#you really don’t have to say anything to make it shittier

[joker-daughter]

timing is such a funny thing sometimes

and alcoholism is a bitch

good night

[dykedvonte]

I keep seeing fanarts of ppl's OC's being on the ship, so do you think that if there was 6st crewmember (specifically, another woman) Anya would've been more safe? Like, someone to actually call Jimmy's begaviour out, someone Anya might wanna trust? Is there a possibility something might have changed (even if a little) or it would not have mattered at all?

-💀

I feel like the game would make it part of the commentary on where she would believe and help Anya but still be sort of dismissive? Like the whole “don’t waste time crying and being scared keep going and move on, don’t let him win”. It’s supposed to be positive and reinforcing but sometimes it does more damage in those times of mourning and grief, it feels patronizing, like you don’t understand what you’re going through but they do. Even if they did call out his behavior it’s still on Curly to act and while another voice would help, it’s still 4 against 2 on guys that don’t get it until they have to vs women who always have to.

I don’t mind mouthwashing OCs but I do get a bit bored as they tend to be borderline saviors or like Jimmy aligned. They are either more complicit than Curly or just Jimmy haters for no reason, outside of what the creators know about what he did to Anya. I am never irked by OCs but in a story like mouthwashing you really need to think about what your character adds to the commentary, especially if they are there during the crash. It’s nice to have like characters on Anya’s side more whole heartedly and interesting to see characters who placate Jimmy but sometimes it’s one note.

I can’t and don’t want to police peoples OCs it’s never my intention when I comment on trends I notice, but I do feel like the way people make their OCs interact with these two characters and especially Curly, really show a grave misunderstanding of the narrative and these characters as people vs roles in the story. Still, I know people just make up characters for fun and that’s fine. Great even, but I guys I’m focusing more on OCs that are supposed to have those serious dynamics. My favs tend to be pretty-Tulpar or post-Tulpar au OCs.

The inevitably of the crash is on Jimmy. He did that not because he wasn’t stopped but because all his means to kill Anya were taken. The gun, the axe. Even if Curly did strip him of his co-pilot privileges and try to keep him contained there’s only so many people. An extra body helps but they have jobs they have to do, he’s the only one steering the whole ship and Jimmy would likely have an out: food, bathroom, etc. He’s not new and if he couldn’t crash the ship directly, who’s to say he wouldn’t sabotage something else? A clunker like the Tulpar wouldn’t take much. An extra person helps but it’s just another thing that prolongs what a person like Jimmy is willing to do to shirk responsibility.

It’s more than just needing someone to stand up to him and think that’s what is missing when it comes to inserting a character into the mouthwashing setting.

[acrobattack]

i don’t know if this is a hot take or not but the rr/b skew more neutral than evil to me

[jarofstyles]

The Favor 7

Hehe… hello. This is scandalous but I think you guys are gonna loooove it 🤭🤭🤭

The Favor masterlist

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WC- 6.8k

Warnings- slight angst, cheating (But is it bc they technically have permission?), Possessive H, exhibitionism, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play, daddy kink (finally), degradation, etc

Y/N was slightly nervous for tonight. 

Not only was she going to Harry’s house to spend the weekend there, but they were going out together to meet their friends. 

After following Harry’s advice, she had tried to talk to Danny and had talked about how she felt like he didn’t really care to ask about her. He’d immediately become defensive, blowing it off as ‘you could have talked about your week and I would have listened! Why do I have to ask? We’ve been in a relationship for a while now, it should just be common practice!” But ultimately agreed to trying harder. He’d suggested they all go with the rest of the group to the pub crawl, something Y/N didn’t want to do but felt obligated to since she’d brought up him not trying. Harry hadn’t seemed bothered by the suggestion, merely agreeing and asking what time they were going to get there.

She had no clue what the dynamic between the three of them was going to be, but even more so because she felt the want to stick around Harry. He was her comfort zone right now, and maybe going out with the group was a bit of a mistake but she had to try. Didn’t she? 

Sitting in the front seat of Harry’s car, she felt his hand tapping on the steering wheel. He had warmly received her, kissing her gently in the driveway before letting her get ready in his bathroom. But something was still a little off. She could feel it. She had to admit that she hadn’t expected him to be so okay with spending some of their allotted time together out and about, let alone with Danny, but she had figured he was just trying to stick to the agreement. Their Friday night hadn’t been appointed to anything specific. 

Harry wasn’t much looking forward to this considering there was the tiniest bit of him that was bitter. Maybe a little more than a tiny bit, but he was trying to deny that. Seeing Danny tonight was something he didn’t want to do, maybe ever again. Perhaps it was dramatic, but seeing how he was with Y/N had royally pissed him off. The more he thought about it, the shittier this arrangement was but unfortunately he was a bit too selfish to let go of Y/N. He liked her a little too much. But that was all he’d let himself think about it. 

The last thing he wanted to do was make Y/N feel bad for this considering he had been the one to tell her to try and talk this out. He’d had to say it, had to encourage her to mend relationships because she wasn’t truly his and he cared deeply about her happiness, but the selfish part of him had hoped she’d see through the feeble attempts to cover his own ass tonight. 

One of the hardest things to think of though, was the fact that he had to keep his hands to himself tonight. He couldn’t swing his arm around her or adjust her hair, couldn’t rest his hand on hers. Couldn’t drag her face over to kiss him like they’d done in the bathroom stall, blurring some lines. He had to try to put boundaries in place for his own heart, but it was so difficult when he could see the nerves on her face. Looking at him as they drove like she could sense his weird mood. 

“Are you drinking tonight?” He asked her softly, trying to diffuse some of the tension. 

“No. I don’t really love drinking at these things.” She admitted. “I’m a clingy and horny drunk anyways. I’d probably crawl all over you.” Her nose scrunched at the thought, but it wasn’t a bad thing to him. Harry wouldn’t mind that at all, tending to her needy drunken whims- but again, she couldn’t considering her actual boyfriend would be there. 

“Ah.” He nodded, flexing his hands on the wheel. “Well I’m not either. So we can pop in and stay for as long as you want before we head out.” He had no desire to go out with this group of people tonight. Really, he’d much rather introduce her to his other group of friends, the people he was far closer to, but that was crossing another boundary. Wasn’t it?

It wasn’t meant to be this complicated, lines weren’t supposed to be blurred but he found his hand twitching behind her back as she walked inside of the pub, restraining himself from placing the grip there to guide her. 

Apparently no one found it weird they’d arrived together, greeting the both of them with tipsy smiles. 

Jesus. Already drunk? It was barely past 9. 

It was another reason Harry sometimes skipped out on things with them. They weren’t bad people, no, but he wasn’t someone who was actively looking to get drunk all the time. He found as time went on that he preferred to spend nights in quieter settings if it wasn’t at the other club. One they’d be visiting tomorrow. 

That reminder improved his mood a bit as he let Y/N slide in to the booth next to Danny before taking up her other side. Her smile wasn’t the same one he usually got as Danny smeared a kiss to her cheek, pulling her in for a side hug that made Harry’s jaw click as he pulled away. It wasn’t fun to watch. It again raised the question in his brain of how the fuck he was okay with all of this? Knowing Y/N would leave with him tonight, sleep in his bed…. Harry would have been seething. 

Yeah, he’d shared a few times in scenes but it wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed with his own submissives. In his relationships he could be considered an exhibitionist, sure, but it was strictly look but don’t touch. Something in his head was miswired, feeling irritated that the other man rested his arm behind her. Realistically he knew he didn’t have any right to feel that way but it didn’t stop his chest from burning as he picked up his seltzer water and took a sip.

“Are you drunk?” Y/N’s sweet voice broke through his internal struggle, making his eyes cut to them as her smile had turned to a frown. 

“God, don’t nag me about it already.” The man groaned dramatically. “Yes, I’ve had a few. Were at a pub, babe. Don’t be a buzzkill, yeah? Thought you’d be loosened up by now.” 

Harry stiffened, turning his head to look at the man. It was a little pathetic in his opinion, being so undone on a Friday night so early on. With his hair a mess and sweat on him from the drinks, face flushed… it wasn’t a good look. What he didn’t like even more though was the way he’d spoken to her. 

“Watch it, mate.” Harry said lowly, not wanting to start a scene. Maybe Danny realized his error or didn’t want to get into it with Harry, seeing as his face paled a little before he raised his hand as if to motion he’ll back off before turning to converse with someone else. 

Under the table he felt something warm nudge his hand, gathering his attention to see her smallest finger rub slightly over his in appreciation before she dropped it. 

Y/N hadn’t expected to have Danny back off when Harry said it. Perhaps he was actually intimidated by him? He usually didn’t let things go easily and went on tipsy rants, usually about how women were ‘no fun’… but then again, she recalled Harry not being around for many of those.  She hadn’t expected Harry to defend her either, which… fuck, made her insides flutter and squish as she felt his thigh against her own. She could feel him before she heard him, lips close to her ear as he quickly checked in on her. 

“You alright?” He mumbled, trying not to get too close but failing a little bit. It was hard for her to complain when in reality she felt like she wanted to lean into him more than she wanted to cuddle her own boyfriend. 

“Mhm. Just don’t go anywhere.” 

Like he’d want to. It was hard to act normal in this circumstance, watching as she tried half heartedly to talk to Danny while he gave semi answers before turning back to talk sports stats. He stayed quiet, observing their dynamic under more of a microscope than he ever had before. 

He could see that she was trying, even if it was just a little. Could see her face brighten as she tapped him with something else she thought of saying only for it to fall and that glitter leave her eye as he only gave little nods or ‘mhm’s or shakes of the head. His eyes went from the tv to the other guys, patting her shoulder every once in a while. 

Had it always been like this? Truth be told, Harry hadn’t watched them much before. There was no reason to pay attention when Danny wasn’t talking to him and Y/N was off limits. He’d been attracted to her so he kept his distance, not wanting to interfere with a relationship.

Oh, the tables had fucking turned. 

Regardless, he didn’t like it. He could feel her start to rescind into herself as she fiddled with her bracelets, pulling out her phone to check the screen for messages, nibbling on her lip as she tried to think of other things to say- and he couldn’t stand it. 

It wasn’t a smart idea, no, but ever so slowly he slipped his hand over her thigh. Hidden by the table, he found her hot, bare skin under his fingertips as he slipped it under the hem of her skirt, curling over it and letting her feel him squeeze. Part of him relaxed a little bit at the ability to touch her, his hand hidden from view under the fabric, but he felt her stiffen up a bit as he did so. So under his breath, he muttered to her. “Relax.” 

Y/N did. Swallowing thickly, she placed her hands on the table and left her phone open as she felt fingertips graze her inner thigh, Harry’s eyes seemingly on the television. He didn’t look suspicious at all, but she knew she had to train her face or people would know. 

She’d been itching for his touch, but now that she had it she realized it was going to be a challenge to not react to him. Her body had already adjusted to craving him considering he’d shown her pleasure and safety in a way no one else had before. 

Harry kept quiet as he inched his hand up further, feeling the heat of her cunt radiating through her panties and close to his hand. Her breathing was a bit heavier, he could tell from the sounds of it and the glimpses he took at her. Only when his smallest finger brushed over the humid fabric did she make a noise, only being smart enough to disguise it with a cough. 

“Y’alright, babe?” Danny of course chose now to take interest in her, because of course. Y/N felt a bit fuzzy as she nodded, doing nothing to stop Harry as he applied more pressure to her cunt. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Throat’s a bit dry.” She cleared her throat, trying to sound normal while the man next to her rubbed his knuckle over her slit. He didn’t make any move to acknowledge it besides a smirk, his eyes glued to the game. 

“Oh, are you gonna get another drink?” He asked, perking up. “Can you get me one? I’ll pay you back later, babe.” He smiled lazily. 

“In- In a minute. I just have to answer an email.” She swallowed again, spreading her legs a bit more to let Harry touch. She didn’t want it to stop. As completely fucked up as it was, she felt her stomach burning for more. Danny had no idea Harry’s fingers were teasing her cunt, getting her more wet than he ever could. Letting her head hang down as she looked at the repeated flashing of the next letters to type, she thanked the stars her face was slightly masked by her hair. The dominant had slipped his fingers under the gusset of her panties, his middle digit entering her. Shallow thrusts of it kept it from being noticeable, but she shakily typed on her phone, whatever the fuck it was saying, as she felt him touch her. 

Harry knew it was fucked too, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying this. Touching her in front of the man who clearly didn’t deserve her glittering eyes or her pouty lips, he’d take over then. He’d give her a good night she’d been hoping for. Hopefully she’d begin to see how much better she deserved, that he wasn’t going to change- but until she had that realization, he was going to help her get to it. 

Sliding his hand out of her panties he knew she was pouting about it, bringing his middle to his lips to suck it clean before standing up. “M’going to the toilets.” He whispered, knowing she’d follow. Of course she would.

She was his good fucking girl.

—-

Y/N took a moment to breathe before standing on shaky legs, excusing herself for the same reason and to get their ‘drinks’- though she had an idea that he’d never get it. Wobbly knees straightened as she made her way into the dimly lit hall in the back of the place, eyes only just adjusting as she saw him leaned up at the darkest end of the hallway. Back against the wall and arms crossed over his chest, he looked a bit intimidating in the best way. 

In any other scenario she’d run the other way. This was the picture of danger, walking in a dark hallway towards a tall, broad man with his arms flexed as he had them folded, but she’d never felt more inclined to take a walk on the wild side. He’d just fingered her under the table next to her boyfriend and she’d let him. Hell, she’d enjoyed it. It was wrong but it felt so fucking good that she couldn’t do anything but let him. 

Over the last few weeks her body and mind had become accustomed to him and wanting to listen. It felt natural, spreading her legs for him and letting him touch what he deemed as his. He’d proven it last weekend when she’d left his house with his cum tricking into her panties as a parting gift. Her body had never reacted to her boyfriend like this, never felt that prickle of anticipation or rush in her throat at what he’d do next. It was safe to say that Danny could never give it to her the way Harry could, and she’d probably spiral about how she was pretty sure she couldn’t go without this later, but right now she was going to reap the benefits of being a good girl and listening to him. 

She didn’t say a word, standing in front of him for only a second before his hand caught her hair and wrenched her head back, a growl leaving his throat as he caught her in a brutal kiss. Her toes curled in her shoes as she gasped against his mouth, fingers gripping his shirt as she caught herself on him. There was no hesitation, opening her mouth for him and whimpering at the taste of his tongue, melting into his body while his other hand grabbed a thick handful of her ass. Pressed up against her stomach, there was no question about if he was hard or not. 

He was aching. Arching into him, Y/N didn’t care if she ran out of air so long as he was touching her. “My good girl.” He whispered darkly, pulling off to give her a second. “Didn’t know y’had it in you. Did you like that?” His eyes bore into her own, her already wet cunt clenching around nothing. He owned her attention. 

“Uh huh.” She breathed, eyes rounded and bleary from the shock of the kiss, her body buzzing at his touch. It felt unreal, naughty, wrong but so fucking right. She hadn’t cared about Danny in that moment with his finger buried inside of her. All the girl cared about was Harry, how he touched her, if she was being good for him, if she was pleasing him. “Sir!” She quickly added on, realizing her mistake. 

“There we go. See… I dunno how you manage to be such a good girl when you’re a filthy fuckin’ slut.” His voice was low as he said the words with a smile. “Liked me fingering your cunt next to that pathetic excuse of a boyfriend, hm? Got all slippery and wet for me, let me touch you while you think no one’s looking…” A deep groan escaped his throat as he looked down at her face. Hazy eyes and eager mouth, slightly opened and wet from their kissing- he could help but think that in this moment, she was overwhelmingly his. 

He tested the waters at the table, giving her every chance to stop it if she wanted, but the minx wanted it. Encouraged it, even, with spreading those soft thighs open a little more for his hand to slip against her weeping cunt. His cock had filled right then, knowing that she was choosing him over Danny at that moment. It was fucked up, sure, but he was fingering his girl right under his nose and she had followed him back here for more. He had no idea that Harry was so possessive of her, so enamored that it had scared him a bit. 

Y/N only whined at his words, leaning up on her toes and buttoning their lips together once again. Harry’s overworking brain slowed as soon as he felt her wrap her arms around his shoulders, leaning up on her toes to get to him. It was his final straw. 

He released her hair and took liberty to cup her ass under the skirt, lifting her up and spinning them around so his body shielded her own. Pressing her against the wall, he returned her kisses, moaning under his breath as her fingers tangled in his hair. In reality, he knew he should scold her for doing it without asking, without having instruction, but the bleeding bit of his heart wanted her to feel comfortable enough to just touch him. So, he didn’t do anything but press his covered cock against her cunt, rutting against her slowly to give them both some relief. 

“I…” Y/N attempted to speak but her brain felt like it was in a cloud. Floating up higher away as his large hands held and squeezed her ass, the thin lace of her panties doing little to nothing to dull the feeling of his dick rubbing against her and nudging her swollen clit. “Fuck me. Fuck me here, H. Please.” Of course, she forgot the honorific but in this moment he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything other than giving her what she wanted. 

Keeping her pressed against the wall he used one hand to undo his belt, frantic to open his pants for her. He knew later he’d probably scold himself for being so impulsive, for abandoning his plans to use his first load in a proper scene but wasn’t this exploring too? Playing into her exhibitionism, a bit of degrading, he was helping her. Right? 

Finally, with his shaky hands making it a bit clumsier than normal, he got himself out of his pants. “You sure? You really want it?” Double checking in this instance to give her a minute to back out, she nodded hard. 

“Yes. Please- I’m not drunk, I didn’t drink, I just want… Please fuck me, I’ll make it up to you later, Sir.” She pleaded. Harry liked the sound of her begging, the whining tilt to her voice only making his cock throb in his hand. 

“Shhh, baby. Sh.” He scolded. “I’ll give it to you. Know you’re gagging for it, but if someone hears it’ll make me have to stop. Need you to keep those pretty noises quiet for me.” As much as it pained him, it was also fucking hot. Y/N was letting him fuck her in the dark corner of a dingy hallway, so needy that she can’t wait to go home. His fingers made quick work of her panties, tugging them to the side. There was a slight ripping sound but he didn’t concern himself with that as he ran the head of his cock over her slick slit. “Jesus… you’re soaked for me.” The awe was audible in his voice. He’d done that. No one else. “Remember your colors.” He felt drunk himself, even after being sober the whole night. “S’gonna be a stretch but I think you can take it. If you’re enough of a whore t’let me fuck you with your little boyfriend just meters away, you can take a bit of burn.” 

There was no other warning before his dick began to push into her. The girl mewled, head falling back onto the wall with a thump as she bit her lip to try to stop the louder noise from escaping. It was a stretch, but his words, his degrading before it had made her clit throb. Later on she would probably feel guilty, but that was tomorrow’s problem. Right now, she had the best dick in her life sinking into her and making her eyes water at how well he stretched her out, her nails digging into the back of his neck. “Oh my god.” She whispered, looking at the man in front of her. 

He was beautiful. Even in the dim light where it was hard to tell real features, she could see his eyes on her own, see his jaw clenched as he sunk into her hole. Y/N had only taken his cock a few times and that was last week. The last orgasm she had was in the bathroom stall at the cafe, and it was safe to say she’d been obsessing over the man filling her all week long. Even if she got an orgasm out of the lunch, it had made her more desperate for him to well and truly fuck her. “It’s so much, Sir.” She gave a wobbly whisper as the last bit sunk into her, finally balls deep in her. What she’d been craving since sunday evening. 

“I know it is, pet. But you’re a precious little slut, so I think you can take it.” He cooed softly, beginning to give short and shallow thrusts. “Your cunt is perfect. Y’know that? As filthy as it is… s’so fucking tight, swallowing me up. You’re quickly becoming my favorite set of holes.” 

And.. Oh. Fuck, that hard her moaning. Y/N wanted to be his favorite. She wanted to make all the other submissives he’s had in the past pale in comparison. Maybe it wasn’t very girlboss of her, but she wanted him to prefer her mouth, her moans, her cunt, every bit of her like he’d been haunting her mind. 

“Want to be that.” She whimpered, rocking her hips the best she could in the position. “You can, you can have any part of me.”

“I know I can, sweetheart. You’re my sweet little fucktoy, a pet for me to use.” He pulled out a bit more, feeling her slick walls try to tighten in protest. It was too good, and he had to be careful not to blow his load too early. “You don’t care about anything other than being fucked. I was gonna be real nice t’you, bring you home, play with that pretty ass… Got your plugs, was gonna train that little hole all weekend to make sure you could take my cock back there. But you’re a slut, got me hard and opened your legs for me right next to your boyfriend. What would he say, hm?” Lips brushed her ear as he fucked into her slowly, her head tilting up. “What would he say if he came back here and saw his sweet little girlfriend getting fucked raw? Desperate for it, too.” He grinned against her skin feeling a little drunk with power, knowing it was turning her on too. Her cunt was getting more and more wet around him, easing the slip he had to fuck her.  “Hm? Tell me.” 

“He’d… he’d be shocked sir.” She swallowed her moan, eyes fluttering shut as his lips pressed sloppy kisses over the expanse of her neck. Those perfect lips of his that she’d been thinking about all week. “Maybe mad. Cause he can’t…” There was a small debate in saying it, but they both knew it was the truth. Even said boyfriend himself knew it. “He can’t fuck me the way you can.” 

Fuck, if that didn’t work Harry up, he didn’t know what would. It played into his praise kink, yes, but that dark seed of possessiveness, that unhinged part of his brain that considered Y/N his own really fucking loved hearing that. “Fuck.” He drawled out the word as he thrust all the way inside of her again, stealing her breath as it jostled her. “You’re right. He can’t.” Harry growled. “He doesn’t know how to use a pretty pussy like this. Can’t give you the nasty fuck a slut like you needs.” There was no use in denying it. Something had shifted, something more animalistic in nature as he wrapped a hand around her throat, kissing her hard as he began to truly fuck her. 

Her cries were muffled with his lips while his prick fucked her open. The bite of her nails in his skin only added to his pleasure, the slight unhinged feeling breaking open as he fucked her like a doll. She was perfect, he thinks. Perfect in every fucking way. If that boyfriend was out of the way, he’d put a collar on her so fucking fast her head would spin. Not only was she getting trained to his exact wants, but she had the same interests. Played into his kinks, was so eager for him, for his cock and to learn. “Such a sweet girl… but if anyone comes back here… they’re gonna see what you really are.” He panted between thrusts, looking at her face as her brows furrowed and mouth opened in a soft ‘o’. 

The girl looked fucked out, used, and that’s exactly what she wants. “Fooled me at first. Shocked me… when I found out you wanted someone to rough you up, play with you. But now you’re my willing and eager puppy.” He laughed in disbelief, listening to the soft sounds of her being fucked. Sweat beaded on his brow, his cock fucking into her willing and soft pussy over and over again. She just took it so well. Like she was made for him. 

“I… I…” She stuttered before letting out a choked moan, hole fluttering around his cock as he got in deep and buried into her. Her clit rubbed against his torso making her gasp, nodding her head. “There. There, please, just like that. Like that, I’ll cum.” It was frantic, eyes widening as she pleaded with him. “Please let me cum, sir. I need it, I need to cum and I need your cum so bad. I’ll be so good all weekend, I promise, I just… I need it. Please, Please…” Her babbling was slightly embarrassing but it amused him. 

“Poor baby needs to cum so quickly…” He crooned. “Fuck, you’re incredible. Sucha good little puppy, eager to please the man who owns your holes.” Taunting her was fun, but he knew this couldn’t be a long fuck. Someone would come looking, and as hot as it could be in his mind, he didn’t know if Y/N would be alright with that out of the sexual haze. “Go on. Show me how my pet cums on a cock. Give me your eyes- look at me while you cum.” 

His pace stayed the same, his belly and groan wet with her arousal as he felt her breathing pick up again and the hole wrapped around him start to pulsate as she looked him in the eye as he watched her fall apart on him. 

Y/N felt the rush of heat over her body as she began to tremble in his arms, holding tight onto him as her brain fell back into that place he always got her to. Teetering between this dimension and the next, she let out a sob as she came on his cock. He didn’t stop, though, fucking her through the orgasm and extending it as fingers lightly pressed against the sides of her throat, giving that headrush that made it more intense. 

She was making a mess of him, but he didn’t seem able to hold back anymore. Making sure she was good, he kissed her lips and muttered softly. “Color, baby. Tell me a color.” 

“Green, green, please.” The submissive felt hazed. “Want your cum. Want it when we- when we say goodbye-” She was letting out the dirty bit of her mind, something she’d been afraid to say in the past few minutes but had fully come to fruition now. And it seemed to set the dominant off. 

“Oh, fuck me.” He growled, giving no second chance as soon as she said it. If she thought she was being fucked before, it was nothing compared to how he pounded into her now. Dropping her down a little bit, he released her throat and held both sides of her ass as he used her cunt. It was about his orgasm now, but she could feel another one rising. “You want my cum dripping down your thighs when you say goodbye? S’that what you were saying?” 

He’d never sounded like this before but Y/N liked it, biting her tongue to keep from crying out as she nodded. It’s exactly what she meant.  

“Nasty fuckin’ girl. God, m’obsessed with you.” it slipped without his permission but he didn’t realize it, feeling his cock fuck into the tight, sloppy cunt. One day he wanted to fuck multiple loads into her, watch it drip out, and she’d let him because she was perfect.  So perfect that she said what they were both thinking. Let her say goodbye to her boyfriend with his cum trickling down her legs and her pussy still wet from the fresh fuck. “You’re gonna be a good little girl and say goodbye smelling like me, full of me. Gonna come home with me to get fucked the way you need to while he sits and watches sports drunk off his ass.” He said through clenched teeth. “Because you’re my perfect girl. Aren’t you? Sweetest little sub I’ve ever taken. M’gonna cum so soon but I can feel it…” She was too. 

Y/N didn’t know what exactly about his words and the situation that made it so hot. Maybe it was because Harry truly cared about her, he took care of her, he was doing everything she needed and she felt increasingly disconnected from the man who had suggested this in the first place. He’d said he’d try but all he cared about was his beer and the game and his friends, barely sparing a look at her while Harry had given her all of his attention every single time she’d spoken to him. 

Maybe Harry was just better. 

It hit her hard and fast, a second orgasm washing over her as she clung to him and felt his fingers dig into the flesh of her ass. Maybe if she wasn’t so out of her mind from the perfect fuck that has her more aroused than she could imagine, it wouldn’t have slipped, but it did. “Daddy- Fuck, Daddy cum in me. Cum in me, cum in me, cum in-” Her moan was muffled by his neck as she buried her face in it, but it didn’t matter considering his groan was loud enough for the both of them to be caught if someone was around. 

Harry hadn’t seen it coming, literally and metaphorically. Her sweet, melodic, fucked out voice calling him a different honorific, one he hadn’t realized would make him feel as crazy as it did, it ended him. Made him want to hear that little voice call him that when he pumped her full of his load every single time. His balls pulsed as he filled her growling under his breath as he pinned her to the wall further with his body, trying to get his prick into her damn tummy. It stole his own air, hearing her little cries with each short thrust as he fucked his cum deeper inside of her. “Fuck, there it is. Take every drop of Daddy’s cum, my sweet girl.” the dominant whispered, shifting her weight to one hand so he could pull her face from his neck and kiss her. 

It was softer, but more passionate in a different way. Something had shifted since their time at the cafe and it was palpable. There was a difference in how he allowed himself to handle her. It wasn’t just like a submissive anymore. He cared far more than he was probably allowed but there was no way to stop it, even though he’d been trying. Thumbing over her cheek, the single tearstain wiped away as he pecked her lips over and over again. “S’my perfect girl. Eager pup.” He cooed, , nudging their noses. “Are you okay? Need anything from me, sweets?” The dominant headspace was still there but it was mixed with his normal one, doting on her but understanding they needed to get out of this hallway asap and go the fuck home. His cock was still twitching inside of her, giving her the last little bit of cum that he’d been saving all week for her. 

“No, I’m okay.” She smiled, that dazed look on her face. “It just feels really good.” There was a little giggle that could’ve gotten him hard again, but it stopped when she sobered up. His heart kicked up in panic as he saw the shift in her face, but she beat him to it when he went to ask her why. “Oh, god. Harry, I- I’m sorry I called you that. I don’t know why, we haven’t discussed if that was okay or-”

“It’s very okay.” He assured, placing a finger over her mouth to stop her from talking. “Made me cum, if m’being honest. I liked it.” A kiss of reassurance was given to her, but he knew that it was partially selfish too. The man found himself craving her lips a lot more than he should, and considering he hadn’t gotten a kiss from her before their escapade back here, he was the greedy one now. “We can talk about it later but there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.  Especially when it made me orgasm like that.” A lighthearted laugh followed. “But we do have t’go, sweetheart. I’m not done with you in the slightest.” 

There was an unspoken agreement in the air as he pulled out of her, hissing at the cool air. He didn’t bother to do much cleaning as he shoved himself back inside his pants, annoyed it was dark in the area now so he couldn't see much of his cum besides some that made a slight glisten from the light down the hall. “There’s so much.” She whispered, standing on wobbly feet. 

Y/N could feel it. Sticky and dribbling and spreading over her inner thighs, but it was a good feeling in this moment. Satisfying. Harry had quelled the ache he caused, and he did it perfectly.  Her skirt was adjusted by the man, and she let him fuss over her because it felt good. His tender touches made her feel cared for, fingers brushing messy hair back and out of her face and thumb wiping around her mouth. “Messy girl.” He hummed, giving a smile she could make out in the dark corner they’d retreated to. “We’re gonna tell them you feel a bit ill and m’gonna drive you home since I’m leaving anyway. Alright?” Her chin was caught by his finger, curled under it as he stared at her. “Are you comfortable with that?” 

Sure, they’d said so much during sex but he wasn’t about to force her into anything she didn’t want to do. 

“Mhm. Jus’ wanna go home with you.” She nodded, feeling the excitement rise again in her tummy. It felt like a big ‘fuck you’ to her boyfriend who had ignored her the whole night. 

“Alright, angel. Let’s go.” Resisting the urge to hold her hand, he settled on a touch on her lower back as they approached the table. He felt his cock’s weak twitch of interest as he saw her slight wobble in walking. He’d been the cause of that. “Hey, Y/N’s not feelin’ too hot and I was gonna head out so m’gonna take her with me.” He said easily as a few heads turned towards them. Danny’s was one of them, looking her over. 

“Yeah, you look a little sick. Go on home, I’ll talk to you later.” He turned his head back to the TV and it took everything in Harry not to snap at him. Though when he turned to see Y/N with her bag in hand, she looked more annoyed than anything else. If she had been teary eyed, he wouldn’t have been able to hold his tongue. 

Harry was still irritated though as he took Y/N’s bag for her, guiding her out of the place with a more solid hand on her back. Fuck it if people thought it was weird. 

It only made him more happy she had said goodbye to him with evidence of their passion between her legs. He didn’t fucking deserve her, and Y/N deserved better. 

Taking her hand, he helped her into the car and buckled her seatbelt for her. He didn’t have to, she was perfectly capable of doing it herself, but he wanted to do it for her. He liked taking care of her and making her feel appreciated because it was so clearly obvious she hasn’t been. 

Part of him wanted to ask how long he’s behaved like this. If she only realized it wasn’t normal when she got into this arrangement with him, or if she’d been feeling it before, but it just didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up. 

He knew it wasn’t right of him to get so deep, to allow his mind to wander as he drove them home with his hand on her knee and her fingers playing with his rings again. Thinking of what he should do, what it could be like if she was properly his and asking her if she really wanted to be with him after all of this. It was so difficult to work through in his brain, so many gray areas and blurred lines that seemed hard to even see the shape of anymore. 

The intention had been to show her the ropes, but she was the one wrapping them around his heart and tying him up. Tethering him to her. If he was a smarter man, a less selfish one, he’d tell her they couldn’t do this anymore. He’d take her home and sit her down to explain they needed a line of separation. But he wasn’t going to do that. Selfishly and hopefully, he’d take all he could get from her and show her how she should be treated, how he’d treat her if she left the other man and let herself truly belong to him. Give her a taste of the full thing. Harry could be good for her, even if he was kind of convinced she was too good for anyone else. 

“You okay?” Y/N’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, making his head turn to her with a gentler expression. She looked concerned and fuck if that didn’t do him in. The girl cared for him, but he needed to see how much.  “Mhm. M’fine, sweetheart. Just thinking.” Bringing her hand up to his mouth, his heart thudding in his chest at the casual intimacy, he placed a feather light kiss on her knuckles. One by one, he was letting another piece of the line they were supposed to have clearly defined blur into obscurity.

[waywardsou2]

Drunk!Logan x Drunk!Male Reader

This was supposed to be kinda smutty but it ended up being kinda sad. If you want to see part two with some actual NSFW themes then let me know in the comments, because I feel like I can go somewhere with this.

Summary: Life is shitty being a mutant, and it's even shittier when you can't save everyone. So where do you turn? The bar, to drink away the pain and forget for a few hours. Unfortunately for you, someone decided to keep you company.

Word Count: 1k+

Tags: alcohol, bar fight, suicidal ideation, self-hate, self-esteem, worthlessness trauma

It had been a rough week, the missions got difficult and sacrifices had to be made. People were lost. But its part of the job right? That shit always happens. Well tonight you just couldn’t stand it, the knowing that there were people you couldn’t save. Families who were missing loved ones, because you weren’t fast enough.

It made you sad, but it mostly made you angry. At least that’s how you presented it to the world. And that’s how you presented it to Logan, the man who had followed you to the bar. You didn’t know why. If he cared, you didn’t want his pity. If he was here for a drink why couldn’t he have gone somewhere else.

Big scary Logan, The Wolverine. What did he need to sit here and drink about, especially where you were trying to get shit faced before you had to see Charles the next day.

“Can’t you drink somewhere else?” you say to him, your words already slurred from the bottle you had almost finished emptying.

“Nope” he said flatly as he sat down on the stool next to you, ordering a round of shots for himself.

You rolled your eyes, either this guy was dense or just an asshole.

“Oh Logan is too high and mighty to go drink somewhere else because I would rather get shit faced alone than with company” you say

The bar was empty, but it didn’t really matter much, you weren’t going to keep your voice down even if there were people in here. Something about him was just rubbing you the wrong way. You didn’t know whether it was the alcohol, the pain of your supressed emotions or just the fact that Logan never bat an eye at you despite how much you tried to show him you had value to the team.

“Yeah basically”

Your anger gets the better of you at his sarcasm and you shove him, he leans away, almost spilling his drink. He downs it and turns to you

“Are we gonna have a problem, bub?”

“I don’t know, are we?” you retort

“You want to do this here? Now?”

“What to scare to make a mess? Afraid you’ll hurt me? Guess what asshole I’m-“

But he didn’t get to hear what you are because he shoved you back, standing up from his seat as he pushed you off yours and onto the ground. Your back hit the wooden floor and you hear the bartender sigh.

You watch as he walks away from the counter and into the back.

You glare up at Logan, lips peeled back in a snarl. But before you could stand up, he was grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pulling you up from the ground. He was taller than you slightly so he could lift you off your feet.

“You think your funny with a smart mouth like that, well I got news for you, it’ll be no good for anything if you keep running it off”

You tried to shove him off of you but you couldn’t bring up enough force with your feet barely touching the ground.

“Let go of me!”

“Are going to calm down?”

“That depends, are you going to keep pushing me around?”

He dropped you and your knee buckled a little bit at suddenly having to take weight again.

“You pushed first” he muttered going to sit back down

“And I’m going to push last”

You swing at him, a sloppy, open swing, unlike your usual bullet-like punches. Before you could even make contact with Logan he spun around and pushed you to the floor again, clambering on top of you. His claws out. The outermost ones were jammed into the floor creating a fracture in the wood from the force, the middle was still retracted, barely peeking out of the gap in his skin just above your neck.

Instead of feeling fear at the threat you laugh. Like him, you had super regeneration so him stabbing you was no real threat. Not to mention you had carbon fiber steel for skin. He shoves his face in yours and growls

“What the fuck is your problem” he spits

Both of you have drunk enough, you're both rearing for a fight and the only person you have to take it out on is each other.

Logan is pissed, he doesn’t get you. You spend every mission jumping into dangerous situations and then you come to the bar every night to come back drunk. Do you have a screw loose or are you just that stupid.

Even as he looks at you with his brow furroed and his claws at your throat you continue to laugh.

“Go on then, slice me open. Maybe we’ll both feel better afterwards” you laugh again but pain stings at your eyes as tears well up.

If only you could just die, make a sacrifice worth something like everyone else. Maybe then the pain will stop, maybe then you won't spend every night pitting yourself, maybe you won't be the cause of any more loss because you just weren’t good enough.

Logan pauses, ready cut you to ribbons but your statement makes him freeze. He knows that tone, the mirth. The self-deprecation and pain in your words. He doesn’t need to be like Charles to know what’s going on in your head.

“What. Are. You. Waiting. For?”

Before Logan could answer or move you grip his wrist pulling it out of wooden floors and slam his fist into you chest.

But there are no blades, no blood and not cuts. Just the knuckles of his fist thumping into your chest. It only throbs in pain, no damage done.

“Fuck you” you say bluntly and shove him off of you, pushing him away and standing up. He’s left speechless watching as you stand up, down the rest of the bottle and one of his shots. Pull out some crumpled notes and storm off, walking out into the night.

Let me know if you want part 2 and I take request for as well so check me out @waywardwritesstuff for my request info.

(Psst you can find part 2 here)

[theunbreakablecurse0]

I’ve been thinking… imagine if Six Eyes had their own feelings and stuff. Like “eyes are the window to the soul” type of thing.

And after Geto defected they feel progressively worse and worse. It all starts with light headaches and becomes lingering migraines.

But Satoru (as usually) pretends he’s okay, and even though Shoko suspects something is wrong, no one can really do anything about it.

I don’t think Satoru even communicates with people properly. He is silent most of the time. Only talks to Yaga when he needs to go on a mission.

Then!

Satoru meets Suguru again in Shinjuku and when he sees him, everything seem to fade away, the headaches, the exhaustion of not sleeping for a few days an all.

But Suguru seems cold and out of his reach.

And events happens canonically (Suguru’s famous phrase and the shitty talk) so after short time Satoru feels worse again.

Like he feels worse than EVER BEFORE. And Suguru (who is not as much of a fool even though he definitely looks like one) immediately notices.

“Satoru? What’s wrong?”

There’s no answer. And right by the time Suguru reaches him, Satoru collapses into his arms with a quiet sob. Infinity down and his cursed energy uncontrollably splashes around him.

Suguru of course doesn’t give a fuck about the crowd and he lifts Satoru up in his arms to carry him away to a less crowded spot in an alley. They sit on a bench next to some old shop. Suguru never lets him go even when Satoru gets better. Blue eyes stare at him with tiredness and sadness.

“You can go. I’m fine.”

“How long have this been going on?” Suguru asks worriedly.

Satoru winces from loud voice and Suguru apologizes softly.

“How about you tell me about how long has this been going on then? That stuff on your mind?”

Satoru waits for an answer with expectation.

“It’s complicated,” Suguru whispers, his hand hesitantly leaves Satoru’s back.

“I know,” Satoru says gently, catching it with his fingers.

Suguru can’t seem to find words, so Satoru offers something else.

“You are mean when you are hungry. Can we go eat?”

“Satoru, you can’t be serious,” Suguru huffs.

“I am, please… For me? Or… at least a proper hug before you go,” Satoru asks.

And Suguru feels even shittier than before, cause everything suddenly seems out of place.

“You genuinely want to?” he asks.

“Are you stupid? Why wouldn’t I?” Satoru answers.

“Mass murder? I don’t know,” Suguru says a bit sarcastically.

“This is a talk for later. A proper talk.”

Satoru tugs on Suguru’s hand.

“Food. Hug later. Preferably without you leaving.”

“God, okay,” Suguru breathes out, feeling his eyes burn.

It takes him a week to understand it.

“Satoru?”

Mimiko and Nanako are asleep in separate room of a small apartment they stay in for now. Satoru is making them tea in the kitchen. Because Suguru loves tea. And stupid candies they bought that day in Shinjuku. And he most definitely sure he loves Satoru.

“Yep?”

“Do I affect your eyes?”

Satoru almost drops a mug. He then holds it tightly, while debating on what to say.

Suguru steps closer, taking the mug from slim fingers and putting it aside. He holds Satoru’s hand instead.

“We had a deal. About honesty, remember?”

Silence.

“You do.”

Suguru holds his breath.

“Why?”

“Cause it is you, Suguru. And I feel bad when you are not around.”

“You never said.”

“My mistake,” Satoru says, shying away.

“I see,” Suguru whispers. Satoru’s fingers already became warm in his palm.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to…”

Suguru interrupts him by closing distance between them. He takes off glasses and presses kisses to Satoru’s eyelids. Satoru looks dumbfounded all of a sudden.

“I don’t feel obligated. I promise.”

P.S. And mfs lived happily ever after. Ta~da~

P.P.S. Fuck typos if there’s any!

[bubbipond]

OK but why am I seeing on Twitter and Tumblr people saying that Tonkla did not love Korn as much as Korn loved him?? Did we watch the same show? Let’s not act like Korn was boyfriend of the year. Tonkla didn’t just wake up one morning and decided to be a murderer. He also didn’t force Korn to also cheat on him??? Korn was choosing his family and the life he lived his whole life over love the entire time. You can argue that love wasn’t more important than revenge to Kla but you can’t argue that he didn’t love and care about Korn or vice versa.

He literally took a bullet for him. He did not have to do that. He knew his time was running out. You don’t do things that Tonkla did in this show and expect to live happily ever after. In my opinion, they had the most realistic end to a dark series. You can love someone and want to be with them, but fate not be in your corner. They were both in retrospect too deep into their individual lives to not die and I find that extremely heartbreaking. To be honest if two people deserve a happy ending it was probably them because their issues were not entirely made by them. Their situations were directly influenced by other people (technically so was Greats but he ended up happy so).

But I feel like deducing everything between Korn and Kla to just a revenge plot is a lack of critical thinking. I know that’s a buzz word and I’m not just saying that because throughout the airing of the series I have been like, “I support Kla’s wrongs and his rights”. But instead, I am saying this because he and Korn are not their actions. They are who they are because of other peoples actions. Kla couldn’t move on with his life after his brother died because there was no justice. He definitely needed therapy and he should not have been going around murdering people or attempting to. But that was a direct Issue stemming from his brother’s death. Korn didn’t want to be the head of the family. He didn’t want to be a crappy brother or a crappy boyfriend. He didn’t want to marry that girl whose name escapes me.

And at the end of it, they were both willing to look at each other and be like you know what!? We are Thelma and Louise, we are Bonnie and Clyde. In the most tragic ways possible. I think that’s the reason they kind of stole the last episode. All of their shit was out there. Neither one of them were cowards and neither one of them were good people. Maybe they were at one time but life and the choices they made changed that. I think their end was perfect because they both succeeded and failed at their motives at the end of the day. Neither one was where they were in the beginning at the end of it all.

Marrying that woman wasn’t going to miraculously make Korns life easier. In the end, she cut her losses anyway. The marriage didn’t help her at that point. So where did he have to go? The revelation that Kla was the one to shoot Great and that Great was part of his brother’s murder didn’t diminish how they felt about each other. It just complicated everything. Attempting to murder the people responsible for his brother’s death didn’t bring Kla solace. It didn’t bring his brother back and if anything it just made life shittier. At the end of the day, there was no out for either of them. They would both still have to pay for things they did and did not do. So even though their story ended, they still had a better ending. They still love each other despite the tough situation they were in.

My favorite part of that last scene is Bas’ facial expressions when he hears everything from Kla. He’s not heartbroken, or angry, he’s not bewildered, Or jealous. He’s all of the above and you can see it written on his face so perfectly. Bas really knows how to show emotion on his face and I love him for that; especially the mix of feelings between the revelation and him pointing that gun. He wasn’t questioning whether or not Kla loved him because what did Kla have to gain from keeping him around at the point of him running? This man was exhausted. He was tired of everything and everyone he was tired of the cards that they all have been dealt up until that point. He knew pointing that gun was a bad idea. But their backs were against the wall and there was nothing left to lose. Until there was. He had to watch the love of his life take a bullet for him. So I will not sit here and let people act like Kla was this master manipulator who only wanted revenge.

Because the saddest part about all of this is, it was just a very unfortunate circumstance that intertwined Great and Dome.

[frozenjokes]

Please For The Love Of Everything Good, MAKE SOME NEW FRIENDS AND LEAVE ME ALONE. With Love, HotGuy <3 (3/3)

prev

Poultry Man was not the type of bird who liked to speak, or even spoke at all. When Poultry Man had something to say, he did so in the form of egg-based political commentary, usually crimes, but not always. Sometimes when he was pissed off, there wasn’t any commentary at all, just chickens. Gotta keep the people guessing, right? Poultry Man liked elaborate schemes, he liked delivering a message, and he liked chickens.

This was not Poultry Man’s first scavenger hunt, nor would it be his last. CuteGuy the villain was dead (among other aliases), but Poultry Man would live on forever, a shining light in this dank city. A golden egg among other, shittier, stupider eggs- whatever, it didn’t matter. Poultry Man was awesome, and Grian felt awesome as he sat at the end of the abandoned road, waiting. He had his postcards ready, simply waiting for HotGuy to arrive. Today was important. Grian would make it count.

Grian ended up waiting a little longer than he thought he would have to, which he probably should have guessed. HotGuy was known to misread and misinterpret basically anything, and it didn’t matter how neat Grian wrote, dyslexia was one son of a bitch.

But HotGuy did eventually arrive, panting and sweaty, and Grian couldn’t help but chuckle imagining him running from place to place and looking for Poultry Man’s hints. Cute, really. HotGuy lit up when he spotted Poultry Man, perched on the roof of a long broken down car, one that had been here for years, no one bothering to haul it off to the dump. Grian smiled, though HotGuy wouldn’t see it under the mask.

“Poultry Man! It’s- I can’t believe I have the chance to finally meet you! Properly, I mean. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you out and about, hasn’t it.. I know CuteGuy was your friend, but I take it you two probably don’t get along much right now.”

Grian shook his head, writing quickly, then tossing the note at HotGuy’s feet. The cardstock was heavy, so it did go a decent distance instead of fluttering pathetically to the ground like normal paper would; Grian had learned that the hard way. Humiliating. Regardless, HotGuy scrambled to pick up the note, reading with wide eyes.

“You’re still friends? Oh, I’m glad! Really, I am. I was a little worried about you, honestly, but I didn’t want to ask just in case the subject was sensitive. CuteGuy and I.. I mean, I’ve been trying, but he just doesn’t like me very much. We don’t really get along, and I just wish I could change his mind. You see, I really like this guy, Cub’s his name, but he and CuteGuy live together, and I just- CuteGuy hates me! He hates that I like Cub, and doesn’t want us to be in any sort of relationship at all, and I just wish I could show him I’m not all that bad, y’know? I mean..” HotGuy trailed off, looking momentarily hopeful, “He told you I wanted to meet with you, right? Was that recently? Did he do that for me?”

Grian considered him for a moment before nodding, and HotGuy just about melted.

“Oh, you have no idea how happy that makes me. And- and that you wanted to meet me in the first place! CuteGuy said you wouldn’t want to, and that you wouldn’t want to talk to me, and I guess you’re not talking, but you’re here, and I’m thrilled! I hope he told you I don’t want to arrest you or hurt you or anything- I don’t know, I got the impression he thought you’d be offended, but with CuteGuy, it’s a little hard to tell. He’s really defensive on your behalf. When I told him I thought he was a good friend for that he tried to beat the shit out of me. Well, he did beat the shit out of me. But that was also for other reasons. It’s complicated. But you don’t look like you want to kill me, and you guys are friends, so maybe you can put in a good word?”

Grian couldn’t suppress the small chuckle that left his throat, and HotGuy seemed to think that was a good sign, perking up, his already large eyes widening. Yeah. Grian could see where Cub was coming from. Having someone like that look at you like this at all hours of the day? Even a heart as icy and dead as his gave a little. He stopped again to write, throwing the postcard to the ground, and HotGuy scurried forward to pick it up.

“Ah- I did get a little distracted, didn’t I? You’re right, you’re right. So- I know you probably won’t answer, but I wanted to ask regardless.. The chickens? The eggs? Where do you get them? And I mean- you probably shouldn’t tell me, full transparency I guess, because I’d probably try to stop you.. Honestly though! I promise it's nothing against you! Well, maybe not nothing- you are committing crimes, but I’m mostly worried about the chickens? The place we bring them to, the sanctuary- they’re happy there! They’re well taken care of and loved. After your.. stunts.. the chickens end up in a good place, and I thought you should know that I care about them. So when I ask, it’s coming from a place of concern for the animals, yeah? I imagine they’re so confused being put in all these random places, having no idea what’s happening or where they’ve ended up.. Wherever you raise them- I’m assuming you raise them- it’s a good place? In our investigation of your activity, we still have no idea where you’re getting them, and I’d just hate to think they’re somewhere underground, unhappy, y’know?”

Grian cocked his head, a visual signal to HotGuy that he was thinking, considering him. That was.. very sweet. Not something Grian would have expected from HotGuy, especially after watching him try to manhandle the chickens Poultry Man had planted, yelling and flailing and generally being far more afraid than should ever be acceptable for someone trying (and failing, miserably) to wrangle chickens. Grian wrote his note, tossing it to the ground.

HotGuy read it aloud this time, “A man after my own heart..” HotGuy trailed off, smiling, and put a hand to his heart as he looked back up. “Of course. That little farm is a great place, Poultry Man, I’m assuming you’ve seen it.” HotGuy paused and Grian nodded, giving a thumbs up to show his approval.

HotGuy looked pleased, continuing, “I just wanted to offer, even though you’ll probably say no.. They would take your chickens, if you wanted to surrender however many you have left. I know it’s mostly eggs with you, and you don’t come around all too frequently, but if you ever decide to give this thing up, or if you can’t care for them anymore, or anything at all, that option is always available for you. Personally, I’d sleep a little easier knowing you weren’t putting live animals in peoples’ houses, but to each their own I guess.”

Grian smiled under the mask, taking a deep breath, “You have nothing to worry about. Well, not the putting chickens in places people don’t want them, I will still be doing that, but the chickens themselves are well taken care of, I can promise you that.”

HotGuy startled at the sound of his voice, jumping to his toes, and Grian couldn’t suppress a laugh, drawing a hand lazily to the beak of his mask as if to try and hide it. Grian was still no good at disguising his voice, so he didn’t bother trying, fastening his hands to the side of his mask and removing it before HotGuy had enough time to process who was actually speaking. HotGuy’s face was worth every anxiety about revealing Poultry Man’s identity.

“Grian!” HotGuy squeaked, a positively delightful sound, “Why are you dressed up as Poultry Man! That- You tricked me! Identity theft is no joke! This is not cool!”

Grian gaped for a moment, mouth opening and closing dumbly, “I- Are you joking.”

“I just told you this is no joke!”

“I am Poultry Man, Scar. HotGuy. Whatever you’re called. I have literally always been Poultry Man.”

“Poultry Man has been around for years!” HotGuy was so genuine, so annoying- Grian was almost offended. Maybe he was offended, actually- What was HotGuy playing at? Was it so impossible to believe he had multiple alter egos?

“Uh, yeah,” Grian finally huffed, rolling his eyes, “So have I.”

“You’re- why?” HotGuy sounded so distressed, so confused, and altogether Grian just couldn’t help but laugh. It was so stupid! He couldn’t stop laughing, arms across his stomach, kicking his feet a bit, talons scratching up the roof of the already beat up car.

“Come on,” Grian wheezed, “Is it really so hard for you to believe?”

“I- Yes! You guys- Poultry Man is noble. Poultry Man is a nuisance, but he has things to say! He has depth. CuteGuy is just a fucking dick!”

“Wow,” Grian drew the world out in fake offense, spreading his wings as he leaned back on the car’s roof, “Maybe you’ve misunderstood Poultry Man all along. Maybe he’s just as evil and uncaring as CuteGuy. They are friends after all, good friends, close.”

“No! CuteGuy was a bad influence on him, that’s all, he just didn’t have many other people to turn to.”

“You know you’re talking about the same person.”

“I- I know that!” HotGuy seethed, like this was quite possibly the most meaningful betrayal he had ever experienced. The little stories he’d made up about Poultry Man, entirely false. It was almost pitiful, really. HotGuy had no idea how to cope, Grian could see it as clearly as the conflict in his face.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Grian crooned, sitting up to rest his elbows on his knees, head in his hands, “Did you like him? Look up to him, even? And all this time you had no idea it was all just lil ol’ me.”

“I didn’t- I don’t look up to Poultry Man. I thought I could help him. I wanted to help him. I don’t- I still don’t think he’s a bad guy!”

“Nothing like CuteGuy, cold and sharp and mean, no, no,” Grian teased, “Denial is a funny thing, isn’t it?”

“I am serious! It doesn’t matter if Poultry Man and CuteGuy and Grian are all technically the same body, you are not the same people, just like HotGuy and civilian HotGuy are not the same.”

“Uh, pretty sure that’s not true, bud. That’s all just Grian, along with every other pseudonym I’ve held over the years.”

“What- really?” HotGuy stopped short, like this was completely foreign to him, “They’re all the same to you? Wait a minute, there’s more? Is every avian supervillain in this city just you? How many alter egos do you have!?” HotGuy puffed up, and Grian snickered.

“I am so glad you asked! My biggest escapade was probably the whole Mooners cult with Mumbo- do you remember? He was the head of course, but I was his faceless right hand man-“

“You know Mumbo?”

“We are roommates in college. I haven’t talked to him in a while though, and given the ‘retirement,’ I’m assuming he probably wouldn’t want to catch up regardless.”

HotGuy groaned loudly into his hands, “The Mooners were so annoying! Do you even know how much damage you two caused with that? People don’t function right when they don’t sleep!”

“Oh, it was a trip. It was awesome. And don’t think I don’t remember you attending our first couple meetings.”

“Yeah, when I thought it was a fun sleepover event thing- no one sleeps during sleepovers, everyone knows that! You guys were weird and crazy and everyone was partying- it was awesome.”

“Uh huh, and you drew quite a bit of attention to us, thanks for that.”

HotGuy groaned again into his hands and Grian snickered from his perch, pleased.

“Less successful was The Entity, but that was still quite a bit of fun. That massive rock I found just outside of town? It was a cool rock. And suddenly, I’m a prophet! People love a good Horror, and boy did I deliver. Flesh and guts and a horrifying puppet of a man, me. I bet I could have gained a bigger following, but I got bored. Still though, I think my favorite stunt I’ve ever pulled off was blowing up the whole thing and disappearing without a trace. I’m not going to tell you how I got my claws on dynamite, but that whole thing was fucking awesome. In the middle of the night, the whole rock, gone. And after- everyone wanted to know! What happened to The Entity? To its prophet? People were feeling like they missed out, like they wished they could have been there before it all exploded. Maybe it didn’t matter how big the cult was in the first place, but how it will be remembered. You like making history, don’t you, HotGuy?”

“Oh my god.”

“Good story, huh?”

“I just can’t believe that was you. How many costumes do you have? Wasn’t that one like- awfully gorey, right? And you just sat out there covered in- I don’t even want to know.”

Grian preened, incredibly pleased. “It was gross. Cub knows about that one actually, only because I disappeared for like a month. Brought me food when I needed it, though, most of the time I was fine.”

HotGuy sighed, drawing his hands over his face. “Anything else?” He didn’t look particularly like he wanted to know, and Grian’s wings fluttered, deeply content.

“Nothing huge. A long time ago, years actually, I convinced a couple of people they were being haunted by salmon. Pretty funny. I actually brought that back recently, I just tormented this one guy- thought he was cursed by the ocean, it was great. Didn’t make headlines, but sometimes that’s not what matters in life.”

“You are- you’re fucking evil. Recently? When have you even had the time!?”

Grian cackled, trailing off into a snicker, “I make the time. I was also unemployed.”

“Ah. I guess that explains it..” HotGuy sighed, frowning gently, something distinctly distant. Honestly, it didn’t look like he was thinking about Grian at all, which was a little annoying; he’d just confessed to being like five different criminals, if not legal crimes, then surely social ones, and HotGuy didn’t even look like he cared! (And listen, Grian wasn’t some kind of whore for attention, but a little recognition would be nice, yeah? Yeah.) But HotGuy did look back up, some kind of quiet despondency behind those eyes. “And it doesn’t bother you?”

“What? Being a public nuisance? That doesn’t bother me at all.”

“No, your identities I mean. It’s all just.. Grian? Not any more complicated than that?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I feel like I’m lying under every name I take.”

Grian shrugged, “You are, aren’t you? So am I. Elaborate lies, kinda, all under one central person. I like to dress up and play pretend and cause problems, just like basically everyone else in this godforsaken city. We aren’t special.”

But HotGuy didn’t look satisfied, eyebrows knitting impossibly tight, “I don’t have a central person. I’m not anyone.”

“Your civilian identity?”

“He’s not real either.” HotGuy looked at his feet, and Grian didn’t really know what to do with that, nor did he understand.

“Oh. That’s wild.”

HotGuy made a bit of a strangled noise before squeaking out a small “Yeah?” He fiddled with his hands for a moment, pulling at the fabric of his gloves, “I don’t know, I didn’t realize.. How did you do that? Not feel.. lost.”

Grian’s lip curled, the question invoking a similar reaction as when he would open the fridge to the smell of something rotting, “I can not even begin to tell you how unqualified I am to talk to you about anything at all. That’s a problem for you and your therapist, pal.”

HotGuy looked briefly indignant at that, then deflated, a more unhappy look crossing his face. “I don’t have a therapist.”

“What? Why not?” Grian sat up, just about as genuinely surprised as someone could be at a confession like that. A lot of things he learned about HotGuy made very little sense, but that just may have been the biggest surprise yet.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A pretty straightforward one I think. There’s no way you’re not all sorts of fucked up, not with the sort of bodily trauma you’ve been through and the job you’re currently holding. And you’ve got, like, infinite money. And you never shut up. Why not pay someone to listen to you.”

“I am not ‘all sorts of fucked up,’” HotGuy scoffed, “I am fine. And I don’t have infinite money, geez. I don’t need a therapist.”

“You say that like you’ve got something against therapy. So you’re one of those guys. Ick.”

“I’m not- no, I am not ‘ick.’ I think therapy is great! Therapists help lots of people, probably just as many as I do, I’d say. They’re the real heroes, yeah?”

Grian rolled his eyes, throwing his head back in a sarcastically languid movement, “Oh, let me guess. You’re the type of person who encourages people to go and see a therapist, but when the same thing is said to you, you say something like ‘Ah, no, therapy just isn’t for me.’ Am I right? You don’t need to tell me, I know I’m right.”

“You are not- Listen! It’s just something that doesn’t work for me, okay? Nothing about that is appealing to me.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

Hotguy pursed his lips, defiant. “..No.”

Grian had to laugh, his voice losing its edge in favor of something more genuine, “Dude, you’d probably love it. I’m serious. You’d go crazy for therapy. I mean, it’s hard work sometimes, and it can be a little bit trying, but then you start hating yourself a little less, and if you’re not in the mood one week, there’s still a very nice lady across from you who you can just talk to about whatever you want! I can’t watch The Bachelor anymore, it’s bad for me, and also bad for Cub, but my therapy sessions have never been more derailed. Good times. Fun! Sometimes it feels like therapists don’t know a single thing about anything that isn’t, like, mental health- I swear I’ve explained things to her I was convinced were common knowledge like- a lot. It happens a lot.”

“You don’t.. You just talk about whatever you want?”

“Yeah! Honestly, for the first couple weeks, I don’t think I talked about myself more than three or four times and I was going twice a week. It’s not uncommon. If you want, I can give you the name of the clinic I go to. I like the people there.”

“I.. I don’t know. I don’t really have the time, and I can talk to anyone about anything if I wanted to for free. I don’t know. And my issues are like- pretty intertwined with my identities, which I can’t really talk about.”

“Sure you can. It’s all confidential unless you’re hurting yourself or others, basically. Like, legally confidential. You can tell all you want about your different identities and your therapist can’t say a thing. I don’t tell about my alter egos for obvious reasons, but that’s not where my issues stem from anyway. But lately, I have been dipping my toes into talking about the superhero business, mostly because it’s pretty relevant to the things I’ve been feeling lately.”

“You talk about me?” An innocent question, one that Grian couldn’t help but laugh sharply at.

“Uh, yeah. You come up. We got a little off track for a minute there, but that’s kind of why I’m here in the chicken costume. I’m about to knock your socks off in a minute, seriously. Eugh. I don’t even want to say it. Makes me a little sick to my stomach, honestly, but I brought you all the way out here and revealed basically every misdeed I’ve ever committed to you, so. Surely this won’t be as hard..” Grian trailed off for a moment, pursing his lips, “No. This is harder. This is so much harder.”

HotGuy threw him an apprehensive smile, shrugging, “You’re making me nervous, here. I’m not actually wearing any socks, but for the sake of this I’ll pretend.” HotGuy ran a hand through his hair, and Grian couldn’t suppress a small chuckle when tiny amounts of glitter floated down.

“Well, HotGuy, I haven’t been very nice to you.”

HotGuy’s eyes jumped up, his attention sufficiently grabbed. He looked awkward then, the hand returning to his hair. “I.. think I would agree..” He took a quick breath, like he was unsure if that was the right thing to say.

Grian gritted his teeth, then let go, breathing deeply, “I want to change that.”

“Oh!” HotGuy threw his hands up in front of his chest, an unfairly endearing reaction of surprise, his eyes as wide as saucers, “I-I mean- You don’t have to-”

Grian threw his head back in a loud cackle, “Seriously?”

“No! No I didn’t mean that. Sorry- I didn’t know how to react to that. That. This is new for me. Did you stop disliking me? Don’t answer that. I’m confused. I don’t understand. I would like very much if you were nice to me. Well. Nicer. You don’t even have to be nice, but it would be cool if you acted like you hated me a little less.”

Grian waved a hand, silencing the nonsense blabber from a very embarrassed looking HotGuy. “I’ve been treating you unfairly, and it has very little to do with you as a person. You’ll never hear me repeat this, and if you ask anyone I’ll deny it, but I don’t think you’re actually a shitty guy. You’re an alright guy, maybe even less bad than I thought you were before we met properly. Maybe even better than most superheroes, but the bar is low, okay, don’t let that get to your head.” Grian took a breath, and HotGuy just stared, stunned, so when he didn’t say anything, Grian went on.

“Jealousy is a tame word I think. Envy doesn’t feel right either. I was.. deeply, viscerally angry, in all the physically animal ways I can not even begin to describe to you. And that’s not.. gone. It won’t leave, it’s just a part of me and I have to find a way to cope with it that’s not being a massive prick to you and Cub, but mostly you. Because you made a move on him before I even understood what I was feeling, feelings I had never considered before because I had never been afraid of losing him like that. I never had a reason to be so possessive before, because I was the only person.. I don’t know. But I think you understand. I’ve been in love, and didn’t really recognize it because neither of us really had anyone else to love, right?”

HotGuy opened his mouth to speak, but Grian cut him off with a shake of his head, “Don’t. Not yet. I’m not done. Yesterday morning I made this decision, that I was going to take him out and try to win him back, yeah? Delusional things, and I knew just as much, but I couldn’t fight it, I couldn’t let it go, and then yesterday afternoon, it kind of just.. hit me. I don’t want to ‘win him back’ from anyone, or anything like that. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were, selfishly, when we were both lonelier, unhappier people. And then I realized, hey, wait a minute, there’s something I want more than that, more than anything I could ever want for myself. I want Cub to be happy. I want him to step out of his shell, date superheroes, maybe even get his heart broken, as long as he’s living, y’know? And I want to live too, I want to put myself out there and meet people and try things I can’t do when I’m at home. Things I couldn’t do before, when it was just me and Cub, kind of miserable and kind of lonely, just stagnating, y’know?”

“You’re saying a lot of words, Grian, and I’m not understanding most of them.”

Grian chuckled into his hand, then sighed, the smile fading, “Cub didn’t want me to tell you this, but I think it’s important that you know, for transparency’s sake. I love him. And he loves me too, yes, like that. And I told him because I couldn’t keep it a secret, because I just couldn’t handle it anymore, and not because I was trying to force my way between you two, and I want you to believe me, so I’ve been honest, I’ve told you everything, all my secrets, all my crimes. I had no idea how he felt, and I don’t think he knew very much either. We’re so close, you have to understand. It was hard to even see it, not before everything was thrown into question, and suddenly things are changing and you’re feeling and you don’t even know what’s going on. But I think I know what would happen, HotGuy, if we acted on those feelings. If we let everything go back to normal, except maybe with a few more stolen kisses, and really, I mean it when I say a few, we are not the most physically inclined people; more lazy than anything.”

Grian stopped himself, realizing HotGuy was looking a bit pale. “Maybe I should cut to the chase. We talked it over for a long time and we both agree we don’t want things to be the way they were before. We don’t want to stagnate and rot away, to have each other, but nothing else, y’know? And I’m afraid of change. I’m afraid of you. But I want to let you in. And he wants you too.”

“Like- Like a polycule?”

“I- No! No-” Grian had to laugh, too startled to do much else, “I guess I could have worded that a little better. No, I mean you and Cub. I think you and Cub should have the chance to love each other, if you still want that.”

“I’m poly, Grian.”

“Goodness- Scar, please, not necessary,” Grian covered his face, struggling to contain his laughter, mostly bubbling up from nerves now, which unfortunately, was painfully obvious, “You don’t love me, and I mean it when I say I don’t want to get in the way. I want you to have this. I want Cub to have this.”

“I could love you. I think I could.”

Grian stared, possibly gaping, though he had no idea. He might have been flustered if his brain hadn’t factory reset itself right then and there. At some point he remembered to breathe, and had to take a couple of moments to do that in silence.

When there was sufficient air in his lungs, he looked up. “But you don’t. And I don’t love you either. And that’s okay, Scar. That’s okay.” Grian felt his voice buckle, the first and last warning he was going to cry, and damn it he didn’t want to, he really hadn’t wanted to cry, but he hadn’t been prepared for this, he was not prepared to be forgiven like it was effortless, to be told he could be loved.

“Grian I- fuck it-” To Grian’s great alarm, HotGuy began to fiddle with his mask, a motion Grian recognized from HotGuy’s first meeting with Cub.

“Whoa! No, no! Don’t- Don’t do anything you’re going to regret, please!” Grian hopped off the car, waving his arms, but HotGuy didn’t listen, breaths coming harshly from his nose. Grian couldn’t stop him before the mask was off, though, even with his face fully bared, Grian didn’t see anything that particularly shocked him. He still didn’t recognize HotGuy from anyone he’d seen on the street, which made perfect sense. Civilian HotGuy probably blended right in. Though a few things stood out, like his eyes, the same striking green as his brother’s, and a few scars that were obscured by the mask, though, that was no surprise. But HotGuy seemed distressed at Grian’s non-reaction, looking near panic as he jumped back.

“Do you- makeup wipes, do you have makeup wipes?”

His panic was infectious, Grian fumbling over his words, “Not on me, I don’t just carry them around.”

“I don’t either!” HotGuy hissed before making a decisive noise, rubbing at his face with his gloved hands instead. “Whatever.”

“HotGuy- Scar, please, you don’t have to do this-” Grian wanted to pull HotGuy’s hands away, but at the same time, couldn’t bring himself to touch the other, “This feels bad, Scar.” But HotGuy didn’t stop, fingers raking over the places where he had covered up scars. And other spots too, where he seemed to have meticulously sculpted lines across his face that just weren’t real- Grian had never noticed, it was so well done.

“I don’t want this anymore! I don’t want to be a secret! I want to be like you, I want you to know me!” But still, Grian was too distressed with this display to properly look at him, which only seemed to upset HotGuy further, growing more and more hysterical, “Grian!”

“I don’t know what you want, HotGuy!”

“Grian, please!” And that was different. Distinctly, world-rockingly different, that was not HotGuy’s voice. That was not HotGuy.

Grian was pretty sure he yelled, soft and then loudly, very loudly, a violent crescendo as he backpedaled anywhere away, away, get away, at all costs get away from the man using Micah’s voice, from Micah in HotGuy’s uniform, frantic and frightened, but above all else, deeply, deeply relieved.

Tripping on flapping wings, it took a second for Grian to be airborne, screaming his distress all the way into the sky, movements uneven and exhausting, but panic did little else but put him in the clouds, flying anywhere as long as it was away.

Poultry Man was a chicken, afterall.

by the way, if you are one of the people reading only this specific story (as indicated by the 3/3) and are interested to know more or what happens next, there is more, and there will be more after this, and you can find all of it on ao3 here

[baxteravenue]

been waiting for you to post your jack drafts since you don’t write for him anymore 🥺 love your writing!!!

here you go, these are VERY unfinished and unedited lol... hope you enjoy or not <33 not sure where I was going with this one

Jack had been in Denver for about a week now, feeling shittier than ever. He was not even sure what the hell he was even doing there, maybe getting away from things... Things he couldn’t even pinpoint.

You on the other hand were in Denver because you lived there and went to school there. But besides that, you were on his same page. You didn’t know what the hell you were doing with your life. You weren’t even from Denver, you just had gotten a full ride to a small school. 

You were just trying to get through the days, all of them moving in a blur that meshed together.

“Have you tried any of the coffee here?” A random voice broke you out of your daze. 

You shook your head a little, your head feeling like it still wasn't in your body.

“No?”

“Huh?” You still felt like you were in a daze.

The curly haired man gave you a confused look, “The coffee? Anything worth recommending?”

“Oh…” You nodded, “Uhm I like the tea. I don’t really drink coffee if I’m being honest.”

He gave you a soft smile, “I don’t drink coffee either I was just... pondering I guess.”

You laughed, “Yeah that’s a way to put it.”

“Cherry-Hibiscus Iced Tea for Y/N!” 

“Well, whatever you get I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Have a nice day.” You smiled at the stranger before grabbing your tea and walking out the door heading down to the record store right next door. 

Y/N… Jack had thought that was a nice name. 

“Next in line!”

“Um yeah, can I get a Cherry-Hibiscus Iced Tea?”

You loved Saturdays just like any other person, the one day of the week where you knew yesterday was yesterday and tomorrow would be tomorrow. The only day of the week were days felt separated. 

You usually spend it doing all your favorite things. Today you allowed yourself to wander into the record shop that you hardly ever went into for the sake of your wallet. 

Today would be a good day, you just knew it. 

“Crystal Castles?” A familiar voice speaks from beside you. 

You look up at the stranger from the coffee shop, “Yeah.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever listened to them.” 

“I’m sure you have, just without knowing it. They’re having a moment on TikTok right now.” You shrug.

“Is that where you found them?” 

You shake your head, “No I just watched a lot of Skins growing up and had a damaging amount of internet access at twelve.”

You expect this to be the last of the conversation but it’s not because he proceeds to introduce himself. 

“I’m Jack by the way.” 

You nod, “Nice to meet you Jack. I’m Y/N.”

Now you really expect it to be the last time the two of you talk but he’s still standing in front of you and now you feel nervous, but not in a way were you want to tell him to fuck off.

“Do you live around here?” Jack asks and you give him a questioning look, making him retract his words, “I’m sorry that sounded creepy as hell, I’m just asking because I’m not from here I’m just like visiting… Tryna get my head straight. I’m from Louisville by the way.”

His nerves somehow ease yours and you find yourself answering his question. “Mhm, I go to school here. The small one in the next town over.”

“Cool, you like it? Is this where you’re originally from?” Jack browses next to you, keeping conversation. 

You look down at his hand, he has the exact same drink as you and you smile. “No and no. What about you?”

“I think that you’re probably the coolest person I’ve met in this state in a whole week.” Jack says.

You look back up from the vinyls, staring him straight in the eyes. “Have you ever tried chocolate shrooms?”

[lothcatthree]

my darling<3<3 i have very much enjoyed everything you've told me about the coffee/pastry shop au so feel free to feed me more (pun intended) but i am also very intrigued by this ballerina au 👀👀

hi babe!!! sorry this took so long, but i got my ass in gear and made a snippet.

(psst, @brokenphoenix99 @violentcheese @forloveofcodywan @halfwaytoknowhere this one is for y'all too)

here, obi-wan is a professional ballerina and cody is an ex-marine who decided to be a sports medicine physical therapist at a clinic owned by kix. waxer is a kindergarten teacher, which isn't important to the plot but i thought you'd like that info <3

this would be another long-ish fic where obi-wan starts out as cody's patient and ends up pursuing him. cody is very confused because he's trying to stay professional, but obi-wan is so handsome and nice and funny and goddammit he's making cody fall in love with him, ethics be damned.

hilarity and shenanigans ensue.

here's a snippet for their first meeting (obi-wan gets to be a little slutty, as a treat)

Cody is a professional, you see.

He’s never had an issue separating work from his personal life, which really hasn’t been difficult, seeing as most of his patients have been teenaged athletes or huge burly football players that speak a grand total of five words to Cody and prefer to communicate through grunts and pointing at where it hurts.

And then there’s Obi-Wan.

When Cody heard he was being referred to a new client, a professional ballerina, Cody expected something like a tiny, rail-thin person to walk through his door with shitty ankles and a shittier attitude. Not that Cody has anything against ballerinas, specifically, but his only experience has been movies and TV shows and sue him for never meeting one in person.

And then…

There’s Obi-Wan.

Cody is not expecting the man that does walk through the door of the clinic with bright blue eyes, a kind smile, and soft auburn hair that falls just above his shoulders. Where Cody expected all ballerinas to be sharp edges, this man just looks so… soft.

And then he speaks.

“Hi, my name is Obi-Wan. I’m here to see…” Obi-Wan trails off and checks his phone, “Dr. Cody Fett?”

Cody springs into action from where he was more or less creepily lurking in the clinic, watching from a spot that gives him a view of the front desk. It’s his favorite spot to throw things at Jesse, their receptionist, when he’s not looking.

Cody strides into the lobby, attempting to act casual and if he wasn’t just gawking over the man that walked in. The man’s (Obi-Wan, Cody reminds himself) eyes dart to him and Cody tries to keep a straight face, but it feels like he’s burning under the gaze for some reason.

“Hi, that’s me,” Cody curves around the desk and stands a few feet in front of Obi-Wan, extending a hand.

Obi-Wan offers him another smile; a flash of white teeth and a small dimple on his chin. Cody watches his eyes assess Cody and dip down his body, but Cody brushes it off. It’s not the first time a patient has checked him out, though usually they’re more subtle.

He quickly sets the water bottle he’s carrying (it’s covered in stickers, and Cody registers a pride flag sticker, but decides to shove that information away) onto the desk to shake Cody’s hand.

“Pleasure to meet you. Thank you for getting me into your schedule so quickly. I have a recital coming up in a few weeks and I really need to get this bum knee figured out,” Obi-Wan says, taking his hand away and gesturing to his right knee, which is covered in a brace that fits underneath the hem of his biker shorts.

Cody returns his hand to his side, sliding it into the pocket of his black scrub joggers and politely laughs. He has the urge to ask where Obi-Wan’s (wonderfully smooth) accent is from, but that’s got nothing to do with his care and Cody internally chastises himself.

Focus.

“It’s no problem. Why don’t you go ahead and come back with me and we can figure out what’s going on? You can put your stuff on that table at the back” Cody says, gesturing to some cubbies they got for free when Waxer emptied out his old classroom.

Obi-Wan shoots him a grateful smile and begins walking into the clinic just ahead of Cody. After a step, though, Obi-Wan drops his phone, which would be fine, except he abruptly bends at the waist to pick it up. His back arches probably a little more than necessary, and the biker shorts don’t leave a lot of his body to the imagination.

Cody, thanking every possible deity that he still has quick reflexes from his Marine days, stops and flies a hand out to grip the desk to prevent himself from tripping and promptly running his pelvis into what is, unfortunately, a fantastic ass.

Obi-Wan grabs his phone and stands back up fluidly, turning over his shoulder to shoot Cody a smile that, well… It's been a while since Cody’s gotten around, but he could swear it’s flirtatious.

“Sorry. Can’t bend at the knees,” Obi-Wan explains, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

In fact, he quickly drags his eyes down Cody’s body and Cody could swear he bites his lip before turning on his heel and walking to the cubbies.

Cody doesn’t respond and he feels his face has heated up, so he turns to Jesse to make sure that all of that actually just happened. Jesse turns from where he was watching Obi-Wan and looks to Cody with slightly raised brows before he gets a look at Cody’s blush and bites his lip to hide a smile.

“Did you se-” Cody begins to whisper.

“I saw it,” Jesse nods and snickers.

Cody blinks dumbly at Jesse, his systems still a little offline as he tries to process that a patient (a beautiful one, but that’s entirely besides the point) just openly flirted with him and tried to get him to look at his ass (it worked, but that’s entirely besides the point).

Jesse looks over at Obi-Wan again and breaks out into an amused grin, his hand coming up to rub at his mouth. He turns to look at Cody again and Cody is a little scared of what he just saw.

Jesse jerks his head over to Obi-Wan and Cody gulps before looking over there. Obi-Wan is working on re-tying his shoes, which is innocent enough, but…

That motherfucker is bending at the knee.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

hi !! i really love your work !! i know you already covered it in the alphabet, but can i have some comfort headcanons/one shot with leo (gn!reader). uni is kicking my ass and having adhd is not helping. would be great if you could write this, but dont worry if you dont feel like it. thanks !!

Thank you! I'm sorry uni's being a pain, hopefully this provides a nice distraction! I hope things get better, have an awesome day, and I hope you enjoy!

Leo Myers comforting his stressed S/O

Gn! reader

Warnings: Reader's implied to have adhd, reader is stressed

Divider credit goes to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

It was too much. All of it was too much.

You were trying to get your work done, you really were. But it was hard to focus, especially when you knew you had so much to do. You were doing the best you could, working as much as you could manage to, but the work was still beginning to pile up, creating more and more stress until you felt like you would burst with the pressure. Your focus was getting shittier by the minute, every minor thing distracting you, making it harder and harder for you to pay attention to your already neglected work. 

You were trying, but it wasn’t enough. No matter what you did, you just couldn’t focus. The stress, the work, your grade, it was weighing down on you, dragging you to the bottom of the college ocean.

After a couple more hours of fragmented focus and inconsistent work, you threw your computer down, placed your head in your hands, and groaned loudly. You can’t do this anymore. You need a break. Screw the homework, screw the grade, screw sitting around, praying you’d find the willpower to get through your work, you needed to get up and move. Or take a break. Or do…well, anything. Anything that wasn’t this. 

Quickly, before you could change your mind, you stood up, walking into the wider apartment you shared with your roommate. They were out doing something, so thankfully, you had the place to yourself, free to pace the hardwood floors to your heart's content. It wasn’t much, the space was still cramped, but you were moving, and you weren’t working, so that was something.

Stifling a sigh, you began walking around the apartment, back and forth, back and forth, looking for anything to clear your mind, or distract you enough to get your bearings back. You needed a break, but the work wasn’t going to do itself, and the quicker you could fix your attention span, the faster it would get done. You just needed to clear your head, you just needed to retain your focus, you just needed-

*Knock knock*

Ah. Someone was at your door, but you weren’t expecting anyone. You had cleared the whole day out to get work done, which wasn’t saying much considering how little you had managed to do. Your roommate, maybe? Did they forget their keys again?

Making your way to the door, you twisted the knob, your frustration evident. “Dude, you really need to take your keys with you, this is the third time this mon-“

The door swung open, but to your surprise, it wasn’t your roommate. It was your boyfriend Leo, bags of food hanging from his arms. “…What?”

“Leo? What are you doing here?” You blinked with confusion, stepping aside to let him into your apartment. “I thought you were my roommate. What’s all that?”

Leo stepped inside, giving you a small, understanding smile as he walked toward the nearest table, placing the bag on top of it. “Well, you seemed upset when you texted me earlier that school was kicking your ass, so I thought I’d come over and…I don’t know, try to make you feel better? Unless you’re to busy to chill for a bit, then I can just leave this here and let you work-”

“No, Stay!” You didn’t mean to shout, but your voice came out ten notches too loud, a strange sort of desperation lining your words. Whoops. “I mean, it would be nice if you could stay. I could use a distraction.”

Leo tensed up briefly at the loud noise, but relaxed as your voice softened, a small, sympathetic smile crossing his face. “Yeah, no problem. Honestly, you look like you could use one. Is it the schoolwork?”

“...Yeah, it is.” You sighed, shaking your head in annoyance before walking closer to the table, observing the food Leo had just put down. To your delight, it was from your favorite restaurant, a whole meal packed away in tightly sealed containers. Had Leo really gotten all this for you? “You really got me dinner? All this, just to make me feel better?”

You turned back around to face Leo, who’s smile hadn’t left his face. He looked happy, his feet bouncing up and down underneath him as he shifted around, swaying from foot to foot. “Of course I did! You’ve been working really hard lately, you deserve a treat. Plus, I figured you’d probably only eaten snacks today, so I figured you could use some real food. Give your brain better fuel, you know?”

Almost as if on cue, your stomach growled loudly, the smell reminding it of its emptiness. Leo was right, you had only really eaten a couple of snacks, and even that had been hours ago. You were hungry, hungry for real food. It was fortunate that you now had a whole meal waiting for you, hot, delicious, and best of all, fully prepared. “Wow babe, I don’t…I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“Nah, don’t thank me.” Leo shook his head, walking towards the table. He grabbed the packages of food out of the bags, setting them where there was space until there was nothing left to grab. “I’m happy to do this for you. As I said, you deserve a treat, especially after working all day.”

“More like trying to work all day.” You pulled out a chair and sat down, motioning Leo to do the same. You pulled your portion of food closer to yourself, opening the container and letting yourself drown in the delicious smell of your favorite food. Ah, sweet nutrition. “I’ve barely gotten anything done. I have so much to do, but I haven’t been able to focus. It takes me so much time to get even smaller tasks done, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

You dug into your food with frustration, watching as Leo nodded sympathetically across the table. He paused, swallowing a bite of food before reaching out with a shaky hand, curling his fingers around yours softly when his hand was met with one of yours. “I get what you mean. It’s hard to get work done when you know how much you have to do, isn’t it?”

You hummed softly, taking another couple bites of food. You needed this. You were still stressed, but at least the food was giving you more energy. “It’s distracting, is what it is. How am I supposed to focus on something when I have ten other things waiting for me?”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, munching on your food. Then Leo spoke up again, his voice soft with slight optimism. “I’m sure you’ve gotten more done than you think. It doesn’t usually feel like a lot until I look back and see how much I did in a day. At least, that’s my experience.”

A small, bitter smile twitched at your lip for a second, but you suppressed it, lest your boyfriend think it was aimed at him. “I hope so. Still, it feels like nothing right now, and it’s stressing me out. There’s so much crap to do, and not enough time, not to mention how shit my focus is.”

A thoughtful look crossed Leo’s face. “Anything I can help with? I mean, is there anything confusing you that I might be able to explain?”

You shook your head again. “Not likely. You don’t take the same classes as me, remember?”

Leo grimaced, swallowing another bite of food. “...I know, I just feel bad. I want to help, but I guess there’s not a ton I can do with your class work.”

You smiled. Despite the stress, it was cute how much your boyfriend was trying to help, even if he didn’t know what he was doing. You appreciated his efforts, but was there really much he could do? “...I mean, you could still help, just in a different way.”

“Can I?” Leo’s voice sounded hopeful again, his hand going to push the hair out of his face as he looked back up at you. “How?”

“Well, my focus is shit, so…maybe a distraction would help. If you could stay for a while, that might…I don’t know, refresh me? It would give me a break, at least.”

Leo smiled again, putting his fork down on his box of food. It looked like he was about done, and you were too, except for a couple of bites. “Sure! I can stay. You have anything you want to do in mind?”

You paused, thinking. What could you do? Talking helped, but so could anything else. A game? A movie? Cuddling?  “...You wanna just cuddle and talk? Speaking might help, and I miss you holding me.”

“Sure, let me clear the trash and then we can cuddle wherever you want, ok?” Leo stood up, gently taking his trash over to the nearby trash can. 

You took the opportunity to finish the last couple bites of your food before Leo came back around, his hands reaching out to grab your trash, which you handed to him gladly. You appreciated how much he was doing for you, even when it seemed so little. You were tired, so being able to move around as little as possible, even for a couple moments, was a gift.

Leo finished up, coming back around until he was standing beside you. “Bedroom or couch?”

You took a breath, mustering up the energy to get back on your feet before lurching forward, shuffling out of your chair. “Bedroom please.”

The two of you shuffled your way to your room, hand in hand, Leo’s shoulder brushing up against yours. You stepped into the room, practically collapsing on top of the bed while Leo grabbed your laptop and notebook and set them aside somewhere you couldn’t see them. Out of sight, out of mind. 

As soon as he made sure there was nothing school-related on your bed anymore, Leo flopped down beside you, kicking off his shoes as he did so. A moment of shuffling around later, and he was beside you, wrapping his arms around your mostly limp form. “You doing alright?”

“...About as much as I can be,” you replied, your voice now muffled by Leo’s sweatshirt. You shuffled closer, pressing yourself as close to your boyfriend’s side as you possibly could. He wasn’t the warmest ,but he was soft, so you didn’t care. “Thank you for staying. Locking myself in here just to stare at my screen was driving me nuts. I needed a break.”

Leo’s arms wrapped themselves tighter around you, his lips meeting the top of your head softly. You loved how light his kisses were. “No problem. I’m glad I could give you some peace, even for a little bit. If you don’t mind me asking…how bad’s the workload?”

You paused for a moment, thinking. You tried counting all the assignments you still had left in your head, but it didn’t take long for you to lose track, and you were too tired to try to recount. “Not great. I’ve got a bunch of little assignments to get done, which wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t also have three bigger assignments taking up my brain space. I’m worried the most about those, but the little stuff is gonna end up adding up, and I just can’t focus on more than one assignment for more than a couple minutes at a time. I keep getting distracted by other stuff, and I feel like…like it’s not even worth trying. I’m not gonna get everything done, so why bother?”

You curled up even further on Leo’s chest, resting your ear against his collarbone as Leo’s chin poked against the top of your head. You hadn’t meant to say so much, you didn’t want to burden your boyfriend with your problems, but the floodgates had been opened, and you could no longer hold yourself back from spilling all the stress that had been boiling over for days. You hoped you weren’t putting him off, but you were too tired to pretend like everything was fine. You were done.

A hand slowly worked its way down your arm, finding one of your own and intertwining the two together. His hold was soft, comforting. Not too firm, but not loose either. “I’m so sorry babe. I’ve been there before, and it sucks. I’m not sure if there’s anything I can do to help with the work itself, but…I’m here for you, ok? I’m here now, and I’ll always be here. If you ever get too stressed, just call or text me, and I’ll be here. I…I love you.” 

Despite your stress, a smile began crawling across your face, pressing deeper into the fabric of Leo’s sweatshirt. “I love you too. Thank you for this. You’re right, there’s not much you can do for my work, but you’re a good stress deflator. Can you keep holding me like this? It feels safe.”

“Of course,” Leo murmured, kissing the top of your head again. His arms tenderly caged you in, keeping you secure, away from the stress that had plagued you for the past few days. One arm briefly left your body to pull your blankets over your body, but swiftly returned, holding you softly to his body once again. “I’ll hold you as long as you want. Anything you wanna talk about to distract you?”

“Mm…how about…your day?” 

Leo’s head nodded from above you. “Ok, I can do that. My day wasn’t all that special until I came here, but I had a couple classes…”

Leo continued on, his voice unnaturally quiet, and you sunk further into his chest, relaxing with every word. His voice was soothing, especially when he was making an effort to be more quiet. You could listen to him talk for hours.

Eventually, your small conversation turned from Leo's day to other topics, switching every so often to match the flow of ideas. As you talked, you could feel your eyelids growing heavier and heavier, the darkness of the room and the softness of Leo’s voice doing nothing to keep you awake. Your lack of sleep was finally catching up to you. You were going to fall asleep soon, right on Leo’s chest, safe in his loving arms. 

Without realizing it, your voice began to trail off, responding less and less to Leo’s comments. You were half unconscious when your boyfriend’s voice rang out again, affection dripping from every word.

“Sleep well baby. I’ll see you in the morning, ok?”

Your only response was to snuggle closer one last time, inhaling the clean scent of your boyfriend’s clothes as you slowly faded. Thumbs rubbed soft circles on your back, sending you further and further into sleep. Your work could wait. Your classes could wait. Right now, you just wanted to sleep, soaking in the affection your boyfriend was giving you in your last moments of consciousness.

At last, you faded, darkness enveloping your form. You couldn’t wait until you woke up, safe in Leo’s arms. Morning cuddles were the best, after all. 

You smiled, and then you were out.

I hope you enjoyed!

[egipci]

Here's Another One For You

This was a couple of hours in. We had about three hundred miles to go. My eyes were closed and I was resting my head back when he just reached over and put his hand on my shoulder, thumb tucked right under my collarbone and said how you doing buddy? I rolled my head to the left and forced my eyes open and I found him driving with his left knee against the door and his wrist hooked through the wheel. He was looking at the road with his eyes squinted against the sun and when I said nothing he turned to look at me straight on, frowning with his dark eyebrows, so serious-looking, and for a second it looked like he was figuring me out, figuring out some cruel thing to say, but then he grinned just to see me. I swallowed and closed my eyes and turned away. We passed a couple of paleta stands. I saw an insane guy with a stick speed walking along the desert road, his elbows stabbing through the air behind him.

We’d been up in Columbus. Not even Ohio. The shittier one in Nebraska. And we were heading all the way down to Amarillo. I don’t remember why. It was a rugaru or something. I don’t remember what it was or why it had to be us. I don’t know how he even heard about it. He just said he was leaving and asked if I wanted to come and I said yes. Ten hours away but he was going to make it in half. As if they had no hunters down there. Even then I thought what he liked more than anything was that he was the best.

Anyway. It was almost sundown but it was one of those days you know the night is going to be even hotter. The sun really baked into the earth. Just miles of open road ahead of us blurring in that desert way. My shirt was soaked through with sweat and he was still holding on to my shoulder but then he let go and put his hand around my jaw and turned my head to look at him. I told him I’m sweating my balls off. My throat was all scratchy. It sounded like my voice was traveling through water or oil or something. It made him laugh. It was like a hundred degrees outside but he laughed and it flared hot all through my chest. He scratched his fingers through my hair, behind my ear. He said look alive, kiddo. He touched my temple, under my jaw, my side, just messing with me, and when I squirmed away he pulled me closer with my t-shirt clenched in his fist. I wanted to mess with him too, so when he touched my chin I grabbed his skinny wrist and I took two of his fingers into my mouth. Skin and sweat and dirt. Calloused at the tips. He made a soft humming sound and pressed down on my tongue, felt the roof of my mouth, the ridges of my teeth, the place where they sprout out of the gum. His thumb was at the corner of my mouth and he gave me this look that could singe your ears. 

We had another hundred miles in the tank but he pulled up at a Chevron. We got out and stretched and untied and retied our shoes. We got inside to put a five on the meter. We bought water and Gatorade. I checked out the nudies by the door and he snorted and squeezed the back of my neck. I told him I’m going to the restroom and I pissed and washed my hands and I waited. When I got out he was already back behind the wheel. The sky was a dark purple color. I got in the car and he said come here, pulling me closer by the collar. I put my hand on his knee and then up the inseam of his jeans, sick overeager feeling, but again he just laughed at me. He told me to go to sleep. I laid my head on his thigh, my knees bent up and leaning against the backrest. He put his hand over my throat and I closed my eyes and the next time I opened them it was because he’d stopped at a drive-thru for coffee. Now it was night and he was talking to the lady on the other side like normal, like nothing at all to see here. He asked her for a tray. I guess he put it on top of the dashboard. He drove all careful and pulled up into the parking lot and sat there sipping his coffee slow.

I could have sat up and stretched out my arms and offered to drive but I didn’t. I closed my eyes and kept them closed. He’d kept a hand on me the whole time. At some point it had slipped under my shirt. It was right at the center of my chest. Without even thinking about blowing my cover I put my hand over his, just the t-shirt between us. He said, We’re almost there, his voice low, his thumb moving over my skin. I didn’t know what that meant, and I didn’t ask. He was always almost somewhere. I nodded and turned to my side and his denim scratched my cheek, and I curled my shoulder so I was hugging his arm to my chest. I guess I was really tired or maybe it was because it was dark. Maybe it was just the heat but already my mind was slipping again, half-thinking about how when we get wherever we’re going I’m going to take a cold shower and I’m going to turn on the A.C. that smells like shit and I’m going to spread out on the cool bedsheet and wait until he comes to me. How he’ll have me sweating through the sheets. And just that thought made me hard, so then I was thinking if I pulled my dick out right there he’d let me. If I kissed inside his elbow he’d let me. If I pressed my face to his stomach. He’d let me change the music if I wanted. He said, Check out this motherfucker in the Ford, then one-handed he honked loud and angry and overtook him, his other hand holding me down. He told the dude to go fuck himself and then floored it and the tires screeched and we were flying, and I thought if anything happened to us out there in the dark, like if we crashed and the car flipped over a couple of times and we died instantly it would be because of me. I must’ve been eighteen. Maybe nineteen. He had me thinking the craziest things back then. I don’t know what it was.

[theshadowrealmitself]

With the new fionna and cake show out (whooo!) I am once again thinking about the “saving someone from magic corruption” trope, and usually afterwards it’s all about the one who was corrupted coming to terms with everything that had happened to them

But what I would really, really like, angst-wise, from that trope, would be an outsider’s pov

So like, this person has known this corrupted person for awhile and helps them out, and is so excited to have saved them, and they’re so excited that this person who’s been corrupted for as long as they have known them finally gets to live an uncorrupted life

And they do!! And it’s amazing!! I mean, yeah, there’s gonna be after effects from the whole thing, but being uncorrupted is 1000000% better for them

And the other person is so happy for them, or at least…wants to be, and well, they are in a way, they’re happy that this person is living a better life and isn’t corrupted anymore, but they just thought that after everything was said and done, that it would’ve felt like they had saved the other person, but instead it just feels like they’re mourning them

And fuck, they can’t say that out loud, “oh I miss corrupted you” “oh I’m mourning corrupted you,” “it feels like you died,” like how fucking terrible would that be to say?? And they really don’t want corrupted them back, at all!!

It’s just that their personality after being uncorrupted is so different, it feels like interacting with a new person (especially if uncorrupted them doesn’t have any memories of being corrupted and doesn’t recognize the other person), so it feels like that person they knew for so long is dead because everything familiar about them is gone, but they refuse to say anything like that out loud because they don’t want to make their friend feel upset about getting better, so they just smile and celebrate with everyone else

They’re even the one who gets rid of the corrupting artifact when it seems like it might be once more corrupting that person, refusing to ever let it hurt their friend again, not even hesitating for a second, but rather than it feeling like a triumphant win, it feels like a goodbye, and they feel even shittier for feeling like that

Idk, I just want more of that outsider angst, but rather than it being like “I liked corrupt you better,” I want it to be more like “even if I like this uncorrupted version of you better, I hate that it doesn’t actually feel like a version of you, and I just want to feel like I actually saved my friend when I look at you instead of seeing a stranger, and I feel like shit for not adjusting to this better when it should be more about how you feel” if any of that makes sense to y’all

[fishing-lesbian-catgirl]

Yeah, fair. Also, making fun of someone‘s special interest is never okay and I misjudged how that would be received pretty badly, and should have known better. Sorry for being a jerk and putting down something you care about.

I mean I’m not like mad at you or anything. It’s just that there’s this weirdly disproportionate hatred towards league online that I’m just kind of tired of. “Haha league of legends sucks” is like somewhat true but half the time the people saying play games that are even worse by even shittier companies and they’re just making fun of it cause that’s what people do for some reason. I can only listen to people I know who still play fucking Overwatch say that so many times before it gets old. Idk I’ve been really into this game and it’s items and mechanics in autistic ways for like 8 years and I don’t think I’ll stop any time soon no matter how cringe everyone says it is for some reason I still don’t entirely understand

[communist-ojou-sama]

Since I’ve had a few drinks in me and I’m feeling a little talkative, I feel like I’ve finally arrived at an opinion on AI art after a long period of not saying anything.

 Ofc, necessary context is that while I’m someone who spends a lot of time looking at fanart, I’m not a visual artist but also as someone really involved in another fine art (classical music) I think I understand the feelings that go into developing the technique a lot of illustrators have more than some of the other commentators on this site.

Of course the thing to get at right away is that, good news for everyone, most AI art done in the style of popular online illustration is quite bad and I’m not sure it’ll be possible to cajole it into being good, just as I’m not really very worried about LLM translations as a jp-en translator because, having done some work with them I’ve concluded that they’ll never be particularly capable of translating the kind of conversational Japanese I specialize in, and that perhaps the fears of AI art greatly disrupting the sort of twitter/patreon illustration ecosystem were pretty overblown, but that there’s more to the issue than that.

Anyway what I’m getting at here is that while obviously, the moral character of AI art doesn’t matter: it’s here to stay and we’re gonna have to deal with it one way or another, to bemoan backlash from visual artists and accuse them, essentially, of close-mindedness is just as silly as the most extreme anti-AI art positions that I’ve seen given voice.

 I often hear from people trying to give a reasonable perspective on the matter that the vitriol from more traditional illustrators toward these programs is unfounded because all it does is take in images as training data, recombine them via a certain process, and then produce something new based on that data and, when abstracted like that, isn’t that really just what a human learning to draw looks like?

Well, this is the problem with abstraction, isn’t it? “a certain process” here is a phrase doing a very heavy amount of work, equating matrix multiplication with years of admiring, yearning, frustration, breakthrough, sacrifice, self-discovery, that is abstracted away by pretensions toward “reasonability.”

However rational it may be, the vitriol from the community of illustrators who put their blood, sweat, and tears into being able to make art that’s pleasant to look at is better understood as an elemental force, an inevitable result of attempts by these financialized, extractive tech interests to use them as a mineable resource, and I don’t think you have the right to try to get an word in edge-wise about the “rationality” of replacing copy-writers with ChatGPT which does their job 20% shittier, repeated exponentially over some heretofore-unseen period: the anger is here and won’t be reasoned away, it’s the inevitable and unavoidable response to our social and historical moment, and presuming to reason with it is much like presuming to reason with a geyser imo

[stevie-petey]

hi i’m back!! first of all let me just say how mind blowing your writing is????? EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU M FOR THE AMAZING CHAPTER!!!

im so glad dear billy is ur fav ep from season four too because it’s mine too and oh my god. you did so well in making everything fit so perfectly together bc yk bug not being in st is still such a sad truth for me (and it’s shocking how you aren’t in the writers room for st s5 rn)

but anyways THERES ALOTTT TO UNPACK IN THIS CHAPTER !!

steve and bug first bc holy shiti swear i could feel my heart dropping multiple times while reading about them 

bug asking steve to choose max over her?? and steve pleading with her not to make him choose max over her and saying

“I’m choosing you, Y/N.” and adding 

“I’ll always choose you.” YK WHAT HERES THE FULL SCENE BC IT BROKE ME IN HALF.

[“I’m choosing you, Y/N.” Steve whispers, lips pressed softly against your hair. Your body stiffens, he feels it, but he holds you tighter instead. “I’ll always choose you.”

“Steve…” 

“Please don’t make me say no to you.” He pulls away, grabs your face and makes you look at him. You’re pale, tears wet your lovely face, and all Steve wants to do is fall asleep with you forever. He strokes the crest of your eyebrow, kisses your forehead. “Please don’t make me lose you.”]

PLEASE DONT MAKE ME LOSE YOU?????!?!?!?!?!!? just stab me with bugs pocketknife please.

and before that scene i remember the conversation between them about how steve recalled feeling gutted after seeing nancy and jonathan thinking his night couldn’t get any worse UNTIL HE SAW THE LOOK OF HEARTBREAK ON BUGS FACE and how it made him feel worse knowing he couldn’t have done anything to prevent her from feeling that hurt

[“But that night, it just-it really fucking hurt, you know? Thought I’d never feel anything shittier, that my night couldn’t get any worse. But then… I saw your face.”

“The heartbreak on your face, that fact that I couldn’t do anything to protect you from it. That’s what hurt me the most.”]

..AND THE MOST IMPORTANT LINE OF ALL (TO ME) [“And it’s why I won’t let anything else happen to you.”] and i know steve will try his best to protect her if it meant ensuring bugs safety in the end.

sooooooo who’s gonna tell them that they’ve been eachother’s protectors since day one without even knowing it!

these two are so special to me and it’s just so heartbreaking to see them this way, steve feeling so much fear, and anger :(

i understand his frustration with bug bc everyone can clearly see how she’s putting her own issues aside (despite her literally being cursed with the same thing as my baby max) just to save max and that’s not good bc it’s the BOTH of them that needs saving and bug being stubborn about it isn’t helping steve’s current state :( also i saw ur reply and YOU USING a beatles song is so evil and i love it so so much!!!!!

i’m not ready for bugs visions cause ik shes been carrying sm guilt…with the recent deaths of hopper and billy AND OMG THE NIGHTMARES???? dustin hearing her yell out billy’s name in the middle of the night ☹️ dustin’s being a champ rn LIKE i know he’s not showing it for the sake of his and bugs sanity but i know he’s going crazy in his head bc ITS HIS BIG SISTER?? AND HIS BEST FRIEND?? my poor baby is scared pf losing his bestest friend in the world :( i just need my Henderson siblings happy please </3

and lucas oh lucas!!!! my poor guy he’s literally never been so scared and worried in his entire life until now. THE POSSIBILITY OF LOSING BOTH THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND HIS BIG SISTER IS SO ☹️i need to hug him.

steve and nance r gonna be so best friends (alongside with the loml robin) and i love how they’re becoming more friendly with each other now like the playful banter im ready! (i know they were civil and were already somewhat friends but still) i didn’t particularly enjoy the love-triangle thing in s4 so i’m interested to see how you’ll be dealing with all of it 😭

btw i’m purposely ignoring jon rn. WE DONT SPEAK ABOUT HIM. (he’ll fall to his knees the minute he gets to hawkins and finds out about the curse that vecna gave bug)

ALSO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG BUT I KNOW YOU DONT LIKE TO CHANGE THE CANON TOO MUCH so idk what your plan is with max and bug…but oh my god the survivors guilt bug will carry…im not even ready. max and bug to me is like a literal reflection of each other and their relationship in this story is definitely my favorite thing ever. i don’t even wanna talk about that one scene where bug was yelling at vecna to take her instead. i don’t. i just mentioned it bc i feel so devastated and unready for what’s about to come.

i read smth about how u said there aren’t anymore disagreements between bug and steve!!! and how the rest will just be sad ones AND CUTE ONES (im holding u to that ml) 

does this mean they’ll talk 🤞🤞 i need them to have a proper conversation so i’m crossing my fingers and wishing that we’ll have that conversation alongside with the later conversation between steve and nance (and i believe that it was definitely done for good reasons!)

i listened to in my life while writing this btw and i feel so brave!! 

okay i’m done !! i’m sorry this was long but i appreciate your works and i’m in awe of you !! pls never stop being great!! i hope you’re doing well <333 sending u sm love today lovely <3 e

-🌟🍓

dear billy supremacy !!!

and the entire steve and bug i choose you scene ,,, oh boy theres so many layers to that one specific conversation that i simply cannot wait to dive into later. for now, the entire notion of their relationship is that they chose to love one another !!! bug chose to wait, steve chose to trust her, and they chose to fall in love <333 i firmly believe that true love is choosing to love your partner, not just the chemical reaction in our brains, but the act of staying and trusting to be loved in return - THATS true love.

and steve revealing hes always wanted to help/protect bug <333 i love the porch scene. i love tying things together and also just seeing their growth throughout the seasons. in season 1 the porch scene was heavy with insecurity. bug was weak, back then. she didnt want steve to see how hurt she was (but failed). now we fast forward years later for season 4 and shes actively leaning on steve !!! seeking his comfort !! yet shes also standing her ground, doing what she believes is right (even if shes wrong). and STEVE !! he failed her in season 1, he refuses to fail her again in 4 :((

now bugs whole "hey gang lets focus on max not me haha" will cause a few rifts within the group - everyone knows its unneeded, they all hate shes doing this, but they also know that they cant change bugs mind. its very bittersweet and :///

max and bug ,,, u Get It. they ARE reflections of one another. max is fifteen, same age bug was in season 1. its very very very reminiscent of how bug was back then, stubborn and slightly cold but still so full of love and concern for her friends. max is where bug was, confused and scared and unused to asking (or accepting) help. bug sees this and she also is struggling with this. theyve always had a close relationship, but billys death changed everything and brought them closer together. bug feels a kinship to max, she feels responsible for her, and max knows this and almost resents her for it. its messy and very sad and hard and me not changing canon too much will make things even MORE heartbreaking and sad :(

but on a happier note: YES STEVE AND BUG DO ACTUALLY TALK !!! they have a whole lovely conversation later (in the very last ep lmao) that resolves a Lot i promise guys theyre end game i just like drama and growth.

in my life <333