeling content with my decision, I decide to pick up my phone to check any notifications. 

The very first one is from Ony. 

Ony: Good morning pretty girl. Ima be a little busier today so I won’t be able to talk much. Make sure you’re ready by 6. I’ll see you soon 

I smile before responding to his text, feeling slight butterflies in my tummy. I make sure to let him know I appreciate him telling me he’d be busy and that I’ll see him tonight. Checking the time, I decide to go ahead and grab some breakfast, opting for some fruit, feeling too nervous to eat too much. 

I try to talk myself down, trying not to get worked up over some guy.  

‘It’s just another date with another guy... it’s just another date with another guy... but it’s not.’ 

There's something about Onyan that makes me hope that what we have goes further than ‘just another date.’ Although we’ve only really been able to speak over the phone since we met, he seems to be more genuine than any other person who has tried to pursue me. Mikasa’s words continue to play in my mind as well. Knowing from a reliable source that he doesn’t mess around for fun also puts me a little at ease.  

I just need to relax and trust that no matter what happens, everything’s gonna be okay. 

~  

I sit in front of my vanity, applying any finishing touches I think I need. I stand and take in my appearance. A smile makes its way onto my lips as I reach to grab some perfume. I spray to my heart’s content before grabbing my purse and phone and walking to the living room. Again, I look in the large mirror at my reflection, feeling happy with how I look. Minutes pass before I hear a knock on my door. 

My heart drops to my stomach. I take a deep breath before walking to the door, unlocking and opening it. Once it’s open, I see Ony with a bouquet of light pink roses with white lilies. I give an endearing smile before hugging him. 

“Ony, these are beautiful. Thank you.” 

He carefully wraps his arms around me, a smile on his face as he responds, “You’re welcome, (N/N). I’m glad you like them.” 

I lean away before gently taking the bouquet from his grasp, my hand lightly brushing against his. I lead him inside for a moment while I carefully replace my older flowers with the newer ones. Once that’s done, I grab my purse. 

“You ready?” Ony glances up from his phone once he sees that I have my purse. 

I nod and watch as he smiles, taking in my outfit for the night.  

“You look beautiful, (Y/N).” He stands from the barstool he sat in while he waited and makes his way to me with his hand out.  

  I take my lower lip into my mouth to try to prevent me from smiling like an idiot, and it just barely works. My hand interlocks with his as I respond. “Thank you, and you look very handsome.”  

Which is true. Ony has on a solid black shirt with some loose black pants and white forces. He, of course, has his chain and studs on and a black and white bomber jacket. He bites his lip as he looks down at me for a moment.  

“Thank you, mama.”  I smile before looking at the ground. Ony let out a breathy chuckle at the way I couldn’t hold eye contact before leading us to his car. He leads me to the passenger’s side and opens the door for me. I give a soft thank you before sitting down and bringing my legs inside. When I get situated, he closes the door and makes his way to the driver's side before driving off.  

~ 

After 25 minutes, we make it to our restaurant. I know I haven’t been here before, so I don’t know what to expect. Ony parks and makes his way to my side to help me out. I place my hand in his while he leads us inside the restaurant. The host leads us to a secluded booth towards the back of the restaurant. We walk hand in hand until we reach the area, separating only to sit across from one another. Our host hands us our menus and tells us our waitress will be with us soon. 

I gently look through the menu, eyes slowly gazing over what all the restaurant has to offer. Ony, sitting across from me, can’t help but allow his eyes to gaze over me, only giving his menu half the attention since he already knows what he wants. He swiftly thinks of something to talk about and opens his mouth to speak. 

“Don’t hesitate to get anything you want, by the way. ” My eyes flicker up to his at the sound of his voice. I smile softly before briefly returning my eyes back to the menu. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” 

Ony gently licks his lips before closing his menu completely and giving me his undivided attention. 

After that, conversation was nothing short of wonderful - Ony smoothly leading the us from one topic to another. I could feel my attraction for him grow the more he spoke to me in that soft, deep tone that I’ve grown used to. Due to me not being the best conversationalist, I was hesitant for this date, but it comes so naturally with him. As if he knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 

From childhood memories to stories about work to ranting about the group that we’ve grown to love so dearly. It felt as though we had known each other for years.

After ordering, it took us bit before our food was brought out to us. Even then we joke about how it got quiet when we started eating, knowing that the restaurant he picked was a good choice. We each took our time, slowly realizing that we didn’t want the night to end just yet. Even after Ony paid for our meal, we still stayed to talk for about another 30 minutes.  

After laughing at a joke he said, I turned my phone over on the table to check the time and sigh. 

“Ony, we should probably head out. It’s getting late.” 

He picks up his phone and gives a soft smile. 

“Yeah, you right... Alright, let’s go, pretty girl,” he directs softly before standing. 

 I scoot just a little before turning my legs to the outside of the booth where Ony was waiting with his hand outstretched. I gently place my hand in his and stand. 

“You got everything?” I turn to make sure I didn't drop anything before nodding.  

“Mhm, yeah. I’m good.” 

And with that, he leads us towards the exit. Once we get to his car, he opens the door for me before going to his side. I watch as he walks to his side, trying to hide the goofy grin that’s trying to make itself known.  

He finally sits down in the car before turning to look at me, narrowing his eyes slightly. 

“What?” he asks with a small grin. I shake my head before picking up my phone. 

“Nothing.” By the way I bit my lip to keep from smiling, I’m sure he knew it wasn’t ‘nothing,’ but he chose not to push. Opting for “whatever you say, (N/N.)” 

The drive to my house was mostly done so in peaceful silence. Other than the speakers and the occasional quip, we just enjoyed each other’s presence.  

After some time, Ony pulled into my apartment. He turned off his car and made his way to me. 

“Aww, such chivalry. Walking me to my door?” I quip once my hand is in his. 

He immediately smacks his lips before closing the door. “Mmcht, man gon’ on somewhere.” He couldn’t even finish the sentence without smiling, causing me to giggle. 

We make it to my door, and I turn to him with a sigh. 

“Thank you for agreeing to go out with me, (Y/N),” his voice low and clear.  

I lean my shoulder against the door and sleepily look him in his eyes. “Thank you for taking me out. I really had fun.” 

“Enough fun to want to do it again?” he asks, taking a step towards me. 

I look off to the side, hide my smile behind my hand before dropping it. “Yeah, Ony. Enough to want to do it again.” 

He looks down, a smile plastered on his face. 

Only a few moments passed before he looks back at me and takes another step forward. I tilt my head a little to the side before feeling him take my hand in his, standing directly in front of me. 

“I’m gonna be very honest, (Y/N) - I would really like to kiss you right now.” 

For some reason me being a little tired made me a little bold and I ask, “So why haven’t you?”  

A moment after those words left my mouth, Ony’s hand rests on my neck, his thumb, pointer, and ring finger gently grabbing my jaw to tilt my head upwards. He leans down and presses his soft lips onto mine. I don’t hesitate for a moment before meeting him halfway. Ony slides his other hand around my waist, pulling me in to completely close the space between us. My left hand slides to his wrist as he deepens the kiss.  

It felt too soon when he pulled away. I opened my eyes to see him looking intensely at me. I quickly shy away, opting to look at the ground, my hand gently rubbing the remnants of Ony from my lips as I try not to smile too hard. 

“Thank you again, Ony,” I mumble trying to keep my rapid heartbeat under control. 

Ony looked at me with an adorned look in his eyes.  

“You’re welcome, mama. Go get some rest, okay?”  

“You, too... Goodnight, Ony.”  

“Goodnight, (N/N).” 

---

It’s been three months since Ony and I have been dating, and it’s been amazing. He’s been amazing. He continues to show me just how caring and protective he is - genuine and fun. The way he never fails to make me smile (whether it be after a tough day at work, or I’m just feeling a little down) is something I didn’t realize I needed. 

‘I’m so glad I listened to Mika,’ is something I constantly think to myself. 

She was right when she told me that he would show me the type of person he is. 

And I couldn’t be happier. 

Ony and I are a little more comfortable with visiting each other's houses, opting to just stay in and relax most of the time. Each time we do, we learn so much about one another. From likes to dislikes to family and more. The more we spend time together, the more I can’t help but think about what it would be like to actually be in a committed relationship with him.  

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t try to shoo the thought away, but it’s so hard when Ony is... himself. Going above and beyond is not foreign to him. His emotional intelligence is evident through his desire for clear communication and his (surprising) amount of empathy.  

Gosh, he’s so wonderful. 

My thoughts are cut short by a soft *ping!*  I glance at my phone to see Ony’s name pop up. I bite back a smile before opening his message.

Yanni <3 : Be ready by 8. I got a surprise for you 

---

ah, please be nice. im still getting into the swing of things. i really hope you guys enjoyed this. please excuse any mistake!

i love you but Jesus loves you more. <3

@kxllanxtdoor

@prettypink-princesss

@sevikasblackgf

pt.1

[pennyserenade]

YOU CAN(T) ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT

pairing: dieter bravo x you, dieter bravo x ex-actress!reader rating: explicit (oral sex (female receiving), fingering, pinv, unprotected sex, light dirty talk (not degrading), references to previous sexual encounters, mentions of rough sex) tags: angst, hurt/comfort, talk of drugs (weed), drug usage (weed), dieter & reader are a little toxic - i cannot lie, talk of parents  word count: 4.8k+ summary: your relationship with dieter (albeit the very loose definition of the term) has finally landed you in the tabloids. he attempts to make it up to you  a/n: unbeta’d. i don’t know what possess me when i write dieter but its very real and active right now lol. if you want to get updates on whenever i write, follow @belovedinfidels​

The weight of knowledge wears you thin.

Dieter is a tabloid on page six, the embodiment of Hollywood idiocy sided up against a woman far too young for him. Half his age? the byline reads and the bitter laugh you let out earns you a concerned glance from the old lady in front of you. In his madness, he takes you with him, right there in the middle of the grocery store. You pay eight dollars to read the shit all week, like the spurred lover you can’t claim to be.

Your devotion is too incredible, but that’s the way you are. A strange concoction of bitter and sweet. You’ve never forgotten a wrong-doing and you choke what you love with sheer force of your eagerness. Dieter doesn’t know what he wants and yet he commits himself anyway. Which is why, usually, he is good for you. His touches are seldom chaste and his presence is hardly long-term. If you think you love him, he will disappear and you will remember that you don’t–or rather, that you can’t. It’s a convenience until he makes you remember you aren’t the only thing he occupies himself with in his spare time. Then it is a dull ache in your soul and a reminder of everything you don’t have.

In anger, you fuck a stranger on Tuesday. It’s a reckless moment that is the exception, not the rule, but it feels good. Your body isn’t past expiration, you learn, not an ugly thing. It is older than the girl Dieter was with in that paper, sure, but this stranger is so attentive to it. It responds in all the right ways. You are healthy, you are wanted. There is hope for you yet.

On Thursday, half guilty for no good reason, you tell Dieter congratulations on his new television show. You watched it. You liked it. You can’t help but confess it. He calls you after and you don’t answer, still full of some random man’s want. He doesn’t text you back but he hearts the message to show you he’s really seen it.

By Friday night, he’s got you bent over his kitchen table, his body strong, masculine and warm above your own. Whoever that girl was, she isn’t anymore. He doesn’t tell you this, but you know it to be true, for he is Dieter, and Dieter is consistent in his inconsistency.

He fucks into you with ferocity and you know he is trying to amend for some of his sins. The slick, obscene sound of his cock filling you, the way he presses into your shoulder, pinning you forward into the cold, hard table, the soft, guttural moans that he empties into the air—it is a form of devotion, albeit a slightly demented version of it.

It might be a little twisted, what the two of you share. It’s not love and it’s not necessarily friendship, but it is something akin to the ritual of opening one’s palm and sharing blood with another in a fit of childlike devotion. Forever, it yells with violence, but at the end of the day it merely remains a mess only on the surface. You wonder when you will grow out of it and start doing reasonable things.

When he easies out of you, he rewards you for your loyalty and asks if you’d like to watch an old movie – maybe even get high with him. The movie is an old western and the gunslinger dies in the end. The weed makes you tired.

When you wake the next morning, LA sunlight peeking through the blinds, you’re in his bed. His body is turned in the other direction and a lone pillow separates the space between you. You smile at the way this thoughtless man thinks. All your anger dissipates and he is right for you, all over again. —

On Sunday, you’re the tabloid story.

Finally, you’ve been caught in the act. A sneaky camera in the bushes, that lone photographer with a hungry belly and nothing better to do than explode your life. Half of twitter regals you with hate messages and the other half spouts encouragement. People discover you, search the depths of your online existence and find out more than you would like about everything you used to be.

By Monday morning he’s calling you.

“I’m sorry,” comes his hushed, apologetic tone, “I tried to do something about it but you know how those things are.”

You can’t believe this is the first time you’ve ever been caught. Dieter has been your… your whatever since you stretched your acting muscles briefly in 2012. It was that shitty little pilot that didn’t even make it to cable, but you got him, that up and coming actor with an extensive background in theater. You’ve become several different people since then, changing occupations like clothes, and now you sit halfway between writer and unemployed. It’s okay, though. You have money. Once upon a time you were famous too; a child actor who worked too much and didn’t understand what was real and what wasn’t for far too long. Your mother was kind enough not to exhaust your funds. You think instinctively she knew someday you would be this way.

You shrug, coming to. “It’s okay,” you mutter, trying not to think of all the mean things you’ve read. “Hell,” you joke, “Maybe they’ll finally do that revival now. I’m famous again, so why not?”

He laughs too, so easy. “I’m glad you’re taking this okay. I thought you’d never talk to me again.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know but still. It’s shitty and you don’t deserve shitty. One day you’ll wise up to it.”

Betrayal curls up inside of you, makes a newfound home. All the unspoken things between you, and he must bring up this today: the way you do this to yourself. “Not all of us can readily admit to the things we know, can we?” you say evenly. “Listen, Bravo, I’ve got to go respond to some of your fans on twitter now, if you don’t mind. They’re asking for your dick pics.”

You hear his laugh. “Oh, knock yourself out. What’s mine is yours or whatever.”

“I don’t feel similarly, just in case you get the same kind of messages this week.” He doesn’t respond, and you furrow your eyebrows, letting your smile drop. “Dieter?”

“I know what they’re saying—“ he pauses, weighing out his words. “I know they’re not all being kind to you. I’ve seen it, and I’m sorry. Really. If I could do something about it, I would. I’ve been trying,” he repeats, sounding far too exasperated for your liking.

You pick the phone off the counter and turn it off the speaker. No one lives here but you, but some things don’t feel like they should be put out in the open air. “It’s just a photo,” you tell him evenly. “I’ve been in this business longer than you. I know how to handle this.”

“I just don’t want you to think you shouldn’t see me anymore. We can be more careful.”

“Where are you?”

“Wherever you’d like me to be.”

You snort. “God, nowhere near me with a line like that.”

“Oh sorry. I forgot you’re not into that sentimentality bullshit.”

You smile, liking the way his voice has turned from sober to playful in a matter of seconds. “Here I’ve been, thinking you’ve got my number. If you don’t know by now what gets me going—”

“—a good fuck, a single cigarette on a bad day or a drunken night, and most photos of Fiona Apple.”

“Well done, Bravo.”

“Can I come over?”

“Sure, but you better make a couple of wrong left turns on the way here for safe measures. Hate for you to get caught with the same woman twice in one week.”

“Oh ha, ha,” he says deadpan. “Unlock your door. I’m outside already.”

—

The public expects you to break. They always have. As you hand Dieter the badly rolled joint, you think about how pleased they’d be to know this is how you spend your time. The little girl wonder grew up just as fucked as they expected, from pigtails to ill suited relationships and drugs during the week. That’s how they’d see it, anyway. You think it’s a little more nuanced than that, but the public hasn’t ever been particularly good at leaving room for it in their judgments.

Dieter sits on the ground between your thighs, his back to your stomach. Your fingers weave their way through his thick, slightly curly hair, catching every now and then on a stray knot. “Fuck,” he mutters when you land on a clump near his ear. You grin, coltish. “Let me cut it,” you tell him.

“I have a girl,” he says as an answer.

You wrap yourself around him, your face on his back. “Always do,” you tease, humming softly.

He covers your arms, allowing you to envelope him. “I’m getting the vibe that you’ve grown a tad bit possessive of me.” You scoff, loosening your grip. He clinches down, trapping you. “I’m like that with you, too,” he adds.

You hear the confession racket through his body, your ear pressing to some part of his rib, and yet you are the one who feels transparent. “That’s fucked up,” you answer simply, unable to find the right words in this state. He’s always too coherent for you when you smoke weed together. It’s better when you just fuck; it’s a language you communicate best in, even when perfectly sober.

“It is fucked up,” he says, setting the joint down on the ashtray. He blows out a cloud of smoke and runs his thumb affectionately over one of your forearms. “And I think in a fucked up way, you enjoy it. I do. I don’t know why — probably something therapy could sort out.” He laughs, though it sounds a bit hollow. “I mean, it makes me miserable. I know when you’re with someone else. I can just feel it. It’s in the way you text me—or the way you don’t text me, actually. You grow so distant and I think ‘This is it. She’s a smart girl, and you’ve done it this time.’ And then, like with Friday, you come back and you let me have my way with you and it’s awful and it’s nasty and yet…” He clicks his tongue, hesitating. “It’s great. I want you so bad I’m…I don’t know. Overcome with it. All the misery leaves my body and it’s just me and you, and it doesn’t feel nasty or degrading, does it? I don’t mean for it to. I just…It feels like I’m on the edge of the rest of my life when I’m with you like that. I want to tear you apart and I want you to tear me apart and then I want to put us together again, just to show you it can be done. And it’s always done, isn’t it? I leave you feeling whole again, like I’ve just righted this terrible wrong.”

“Dieter,” you manage, voice heavy. “You’re a secret romantic.”

“That’s the most fucked up part about it,” he says poignantly. “I think a lot of screwed up people do a lot of the screwed up shit they do in pursuit of love, and yet they can never quite allow themselves to have it. I’d love to stay put but it makes me itch. I don’t know why.”

“Were you parents fucked up?” You lean back. He lets you this time, but he moves back with you, laying his head on your chest.

“Sure,” he responds. “They fought all the time, but most people did back then. I knew they loved each other, though. They liked to dance and they always used to have these lively conversations about everything. They were serious people, to the point that it was almost unserious.

“My mother, she was educated and my father loved to read and watch movies and talk, and I think she fell in love with him because of it, despite the fact he came from a more…less wealthy background than she did. They begged her, her family, to get a prenup but she never even married him, you know? They didn’t care. They just lived together and they were perfectly content with it.”

You stare up at the ceiling, listening. “Why do you say it like it’s over? What happened?”

“I am?” he asks. “I guess I’m talking in past tense, ‘cause that’s where I existed with them, in the past. I don’t speak to them much anymore, not because I don’t want to, but just because life got busy. They’re still together. Probably fighting or having a conversation about something trivial and unimportant right now.” He smiles, filled with fondness and nostalgia. “What were your parents like?”

“I don’t know. I’ve tried to remember, and I’ve tried to piece it together from what I have, but I can’t. I don’t think I ever could.” You close your eyes. “They love me immensely and they love each other immensely, but things happen. Good and bad things. I’m just their kid.” You shrug. “I feel like a terrible person a lot of the time because of it. Like, what did my mother want from life? Surely it wasn’t me. This. She must’ve wanted something and I’ll never know it.”

“Did she want to be an actress?” he asks curiously.

“No,” you say softly. “She wasn’t the projecting type. I wanted to be an actress. I loved it. She just put me in the theater to keep me busy during the summer and I took off. She encouraged me. She was and is the encouraging type.”

“And your dad?”

“He’s…well he’s there when he’s there and isn’t when he isn’t. I love him and I wonder about him and I feel like I know him more than myself. But I also feel like he’s a perfect stranger.”

“Hm,” Dieter surmises.

“I don’t have daddy issues,” you add. This makes him laugh and you feel it vibrate through you too. It’s so comforting, warm.

“I wouldn’t tell you that,” he says.

“I didn’t even want you to think about it. It's a cheap analysis that men have been pining on women for years. I’d sooner admit to fucking up myself. I mean, I’m sure he didn’t help me any but he didn’t do all the work. I’ve had directors more involved.” You crunch up your nose, remembering. “One of them hated me because of my mom. He had a crush on her and she wouldn’t go with him. I think he’s the reason I have a problem with authority.”

He breathes out through his nose and slaps his hand softly against your thigh, laughing. “For what it’s worth, I do not think you’re terribly fucked up. Just a normal amount, no worse than the best of the most successful. Hell,” he continues, “Maybe even a little better than them.”

You sink back into the sofa, feeling the room move beneath your eyelids. “Dieter, I’m so high,” you whine.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“I can’t talk anymore,” you say. “My brain wants me to say things I shouldn’t.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Like what?”

You groan. “Sentences I’ve already said, just worded differently.” The sincerity of your words makes him laugh — so heartily you squeeze his forearm in appreciation. It touches you everywhere, with your chest against his back like this.

“It’s okay,” he tells you, “Just close your eyes and I’ll keep talking.”

“Mm,” you acknowledge him.

But he doesn’t keep talking. The two of you fall asleep right there in your quiet contentment. You enjoy the peace that comes from soul purging confessions.

—

Tuesday afternoon and he’s still with you. It’s a record, almost. If there hadn’t been that five night stint you had pulled together during one particularly lonely holiday weekend two years ago, this would be the longest you’ve ever seen him. It’s certainly the longest you’ve been together and not had sex.

The pungent, sour-sweet smell of marijuana invades your home, clings to your clothes, and makes you feel like the love-sick, abandoned teenager you were at 17. It’s been a long, long time since then, but there’s a quality about Dieter that puts you back there. Tempting as it is to blame on his perpetual immaturity, you know it’s more to do with your own lack of control. The world spins and you spin with it—a fact that you’ve still yet to gulp down bravely and accept—and Dieter merely reminds you of it.

He thumbs through your record collection while you sip gingerly at a Coke on the couch. Under his breath, he whispers the title of albums that have made up your life, ignorant to just how intimate the act really is. Dieter sees a plethora of intricately organized vinyls and you see half your life; it is a collection made up of poor decisions, lovers’ gifts, and tokens of another life. He plucks out a Rolling Stones album and puts it on the spin table.

Domesticity threatens to choke you for a second before Dieter looks in your direction, sloppy grin on his face. “Let It Bleed,” he says, heading in your direction. “It has You Can’t Always Get What You Want at the end. I think it’s better this way, too, because you have to work for it.”

“What do you mean?”

He takes the Coke out of your hands and steals a sip, voice plugged with passion as he says, “Nowadays you can just listen to a song whenever you want but used to, you had to sit through the whole album. We’re losing the art of the music album because people don’t do that anymore.”

You take your Coke back and shake your head. “That’s not true. After David Bowie died, vinyls became popular again. Albums are very much still in.”

“So maybe they are.” He shrugs. “Regardless, I think they’re better this way. Don’t you?”

“Sometimes. But sometimes I just want to listen to one song.”

He lays his head on the back of the couch, pouting out his bottom lip in consideration. “You’re angry with me,” he surmises after a moment.

You frown. “No.”

“You’re something with me, and it’s certainly not pleased.”

“I was just saying my opinion.”

“You want me to leave?”

“No.”

“I can’t quite reach you in there—“ he points to your head “—so if you want me to do something, or say something, you’ve got to tell me.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you tell him evenly. He narrows his eyes suspiciously. “I don’t,” you repeat, trying to soften out your features. “I’m feeling…I don’t know. Awkward. You don’t stick around this long and I guess it’s making me feel odd. Especially because you haven’t touched me.”

“Ah,” he says, straightening himself. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

“Have I ever denied you?”

“No, but I figured you might like to know I don’t mind seeing you with your clothes on too.” He offers you a kind smile and his fingers reach out and intertwine loosely with a few of yours. This is completely uncharted territory that makes your heart beat ferociously against your chest.

You tug him closer and he comes, his body leaning into yours as your lips meet. The shirt he wears is slightly too big on him, and the fabric brushes against your stomach as you open your legs to make room for him. His fingers press into your hips, positioning you beneath him, and you open your lips slightly, permitting him access.

For lack of a better word, you think: Homecoming. But it isn’t. This isn’t home. This is Dieter Bravo, page six, Mr. Half His Age. You smile against his lips and he pulls back. “What?” he says, smiling too. You feel his breath on your face, warm, and you lean up to press your lips to his again. “Nothing,” you tell him, knowing the joke won’t be funny.

He doesn’t seem to mind, allowing himself to be swayed away by the suggestive rock of your hips. He leverages himself with a hand on the back of the couch, and you pull him down, further and further, latching your legs around his waist. He is warm, burning, and as you deepen the kiss, you can feel the way he grows hard above you.

“Fuck,” he mutters, nodding his head up, disconnecting the two of you. Your lips feel rubbed raw, bruised, but you want more. He grunts softly when you press yourself into his cock and you look at each other for one dizzying second. Then he is kissing the underside of your jaw, his large hand palming your covered breast.

You try desperately to figure out how to shed the layers of clothing that separate you but he is quicker on his feet, pushing the college shirt you wear up above your stomach. He puts it behind your head, pinning your arms up. You watch as he licks down your chest, warm tongue flattening between the valley of your breasts. Then his breath ghosts over the nipples he exposes, his long, thick fingers pulling down the fabric of your bra quickly, desperate, hungry. He takes one in his mouth and you squeal.

Dieter isn’t usually patient. He fucks for leisure but never really revels in it for too long, so it surprises you when he licks  down the rest of your body, swirling his tongue above the place where the band of your sleep shorts begins. You raise your hips for him and he sheds another layer, but again, just barely. Leaving you in your underwear, he worships you on the way back up, kissing your ankle, your calf, the inside of your thigh, even the place where your thigh meets your cunt. His fingers dig, eager to find skin full enough to grip; breasts and thighs, your hips, your ass when you respond to the hot breath that cascades over your cotton covered cunt.

He presses his hot mouth to you, underwear still in the way, and that’s it, you're ablaze and you are starved, crammed full of lust with an appetite that knows no bounds. You want to bare yourself to him—to spread yourself wide right there, and let him into the wetness of your cunt while you whisper dirty things into his ear. His words from yesterday echo in your mind — I want to tear you apart and I want you to tear me apart and then I want to put us together again, just to show you it can be done — and you think God, that’s it. The pulse point, the center, the raw and unbridled truth. You tear one another apart and it is tender, trusting. You’ve been getting him wrong. Over a decade and yet you’ve miscalculated it all.

He slips aside the fabric of your underwear, licks you, finds you wet and wanting. You are dripping. You feel it, know that his eager tongue is only adding to what his mere presence has caused.

That other man, he was lovely, young, flexible, all calloused hands and the taste of reckless mystery you thought you needed, but Dieter is ritual to you, like waves slapping against the rocks or the slow, inevitable spin of the planet around the sun. It happens and yet the sheer ferocity of the change it brings leaves you shocked. He is the taste of half smoked tobacco, the sweetness of a stolen sip of Coke, the warmth of an almost-orgasm rushing to your head.

His lips are coated with your slick, glossy beneath the warm living room light, but he doesn’t seem to care. He bites down on his bottom lip, pressing the pad of his finger to your entrance. Watching with heavy lidded eyes, he finds it in himself to smirk.

“Dieter,” you pant out, not taking your eyes away.

“You want it?” he growls, voice low and lust-filled. “Beg.”

You don’t hesitate. “Please. Fuck Dieter. Please.”

He sinks it in and the sound of your cunt welcoming him makes you both groan. It’s so deliciously obscene, the entirety of it. Your brain sputters, confused and overwrought, and you think: oh, I would never deny you anything. Never. Never.

His finger curls inside of you and his thumb presses down on your clit, focused and determined, the evidence found in the way his forehead crinkles. You note, even in this state, the way the front of his sweatpants tent and a dark spot where he’s leaked forms. He’s not wearing underwear and his finger is in you, above you, on you. You are warm, a beautiful burning thing around his thick finger. He enters another, says, “Fuck, you are so wet. Look at you.”

You shudder beneath him, a wordless moan escaping as you grip his tattooed wrist. The orgasm wracks through you, leaving you panting, pulling at his hand. So fitting - so ironic - that this is where he would mark himself with the symbol for femininity. Mother nature. That hollow triangle, pointed in the direction of you, sister to the darkened one pointing at him on the other forearm. That one means sun, masculine. They are earthly and complex, harmonic and just right.

Dieter puts his fingers flat on your tongue and you suck your own juices off of him, acidic - sour-sweet. He watches for a moment before he replaces them with his own tongue. There’s more of you there. As you work his sweats below his hips, dragging the fabric across his sensitive cock, he groans deep and you drink it up, hungry for more.

When he pushes into you, he does so with such ease, your body allowing him to sink into you like you’re his home, the missing half. It’s too romantic of a notion for you to carry in real life but somehow, like this, it fits. You crave the truth of it. As he rolls his hips into yours, deep as he can, you pull his shirt over his head and cover his lazy, soft lips with your own. You breathe each other in more than you kiss, bottom lips connected, top lips flirting, and tongues meeting each other as he seats himself fully inside of you.

Dieter is thick, makes you feel full in a decidedly feminine way as grinds himself against you. You clench around him, fingers thrusting into the skin of his back. He nuzzles into your neck, presses wet kisses to the sensitive skin.

You bury your hands in his sexed-up hair, let your body wrap entirely around his frame as he finds a rhythm inside of you. A soft flow of up and down, in and out, lacking ferocity but conveying a desperate need. He drags his cock through you, pierces you with it, and you take it gratefully, eyes shut and senses flooded. When nibble on his ear, you taste the metallic of his lone earring and his breath grows more ragged. “You feel so fucking good,” you whimper, voice high, “I feel you—I feel you everywhere. God your cock—you make me so fucking wet.”

You kiss him fully on the mouth again. Everything feels taut, moments away from being over, and you cling to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist. You are one, a complete thing. Then he is pulling you apart before you know it, the twitch of his cock happening precariously inside of you. But he knows himself, well enough to pull out just in time, spilling his warm seed across the canvas of your exposed belly. A wordless sob escapes him and you reach out to hold the forearm he’s moved to the back of the couch again.

This is when it ends, the place where the two of you separate, go your own ways. He will hand you a tissue, wrestle out a pathetic ‘thank you’ or ‘see you later’ and the illusion will be broken–

“Do you mind if I spend another night with you?” he says, chest rising and falling. He sits back on his knees, looking at the milky white substance on you with a mixture of curiosity and fascination. He fingers it and you take it, bringing it to your lips. Dieter offers a lopsided grin, that dimple of his showing again.

“What’s mine is yours or whatever,” you echo his previous words, smiling too.

“That means a lot,” he says.

“More than you know,” you agree, “So don’t fuck it up.”

He presses his lips to your knee, the silence deafening, but you trust him despite it. This is different. He is different. He has to be. Please, you plead silently, running your hands through his hair again, Don’t ruin this for me.

He catches your eyes, smiles softly. “I won’t.”

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Thursday:

"Responsible Adults", the sequel: Jak tries to do a regular Jak Stunt and is shocked that it doesn't go over well

(Roughly a week after this one ends. Long post warning, as most of these are lol)

Night terrors were not an uncommon experience for Jak. They may not have been his nightly companions anymore, but when he did have them, they were intense. He woke up in a corner of his room, wedged beneath the sink. There was a vague sense that he was taking cover from something, or someone.

Blessedly, he remembered no details of the nightmare. But the terror still sent his guts quivering the way they had in the prison. Huddled under the cot both for warmth and silently praying the boots wouldn't stop at his door. That he wouldn't end up Tyber's new punching bag when he got bored of the old man in the cell above Jak's.

Tyber is dead. Errol is dead. Praxis is dead. I watched them die.

Jak repeated the words like a mantra until he could move his limbs again. He crawled out from beneath the sink, but the lingering fear made his room feel claustrophobic. Smaller than it really was.

At least he hadn't woken Daxter this time.

Jak put on his boots, but didn't bother getting fully dressed. He didn't even know what time it was. Why bother if the doctor and the king guy were just going to nag him about being sleep-deprived anyway?

It must have been early morning, before dawn; the moon had vanished and people were outside doing repair work on houses and fog-catchers.

Early morning was the best time to get any outdoor work done in Spargus. A small girl led a flock of caprids out of the stables and towards one of the other districts to graze on the cactus there, and a gang of trainees only a little older than Jak were taking advantage of the temperature to do an endurance run around the city.

Personally, Jak didn't see the good of such things. You learned to be fast enough or smart enough to escape your enemies, or you didn't. He'd learned through life and death experience, not a footrace with no winners.

"Easy with the straps there!" A stocky man backed into Jak, calling up to a team of three people.

"Ope-! Scuse me there, pipsqueak." The Wastelander stepped to the side as if Jak was barely worth noticing.

"Howland, that thing ain't cinched tight enough!"

They seemed to be trying to remove a corroded beam from the supports of one of the multi dwelling houses. It was already leaning at a precarious angle, as big around as a grown man. If that beam came down the wrong way, it would take a lot of the adobe structure -- and probably a lot of people -- with it.

"It's fine, Daru!" Howland complained, "I just cinched it!"

"Well cinch it again! That sucker’s leanin'!"

Jak frowned, but let his curiosity wash away the dregs of the night terrors.

"What's wrong with it?"

The unofficial foreman tugged at a bushy red mustache and shook his head. "Don't rightly know yet. Could just be age. Sand storms and salt air will do a number on this kind of metal after a while."

Jak wondered if that had anything to do with Sandover using wood and stone almost exclusively. He was about to ask why it had been anchored to a mud wall when there was a loud metallic clang. The last bracket holding the beam snapped under the weight, and the straps weren't enough to hold it.

Jak didn't remember moving. But then he was there, with the beam on his shoulders and the foreman on the ground, having narrowly avoided being crushed to death. Cold metal dug into his hands, pressed down against his head, and Jak knew that by rights he should've been dead.

There was a thrill of revulsion in his chest when he reluctantly acknowledged that the only reason he was standing right now was that the dark eco experiments had lengthened his muscle strands to twice the size of a normal hu'men's. It wasn't just in his dark form. That element of...unnatural...was just with him. Every moment.

"Frith! Oh my- HOWLAND! GET DOWN HERE!" Daru roared, "YOU COULDA KILLED SOMEBODY!"

"I got it," Jak said through gritted teeth. "Is there a place to put this thing down?"

"Not yet," Howland admitted as he shimmied down a ladder.

"We were going to cut it into pieces once it was secure, transport it that way to be recycled."

Jak craned his neck, but the motion jarred the beam. Hastily, he adjusted his grip.

"What's- What's around me?"

"Too much," said Daru grimly. "Just- Hold on, kid."

He winced at the boy's flat stare.

"Er...no pun intended. We're gonna, gonna get you out from under there, I promise!"

"Get it cut up first," Jak grunted, "And you won't have to worry about getting me out."

"And what if your hands get sweaty, huh?" Daru demanded, "Fat chance, little man! We're going to find something to hold this up!"

The other two men hurried down from the roof with saws in hand.

Oh gods. Handsaws. This was going to take a while.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Honestly, Damas should have been expecting trouble when he didn't start his day with a free heart attack after seeing eyeshine in the kitchen. The kid was diametrically opposed to the concept of sleep, so he wouldn't have been in bed. If he was off his routine -- and by now Damas had learned to dread something interrupting the kid's self-imposed routine -- then there was probably going to be trouble later.

When he refilled the fuel in the Beacon, fed the birds, and actually had a cup of coffee uninterrupted, he was suspicious.

When the sun rose and there were no echoes of truncated curses in the halls from guards running into Jak, he started to wonder if the kid had decided to work outside. Unusual, but as long as he didn't do anything that would make Dr. Petros yell at them both, more power to him.

But when the talking ottsel showed up in the throne room about an hour after dawn, frantically demanding to know where Jak was, Damas was concerned.

Those two were attached at the hip! Jak wouldn't have gone to look for work without Daxter.

There was a small crowd forming by the time Damas stepped outside. People were shouting encouragements, or conflicting advice about pulleys and snatchblocks. Had something fallen? Damas hadn't heard any impacts. As he began to pick his way through the crowd, the shouts took on new meaning.

"He's slipping! Somebody get under there!"

"How many more hands do you want? There's ten people holding the beam up!"

"Why won't he just let go?!"

"Standing this long, maybe his arms locked up-?"

A beam? People holding a beam-?

An accident. There'd been an accident and night watch hadn't caught it.

Thoughts of crushed citizens and mangled houses circled Damas’s imagination as he pushed through the rest of the crowd, close enough to hear the rasp of handsaws and the buzz of a lone angle grinder.

"Get the cart back in!" Someone yelled, "Next piece is almost off!"

From the looks of things, a crew of four had reduced a two-story high support beam by a third.

Ten Wastelanders were beneath the colossal pole, hands and shoulders braced against the metal as it shrieked and groaned. If even one of them slipped-!

Damas threw down his staff without thinking to join them, racing to catch the end beginning to slide.

"What happened?" he demanded, straining with the others to keep it from crushing the houses and themselves.

"Tie straps broke!" a man three people down called back, "If it weren't for the kid, it woulda come down right through the roofs of a couple houses!"

Kid?

Oh gods don't tell me...

Jak was standing in the very center of the line. His arms trembled, and sweat poured down his face. He didn't seem to hear anything happening around him, too focused on keeping his grip. He was beginning to pale.

"What's he doing here?!"

"Dunno!" A woman to the left answered. "He was already there when me and the girls showed up, but that was two hours ago."

"Hours?!"

Jak had been out here for hours, trapped, and Damas had been none the wiser?

"Why hasn't anyone gotten him out yet?!"

"We tried! The poor kid froze up!"

Damas gritted his teeth and pushed away images of the kid standing alone under that crushing weight for hours until help had woken up.

"Get a truck and winch out of the pit!" He ordered, "Forget damage to the streets, we'll fix it later! I want this thing taken care of now."

It took a full twenty minutes to get the Dozer through the narrow streets of the tower district. By that time, those who had been holding the beam first had cycled out for fresh arms to allow for water and eco. All except Jak. He'd accepted some water that someone poured into his mouth earlier, but still seemed to be unable to let go. He was at the fulcrum point, he insisted, and he wasn't going to let it tip. (Not that he thought he'd actually be able to move at this point.)

Fifteen people attached pulleys and cables to the beam from above, careful not to dislodge the hands of those below. When the cables had all been hooked to the Dozer's winch, the weight began, at last, to lessen.

There was a ragged cheer from the assembled Wastelanders as the end of the beam tipped up and the rescuers eased the other end to the ground. There would be extensive damage to infrastructure to deal with. But nobody had died, and there were no major injuries, and Damas would count that as a victory. Shaking out aching arms, he hurried to the center of the line, where someone was physically holding Jak upright. Damas took hold of the boy's stiff arms carefully.

"It's gone," he said, easing the limbs down, "It's gone, let go, Jak. Come on, you're done."

The kid made a sound, a soft rasping whine that might’ve been words. Then he collapsed.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

When the world drifted back into focus, Jak didn't know where he was. The smell of eco lingered around him, confusing the other scents that could have identified his location. He couldn't move his arms. Why couldn't he move his arms?!

It took a massive effort just to pry his eyelids up. Jak’s breath caught harshly between his teeth as he forced himself onto his side.

Well, that explained the lack of mobility in his arms. He ached like he'd been fighting beyond his limits again. The injection sites would be agitated again, he knew without looking. The pain radiated from his shoulders to his fingertips, skin, muscle, and bone.

The room was a blur. Brown and yellow slowly settled into more colors, ending in something either white or pale blue in front of his nose. The longer he stared at it, the more detail he could see. Pills of thread, clinging to loosely woven fabric. The texture and shape of the warp and weft shifted as he tried to move his hand.

He hissed in pain.

"Well that's what happens when you try to make a career as a load-bearing wall."

Jak tensed. Not alone. Not with Daxter.

Biting down on the pain, he dug his fingers into the pallet beneath him and forced himself upright.

This wasn't the hospital -- small blessings -- but it wasn't his room either. There was a low wooden bedframe on a wall a few feet away, on the other side of some kind of half partition full of plants.

"Where...?"

"Well you're about to think of it as prison," Damas answered from the opposite direction.

He was sitting at a table, hunched over a cup of coffee. The empty pot beside him was a story of its own.

"By the way, you're grounded."

"What?!" Jak sputtered. He started to get up, but fell back onto the pallet with a grunt of pain.

"Like rot!"

Damas glanced back over his shoulder. "Take it up with the doctor. He put you on bedrest, not me. Better yet, blame your own self! You could've let go at any time once the rest of the district turned up to help!"

"The whole...district?"

Jak blinked.

"I don't...remember that..."

Damas sighed and peered into into his mug.

"You've been sleeping most of the day, I'm not surprised. Even with the eco you'll probably be sore for a while."

"How -- ow! -- long was I out there?"

Jak cringed at the look in Damas’s eyes when the man turned around fully.

"Four. Hours. Four hours! Why didn't you let go when others arrived?!"

Was this a trick question? It had to be a trick question.

"Be...cause...I'm not supposed to let other people get hurt?" Jak answered with slow confusion.

Damas stared in complete silence for several seconds. Then,

"You're insane. My foster-son is insane. That's insane! In what world is "throw the youngest under the pillar" a rational solution?!"

"Uh. Haven?" Jak muttered peevishly. He tried to sit up again. "Look, just. Tell me which way my room is and I'll get out of your hair."

Damas pushed his chair back with a scraping sound.

"Mn. No. What part of "bed rest" didn't you hear?"

In brusque motions, he knelt and pulled the blanket back over Jak.

"You are not to do anything even mildly strenuous, or Petros will strangle me. And since I apparently can't trust you not to willingly walk into harm's way unsupervised, you get to camp out in here, and I get to work from home for the next few days to make sure you don't go try to lift a car or something!"

Jak was appalled. "You can't do that!"

Dry as dust, Damas retorted, "First of all, I'm king. Secondly, I'm your legal guardian. Yes I can."

Jak groaned in frustration.

"Where's Daxter?"

"Not grounded."

"Oh come on!"

[mrs-gauche]

Vows & Vengeance Episode 1

ALRIGHT GUYS! As always, I'm super late to the party (although for once, I actually have a good reason, which is that I'm currently kinda in the middle of renovating my place lol), and while I first listened to the episode on Thursday, I just wanted to let it sink in a bit and listen to it again a few times, to really appreciate all the details. :D So here are a trillion few notes on the first episode (spoiler, I loved it! <3333) and I hope this doesn't sound too jumbled, I haven't had a lot of sleep lately. 😂😂💀💀

- Ok, so my first reaction to the ending was basically: "OH MY GOD NOTHING CAN EVER GO RIGHT", "DAMN THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY" and sobbing for Elio, I guess. lol

- My general thoughts: I loved it!! ❤️❤️❤️ I felt like it was gripping and immersive from the beginning, but also genuinely funny and moving at times! I think this first episode did a good job of setting up the plot, the pacing was good and I'm already invested in the new characters! The sound design and voice acting was top notch (albeit maybe a bit over the top and a little cheesy in a couple of scenes lol) and I absolutely LOVED the little nuggets of the Veilguard soundtrack we got throughout (Zimmer and Balfe confirmed!!). There are a few tiny nitpicks, but overall this was fantastic and correct me if I'm wrong, but I've never heard of a game being marketed with an audio drama before? 😂 But looking at Dragon Age's amazing voice cast (and the fact that they all made us develop a voice kink lmao), this makes so much sense and I need like a hundred more of these in the future. lol

Notes on the episode itself:

- The narrator reminds me so much of the ones in these old anime dubs. I was expecting him to be like "LAST TIME ON DRAGONBALL Z". He got lost in the wrong dragon franchise. lol Really cool voice though!

- I LOOVE how it starts off with a minute of just the ambient sounds, chatters and music of the tavern, to really get that immersion, as if you just walked into this place yourself. - That new rendition of "Oh Grey Warden" hit me in the feels ngl.. ;-;

- Nadia just walking it and poisoning Olen to get answers was such a badass introduction to our main character! - I like how the narrative is neatly tied together by making this a retelling of what happened, starting off with loads of questions and by the end we're back in the present again.

- Nadia and Elio are so sweet nawww <3333 - Those sounds of Elio waking Nadia up were straight up ASMR. lol - The tune that's playing in the back here is sooo nice, I wonder if it's part of the new Love theme or something. 🥹❤️

- A sort of forbidden love between Liberati and Altus, oh this better end f*cking well!! 💀💀💀 - Well, that birthday got cancelled REAL fast. lol - I get Nadia's outbreak, but DAMN, she went OFF on him from like 0 to 100 in a heartbeat. lmao I guess something was bottling up for quite some time. - "I'm sorry" Oh no. I notice a certain pattern. *sob* - Again, that track that's playing here, wooow. Goosebumps! It's a super tragic rendition of the main theme. I just know this one's gonna hit so hard whenever that plays in Veilguard. 😭

- I wonder if the docks here are the same we've seen in screenshots. :3 - The soundtrack that's playing here reminds me SO MUCH of Unravel (one of my favorite tracks in recent years! <3333) - I like Nadia and Vik's dynamic. Super authentic. :D

- Nadia's reaction to the gold and then "TRIPLE the bag for delivery??" Yeah, Solas truly is the richest apostate hobo in all of Thedas. Those vaults from Trespasser come in handy now. Good thing the currency of old Elvhenan is apparently still valid. lol - Solas' quest of collecting every ancient powerful artifact continues. - Isn't this like the second time now that Solas indirectly hired someone to break into the Archives? lol They really need to improve that security. (Watch there being a quest in Veilguard where you have to break in there again, but it's impossible due to the amounts of guards now and Solas is like "Yeah, that might be my fault, sorry." lol)

- Super random thought, but judging by the sound design, there's gotta be lots of chickens running around in the streets of Minrathous. lol - NEVE!! <3333 (I'm sorry to anyone who had the wildest conspiracy theories about that teaser image and was expecting someone else. lmao) - So, wait. Does that mean Solas also anticipated Neve to talk to Elio? Or maybe someone else was supposed to do that but Neve got there first? lol

- Nadia and Vik have got to be the noisiest thieves I've ever heard. LMAO HOW did you manage to steal anything until now?? 💀💀💀 - I love how you keep hearing Vik laughing in the distance while distracting the guards. lol

- I wonder if all the turmoil could have been avoided if they just informed Elio about his ancestor's connection to the Eye and the Venatori from the get go. I guess he needed that push of knowing to never be able to return to his life in Tevinter to go along with it, but.. *sigh* poor Elio. - "I trust you." UHGGHH We were on the right track there. 😭😭 - That music AGAIN?? Chilllls!! - Nadia just casually destroying hundreds of years worth of relics. Love it. lol - "FLAME BLAST!!" Oh, this is so anime. lmaoo - Elio going from "WE'RE NOT DOING THIS" to fully enjoying beating up templars and go full criminal in a matter of seconds as soon as he sees his girl in her element. He loves her so much. <33

- "Who's the hat?" lol - That groan after the Dread Wolf name drop? Yeah, that was actually me. lmao - So, I assume this also ties in with Neve already knowing about Solas and his shenanigans in Minrathous when she met Varric in The Missing. Maybe it was this very incident that Neve was talking about? - Noooo, Vik!! 😭😭 (I knew you for like five minutes, but you made in impact. lol) - Sooo... I take it these "assassins" were actually Venatori, since they were the ones going after the Eye in the first place? Or am I stupid now? - "The eye went boom!" Love that delivery. lol - "She's trying to freeze the bay!" Yeah, Neve just DID that. What a boss. - "An elf with a fancy tongue." Oh, I know who THAT is. lmao

- "Me and you." 😭😭😭😭 You two are killing me. - That motif AGAIN. 😭😭😭😭😭 - Oh, for fuck's SAKE. Solas really always has the best flippin timing. They're all sweet and loving and here goes our disaster man "I'm about to ruin this couple's day so good." 💀💀💀 It's her BIRTHDAY, dammit!! - "Ominous looking chap in the road" lmao All I could think of there was THIS (for anyone who gets the reference LMAO)

- How is it that I knew he would appear in this episode from the teaser, and yet I still freaked out so hard. lmaoo After such a long time, it's like any second of new Solas content makes my heart skip a beat (or several). 😭😭 I still can't believe we're getting all this. 🥹

- Look, I may be a Solasmancer and have my biases, but godDAMN.. GDL is so good. HE IS SO GOOD. That Welsh accent. That rolling lilt. A voice like velvet that can be both so smooth and so sharp. There is just something about his performance that has you on the edge of your seat every time he's talking and I looove these little moments when you can so clearly hear that cheeky little smile in his voice. 💜

And it's so nice to hear him talk so calmly (well, at first at least lol) and kinda playful again, opposed to how super anxious he sounds at the beginning of Veilguard. 🥺 It's kinda interesting to compare this performance with DAI now, because now he's fully embracing the Dread Wolf role, and I keep thinking this is him after being isolated for the past ten years. ;-;

- Anway, so Nadia "unknowingly employed by the Dread Wolf" gets her pay from Richie Rich and girl, that would've been the moment to LEAVE. *sob* - "What other choice do we have?" Well, I dunno, RUN?? lmao - *chuckles* "I will demonstrate." Alright, I'm dead. Why did you say it like THAT? T_____T - Hearing Solas talk in elven after so long.. Dead again. Overkill. And yes, he's saying the exact same thing he said to Sera once. No, we don't know what it means. lol Maybe Sera IS actually an ancient magical artifact and he tried to trigger.. something. lol - That whole flippin dialogue. Solas please stop talking like an old witch trying to lure her prey into her lair. 💀 - "I do not play games." *screaming* - Honestly, I was like "NOOO WHY would you GO with himmm" but then I remembered, SHIT I WOULD FOLLOW HIM ANYWHERE. Hell, I *HAVE* followed him anywhere. To Hell and back. 💀💀💀💀💀 - Solas' persuasion game is at maximum at all times.

- "Energy is neither dark nor light." Speak for yourself, Trickster God of In Between. - "It is the Fade. The Veil is fragile here."

- Solas finally gets to answer questions again, but Nadia is rude about it. 😂 Solas slightly approves AND disapproves. lol - "Kindly remove your blade from my neck."

- Those damn Venatori at it AGAIN with their hunt for magical McGuffins. After TN and the Missing, I'm starting to believe that is all Solas did in the last ten years, snatching one deadly toy out of the their hands after another. lmao - "And it is up to me to ensure we arrive at the best possible outcome." Oh, we're so doomed. - "You're sharper than you let on." Here we go again with the backhanded compliments. lol Ohhh, how I missed it.

"Some people confuse a reckoning as an ending." "I seek... regeneration."

Holy shit. The voice. The long pause. The delivery of that last line. Shivers down my spine. It feels eerie. Like he sounds.. desperate.. and maybe a little.. insane? lmao (That's how you start to talk if you've been separated from your soulmate for ten years 💔💔💔)

Ok look, I've seen a TON of people thinking that, because of the way he says this and him using the word "reckoning" ("For a reckoning that will shake the very heavens"), this HAS to be whatever part he took of Mythal speaking now that has taken over his mind or something. But.. I don't think so? lol

I honestly think this is just Solas who, after a thousand years of preparing to "heal" the world again that he broke, even after admitting to himself that this world and its people are in fact real and he has to destroy it, is SO close to getting there now and there's NO ONE who could possibly understand him or how he truly feels or what any of this or the Blights/Titans/spirits/gods/Veil even truly ARE, so no WONDER he sounds a little f*cking unhinged. 💀💀💀

The choice of words is very interesting though.. "Regeneration" is not something he has ever used, BUT it immediately made me think of the line "But still, some hope remains for restoration" in Trespasser. This is what google tells me:

Regeneration represents a form of upgrade from restoration. If restoration means “to make something well again,” regeneration, for some authors, means “to make it better” than a (supposed) origin condition.

Regeneration: "a renewal or restoration of a body, bodily part, or biological system (such as a forest) after injury or as a normal process/ or a spiritual renewal or revival"

You know.. if I read "restoration of a bodily part or biological system", you know what's the first thing that comes to my mind yet AGAIN.

Look, that Titan's body is SPLIT IN HALF and we know that this was kinda the catalyst for everything Solas did back then, so... I'll just leave that here and listen to rest of the episode now. lmaoo

- "And the eye will make us fix that?" "More or less." dksdjjgdkfvlf THE SMILE IN HIS VOICE. What does that even MEAN? What do you MEEEAN, SIR?? I would've RUN out of that cave SO flippin FAST. - "And you're sure this is safe?" "As safe as we make it." *literally two minutes later* "SOLAS, SOMETHING IS WROOONG!!" This is a goddamn comedy show. lmaoo - "Silence, please." lol at him still being polite. - "This is all to be expected!" *five seconds later* "WE MUST FLEE!" I BUST out laughing. WHY are you such a DISASTER. Nothing EVER goes right and yet you always keep trying, you fool, omg!! - I don't think we have ever heard Solas so distressed. lol Like, not even when Wisdom died or at the beginning of Veilguard. - "Take my hand!" I would've never thought to hear THAT Trespasser line repeated under those circumstances, but here we are. lmaooo - We know Solas is a hopeless romantic, so for him to see that sweet couple torn apart because of him, and him still trying to save Nadia, I'm not ok. - Solas being responsible for Elio getting banished to the Fade and him being trapped there not long after.. Do you believe in karma? 😂 - "I'M SORRY!" WHY DOES IT ALWAYS END WITH HIM SAYING THAT. 😭

- So.. uh... what even WAS the plan, exactly? lol Like, what was supposed to happen?? Maybe they should've asked a few more questions after all. 💀 - That following scene with Nadia all alone. I got chills again. That hit different. ;-;

- "Where can I find this wolf??" Oh, she is about to hunt him down. 😶 "...I'll be back." Nadia in full Terminator mode now. 😂 - How are she and Elio connected now though? How can she hear him? 🥺 And I can't help but think about whoever was left in the Fade in DAI again, too. 😭😭😭 - Not the credits making me almost sob AGAIN because of the music. 😭 It is so so good.

So there we are. Everything went wrong, a couple is doomed and Solas is sorry. So, nothing changed. LMAO Everything as usual. 💀💀💀 Solas, I swear, if you don't get these two back together again and pay Lavellan a visit afterwards, my Rook might rethink listening to your advice in Veilguard. lmao

I can't wait for that next episode! This was so much fun and an amazing start, and I'm so excited to hear all the other companions! :D ❤️❤️❤️

[callsign-dexter]

Never Again

Request: hey love I just saw your angst starter sentences list and I don’t know if you are still doing it so if you aren’t just ignore me lol I have a few so you can pick and choose(or if you don’t like any of them you don’t have to do them no pressure)

maybe with Maverick and daughter you could use this one

-i’m never going to let [her/him/them] hurt you again.

Starter- I'm never going to let [her/him/them] hurt you again.

Pairings: Maverick x Daughter!Reader, OC!Nichole Bradshaw x Daughter!Reader, Maverick x OC!Wife!Nichole Bradshaw

Warnings: angst, bullying

Masterlist

miscellaneous angst starters

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this in! The same request from the same requester that had three different starters. The other two fics can be found here: Jake Seresin x Daughter!Reader and Tim Bradford x Daughter!Reader.

A/N 2: Goose is alive in this one.

Your father Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell was married to Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw’s sister, your mother Nichole Bradshaw, they got together shortly after Goose introduced them to each other when he and Carole Bradshaw had dinner and invited both of them over. After 6 months of dating, they got married and then Carole and your mother got pregnant at the same time, Bradley was born a day before you. When you and Bradley were introduced to each other the two of you became friends fast and could go to one another when you needed someone and your parents weren’t available. You both became a brother and sister to each other, despite being cousins. You both were always with each other after school. 

You and your mom have a great relationship. She was so fun and happy to do things with you even if they were ridiculous. She was basically the female version of Goose but then again, they were twins so it made sense. You and your father also have a great relationship. He matched your wild side and the two of you got into a lot of trouble with each other but you both would smile and take the punishment. Both of them were smart and that smartness carried on to you basically you were a perfect mixture of Mitchell and Bradshaw. 

School and you never mixed well, always the new kid and never staying in one place to actually make friends, you had Bradley and that was the only true friend you had. You also didn’t like school because of all the jocks they had and they weren’t nice to anyone and if they were then there was something up and you had to watch your back. You were really smart which drew a lot of attention to you especially from the jocks, they had pressured you into doing their homework just so they could get good grades and so they didn’t get kicked off whatever team they were on. Bradley saw this happening and tried to help but you just pushed him away and he never once walked away from you. The jocks never became violent and you were thankful for that. You had promised Bradley to keep a secret and as much as he didn’t want to he agreed but he alway voiced his dislike for it.

You and Bradley were 16 years old now and just started Junior year. Your fathers had gotten a permanent position at Top Gun and were loving it. This had been the longest you both had been in a school. You both had made some friends but none of them were as close as you and Bradley. The pressure of doing the jocks homework had gotten worse and it was the senior jocks who were the ones doing it. Again they hadn’t gotten violent but you had turned a couple of them down especially when they wanted you to do an essay for them is when they started to become more forceful and you were getting scared and there was only so much that Bradley could do to protect you. When they got forceful you got scared and said you would do it. 

It was a Thursday morning and you were dreading getting up and going to school but knew you had to and plus Bradley was going to be there so that made it all better. Your alarm had gone off and you just laid there thinking of all the possible things that could go wrong. You must’ve laid there for a while because your mother was coming into your room with a frown that said she was concerned. “Are you ok, honey?” She asked stepping you into the room and going to sit on your bed. 

“Yea. Just don’t want to get up.” You told her looking at her with your blue eyes. She smiled and chuckled.

“We all have those days. Your dad made some breakfast and he set some to the side for you.” She said running a hand through your brunette hair, hair that was identical to your dad’s. 

“I’ll be up in a minute.” You told her and she smiled and kissed your head and then got up and headed out of your room as you started your routine of getting ready for the day. You sighed knowing what the day was going to be like and you were not looking forward to it. It didn’t take you long to get ready and then you were heading downstairs into the kitchen where your dad was. He looked up and smiled.

“Good morning, Sunshine.” He said with a radiant smile that never failed to make you smile.

“Morning, Daddy.” You replied back to him and walked over to him and he kissed the side of your head and then he handed you your plate. 

“Hurry up and eat. Your Aunt Carole will be here soon to take you and Bradley to school.” He said and you nodded as you sat down and began eating. You took your time eating and this made your parents worry, you weren’t their peppy little girl. They gave each other a look and had a silent conversation to talk to you later after school. There was a knock on the door and your mom went and opened it to reveal Carole, Bradley and Goose. They greeted each other and then they were walking into the kitchen as you were putting your plate away. You greeted them and when they noticed you weren’t the peppy little girl that they knew they frowned and grew concerned. Bradley gave you a look and you looked back at him and you both had a silent conversation. 

“Alright guys! It’s time to go!” Carole said in her usual happy voice and you grabbed your backpack and kept your eyes down as you headed to the car with Bradley following when you both got outside leaving the adults inside, he stopped you and turned you around to face him. 

“Are you ok?” He asked

“I have a feeling something bad is going to happen.” You said 

“Maybe you need to stay home. Say you’re sick.” He said and you shook your head.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Everything is going to be fine.” You said and he gave you a look that said that he didn’t believe you but didn’t get to say anything else because the adults walked out of the house. Goose and Maverick didn’t have to go in today due to the jets being grounded for routine maintenance. Carole, Bradley, your mom, and you got into Carole’s car and then the three of you were heading to school. When you arrived you, all bid your goodbyes and I love yous and then Bradley and yourself were heading into the school.

You expected to be hit with the football team but for some reason they weren’t around and you sighed in relief. Bradley and you had the same class schedule so it worked out that he was like a bodyguard to you and you both were ok with that and you both had the same friend group.

It was nearing lunch when you saw the team and you tensed up and Bradley saw this “Hey, Mitchell!” They yelled out and you hesitantly turned around to them.

“Brody.” You said with caution. He was the captain of the football team and had money so he thought nothing applied to him.

“I need you to write a paper for me for history.” He said and you looked at Bradley and he gave you a look that said ‘don’t let him do this to you’ and for once you listened.

“No.” You said and that surprised Brody but he quickly replaced it with anger.

“What do you mean no?” He asked stepping up to you but you held your ground.

“I mean no. I’m done doing your homework and essays for you. You can do them yourself.” You said no sure where this confidence came from but liking and Bradley was smiling.

“You don’t tell me no. You’re doing my essay.” He said pushing you into Bradley. He helped you steady yourself.

“She said no, Brody. She’s done being your puppet.” Bradley said, standing up for you.

“That’s not a decision for you to make. You need to tell your boyfriend to stay out of this.” Brody said, turning his attention to Bradley.

“He’s right. I’m done. Also, he is my cousin.” You told him and that made him turn to you quickly and you thought he was going to break his neck with how fast he turned. He grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you into the lockers making you hit your head and see stars. Bradley was quick to rush to your aid.

“Like I said you don’t get to tell me no. I told you that there would be consequences if you told me or anyone else on the team no.” He said, you somehow found our voice.

“You’ve been bullying me into doing yours and the football team’s homework and I’m done.” You said and a flash of anger flashed across his face and he went to punch you but Bradley punched first and then it turned into a fist fight. It didn’t last long until a teacher came out and Brody came out with more injury than Bradley.

“What is going on?” Mr. Anders asked as he walked up to the action with Mrs. Slick.

“Nothing. He started it.” Brody said and Mr. Anders looked over at Bradley and raised an eyebrow.

“Is this true?” He asked and Bradley shook his head.

“No, Brody started it. He pushed Y/N into me first and then into the lockers and made her hit her head.” Bradley said and they looked over at you and you had visibly paled.

“Brody, principal's office.” Mr. Anders said.

“What?! Mr-” He started 

“Now.” Mr. Anders said and he huffed and sulked off and then Bradley and Mr. Anders turned to you.

“Are you ok?” He asked but you didn’t say anything. Your ears were ringing and there was wetness on the back of your head. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head and you began to collapse as Bradley caught you and brought you down. “Woah.” Mr. Anders said and followed you down. A crowd was forming “Everyone get back to class now.” He said and everyone scurried away while another teacher Mrs. Slick came out on the phone with 911. The ambulance came and loaded you up and headed off to the hospital. They weren’t going to let Bradley ride with you but he was your cousin after all. 

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Maverick and Goose were sitting in the Mitchell household working on some projects that your mom wanted done when Maverick’s phone began to ring. He pulled it out and saw that it was your school calling and he frowned which caught Goose’s attention “Everything ok?” He asked and Maverick shrugged.

“The kid’s school is calling.” He said as he answered it.

“Hello?” He asked

“Admiral Mitchell, this is Miramar High School. I’m calling in regards to your daughter Y/N Mitchell.” Mrs. Fender said

“Is everything ok?” He asked

“I wish I was calling under better circumstances. Your daughter has hit her head on the lockers from being pushed. When asked if she was ok, she collapsed into Mr. Bradshaw’s arms. She is on her way to the hospital now.” She said and Maverick paled and thought he was going to collapse and Goose grew concerned.

“Thank you for calling. I’ll let her mother know and we’ll head there now.” He said 

“Very well. Mr. Anders will be with her and Bradley.” She said “Goodbye.” She said.

“Goodbye.” Maverick said and they hung up.

“Everything ok, Mav?” Goose asked 

“No, Y/N got hurt and is at the hospital with Bradley.” He said

“Is she ok?” Goose asked concerned for his niece.

“I don’t know but we gotta go. I’ll call Nichole on the way there.” Maverick said as they headed to the door and Goose grabbed the keys to The Bronco. Carole and Nichole were out having a girl’s day since they’re work had to be closed for a gas leak. They got into The Bronco and Maverick called his wife.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You had woken up confused and to the smell of medical cleaning supplies. At first you just looked around and then you saw your mom and dad there. “Mom? Dad?” You asked and they smiled sadly at you and got up from their chairs. They looked like they had been crying.

“Oh, Honey.” Your mom said and put a hand on your cheek and you leaned into the comforting touch.

“Bradley?” You asked and they smiled.

“Want them in here?” They asked and you slightly nodded but winced in pain.

“It’s ok baby.” Maverick said taking over when your mom left the room. A few minutes passed and The Bradshaw family was coming into your room. They carefully hugged you and you looked at Bradley who had his head down and you knew what he had done but you were ok with it you wanted them to know. “What happened?” Your dad asked and you sighed knowing they wanted to hear it from you.

“Brody, the captain of the football team, was bullying me into doing his homework and essays and I had enough and told him no and he got violent.” You said looking at them.

“How long has this been going on?” Carole asked

“Since we started high school.” You said “Bradley told me to stop but I didn’t listen.” You added tears escaping your eyes. Nobody said anything, they were mad but not at you. 

“What grade is he in?” Goose asked and before you could answer Bradley did.

“He’s a senior and 18.” Bradley said and the look on your parent’s faces morphed into anger.

“He’s 18, practically an adult and he physically hurt a 16-year-old, a minor, might I add. He can get in trouble for this.” Your mom said.

“We’re pressing charges.” You dad added and you nodded in agreement “I’m never going to let him hurt you again.”

“I want him to get in trouble and charges pressed. I don’t want anyone else to end up like me.” You said and they nodded. 

“We’ll do so when you get out of here.” Goose said and you shook your head.

“I want it done now.” You said looking at your mom and dad with your dad’s color eyes.

“Ok, baby. We’ll get an officer in here now.” Maverick said that is exactly what they did. 

A few minutes later a doctor and a police officer came in and everything was taken down and recorded and then they were leaving saying that everything looked good and promising. They wanted to keep you overnight to make sure nothing was damaged. Bradley, Goose, and Carole left saying that they would be back after work and school the next day.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

True to their word they were at the hospital the next day after work and school. Bradley was smiling and you raised an eyebrow. Brody wasn’t there today and then your phone began to get notifications and you looked at it and smiled and your parents raised an eyebrow and you turned the phone to them as the first line of an article showed “Brody Links 18, son of wealthy multi business owner Marcus Links, arrested for harming and putting a minor 16 in the hospital.” and they smiled and Maverick walked over to you and hugged you.

“See, I said I'm never going to let him hurt you again.” You dad said and you smiled as tears of relief fell.

“Thank you, dad. I love you.” You said and hugged him back.

“I love you too.” He said kissing the top of your head as you buried your face into his chest. Everything was going to be ok now.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@talesofreading

@callsign-revenge

[captn-trex]

technical devotion, part fifteen: promises made

a/n: I think I'm gonna start aiming to get a chapter of this out every thursday roughly. I have everything planned out apart from how it's gonna end lmao, but rest assured, it shall be happy. I'm looking forward to you guys seeing what's in store! also, I did not realise how slow burn this would be lol, we're still a way off from first kiss territory, buuuuut... this chapter is one I've been waiting to write since the beginning ! hope you enjoy it (sorry for the long a/n)

warnings: injury & pain (not in any great detail) insecure echo :/

last chapter | next chapter | master list | join the taglist

In the weeks following Kan and Echo rekindling their friendship, Kan slowly began to get a grasp on her new role in the ranks, which was mainly because Echo was now there to support her. He was there to remind her not to let her worries overtake her, and a hand on her arm, or an encouraging smile, usually did the trick. Echo's presence calmed her in an instant, and the task of leading didn't seem as daunting with him around. Not that it was always so simple.

Kan stepped out of the command room, rubbing a hand over her face and sighing deeply. Echo was quick to notice as he exited behind her.

“Have you been sleeping?” He asked, stopping her in the corridor.

“I've been sleeping fine yeah, its just… My mind. My mind is tired” She admitted.

“What's wrong?” Echo frowned.

Kan exhaled a long breath, “I really don't know if I'm meant to lead people. It's really outside of my comfort zone even now, and it's just got my brain going into overdrive. I can't stop thinking about… What if something really bad happened under my watch? Or because of a decision I made? I don't think I could cope Echo”

Echo's expression softened the more Kan spoke, a silent admiration of her showing on his features. He placed his hands on her shoulders, something he noted that helped to ground her and gain her focus entirely.

“M'aira, you're doing a great job, and you'll continue to. Rex wouldn't choose you for this if he didn't think you could do it or handle it, and if it means anything to you, I believe in you too”

Kan let a shy smile lift the edges of her lips, “Thanks, it means a lot yeah”

Echo returned her smile, “Now, come with me, I have a small surprise for you”

“You do?” Kan looked up at him with slightly widened eyes.

“It's nothing special” He said as he took his hands away from her shoulders and began walking towards her office, “I just figured that since you seem to insist on sleeping in your office every night…”

Echo opened the door, showing his handiwork to Kan.

“…That having your bunk in here might be the way to go. That way I can stop worrying about you as well”

Kan grinned up at the clone, wrapping her arms around his waist and giving him a quick tight squeeze, “Thank you Echo, you're too kind to me”

Echo shook his head with a smile, resisting the urge to pull Kan back towards him, “Not really, if I was kind I would have tidied up in here too”

Kan looked around her office, still messy as ever. It seemed that Echo had just pushed the worst of the mess aside to make room for the bed.

“It's fine, I don't mind it like this anyway, the mess doesn't really bother me” She shrugged.

Echo huffed a small laugh, “I don't think I could cope if my office was this messy”

Kan hummed thoughtfully, her eyes darting across the mess.

“When do you leave for your mission?” Kan asked, looking back up into his honey eyes.

“We leave early tomorrow morning” Echo gave a sad smile.

“So I won't see you before you go?” Kan questioned, and Echo shook his head. Kan chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, “I wish I was going with you”

Echo could feel the words tugging at his heart, “I don't”

Kan gave him a stern look, her eyebrows drawn together.

He chuckled, “You can't get hurt if you don't go at all”

“You think I can't handle myself?” Kan asked, minorly offended but mostly confused.

“Oh I know you can, I‘m just happier knowing you're safe” Echo confessed, and he could feel his cheeks heating at the slightly vulnerable admission.

Kan just huffed, “Well it doesn't get much more safe than sitting around in the base all day”

“You'll get your chance to go into the field again, don't worry” He assured, a hand on her shoulder.

Kan smiled. Her eyes didn't meet his for a few seconds, but when they did he could tell there was a certain sadness laced within the gentle expression.

“Be safe, yeah?” She urged quietly.

Echo smiled softly, the edges of his eyes crinkling, “I will”

Without warning and much thought of her own, Kan wrapped her arms around Echo again, more tenderly this time. Echo could feel his heart beating out of his chest as he gently wrapped her in his own arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

In the past weeks, Kan had become more physically comfortable around Echo, and though he enjoyed it thoroughly, it was still always a little startling. Especially with a touch so gentle and tender as the hug she was currently giving him, it was hard to not be overwhelmed.

“Don't do anything stupid. Don't get yourself hurt” Kan spoke into his chest, and he was certain she could hear how furiously his heart was beating.

“I won't” He replied, hugging her tighter into his body to reassure her, “I promise”

Kan nodded along, listening intently as Rex detailed the upcoming mission. She was a little disappointed to not seem to be going on this mission, as they were going to be infiltrating the base that she had discovered through listening in on the Empire's long range comms. It was a dangerous job, they knew nothing about what this prison would be like once they were in, but that was the reason they were set on going. There were clones being imprisoned there, and they wanted to know why.

“Now, while all that is going on, me and Kan will be on a separate directive, looking to garner any information about this prison” Rex continued, and Kan's ears perked up, her posture straightening at the mention of her.

Rex hadn't discussed this with her before, but she was more than happy to do it, particularly with him.

“That's the plan as of now, but we'll have to wait until more men are back here to enact it” Rex moved away from the central holotable and crossed his arms, “I suggest getting some good rest tonight, they could be back at any time and I want to get this done as soon as possible”

Rex dismissed the clones, and Kan was immediately at his side.

“Rex, about the-”

“Sorry to spring that on you, I was hoping to speak with you earlier but your door was locked” Rex explained.

“Ah right, yeah, I was… tidying”

“Tidying?” Rex raised an eyebrow, a small smirk quirking his lips.

“Yeah, anyway, I wanted to ask you-”

Kan didn't get the chance to finish her question as the door to the command centre zipped open and her focus was drawn towards it. She did a double take, the sight she took in not registering in her mind at first.

It was Echo. He was back from his mission, but something was wrong. His form was alarmingly straight and rigid, his forearm resting against the door frame and holding him up. Each small movement sent a twitch to his face, his teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut, nostrils flared.

Kan's heart leapt to her throat, and she rushed over to him.

“What happened?” She spoke hurriedly, paying no mind to the other clones around them who watched on.

Echo exhaled shakily, “Got… shot, in the back”

Kan tried so desperately to remain calm despite the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She turned to look at Rex over her shoulder, hoping for some kind of support.

“We haven’t got a proper medic” He said, clearly shaken by his brother's condition.

That snapped Kan into gear, “I've got medical training, I've got it”

Kan took Echo's arm and threw it over her shoulder, pulling a pained groan from him. She quickly led him to her office, which was only just down the hall, and smacked the door panel in a frantic hurry. She set him down on the bed gently and instantly went about rooting around in the draws of her desk looking for her medkit. When she had found it, she looked up at Echo, who was trying to take off his armour, and failing as his wound cried out in pain.

“Stop, let me do it” Kan spoke instantly, standing in front of him and shooing his hands away.

Her fingers got working on the clasps, starting with his arms and working her way up, exactly as Echo did it.

“How do you know how to do this?” He asked, fighting through his pain.

“I've watched you do it enough times” Kan replied, a small shrug in her shoulders as she focused. Echo would've smirked but his chest plate dug into his wound as she took it off. “Sorry” She whispered.

“S'fine” Echo managed to hiss out as Kan climbed over the bed to sit behind him cross-legged. She tried to survey the damage, to see how bad it really was, but to no avail.

“Could you take this off?” Kan asked, her fingers playing with the hem of his blacks.

If it was possible, Echo’s body seized up even more. He nervously fidgeted his own fingers along the hem, letting out an exasperated huff. His blaster wound was sending small shocks through his body with every movement, but he was single-mindedly focused on not letting Kan take off his top.

Kan noted his discomfort immediately, and let out a sigh.

“Echo” She spoke so gently from behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder, “It's okay, please let me help you”

Echo relented with a slump of his shoulders, “Okay”

Kan helped to peel off the tight base layer, several pained noises escaping the man she was helping. As she saw the wound, she couldn't help but suck a sharp breath between her teeth. Three blaster bolts scorched into his lower back, creating a cluster of open wounds.

Echo assumed her reaction was to seeing the cybernetic attachments he had in his back. His breath was shaky as he tried to calm himself, but it only became more unstable as Kan traced around the outside of his wound.

“I told you to be safe Echo” She whispered, “You promised not to get hurt”

She sounded so solemn, and Echo couldn't find it in himself to say anything. Thankfully, she then got to work on the wound, but it wasn't without discomfort. She first administered a pain relief injection, and his breath caught in his throat as she cupped the side of his neck to do so. She warned him every time she was going to touch him, the antiseptic wipe against his wound making him flinch and grunt more than he wished, stinging even with the pain relief. She placed a bacta patch over the area when she had cleaned it appropriately, and it stung for just a second before the bacta started working it's magic.

“Does that feel better?” She asked quietly, and Echo just nodded

Kan ran her fingers along the edge of the metal apparatus that climbed up his back, causing Echo to shudder under her touch. The feeling of it was so intimate, yet so tainted by sadness and clouded by self-concious thoughts that Echo couldn't focus on the warmth of Kan's fingers against his bare back.

“You're lucky, they almost hit your spine” She spoke, sounding resoundingly serious.

Echo could only hang his head. He felt so ashamed. He had worked hard to get past this mindset, but with the woman he desired like no other sitting behind him and inspecting the damage done to his body, he couldn't help it.

Kan could understand a little of what Echo was thinking, she just hoped she was wrong. She slid from behind him and knelt in front of him on the floor, but he wouldn't look at her.

“Echo” She said as gently as she could, placing a hand on his knee, “I'm glad you're okay”

Echo looked up to her, and the emotions she saw swimming in his eyes were almost enough to bring her to tears.

“What can I say to make you feel better?” She asked in a whisper, for fear that speaking louder would cause him to break.

“There's nothing to say” He said firmly, looking down to his lap.

Kan couldn't help but reach out. She placed a hand on his face, lightly rubbing her thumb along his cheekbone.

“Please talk to me” She pleaded.

After a moment of painful silence, Echo sighed, “I don't show people my cybernetics for a reason”

“Echo it's okay-”

“But it's not” He frowned, his eyes snapping to Kan’s once more. “It's not okay. The attachments, they- they're not exactly desirable, and no one wants someone with all… this. I-” He puffed out a sad breath, the next admission feeling daunting, “It makes me feel like I'm half a man”

Kan's heart broke.

“That's not true” She said sternly, both hands now on his cheeks, forcing him to pay attention to her words, “You're every bit of a man as any other, and even more than that, you're a good man Echo. Anyone would be lucky to have you”

“Anyone?” Echo asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Kan wasn't really sure what he was asking. Was he asking because he just wanted confirmation that she was telling the truth? Or was it something more? She weighed her options of what to say, biting into her bottom lip with her eyebrows pinched. She couldn't just admit to her affections for him right now if that wasn't what he was after.

Instead, she took her hands away from his face, sitting back of her heels with a shy look on her face, “Yes, anyone”

Kan stood up and grabbed the medkit, taking it back over to the desk and placing it in the draw.

“You stay here tonight, I'll take your bunk” She said, turning around to meet Echo's intense gaze once more.

“No, I'm fine, I'll-” He was interrupted by his own sharp intake of breath as he tried to stand.

Kan smiled at him knowingly and walked over, placing her hands on his shoulder to keep him rooted to the bed.

“Please, stay here” She insisted.

She found herself lost in Echo's eyes. So many emotions were flitting through them and she couldn't keep track. She absent-mindedly began rubbing her thumb along his bare collarbone, before she realised what she was doing and pulled away.

“I'll see you tomorrow” She nodded to him, leaving quickly and shutting the door behind her.

Echo let out a breath that he didn't realise he was holding and laid back on the bed. His mind was full to the brim with every thought he’d had about Kan since meeting her.

Her distinct scent enveloped him as he crawled into her bunk. He inhaled deeply, letting it take him over and overpower him, washing away his troubled thoughts, and eventually letting it lull him into a peaceful sleep.

[starsoftheeye]

TMagP 17 Reaction

Pre-Episode

I've discovered that acting disinterested literally makes the episodes show up earlier on my youtube account, so I've gotta play mindgames on this app every thursday to get to see the episodes less than half an hour after they release lol

Pre-Statement

Ah Celia is back on her bullshit

Wait did she just nearly get ran over???

I feel bad for laughing at her but her only reaction being "Oh for gods sake" is super funny to me how long has she been doing this

oh hi sam

oh god she missed their date :[

something tells me a habit is going to be made of this, especially considering she literally cannot help it

"it really wasn't" yeah no wonder you nearly became roadkill

theyre so cute i love them

ooh shes mad

Statement

"catalyst" huh, have we heard that before or is this the first time

pfft not the interviewer getting read to shreds

wild theory before i keep going, based on the title "saved copy" and the "identity crisis", "existential horror", "temporal distortion" and "captivity" tags, im going to assume that this person going to therapys having the details of their life copied somewhere for something to replicate and replace them, and the doctors gonna attempt to get rid of them but obviously it didnt work. either that or the guy outside the office does something

as someone whos never done meditation before this is not encouraging me to start

ah office spaces, the worst of cosmic horror

wait did they get teleported or something

tbf if my taxi driver started driving completely the wrong way i'd assume the worst and start "exchanging words" too

oh my god was i right

wait is this copy based on their therapy, a version of themselves with no problems whatsoever? and is this gonna be a "there can only be one" type scenario?

oh wait no i forgot siblings exist

wait nvm them having the same name is weird

"dates and times" so this is where the temporal distortion comes in ig

yup

i'm sticking with the "rich-darrien is a copy trying to assimilate into og-darriens life" theory for now

yeah because thats not normal darrien, even if youre related no-one looks completely identical apart from glasses, teeth colour and a lack of a beer-gut

do they both think the other is the copy, or does sharron just not know?

oh god what is he hiding

does he beat up a real person every time hes upset

of course it was his father that makes sense

oh my god the sound design

oh my god he's the one who assimilated thats so cool

good for sharron i hope shes doing okay

off-topic but i love the way the voices get more real as the statement goes on then go back to their more robotic tone at the end

Post-Statement

as a celia fan i am eating well this week jeez

celia my dear what do you mean by that "not exactly the same though, it is?" girlie what have you done what are you hidinggg

alice!

who was playing the music in the background there?

as someones whos computing department in school consists of keyboard with never-before-discovered types of bacteria wedged between the keys thats valid

alice dyer i love you so much

ah the dyhard is dyharding

ah yes the mutual "i'm traumatised and i know you are too but i don't like you enough to give details on mine or ask about yours so we'll just sit and suffer in silence til the ice somehow breaks" dynamic

also colin mention woohoo i love the scottish man

the computer start up noise and power down noise at the beginning and end of every episode kind of makes me think that someone is watching all of this (maybe us, or more likely someone in-universe)

anyway that was fun, i'm doing this late but this was a nice way to spend my first proper off-day since finishing all my exams

[drowninginblox]

Thoughts on Fit's Last QSMP stream- spoilers ahead

It is Thursday, May 23rd, 2024. 2:36pm EST when writing. And I am disappointed in myself. Not for anything Fit, the server, the admins, or anyone besides me has done.

I hoped. And once again, I am expectedly crushed. I had a feeling that Fit would take himself out of the equation in the way he did. There would be no Pac Camio (ghost or living), no sight of Ramon either. Just business, as Fit is one to do.

But god did I hope for something out of a fanfiction. The biggest contenders were Pac's ghost or a hallucination speaking to Fit at the bottom of that damn hole to prep and escort him to the afterlife where everyone was waiting for them. OR the idea that Fit, after returning to the island, would kill himself in a similar but unique way to Pac and Mike. Regardless, neither happened. But I am very happy in what I witnessed.

I won't get into too much there will be vod watchers who accidentally stumble into Tumblr- to which I tell you, GO WATCH THE DAMN VOD.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed the Fit abused in-game mechanics to justify his survival down there. However, it calls into question whether or not he took up cannibalism again (writers you know what to do) in which I digress cus that a conversation within itself. I also appreciated that Fit made the effort to check up on more people other than just Pac and Ramon. It sounds like "Yeah, ofc." but let us remember that most of us (and I could be wrong) are shippers, and our yearning for Hideduo kind of blindsided the other relationships q!fit has. (This applies to me to just so yall know)

What fit did to justify or at least give credence to Ramon's character was sweet and I really hope we get some Ramon-centric fics about the possibility of his survival in an otherwise abandoned world, similar to his father. I may do that on my own but definitely not today. Mr. Fit Em See fucking wrecked me and I really could use some fluff right now. Whether it be at my own hand or someone else's, I could not care less.

Hueveitos, we are all going through it. And I bet on all the money I have that Twitter is going insane, Tumblr is dying, and Fit is either taking a well-deserved break or laughing his ass off at us. Probably both knowing that fucker. The brilliant bitch he is. I apologize for not liveblogging, I was enamored with what was going on. But we all were lol

Anyway, I'm probably gonna listen to the music Fit included in the finale and daydream of better days for q!Fit. Ones where, maybe, in another life, something happened on Madagascar's end where the tech didn't work and Fit was suspended in the QSMP for the rest of his natural life. Maybe Ramon is fine enough and just wondering, looking for Fit in an otherwise empty world. Hell, in another life, Pac waited longer for his American boyfriend. Maybe everyone did. Maybe the kids didn't get sick, maybe they all died a week or so after they were found. Who knows!

But with what we were given, and who we had to spend that time with, I know that I'll always look back on the Qsmp in a similar vein to another sorry sap of a sever I know. The memories will persist, the story will continue to be told. The world will keep spinning, and I will keep writing.

Thank you to everyone who was involved in the experience whether it be seen or unseen admin, CC's who somehow found this post on a hellcite, any and all fandom goers that I have stumbled upon in search of solace from the canon, and my girl over discord! I DON'T KNOW YOU AT ALL BUT YOU'VE HELPED ME GET THROUGH THE LAST LEG OF THIS JOURNEY!!

Here's to tomorrow everyone, regardless of what happens! I love this community and I sure as shit hope you guys don't become strangers!

[ursifors]

btw this is gonna be so fucking rambley probably just ignore me tbh but i did wanna say sorry that i like never post about jeremy anymore LOL

like DONT GET IT TWISTED i still love jeremy and i do lurk in streams every week its just that i'm very invested in helping tyler at his streams and being a mod and helping him grow his community and stuff as well as hyping up other posties from rt, and also jeremy just. usually plays games i dont give a fuck about LOL

like i love him sm dont get me wrong but if i watch one more second of among us gameplay i think i will actually die in real life so when i open twitch and he's playing that or any other social deception game i immediately close twitch :////

and also tyler streams on tuesdays and thursdays in the evenings which is. when jeremy streams stuff like phasmo that i actually would watch but cant bc i am. modding for tyler.

so i just dont rly talk about jeremy or ever draw him anymore bc of that BUT IF EEL BAD BC A LOT OF U FOLLOWED ME BC IM THE JEREMY GUY BUT NOW... IM THE TYLER GUY SORRY

[colealexart]

how did you first get into cr?

i can't remember if i've told this story on here before but here we go: i was really into the last of us, especially part 2. it came out just a couple weeks after my grandad died, so i was using that as a way to process my grief. probably not the best idea given the games themes, but hey.

shannon woodward (who plays dina) started streaming on twitch. i regularly watched her and became an active member of her community (and eventually became a mod) and the people in there would talk about this d&d show with ashley johnson and laura bailey that was on every thursday. i tried watching for ashley and laura, but i just wasn't into it. i couldn't really focus on 4-5 hours of people just sitting around a table playing dungeons and dragons (a game i'd never played before and didn't know the rules for.) the thought of having to watch hundreds of hours to catch up was daunting, even though i really really wanted to. i think i made it to episode 3 of campaign 2 and stopped.

a few friends who i gamed with (who are now my best friends) would talk about it constantly, and they eventually convinced me to try again. they told me about the animated recaps and said that the story really kicks off in the 20s so i was like fuck it. i had nothing else to do because we were in the middle of a pandemic, i was still grieving, and i had been looking for a show to put on in the background while i tried to work on my art. (tried being the key word here. i really was ready to give up on my art before i found critical role.)

anyway yeah, i became obsessed. i binged the entirety of campaign 2 in a few months. not only did i find joy in watching them play, but it pulled me out of my grief induced art block and helped me actually like what i was creating again.

i didn't get to watch the finale live, but i did watch it when i'd fully caught up and cried all the way through. i didn't realize just how attached i was to the characters until i didn't have them anymore. in a way, it helped me process my grief for my grandad. if i could say goodbye to them, i could say goodbye to him.

when campaign 3 started, i watched the premiere live but i said that there was no way i could stay up every week to watch it, since it airs at 3am here. i was very wrong lol. getting up at 3am on fridays is my favourite part of the week. and i'm very thankful for finding critical role when i did :)

[muldermuse]

A Hard Day: Fox Mulder X Reader

Today I had a hard day and I just want a fictional FBI agent to take care of me lol

A/N: References to poor mental health, depression, anxiety and crying.

If u have any prompts or Fox Mulder ideas pls send them my way honeyss

You had lost track of how long you had been sitting in the darkness. You had not taken your work clothes off and you were sitting upright staring at a wall. Your shirt was itchy and your shoes were tight but you had no energy to change into your pyjamas. Today was awful, that many things had gone wrong that it was bordering on slightly funny that it had been such a catastrophe. However, rather than laughing at the past ten hours, you felt completely numb and unable to process your emotions. You did not want to take care of yourself, that would be an effort and take energy that you currently did not possess.

The room was still, occasionally a flicker of light would scatter across the wall from the window overlooking the street. You considered staying like this all night, hoping that maybe your exhaustion would overcome your emotions and you’d pass out asleep without needing to move. You had struggled with your mental health for a while and you were largely in control of it, however, slip ups were natural and days like today reminded you of how far you’d come. Despite the sadness that weighed down your limbs, you appreciated that days like this were few and far between. That was largely due to medication, routine and your boyfriend, Fox Mulder.

Which reminded you, it was a Thursday and you had arranged for Fox to stay over. You had a Thursday routine of having a pre weekend bottle of beer, making a sandwich and eating chips in front of the TV until you both had to drag the other to bed. You’d chat idly about the week, a blanket covering you on your sofa as you watched the Golden Girls with his arm protectively over your shoulder. You loved it and whilst you saw him most weekends; there was something special about your Thursday tradition. It wouldn’t be fair on him to stay tonight, you didn’t want to cancel but you’d accepted your fate of sitting in your dark room and trying to keep your thoughts from getting more negative.

No answer, straight to his voicemail. “Hi Fox, I’m really sorry but can we reschedule? I think I’m coming down with something and don’t want you to get ill. I’ll speak to you tomorrow, love you.” Your voice was one note, you didn’t sound ill and he could read you like a book. Even over a voicemail, he’d be able to pick up on your tone and you hoped he wouldn’t question it. You decided to lie down on the sofa and wait for it to become a reasonable time to lie in bed.

***

The knock at the door scared the life out of you, you felt your anxiety rise in your throat as you tried to stop your hands trembling from the fright. You peered through the peephole even though you knew who it was; there stood Fox, his tie loose around his neck and clutching a brown grocery store bag. You exhaled deeply, willing your hands to stop shaking as you smiled before opening the door. He could see right through you but maybe it would be worth a shot.

“Hi,” your voice faltered, you needed to try and sound better than you did on the phone. “Didn’t you get my voicemail? I think I’m getting ill so it’s probably best you don’t stay tonight”. Your eyes trailed away from him as you finished your sentence; you couldn’t look at him as you lied. You felt your breathing start to become laboured as the hot prick of tears filled your eye line. You made your hands into fists; desperately trying to stop the tears from streaming down your face.

“No I got it,” his hand reached out to gently rub your shoulder but you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “Even if you’re ill, I just thought you could use some company. You sounded upset on the phone and I was worried”. Your kind boyfriend, your sweet and loving partner who knew you better than anyone else ever had. Wordlessly, you stepped aside and let him enter your apartment. He pressed a kiss to your cheek as he flicked the light on and walked past you. You let out a shuddered breath and followed him to the kitchen counter. With every step you took; you felt a sob begin to form at the top of your throat.

“So firstly, I think it’s rude of you to get ill on a Thursday,” he smirked as he began to open the grocery bag he had placed on the counter. “We both agree that it is the best day of the week and I refuse to let this illness take this away from us. I got that soup you like from the store on Woodland, you know the one where we saw those really suspiciously large footprints in the produce aisle? I’m still trying to convince Scully that it’s an X File” His face lit up as he laughed, god, you loved him. You so desperately wanted to laugh with him but you knew as soon as you opened your mouth your body would betray you and tears would run down your face. You smiled back and tried to bury down the flicker of concern you saw in his eyes.

“I thought I could warm the soup up and whilst you got changed or had a hot shower? We could just sit on the sofa and watch Golden Girls together or Cops, I mean whatever is on.” Before you could interrupt, he continued as he made his way over to you with his arms outstretched as he brought you against him for a hug. "Then, for later- I mean if you’re feeling well enough, I bought those sour candies you like? They only had the huge bags so I suppose if you’re feeling sick that it’s probably the worst thing I could have brought you but still I th-“. As he held you tightly in his arms, you felt the tears start to come and you choked out a huge sob. He just held you tighter as you cried, his hands ran through your hair as you wept and wept and wept until you felt you had no liquid left to leave your tear ducts. You had no idea how long he’d been holding you, his shirt was wet with tears and your throat felt raw from your sobbing.

“Did that help?” you stayed in his arms, trying to steady your breathing as you nodded. “Okay good, go for a shower, I’ll lie some clothes out on the bed and get the soup ready for you.” You didn’t speak, you just got on your tip toes and pressed a kiss to his soft lips.

***

The shower helped more than you cared to admit. The hot water beating down on your skin seemed to strip away layers of your day and you felt yourself begin to breathe easier as your chest felt the most open it had all day. You hadn’t realised how restricted your chest had been until now, you didn’t notice how tight your jaw had become and how tense your neck had been. You let out a shuddering breath as you turned off the water and stepped out and wrapped your soft towels around your body.

Your bedroom was tidier than you left it. Your work clothes were hung in your wardrobe, a clean linen candle was lit and your childhood teddy sat up in the centre of the bed, your reading glasses placed on his head and an open book in his hands. You genuinely smiled for what felt like the first time all night. Fox had laid out your pyjama bottoms and one of his old basketball shirts on your bed for you to change into.

The scattered fairy lights illuminated your living room with a warm glow. The smell of tomato soup and Fox’s aftershave lingered in the air as you took the bowl from the side and joined your boyfriend on the sofa. He’d gotten changed into some loose shorts and a t shirt from Old Navy that had been stretched beyond all recognition. His glasses were steamy from the soup he held in one hand as he used the other to pat the spot next to him on the sofa. He smiled at you as you sat down, he looked relieved and clearly noticed how much better you felt.

You both ate your soup in silence as you watched Golden Girls, when you finished you laid your head on his chest as he absentmindedly traced shapes on your back. “Thank y-“ you started as you lifted your head to face him, he kissed you quick before you could finish your sentence. “You don’t need to thank me, we’re a team you know that? Seeing you smile is worth it”.