#//might be back on tomorrow after work ^^

[cameronsbabydoll]

BASIC TRAINING — CHAPTER THREE

WARNINGS — invasion of privacy, diary-reading without consent, possessive male POV, inner obsession, implied virginity, age gap dynamics, inappropriate fantasies, minor delusion/grooming-adjacent thoughts, manipulation (anything italicized is what’s written in the diary!)

You didn’t even realize you’d dropped it.

That’s the funniest part. Funniest to him, at least.

You were walking too fast across the courtyard. Flustered again. Maybe it was because Rafe had called you sweetheart with that slow drawl, lingering on the “s,” right in front of three privates. You stammered through a hello, eyes darting everywhere but him, clutching your bag like a shield.

He watched you walk off.

And then he saw it — a slim pink notebook, barely thicker than a pamphlet, slipped from your tote and dropped behind you like a breadcrumb.

You didn’t hear it. Didn’t turn around.

Just kept walking.

So now it’s his.

He finds it ten seconds later, thumb brushing the soft cover like it might burn. You’d doodled a little sun in the corner. One of the loops is dotted with a heart. The name you wrote inside?

First name only. Bubbly handwriting. Like a schoolgirl.

He flips to the first page and grins.

“Summer Goals ☀️💕”

— swim more

— read 5 books

— learn how to french braid my hair

— kiss someone (REAL kiss!)

— fall in love

— try wine or beer!

— say no without feeling bad

— be brave

Rafe lets out a low breath. One part humor. One part something else.

God, you’re even softer than he thought.

You want to fall in love. Kiss someone. Try wine or beer.

He wonders if you think all those things will happen in one night. If you still believe in movie endings and fireworks and a guy showing up with flowers.

You’re doomed.

He flips further.

You’ve used it like a diary. You don’t date the pages. Just talk to yourself. Or maybe talk to someone. The kind of someone you wish existed. The kind of man who listens. The kind of man who stays.

“Saw him again today.

He called me sweetheart. I shouldn’t like it, but I do.

He looks at me like he knows things I don’t. It makes me feel dumb. But also kind of… not dumb? Like I want to know what he knows?”

Rafe shifts on the bench.

His grip tightens.

You’re writing about him.

Not a crush. Not a passing observation. You feel something. He’s getting in your head already and you don’t even know it.

You’re still so fucking clueless.

He turns the page.

“My dad would kill me. If he knew what I was thinking…

It’s not even bad! I just. I don’t know.

I want someone to touch me.

Not like that!! I mean. Okay maybe like that. But not gross. Like… soft. Gentle.

I want to know what it feels like to be wanted.”

He leans back against the wall. The notebook drops into his lap.

It takes a full sixty seconds before he even breathes.

You’ve never even been touched. Not really.

You’re writing about your own fantasies like they’re foreign concepts. You don’t even know how it works. You’re scared of it. Confused. Hoping someone will take the guesswork out of it.

And Rafe? He’d do it without a fucking second thought.

But not soft. Not gentle.

He wants you ruined.

Wants you to forget every boy you ever dreamed about because he made you come harder than any of them ever could.

He wants to be your first. And only.

The next page pushes it further.

“I think he’s older. He must be. He looks like he’s seen a lot.

But I like that. I think I want that. Someone who can take care of me. Who already knows what he’s doing.

Someone who knows how to tell me what to do.”

He closes the notebook, fast. Like it’ll melt his palms if he doesn’t.

This isn’t about teasing anymore.

This isn’t even about baiting you.

This is about possession.

You already want the thing he planned to take.

He slides the book into his pocket. He’ll return it. Eventually. Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe after he reads it again.

Maybe after he’s jacked off to the words “tell me what to do” while moaning your name into his fist.

You knock on his office door the next morning.

He’s not surprised. You’re flustered. Lip bitten. Crimson on your cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” he drawls, opening the door wider. “You look like you lost a puppy.”

You blink up at him, embarrassed. “I—I think I dropped my notebook yesterday. I was just wondering if…”

“Notebook, huh?”

He moves slowly to the desk. Opens a drawer.

Pulls it out with a casual shrug.

“This one?”

Your eyes light up. You nod, stepping forward to take it—but he doesn’t let go.

He watches you.

Tilts his head. Then slowly, very deliberately, presses it into your hands. His fingers brush your wrists.

“You should be more careful with your private thoughts, sweetheart,” he says low. “Never know who might be reading.”

You freeze.

He smiles.

And then he walks away.

You flip through it later. Nothing’s changed. Nothing missing.

But somehow… something feels different.

You can’t explain it.

The pages feel heavier. The air between your fingers charged. You catch yourself wondering—just for a second—if he meant something else. If he read—

No. No, he wouldn’t.

Would he?

That night, Rafe sits outside on the barrack steps.

His boots are dusty. His knuckles bruised. He smells like gasoline and aftershave and heat.

And he’s smiling.

Because you’re so, so clueless.

And he’s so, so patient.

But not for much longer.

[bebethsas]

well, I mean...that's kinda what happens

how do you get into writing:

you open your eyes and take your first-ever breath post-birth, that's how. ORRRRR, one day you're smacked over the head with the hammer of Inspiration, and it all snowballs from there.

some people are born with it, and some people receive it as an unexpected gift, and some people are born with it and don't realize it until that unexpected gift shows up.

but it's important to remember:

writing--like with most things you want--is like love. You'll never find it if you chase after what you think you want.

you want to be a good writer? Start writing. Keep writing. Write until you run out of words. Take a break, come back to it. Take time off, focus on other things, come back to it. You don't like how you phrased this sentence? Well, what do you think would make it better? You don't know? Well, how have other people (whose work you enjoyed) written it? What did you like about it? Remind yourself that no one is perfect, that building a skill takes time, that even if you don't like what you wrote today, there is still a possibility that you will like what you write tomorrow. Continue to write. Share it with no one. Share it with a close, trusted friend. Share it on your blog. Share it with your pet. Pay attention in English/writing class in school (you need to start with the basics, then branch out). Read, read, READ (you learn so much just from reading). Read novels, read classics, read fanfics, read snippets. Develop opinions, write them down. Take notes.

save all of your drafts. Rewrite the same scene in different ways; pick which version you like more, or find a way to mesh your favorite bits--across different versions--together.

you want to be famous, or renowned for what you create? You want to be a famous author? A legend? A trailblazer? To have the glory? If you focus solely on that, then you won't make it. You need to write first, the fame and glory and renown, etc. might come after. But if you're too focused on the potential reward at the end, then you'll never reach it, b/c you're too busy daydreaming and staring up at the clouds to pay attention to the staircase you need to build to reach them. And if you do make it, then you most likely won't be satisfied or happy (you won't be happy becuase you're chasing after a mutable concept that is always unattainable).

point is: you're born with it, or you're given it, or a bit of both. You can't force yourself to be a writer if at least a part of you isn't into it.

“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Seven) (18+) / SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 7.3k / navigation / inbox / summer of series

A/N: a second spring fling update in 2 weeks??? and a long one???? we're so back, baby. this one's juicyyy i hope you like it >:) <3 day two is finished! thank you for sticking around and being patient with me, and I hope you enjoy :) <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You hadn’t exactly tuckered yourself out while mini-golfing, but you’d certainly exhausted your brain and your emotions while thinking through the sunset with Jake, so you’re eager to get your hands on a drink. 

It’s late, past what you’d normally call dinnertime, but not late enough to sleep after getting buzzed. Your only hope is the bar food, and you wonder if you’ll be able to choke down garlic knots after downing three drinks. That’s your plan for the night- three, no more, and hopefully no less. Three is the magic number, the one that will make you forget about your inner turmoil while still leaving you conscious enough to remember the night’s events tomorrow. You’re not the biggest fan of blacking out, but you’re glad you’re with Jake if you do.

You’re snacking on appetizers during your first drink, letting Daniel hand-feed you mozzarella sticks during your second, and by the third and final drink you’d planned for the night, you’re clumsily locking hands and arms with Danica, whirling around the small square of tiles they’re calling a dance floor. You’re whooping, cheering, and laughing as each of you stumble around each other, but you’re having fun, far more thrilling fun than you’ve had thus far and it’s pleasing your buzzed brain to not be thinking.

Jake’s tried to inject some Texan flair into your dancing, seizing the opportunity to teach you what he swears up and down is a ‘simple’ line dance when Fake ID begins blaring over the speakers. 

You think he’s full of shit.

It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen Footloose, you’re no Julianne Hough.

You and Danica both decide that the footwork is too difficult in your inebriated states, and your shoes just don’t click on the floor when Jake’s do, no matter how hard you try. Although, that might have something to do with how distracting he is, swinging his hips around while turning on his heels, extra pronounced to show you how it’s done.

Not that you’ve been looking at his hips moving, and if you have, it’s totally the drinks’ fault. And it’s especially their fault that- not that, if, it looks good.

You’re enjoying the atmosphere of the bar much more tonight than you were last night, which you feel guilty for, because Daniel had been a dream not even 24 hours ago. But things seem more solid now, more real, more comfortable despite your two left feet.

You’re not sure how, because your entire perception of Jake is widening, deepening, shifting. But one of the perks of being stuck together for years in a work environment where your lives depend on each other is that you happen to trust him, at least a little. 

He might not be the first person you’d choose for this particular endeavor, or the second, or the third, and maybe he wouldn’t have even been the last, before Danica had gotten to you, but you know you can fall back on at least being his friend while you’re trying to rhythmically peel your shoes off of the sticky floor of a bar.

Your brain had been buzzing with uncertainties last night, would Daniel kiss you, when would Daniel kiss you, how would Daniel kiss you, would it be as good as it was in the elevator, but here and now, you can predict Jake’s every move, even if Danica swears there’s new meaning behind it.

“No, darlin’, that’s not- that’s not it.” Jake shakes his head, and the speakers nearly drown him out as he studies your form, “You’re trying to jump, all you need to do is pick one foot up. It looks fancy ‘cause you’re turnin’ too, but it’s just one foot up and a spin, then you’re landing on the raised foot and doing the same with the opposite side.”

He demonstrates, and you stare blankly.

“Like this.�� He offers, reaching for your waist with both hands, “Right foot up, heel against the floor.”

You let him shimmy your hips into position, and prop your heel up against the linoleum.

“Good. Now step back this way with the other foot,” He instructs, tugging at your hips, “And you’re gonna turn yourself to the right. Quarter-turn-” He calls, when you give it all you’ve got and nearly end up backwards, “Just a quarter-turn, darlin’. And then you’ve gotta come back the way you came, do it all this way. Left foot now, kick-ball-change.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying!” You yell to be heard over the music, your shoe slamming against the floor when you nearly lose your balance trying to imitate Jake’s impressive footwork, “Jake, I don’t think I’m made for line dancing!”

“You’re not.” Jake concludes, his voice deepening as he watches you try to keep pace with the song, but it’s useless when the last chorus ends and the music dies down, “But that doesn't mean we can’t try again.”

“The song’s over.” You point out, out of breath and grateful for the single second of silence before the next one plays, “I guess I’ll never learn.”

“I’ve got it on my phone.” Jake informs you, “And if we aren’t gonna have sex we’ve gotta be gettin’ some other exercise. You and me, darlin’, line dance drills first thing in the morning.”

You stuff your face into Danica’s bare shoulder, the strapless cut of her dress giving you a perfect expanse of skin to groan into. She laughs and you feel it where your nose is pressed into her neck- her perfume’s really nice. Elegant but sweet, something you’d want as an air freshener hanging from your rearview mirror.

You rest there, feeling her hand make contact with your waist as she tucks you against her. You sway slowly to the much more subdued song over the speakers, something about love and marriage and babies in the carriage. 

You remember last night’s haze- as much as your brain allows, and you recall being spun in a barstool by Daniel. You’d enjoyed it at the time, but this slow dance doesn’t make you nearly as dizzy, which you give Danica a point for. 

Perhaps a scoreboard would help you figure out what to do here?

Your head’s no longer in the clouds from Daniel’s allure, but thanks to your drinks your feet aren’t firmly on the ground anymore, either.

It’s actually Danica that lists sideways, but the way you’re pressed up against her means that you lean into it instead of against it, and the both of you tumble with startled yelps. You’re not so far gone that you don’t know you’re falling, but you’re too tipsy to balance yourself, and you resign yourself to breaking your nose against the dance floor as you fall for the second time in 24 hours.

Deja vu is not being kind to you on this cruise.

Danica goes down first, and you’re both lucky that Jake is there to chase after you, because he manages to lunge and slip his hand beneath her head before she can crack it against the tile, and he winds up clutching your back to his chest, keeping you upright against his own body. He’s hovering over Danica on the floor, one hand beneath her head and the other wrapped around your middle. It seems almost effortless, the way he keeps you upright, and you find that none of your weight is resting on your feet with the way they’re limply resting on the ground between Jake’s own. You’re just- hanging there, saved by Jake’s strong arms. You can see muscles bulging in his forearms as he tries keeping his center of gravity grounded without dropping either of you, but Daniel’s made his way over by now, mere seconds too late to catch you, and takes Danica’s head from Jake’s palm.

“I got it.” Daniel mumbles, neutral as a combination of gruff to Jake and crooning to Danica. She looks just as shocked as you are at your sudden change of perspective, and she lets Daniel haul her up into a seated position, resting her weight against his side.

“Jesus. You two can’t handle the damn dance floor.” Jake pants, his breath puffing against your ear as he straightens up. He’d been crouched over, and you’re impressed that he’d been able to stay upright himself with the way he’d hung onto your languid form, practically dangling you from his chest.

“Are you okay?” Daniel ducks to meet Danica’s glassy gaze, his voice soft and his eyes concerned. 

She nods, scrubbing a hand over her eyes, “I think so. Jake- did you catch me?”

“I hope I did. Does your head hurt?” He frowns, and now that you’ve remembered how to use your feet again, you attempt to. You stand, trying to squirm out of his hold around your midsection but he doesn’t let go, only squeezing you tighter to his chest like a silent reprimand.

“Jake-” You grunt, trying to pry his hand off of your waist but he swats you away, eyes still worriedly locked on Danica.

“No, it doesn’t hurt.” She decides, “I’m just dizzy. And- um, a little sick.”

Daniel moves much quicker this time, standing and bending over to meet her instead of having his entire body in the splash zone, “Can you make it to the bathroom? Or do you want to just sit for a while and see if it passes?”

She swallows experimentally, and grimaces, “Bathroom. Please.”

“I can take her,” You offer, but Jake’s other hand flies to your waist now, and he manhandles you around to face him. You nearly lose your balance again when he spins you, and you’re so intimidated by Jake’s eyes staring directly into your own that you don’t feel steady despite your feet being on the ground.

“Wait. What about you?” He asks, peering into your eyes like he’ll find signs of a concussion in them, “Did you hit anything?”

His scrutiny reminds you of earlier in the pool, when your bikini had come untied and you’d seen genuine concern from Jake for one of the first times in your life, unmarred by amusement, scorn, or his ego. It had been raw, real, and you see the near-permanent cocky glaze clear from his eyes like clouds drifting away from the sprawling light of the sun. Underneath is Jake, really, truly Jake, and you don’t know how to act when you find yourself met with nothing but sincerity.

“I’m fine.” You manage, your protests melting into a feeble hand on his wrist, not pulling, not pushing, just holding, “Jake, you can- you can let me go, I’m okay.”

He takes a breath, then releases the pressure on your waist, but his hands don’t lower and yours doesn’t drop from his. You stay there for a moment, by choice, and then a soft groan comes from Danica and you remember there’s things going on outside of whatever vortex you and Jake had been sucked into just now. The music comes flooding back into your senses, you remember you’re standing in the sticky remains of dozens of spilled drinks on the dance floor, and Daniel’s eyes on you and Jake blaze, not warm like Jake’s sun but scorching, burning, painful.

Jake drags his hands off of your hips and your arm falls back to your side.

“Come on,” Your voice is almost shaky, something weak and frail as you let Danica drape herself over your shoulders, “It’s not that far to the bathroom. You think you can make it?”

She nods, but her response is more of a grunt than anything else. You feel for her- there’s nausea roiling in your own gut from where Jake had inadvertently squeezed your stomach.

You help her move slowly and carefully into the bathroom, trudging under her weight as she rests her face in the crook of your neck. It’s comforting, but now you’re marveling even more at how Jake had kept you both suspended, your tired limbs sluggish and struggling to hold another person’s weight.

Jake hadn’t been knocking back drinks like you had, but you have to hand it to him; he’s got military muscles.

Jake watches carefully as you and Danica cross the threshold of the bathroom, feeling the same urge to barge in as he had the night prior. This all feels like a time loop, where each day gets more confusing and complicated than the last. Same bar, same people, same drinks, but wildly different feelings in the air.

He wonders if Danica’s advice has been paying off- sure, you’d been receptive enough on the golf course, but he’s unfamiliar with doing anything but needling you, and trying to puzzle out your reactions to things while also engaging in an entirely new set of behaviors is a lot for him to handle.

He wishes he could read your mind.

This cruise gives him the opportunity of a lifetime. It’s an isolated environment that encourages sex without complications and people he’s never going to see again in his life-

Except for you.

Of course you’re here too. 

Of course he couldn’t have just taken Coyote’s advice in peace, of course he couldn’t have gotten away from all the buzz of the San Diego port and fucked his feelings out on some random woman, using her as an outlet for all of his conflicting feelings on getting older and settling down. He’s in his thirties trying to live at twenty-one, used to the bachelor life but watching all of his friends get married and have kids right before his eyes. Each one is a wake up call, and waking up to a stranger in his bed opens a chasm beneath his heart that he digs deeper every time.

And it doesn’t help that he’s found himself drawn to you. At a time he’d have called you enemies or rivals, and even just a day before this cruise he would have described your relationship as something pitted against him. But you’re his favorite to mess with, you’re the one whose side he drifts to unconsciously, even if it’s just to knock you around by your helmet, and he slides into a comfortable routine of giving you a hard time every time you work together. Perhaps it was born out of contempt or jealousy but as he’s grown, shifted, deepened, it’s become something he does by default. The actions have stayed the same but the man has changed, and Danica’s suggestion that the actions may have to change along with the man thrusts Jake into highly uncomfortable territory.

No one has ever called Jake Seresin a vulnerable man, and giving anyone the opportunity to do so now makes him feel like he’s spinning out behind the controls.

Luckily for him, an agitating snarl comes from over his left shoulder to oh-so-kindly snap him out of his reverie.

“Are you just gonna stand there and wait for them to come back?” Daniel asks, his voice rough and jagged, “You can relax- they don’t need their guard dog right now.”

Jake turns, his face hardening into the smirk he wears so often, “Well staying alert was what just saved the day, wasn’t it? I noticed you didn’t get there in time.”

Daniel’s eyes flash dangerously, something steely in them that Jake notices every time something interferes with his faux-chivalry.

“You know what else I noticed? I think you’ve got a problem with me.” Jake pushes, edging into Daniel’s space like he’s practiced with dozens of opponents before. His signature move- push just far enough to get the other person to start the fight.

“Now is it the height,” Jake inches forwards, looking down at Daniel with his shoulders squared, “Or the muscles?” He doesn’t even have to accentuate those, “Or, is it that you thought you were gonna be gettin’ it on with two women tonight, and it’s looking like you’re down to none?”

“She doesn’t like you,” Daniel seethes, “Neither of them do.”

And maybe he hits his mark, maybe it’s ‘like’ instead of ‘want’- love instead of sex - maybe it’s the way he believes what he says, the conviction in his tone and in his tensed shoulders, but Jake bristles, jaw tightening and muscles tensed.

“You’re a cocky, self-centered, arrogant douchebag,” Daniel declares, “And that persona’s a dime a dozen straight out of high school. She wants- she deserves something better than that. She deserves someone better than you. A real man, not some frat boy who thinks one smirk can win him whoever he wants. And even if you manage to ‘get her’, even if you wear her down and coerce her into giving you what you want,” Daniel exhales heavily, reminding Jake of a stubborn, vicious bull, seeing red in the apples of Jake’s cheeks, “You’ll have to live the rest of your life knowing you made hers worse.”

Jake’s only silent for a few seconds, and then his voice is lower and more dangerous than it’s ever been, “Get out of my face before I knock your teeth out, son.”

“You know I’m right. And that’s why you’re mad,” Daniel goads, unafraid of Jake even if he should be, which is infuriating to the hotheaded pilot in and of itself. Jake leans forwards, fist itching, begging to drive itself into Daniel’s jaw but he restrains himself with the last shred of his self-control as Daniel keeps running his mouth, “You’re learning for the first time ever that some women won’t spread their legs for you just ‘cause you ask, and that you might actually have to care about them.”

“I do care about her!” Jake snaps, nearly shouting now, and the last thing on his mind is whether he’s drawing a crowd or not. It’s all-out, here and now, Jake vs. Daniel, onlookers be damned.

“No you don’t. You care about sex. You care about getting laid and you care about winning.” Daniel’s chest heaves, and Jake feels that almost insatiable itch to cock a fist back and slam it into Daniel’s nose so hard it breaks, “She told me that last night. She’s too good for you, man.” Daniel warns, the sneer on his face so disgusted you’d think Jake was a slug he’d trodden on in the middle of the sidewalk, “And whether you admit it or not, it’s true. Whether she forgets it or not, it’s true. So do whatever you want, fuck her or don’t,” Daniel scoffs, “But you’ll never deserve her.”

The only reason Jake doesn’t knock his teeth loose right then and there is because Daniel’s had the good sense to step back a few feet, and compose himself like he’s not about to fight back. There’s a few wary onlookers who eye them cautiously, edging away from the pair just in case they snap, but Jake’s not stupid- he doesn’t start fights, he wins them. He falls into old habits, abandoning sight of what the ‘new Jake’ would do and goading, smirking, pushing.

“And you do? You deserve her?”

“Maybe not. But I do more than you do.” Daniel’s clenched fist comes to rest on the back of one of the barstools, “And even she knows that.”

“It don’t matter what you think we’re worth.” Jake scoffs, breathing heavily, “She decides what she wants. Now who’s trying to win?”

“I am winning!” Daniel seethes, his voice roaring over the music as his fist slams into the upholstered cushion, “Just because neither of us have had sex yet doesn’t mean we’ve lost! All you’ve done so far is stepped on people’s toes and bullied your way into every conversation Y/N has with anyone. You think that’s attractive? She wants a real man, and you’re not one.”

“For once,” Jake narrows his eyes at Daniel, slits that ooze contempt and disgust, “I ain’t trying to win. And seeing you throw another one of your little temper tantrums about it makes me glad I’m not the man I was five years ago. If that’s what I looked like,” Jake spits, “No wonder she doesn’t wanna trust me now. But the difference is, Daniel, that one of us is changin’, and the other one’s punching a hole in a barstool because he’s coming in second.”

“Stay away from her.” 

Jake laughs, a dangerous sound that he hopes Daniel takes as a warning, “No, asshole. You stay away from her. I mean it. She may deserve better than me,” Jake breathes, his jaw clenched firmly, “But whatever that is, it’s not you.”

If Danica hadn’t let out a weak, slightly wet cough from the door to the bathroom, Daniel would have lunged at Jake. But he doesn’t, and they turn to watch you shuffling out with Danica still draped over your shoulder.

“She wants to go to bed,” You glance warily at Daniel, “Just- don’t jostle her too much. Walk slow and don’t take the elevators.”

“Come here.” Daniel hums, hoisting Danica’s limp form off of your frame and cradling her in his own, “Are you feeling dizzy still?”

“Just from the drinks.” She nods, “And- sick. But nothing more than that. I should have eaten better before this.”

Jake hums sympathetically, and you feel your own near-empty stomach roil in indignation that you’d sicced liquor on it before food. Nothing sounds good now, not that you’re full of alcohol, but eating will be better than not eating, so you let yourself drift to Jake’s side and wait for him to notice you.

When he does, his entire focus shifts, and he cranes his neck downwards slightly to peer at you closer, “You okay?”

“Fine. Just- a little sick, too.” You admit, “Can we get something to eat?”

“Of course.” Jake nods, his hand flying to the small of your back whether consciously or not.

“We could all go,” Daniel offers, but the way he leans towards you makes Danica whine in discomfort as her head spins. He’s quick to correct it, but you shake your head at his offer.

“No, she needs to get to bed. Do you want us to bring you something later?” You offer, “We can ask for to-go boxes.”

“You can order room service.” Jake grins, a sneer in intention but not by looks, “Danica, honey, feel better.”

“Thank you.” She croaks, and Jake’s hand around your waist tugs you pointedly towards the door.

You try throwing Daniel and Danica apologetic looks, but you’re dragged out of the bar too quickly.

You feel irritation rising in your chest at Jake, something he’d been getting good at not triggering in you for the last couple hours. You side-eye him, but you let him continue leading you to the elevators instead of wrenching yourself out of his grasp, “That was rude, Jake.”

“He’s rude.” Jake states, his eyes forward and refusing to meet yours, “You didn’t hear what he was saying about you while you were in the bathroom.”

Your brows furrow, and when you enter the thankfully-empty elevator, you turn to face him instead of standing by his side, “About me? What did he say?”

“The kinda thing I would’ve said a few years ago.” Jake frowns, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that’s meant to come off as lazy but really just shows his tensed muscles.

“That bad?” You laugh nervously, trying to diffuse the tension while being eaten alive by your own nerves. Daniel? Sweet, perfect, caring- okay, slightly complicated and anger-prone Daniel? 

24 hours ago you’d have called Jake a liar. Now you notice the stiffness in his jaw as he gnaws on the inside of his cheek and wonder how many times he’s tried to tell you something and you’ve assumed he was messing with you.

“What do you want for dinner?” You try, and he glances carefully at you where you stand across from him. Apparently he appreciates that you’ve dropped the subject, because his shoulders deflate slightly.

“I don’t know what’s open.” He checks his watch, finding the hour a little too late if the wrinkling of his nose is any indication, “The restaurants stop taking reservations after 7. And all that’s left is fast food and ice cream. We might have to order room service.”

The thought of gorging on half-cold room service beside Jake, crammed into the same bed while trying desperately not to touch each other, makes your stomach hurt worse. There’s too many things happening, too many things to think about, and you regret having stopped yourself at three cocktails.

“I want another drink,” You groan, leaning against the wall behind you as the elevator climbs steadily towards the top decks, the ones with the most food service, “Can we go to the buffet?”

--

The buffet is closed, but the bar is not. Drink number four wasn’t planned, but neither were the revelations you’ve been having, and taking care of Danica had really sobered you up. You’re in need of a good old-fashioned margarita, and once you’ve got one in your hands you let Jake parade you around the pool’s deck, peering at menus to quick-service restaurants that are already closed for the night.

“Wings?” You ask, but the kiosk is closed.

“We could do sushi.” Jake offers, but the neon sign is no longer lit.

It’s several twists and turns to investigate every little storefront, and several sips of your margarita to bring back your buzz, but it quickly becomes apparent that there’s only one sign left lit this late at night.

“I guess it’s pizza. Again.” Jake hums, “Is that gonna be okay on your stomach?”

“It’s fine. It’s still better than room service.” You have visions of reheated buffet food, “Let’s just get different toppings and pretend we didn’t have this six hours ago.”

What you decide on is veggie, hoping that the bell peppers and greens might do something kind to your stomach even if they’re soaked in grease from the cheese and bread beneath them.

You beeline for the table you’d sat at earlier as a party of four, but Jake catches your elbow and drags you closer to the edge of the deck.

“Let’s look at the water,” He urges, “Now that the lounge chairs aren’t all taken.”

“We should-” You start unsteadily, having chugged half of your drink in order to not spill it while balancing your pizza as well, “We should get up really early tomorrow to get a spot.”

“Tomorrow we’ll be docked,” Jake reminds you, “We can go to a beach instead of a tiny swimming pool.”

“Oh, right.” You hum, cramming pizza into your mouth to soothe the ache in your stomach, “What are you gonna do once we get off the ship?”

“We can try some excursions,” Jake shrugs, folding his pizza in half so that it doesn’t droop, “The website said something about a golf cart tour, and snorkeling off the coast, if you wanna do that.”

“You don’t have to do everything with me, y’know.” You hum, onions leaving a bitter taste on your tongue, “If you want to do something you don’t have to do it with me.”

He rears back, faux-offended, “Yeah? And what if I want to?”

“Then we can,” You chuckle, “Just- don’t let me hold you back more than I already am.”

He’d been raising his pizza to his mouth to take a bite, but he stops short and watches you instead of eating. You’re turned towards the sea, stray hairs blowing around your face as the nighttime wind pushes across the deck. He’s not sure what you’re seeing in the waves, but probably something induced by your mostly-empty margarita.

“You’re not holding me back.” He hums, soft and low, “I like doing stuff with you. Remember? You’re fun sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” You nod, “Right. Well, I’m just letting you know.”

“I know.” Jake assures you, nudging his knee into yours, “And if I’m ever- y’know, too pushy? You can tell me to kick rocks and eat-”

“Dolphins!” You shriek.

“Dolphins?” Jake’s brows furrow, “Why would I eat- oh. Dolphins.”

You’re pointing frantically off the side of the deck, and Jake quickly maneuvers himself onto your lounge chair to grab you from behind before you can launch yourself over the railing. There is, in fact, a pod of dolphins beside the boat, weaving over and under each other, breaching the surface to showcase their silvery skin that glints in the moonlight. The rational part of Jake’s brain suggests that they’re feeding off of any sea life being churned up by the boat’s trajectory, but the margarita part of your brain seems to think they’ve come to show off for you. 

“Jake, look!” You gush, enthused, and then your ass is in his face.

Jake’s eyes widen when you prop yourself up on all fours, your knees now grating against the rough mesh of the lounge chair as you lean even further over the railing. It puts your ass right at eye-level, and the shorts you’re donning are loose enough that they offer him a rather salacious view of what’s beneath them. He tears his eyes away as soon as his brain comes back to him, even if he feels a rush of blood travel south. In order to stop you from tumbling he has to stand and grab you, rolling onto his own knees on instinct to grab hold of your shoulders and hoist you upright. It means that your ass is firmly, snugly flush with Jake’s crotch, and you don’t seem to notice because you’re too caught up in the dolphins swimming beside the boat.

“Jesus, please don’t fall.” He begs, his lips beside your ear as the wind blows cold against both of your faces.

“I won’t fall! But look, they’re jumping!”

Jake ensures you’re secure in his grip before peering down over the railing, and it really is a sight to behold. There must be five dolphins visible, jumping and diving through the churning water caused by the boat’s motor. They’re not vocalizing much, but every once in a while a click or a screech floats up on the ocean breeze and Jake hears you laugh the way that only someone who’s had four cocktails in a row can laugh.

As nervous as he is that you were going to plummet into the sea, he can appreciate the way you’re leaning into the wind and watching the dolphins below. You’re genuinely excited, something he hasn’t seen on this trip so far, and rarely gets to see on the tarmac. He catches a glimpse of your eyes when you turn your head to watch a dolphin to your left, and they’re shining like the moonlight is on the water. He doesn’t miss the way you melt into him, either, and he’ll take credit for this one instead of letting the liquor.

You let him hold you around the middle, though he’s sure you haven’t noticed that you’re nearly grinding against him when you stick your ass out to lean further over the railing. He’s trying really valiantly not to let himself be affected by this, but he’s fairly certain that at least half of something is going on downstairs from physical stimulation alone. Hopefully it won’t be visible when you pull away, and if it is, hopefully you won’t notice.

“This is like,” You start, your voice nearly lost to the wind as you face away from Jake, “-that scene in Titanic.”

You throw your arms out, and Jake has no problem curling his further around your belly.

“I’ve never seen it.” He admits, shouting to be heard over the noise of the ship and the whipping of the breeze.

“Me neither!” You laugh, and you fall back against him, nearly knocking him off of the chair altogether.

“Hey!” He yelps, but he’s laughing when you squirm at the way his fingers dig into your side momentarily. You’re not a fan of being tickled, and he knows this from painstakingly earned experience, (a kick to the balls), but he tests a few gentle squeezes at your side to get you giggling again.

“Stop! Stop,” You gush, laughing and panting, and he does, his fingers stilling on your waist. He’s on his butt now, with your weight against him, and he reclines the wrong way against the lounge chair to let you rest comfortably.

“That pizza was cold.” You muse, “But it did help. I don’t feel as sick anymore.”

“That’s good. Drinking on an empty stomach,” Jake scoffs, “Are you trying to black out?”

“Kind of.” You admit, your voice taking a quiet, somber turn, “I’ve had… a lot to think about, recently.”

Jake nods slowly, carefully, “Yeah. Me too.”

“And you’re not drinking about it?” You crane your neck to chance a glance back at him, that shimmer in your eyes dulled but not gone, “You’re braver than I am, Jake.”

“No, I’m smarter than you are.” He teases, “Someone has to make sure we don’t fall over the side of the deck.”

“I wasn’t gonna fall!” You whine, “You’re so dramatic. And besides, that’s not fair. I should take a turn being sober so that you can drink.”

“You should, Miss Margarita.” Jake agrees, “Just don’t let me get too smashed before snorkeling tomorrow, okay? I don’t want to try and befriend a stingray.”

You giggle at the imagery, your cheeks flushed and hot where they brush against his bicep briefly. Your grin is toothy and infectious, carefree from the liquor and- dare he say love.

Not for him, of course, or- not like that for him, it’s just that he’d like to think that eight years by your side constitutes some feelings of fondness towards him, and that maybe you could perhaps, possibly say it’s love. Even if it’s completely platonic. Just- you could use the word love, probably.

He wishes he was drunk.

“We should go to bed.” You hum, sounding almost sad, “I’m tipsy and I want to be up early tomorrow for the excursions. We can beat the morning rush and get a head start on exploring.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He lets your waist go as you stand from his grip, righting himself after you’ve proved yourself steady on your feet. You gather your trash slowly but surely, and you only miss your shot at the garbage can with one balled-up napkin stained with copious amounts of pizza grease.

Neither of you say anything about the way his hand gravitates towards your waist again while he’s walking you back towards the elevators. Maybe it’s because you’re too buzzed to have a meaningful conversation, or maybe it’s because he’s doing a good enough job at pretending it’s just so that you don’t tip over again. Whatever the reason, Jake’s grateful for it when you pass by a closed piano lounge, and the tune of your favorite song makes its muffled way through the doors.

“Jake,” You breathe, that same shining excitement in your eyes as before, “I love this song.”

“I know. You put it on in the car every time we drive somewhere,” He grins, letting the hand on your waist serve as a leader as the other grasps at one of your hands, “You’re into them cheesy love songs, aren’t’cha?”

“Not all of us can be line dancers, cowboy.” You inform him smartly, your feet a slight second out of tune with your brain as you begin a slow, clumsy waltz. You reach for his shoulder, letting your other hand melt into his own,“Some of us enjoy the quiet things in life.”

Jake’s never been quiet for a second. He’d ridden saddle bronc in rodeos since he was old enough to, and even then he’d refused to use the smaller, more tame horses that they’d offered him. No, he wanted the biggest, the meanest, the best, and he’s always tried emulating those same characteristics so that no one can ever tame him.

But here, now, you’re swirling him around outside of a closed bar, tipsy and dizzy, stumbling over his feet and your own alike. Your eyes are closed and your face is curved in a soft, serene smile, and he feels your grip on his shoulder loosen comfortably as you ease into a rhythm with him that you’d failed to achieve only hours prior.

Perhaps, like Danica had been suggesting, Jake’s fast-paced, cocky routine might have to wait for a slow dance first. Maybe you’d both be better off waltzing before grapevining, in case one of you twists an ankle or breaks a heart. 

Maybe he needs to appreciate the quiet things in life, if you’re willing to share them with him.

Your nose nestles into his neck at some point, and he feels your breath puff warm down the front of his shirt. Your arm is draped lazily over his shoulder now, not a grip but a presence all the same, your fingers ghosting feather-light over the nape of his neck. It tingles, gives him the urge to shudder but he doesn’t dare, not now that you’re sighing against him and swaying like you’re dancing at a ball animated by Disney.

He’s quiet, and so are you.

When the song ends you keep humming lazily against the collar of his shirt. It takes a solid ten seconds and the beginning of the next song to realize that you’re not harmonizing with anything anymore, and your eyes flutter open as you lift your head from his shoulder.

You’re close.

Very close. 

Your nose nearly brushes his chin, and when he angles his face subtly, almost imperceptibly downwards, your lips are on a crash course. It’s a perfect trajectory, a little down for him and a little up for you. But you’re frozen in time, your eyes locking onto his and getting lost in what they reveal.

There’s vulnerability swirling in both of your gazes, and it’s so striking to see that you’re each rendered speechless. There’s nothing to say, there’s nothing that could properly convey your feelings on what’s happening to you both, there’s only your eyes and his, and your interlocked hands.

Then Jake sees something eerily close to stone cold, sober fear flash through your stare, and you slowly detach yourself from him.

Your hand slips out of his own, you step backwards to free your waist from his grip, and your hand is no longer raking through the wispy hairs on the back of his neck.

You step away, one foot at a time, and stare at him with that almost-petrified gaze, your chest heaving visibly.

Then your face falls into something more neutral, and you back towards the elevators, “We should go.”

“Right.” Jake murmurs, following behind you with lead feet that would very much like to stay planted right where they were a minute ago, with yours stepping all over them. But he follows, because he thinks he might be magnetized to you, even if sometimes you’re oppositely charged.

The elevator ride is silent and awkward. The type of silence that you thought was gone between you and Jake, the thick, tense kind that you’d suffered for years up until just hours prior.

Despite having years of experience sitting in heavy silence with Jake, this bout makes him feel like a stranger compared to the man you’d just been slow dancing with.

You’re sobered now, from the shock of being a second away from kissing him, and from staring at the floor in the elevator until it had dinged and let you out on your cabin’s floor. It gives you enough hand-eye coordination to dig your keycard out of your pocket, and you push first into your room, Jake hesitantly, silently on your trail.

You duck into the bathroom to change and Jake doesn’t tease you like he did yesterday. He doesn’t try to break in once, which is a comforting thing, but your reality check had reminded you that eight years of irritation can’t be solved in a few hours worth of chivalry.

Still, you’d had fun tonight. And you’d felt safe, secure- happy in Jake’s company, comfortable with his arm around your waist and giddy when he’d held you in his lap by the railing. Are you caving? Are you doing the one thing you’d sworn only a day prior to not do? Are you giving in and letting him win?

That’s why you’d stopped yourself. In that moment, you’d wanted nothing more than to press your lips to his and let your fingers sink into his hair, let his hands grope at your waist. And it scared you. You’d wanted to cave, to give in, to betray yourself, and all of the fear that had been momentarily silenced by Danica’s token live advice roils fiercely in your gut like liquor has been all night.

If he’s trying to win, you can’t lose. And he’s doing a good job at convincing you he’s not trying to win anymore, but old habits die hard. How can you be sure he’s not?

You stuff yourself numbly into a nightgown, the most chaste one you’d brought, and you avoid meeting Jake’s eye when you step out of the bathroom.

You’re reminded now, standing barefoot in the walkway, that there’s only one bed. Last night had been a blur, and you hadn’t woken even when Jake had changed you into your nightclothes. You’re still mortified about that, really, and remembering that you’re going to have to crawl into bed beside Jake, who’s already there waiting for you, doesn’t help.

“Um,” You start, your voice dull, “I’ll take the couch.”

“What?” He asks, trying to tamp down some of the brashness that typically inhabits his tone, “That’s silly. There’s enough room for the both of us.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t. I’d better-” You try, and he kicks the covers off of himself, standing and revealing that he’s once again wearing nothing but boxers.

“No, I’ll take it.” He mumbles, not surly, just subdued, “You can have the bed.”

“No, that’s not- that’s not fair.” You finally look at him, your eyes wounded and guilty, “Just- you take the bed.”

“Only if you do.” He looks similarly defeated, standing there in just his underwear, “C’mon, Y/N. You know I won’t do anything to you.”

And even despite the hesitation that had clawed at your heart only minutes ago, puncturing your lungs and making it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to stay, you do know that. Because it’s always been true of Jake; he’s cocky, but he’s not a monster. You knew it last night, and you know it tonight. So you cave, you give in, you betray yourself, and you trudge towards the side of the bed you’d been laid in last night.

You feel restless as Jake buries himself under the covers again, and you know sleep won’t come easy. So you keep yourself upright, lounging back on two pillows stacked behind your back and reaching for your book.

“Mind if I keep a light on?” You hum, and Jake shakes his head, peering at your book.

“Late-night reading?”

“Can’t sleep.” You admit, “I’m not even gonna try.”

He inhales- it’s an audible thing, not a gasp but a long, steadying breath. Then he lets it out, and you tug your book so close to your face that it obscures him from your vision.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He hums, his voice barely more than a whisper. You can’t see it, but he keeps himself turned towards you, studying the way your fingers twitch against the cover, wishing he could see the face obscured behind it.

You speak into the pages of your book, hoping your words get lost there, “Goodnight, Jake.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[retireddaddyric]

“Let’s go see the dolphins.”

Synopsis: Daniel and fem reader are in Malvides for their honeymoon. They are fire, him being the dominant part, she’s his baby. But one night..

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, S M U T (like a lot), age gap, soft bondage, degrading kink, dom/sub swing, fluff, romance, established relationship.

Notes: REQUESTED, this is fiction, I’m not a native English speaker, this doesn’t contain a single AI dot, worked on this with all my heart.

The day after our wedding we left for our honeymoon in Maldives.

Away from the world, just us.

When he turns his head I smirk at him and he grins. “Don’t.” He says chuckling while our hands are entwined. His steps are longer and I’m wearing heeled sandals that click on the wooden path that take us from the overwater luxury bungalow to the beach where our dinner table awaits us.

He hasn’t shaved in two weeks and his beard is very long for his usual self. But I don’t complain: he looks relaxed. And he deserves it after everything life threw at him in the last year.

“Your ass looks like a panettone in those linen trousers!” I say smugly.

I can feel his eyes roll while I look at the back of his head, the longer than usual curls.

“You heard me caveman? A panettone. You know that italian christmas sweet tha-“

“I know what a panettone is, I lived in Italy. But you can’t bodyshame me like that, I’m an old man after all.”

I giggle and loose the grip to his hand just to hug his waist from behind and kiss his shoulder blade from above the shirt. “What I meant is that those wide hips of yours make my knees weak.”

“I know.” He says in a nonchalant tone. Then he laughs and his arm reaches for my dress and he pulls at the fabric to push me ahead of himself. He smacks my ass playfully and I squeal, he winks. “Naughty girl.” He mutters when a couple a few meters ahead of us turn their heads to look at us.

I giggle adjusting my little white summer dress, the wedding band shining under the after sunset purple sky.

“Manhandling your little wife like that in public.. might create bad gossip.”

“Fuck the gossip, my wife is a sub.”

I gasp laughing. “Shut the fuck up.”

“You are, you have been one since forever.”

“In bedroom only.”

“In bedroom in particular.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

He throws his arm around my neck, his taller frame engulfing me completely, and he kisses the top of my head. That’s when I feel our age gap and I find it so cute.

We have the most perfect dinner at a white cloth covered table, with fancy dishes and candles, feet in the sand, him taking pictures of our joined hands displaying our wedding bands- no, he’ll never post them on Daniel.jpg because he doesn’t want you to know he’s a romantic.

We laugh to te point my flute drops to the sand and he spits the wine in his napkin: he’s a billionaire but we’re just two grown-up dirtbags.

At dessert time he steals two spoons of my red velvet cake - he said he didn’t want any when the suit wearing waiter asked him, with a white napkin on his arm that Daniel looked at with a frown. I told him it was for the saliva on his beard since he was drooling over his perfect wife.

After dinner we walked on the beach that we spent the whole day at before we went to shower and get ready for dinner. The warm sand and the starry sky above us are the perfect frame for a memory I will hold forever. We joke and talk about a boat trip we’re gonna do tomorrow to swim with dolphins.

“Dolphins have proper names, you knew that?”

“No shit.” He laughs but looks at me interested.

“I swear to god, each of make a unique sound so that when they have to call each other they make that exact sound.”

“You would ‘aaaaah Daniel’!” He makes a stupid moany sound that sounds a lot like when he eats me out and I hit his chest.

He laughs and says “I know a better one.”

“What.”

“Dolphins are I think the only animals that have sex not only to procreate but for pleasure too.”

“They’re not the only animals..”

“Yeah me too, but I was talking about dolphins.”

I laugh when I understand he got the joke before I could even say it. he laughs and grabs my waist. Kissing my neck from behind, squeezing my hips in his firm hands.

He presses his front at my ass and I smile closing my eyes. He’s already hard.

He licks the area underneath my earlobe and whispers hotly into my ear “Wanna be a good little dolphin?”

I burst out laughing and pull away. “Why would you say something like that in the middle of a horny act?”

He smirks not letting me go, instead his grip on my hips tightens. “You love it when I am a goofy shit.”

“I love you always.”

“Because I’m always goofy.”

“And shit.”

He barks, literally, and picks me up over his shoulder, slaps my ass and walks towards the wooden path to our overwater bungalow, making sure one of his hands covers my ass since it’s all on display. Cheers guests, I guess.

Inside the dimly lit apartment he throws me on the bed and grins looking down at me from the edge. “Here comes the best part of the honeymoon.” He says smiling.

“You’re saying you spent thousands to fuck me but you do that already weekly.”

“I’m saying I get to fuck you with the courtains moving in the wind and the sea waves in the background.” He says while he grabs my ankles and flips me effortlessly on my stomach.

“Hey wait.” I tell him while I stand on my knees but he pushes me back down again with a hand behind my neck, pushing my cheek on the mattress.

“No more waiting, I need to fuck the shit out of my dolphin.” He says pulling down my white lacy thong and exposing my wet folds to him. “Dripping dolphin I meant.” He says and spits on my pussy.

“Daniel!” I scold him but my voice is too husky to really sound like I am stopping him.

His fingers smears his saliva all over my dripping cunt and when he slaps it I jump letting out a moan.

He bites my asscheek crawling on bed behind me and that’s when I grab his shirt collar and push him. He falls on the floor and I jump on him straddling him and taking the string from my bathrobe that was discarded on the floor since the earlier shower.

He frowns “What the-“

I put it on his mouth, pushing it between his teeth and twist it around his head. His eyebrows shoot up but he lets me. I smirk.

His hands grab my thighs but I shake my head.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” I swat them away with mines. I grab the phone charger’s wire from the nightstand and he looks at me with a surprised questioning look. I tie his wrists together with it. He looks at me with smiling eyes, letting me, because, yeah, if he struggled only a little bit he could stop me without even using any effort.

When I smile proudly at my work I push his wrists up above his head.

“Keep them here.” I say in a low voice. He smirks and looks at me with challenge in his eyes. I know what he’s thinking - that I’ve learned a lot from him during these years of him tying me up to beds or various furnitures.

We never did this before, me taking control, we always thought it wasn’t in our nature, maybe it isn’t.

But something snapped inside me today when I saw him kneeling in the shower looking up at me with those big brown eyes. It was moments before he started barking orders but still, that fleeting moment tugged at my chest, it almost whispered into my head “tell him to put his hands behind his back and open his mouth”. I didn’t.

But fuck it, that thought stayed in the back of my head all evening, even when he stole food from my plate and I wanted to feed him myself.

I unbutton his beige shirt slowly, the grown hair of his chest coming to view. I open the fabric and slowly make my index nail trace a straight line that goes from his Adam apple down between his pecs, the middle of his sternum, his abs, his belly button, the happy trail that makes me go feral. I see his skin shivering. Good sign.

Then I grab his jaw firmly and whisper “Say you’re mine.”

“I.. I ahh yooh.” He’s gagged, he tries, looking me in the eyes.

“Louder.”

“Yooosh.” He says firmer.

I slap his cheek lightly and smirk. He thrusts up with his hips and looks at me deadly. that sounds like a warning.

“Tsk. You don’t look at me like that.” I scold him.

He smirks.

I push down his hip with my hand. “And you don’t move until I say so.”

I undo his pants still looking at him. I take them off, making sure I kiss his tattooed muscles on his thigh while i slide down his body. I kiss the tattoo on his foot while he looks at me amused.

Then i grab the waistband of his boxers and pull them down too, his cock is incredibly hard against his abdomen.

“Looks like this dolphin is a bottom after all.”

He smiles and shakes his head.

“No?” I ask.

He shakes his head again.

“Your dick says otherwise.” I say fisting it.

He lets out a groan, his head thrown backwards. I start stroking it slowly. His chest rises and falls deeply. A little drop of pre-cum seems to be calling me and I give it a little kitten lick. His cock jumps and he hisses.

And that’s when I wrap my lips around it and start sucking him with intention, my tongue feels every vein underneath it, my nose hitting the hairy pelvis. I suck him like I am starving, like I’ve been waiting to do this freely for so long, at my pace, without his hand to guide my head and pace. His moans are loud over the towel chord which does little to shut him up.

His stare is wild on me, he bends his knees and thrusts upwards so I pull away.

“Ah ah.” I say, a string of saliva connecting my swollen red mouth to the tip of his cock. “Be a good boy.”

I pinch one of his balls lightly and he flinches. I smirk and lick it, suck on that spot. And he is a whimpering mess.

“Beg.” I say standing up between his legs and taking my dress off.

His eyes eat my curves alive, he’s panting. I put a foot on his mouth and he turns his head to the side so I smirk and I tread his cheek a bit.

“I said beg.”

I straddle his face grabbing his curls with both my hands. And I start grinding on his gagged mouth, my wet pussy drenching his lips, his beard, my clit hits his nose.

He’s looking at me like I am a dream, his eyes almost closed, he inhales deeply anytime my pussy drenches his nose.

“Fuck-“ i moan softly, too softly to sound like a dom. His eyes get so dark, like I am awakening his real side and his arms flex.

“No!” I breathe stopping his arms above his head with my hands. “Let me drive, tonight.”

He smiles challenging but nods.

I start to ride his face again and I hear him say something. But he’s gagged and I don’t catch it.

“What?” I ask breathlessly.

“Eeeaaah” he repeats.

“That sounded like a beg..?”

He rolls his eyes, he is panting. Then he looks at me again.

“..hhuuck hme” he shouts.

I smirk stopping my hips. “Did you ask me to fuck you?”

He nods.

I smile. “Be a good boy and ask nicely.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Eeeaaassh, huuuckk hmee!” He says.

I grin and slide down his body until I am lined up above his cock.

I put my hand on the towel chord and pull it down to free his mouth.

And in that moment I lower my warm pussy to his hardness, until I hit the base of it.

“Ffffuck!” He groans.

My hips shake slightly at the fullness and I whimper a bit.

Breathing heavy he searches my eyes and whispers softly “you okay baby?”

I nod and put my hands on his chest for steadiness. “Yeah just a but overwhelmed.” I laugh.

He smiles and whispers “go ahead, move slowly.”

“Shut up, you’re not the dom here.” I laugh slowly starting to move my hips. I moan, he groans. Both in relief.

“Didn’t know my good girl had this in her.” He says breathy, his voice tone showing how aroused he is.

“Don’t call me that tonight.” I say and put my hands on his large neck.

“Fuck it, you’re my good girl anyway..” he says closing his eyes.

I smile and bend down to kiss him, still moving slowly. He kisses me back, his tongue delving in, we moan into each other.

I suck his bottom lip and start moving my hips faster. He looks at me when I sit up, at my tits, at the way my tanned belly moves anytime I reach his base with my pussy lips.

We’re need, raw, unstoppable want. Lust. Love. We’re one.

“You want it harder?” I ask him.

“Please.” He whispers.

I giggle, he grins.

And I start moving faster, taking him deeper while I roll my hips. I put my hands on his thighs behind me and move throwing my head backwards, letting it hang between my shoulders, my curls tickling his knees.

And that’s the position makes him hit the right spot. I feel it, growing fast.

I let out a loud moan and he stills when i start bucking my hips.

Then in a second i hear the charger cable that was around his wrists fly and fall somewhere. I gasp. And i am up in the air, him carrying me to the bed.

He flips me and bends me at the edge of it, ass up, the loose towel chord that he had around his head is at my throat, and he pulls it towards him so that i have to weight on the covers with my hands.

He’s inside of me again, i moan half choking with that chord at my neck, like I am a damn horse.

“Now be a good girl and ask nicely.” He roars in my ear, his forehead against my temple, his teeth at my ear.

“Can I come?” I whisper breathy.

The sting on my ass and the echo of the slap tell me I can’t.

“Please.” I whisper breathlessly.

And my face sinks forced on the bed while i feel him fuck me as hard as he can, the skin to skin sound hitting the walls.

I start whimpering and my legs shake.

He withdraws, pulling out fast.

I let out a cry in the mattress, my pussy starting to spasm around nothing, my fists grip the bedsheets.

“Sh sh shhhh.” I hear him say. “Will you ask me next time you want to play dom?”

I nod. He grabs my hair and pulls backwards, looking at me from behind, above my head, straight into my eyes.

“What did you say?”

“Yes..”

“Yes what”

“Yes Daniel.”

“Tsk.” He says shaking his head once.

Silence.

“Yes.. daddy.” I whisper.

“Damn right!” He mutters proudly slamming back in and hugging me so tight from behind, his face in the crook of my neck, moving like life depends on it.

And I come so hard I see stars, i can’t hear clearly anymore except the ping of my head deleting every thought that is not my husband.

And he comes so hard, moving erratically, biting my shoulder while he groans and pistons in: once, twice, three times. And he stills.

We’re both panting. He’s completely spent on me.

“You’re heavy.” I say half choking.

He smirks and rolls to the side, looking at the ceiling, panting.

I find the strength to crawl on the bed, his cum running down my thighs. He watches, smirking, putting a hand behind his head and with the other one grabs the end of the chord that still hand around my throat and pulls.

“You look like a bitch like this.” He grins.

I smack his chest falling on it, completely dead. “Asshole.”

He unties the chord and makes it fall to the floor.

We’re glued to each other with sweat, the white curtains move in the sea breeze, the soft noise from outside making us start to fall asleep.

“That was surprisingly good..” He says lazy, his hand caressing my spine.

“What about you let me do it once a week?”

“Once a month, deal.”

“You don’t wanna be my good boy?”

“No, I am a dolphin.”

“A bottom dolphin.” I laugh.

He pushes me and settles between my thighs. “That makes you a dom dolphin?” He teases.

“Yeah?” I smile.

He smiles caressing my hair, looking at me too softly for the stupid conversation we’re having.

“Dolphins make sex for pleasure and for.. little dolphins..”

I smile and nod, a little blushing.

“Dolphins don’t take contraceptive pills..” he whispers caressing my bottom lip..

“..then I am not a dolphin..” i whisper pouting playfully.

He looks into my eyes and I do too. My smile disappears. We’re dead serious now.

“You want me to be a dolphin?” I ask, my voice a little shaky.

“You want to be one?” He whispers, his eyes shiny.

“You want little dolphins?” I ask grinning.

“You like little dolphins?” he smiles.

I smile back and nod.

We kiss, softly, slowly. And then I whisper on his lips: “We can both be dolphins starting from tonight.”

We hug and kiss again, he reaches between us with his hand and guides himself back inside of me.

And we make love, slowly, kissing each other softly, smiling, caressing our faces and hair, whispering our love.

The morning after we take the boat to go see dolphins. And when we’re under water, mask on and deep blue surrounding us, the animals dance around us.

A little one comes close to me. I smile broadly and turn my head looking for my husband.

And daniel’s already smiling behind his go pro, capturing the moment with his greatest smile.

(Thanks for the person who asked in my DMs, this made me dreeeeam. Also, feedback is always appreciated, love to all those who weekly reach out to me, makes me want to go ahead!)

[jamieroyjamieroy]

This is the start of Tommy buying a ring for Buck after their hook up. Let me know if you would be interested in reading more.

Tommy is just window shopping - daydreaming really - he is not seriously considering buying an engagement ring for a man that doesn’t love him. A man that only days ago told Tommy he slept with him but has no feelings for him, well that was the gist of the outburst to Tommy’s ears. But Tommy is a stubborn romantic and isn’t ready to shut the door on any opportunity to be with Evan. Tommy has known how he felt about that man since the unexpected but delightful invite to Maddie and Chim’s wedding.

That has to be the reason for Tommy being drawn to the jewellery shop he is standing outside of. Thinking of weddings and how he and Evan spent that night has Tommy’s - rarely seen - optimistic side taking the drivers seat. It’s the only reason he follows that beacon pulling him closer, enticing him to select that one ring that will bring love and joy to his life.

Tommy rubs a hand down his face ‘god damn it Kinard, you are going to start yelling my precious and living in a cave if you don’t quit thinking like that.’ He thinks to himself and pushes the door open anyway. He is going to waste money on a ring that will likely sit in his drawer for the rest of his life, all while knowing there is only one man he ever wants to give a ring to. Only one man he wants to spend forever with. Life has had a funny way of throwing Evan Buckley in his path this last year, he wants to be prepared for the next time. It could be the last chance he gets. After all, third times the charm. Or are they at their fourth chance? Whatever number they are on Tommy wants to make it count, with that final thought he enters the store to find a ring he thinks Evan would be happy to wear for the rest of their lives.

Later that night Tommy sits on his bed the ring box open on his nightstand, his phone in hand opened to Evan’s last message from months ago. Tommy’s imagination running wild with all the outlandish ways he could ask Evan to marry him, all of which he knows won’t happen. Not when he can’t even work up the courage to text Evan. Sighing loudly he closes the message app and double checks his alarm for tomorrow before locking his phone and placing it facedown on his nightstand. Next to the ring. Snapping the box shut he hides it at the back of his drawer chastising himself for spending that money and promises himself he we will return it on his next day off. Tommy knows deep in his heart that the only way that ring will leave his drawer is if it’s on Evan’s finger, but he can lie to himself tonight and pretend he will return it another day.

A week or so goes by with the ring still taking up space in Tommy’s drawer. A week, or more, of excuses for not returning the ring. ‘The store is too far out of the way.’ ‘I need to wait until I have other things to do in that part of town otherwise it’s a waste of gas. Gotta think about my carbon footprint.’ ‘I should really work on my truck today.’ ‘It looks like it might rain and everyone drives like an idiot in the wet, safer to stay home.’ Each excuse became flimsier and flimsier as he waited for Evan to call, or to run in to him in a bar. Or for his own resolve to crumble and he ends up on Evan’s doorstep begging Evan to give them another chance.

Unfortunately when the call comes it goes nothing like Tommy expected. He wishes he never got that call. Not that he is sorry he helped saved Chim’s life, he just wished Evan didn’t have to make it. He wishes the 118 were never called to that lab, that none of them had to go through what they have been through. That Bobby was still here. Tommy would give up his chance to be in Evan’s life - at any chance of happiness - if it meant he never had to witness the love of his life fall apart all alone over the death of his only real father. The sounds of Evan’s wails wake him up at night, pulling him from nightmares where Evan is in Bobby’s place and Tommy has to say goodbye separated by a glass door. If Tommy believed in such things, he would have considered the ring in the back of his drawer a curse. An omen taunting him and mocking his moment of romanticism by putting Evan back in his life for such a brief and devastating event to derail everything. And yet he still can’t return the ring.

[timeslipcamp]

thoughts on episode 18

boy howdy can i just say how nice it is to read this when it's coming out and not when i'm like. at work and actively in meetings lmao

anyways we made it!! the festival of stars is here!! i'm going to cry when i see lyca's little bun i can just feel it. live reading here we go!!

spoilers through ep 18

i'm screaming already everyone pray for my roommate who is asleep

UGH THE CARDS RIGHT WHEN I OPEN THE APP they're all so prettyyyyyy i love them oh it's just towa hi jin

rip bunny girl. i was so ready for a jumpscare there lmao

VAGASTROM CAMEO RIGHT OFF THE BAT hiiii alan. note to self: get the vagastrom kids to help build my ikea furniture. stop wait are you telling me alan just carries around chicken. in his pockets. for the cats. chicken??? just in. his pockets??? BE CAREFUL AROUND DARKWICK GOD ALL THE GHOULS KNOW NOT TO TRUST THEM UGHHHH alan i love you

oh wow i've been so busy rereading chapters i forgot we got diamonds for new ones lmao

BLACK MARKET CAT TREATS god i love this game

oh canceled last year you say? perhaps because of the clash or a murder mayhaps?? looks like they're going with the traditional 7/7 date, that's cool. SKY KING IS REAL?? PROTECTION? oh she's still got two months okay interesting good to know. so potentially two more inter house missions then before they switch it up for the plot.

YES GRILL THAT LITTLE BITCH MC GO GIRL exhausting every avenue my ass.

the vibe hahaha i bet he learned that from rui. PLEASE tell me lyca is going to say "oh, truth!" at some point too. LOVE that subaru is suspicious. get him on my investigation team!! "choose a weaver" bitch who else would towa EVER choose hahaha except haru subaru blushing!!!!

towa is so funny dude

lyca will you please just tell me about my scent :( is it the kyklos be honest

omg zenji hi!! i feel like that meme whenever i see him, he's so fun. god i'm typing too much already i gotta chill. THAT LITTLE PERSON lyca i love you so much. zenji's actually gonna make me cry and we're like five chapters in dude i can't do this

FENYANG okay had to pause the fun music to look that up. apparently it's not a sheep but a river valley region in china lol. earth spirits in game though!!! that live in burial jars, that's super cool. someone remind me to add that to my anomalies list later. towa's little giggle is so cute ugh. such a fantastic group of ghouls for this mission im so excited.

ZENJI YOUTUBE VIDEO LETS GO i love that hes the one who tells us these stories. this is such a fun way to do this. who do you think draws the pictures for him? THREE OUT OF TEN hahaha towa PLEASE

ooo a riddle, that's fun. towa saying another wish is crazy. i wonder how powerful the sky king is? is there a limit to the wishes he can grant? is it a monkey paw thing? oh okay got my answer right away lol. oblivion and immortality....interesting. she could wish for the memory of the kyklos to disappear into oblivion. YES lyca we are on the same page!!! god lyca is so smart THATS MY BOY

NEW TOWA NICKNAME LUPIN making a post RIGHT NOW so i do that tomorrow. i mean lupin obviously latin root lup--wolf. so. anyways! it's actually so funny that zenji can't clap and make sounds hahaha i love that. fun detail. towa and lyca are so funny this is so good. "i'm good at jumping over things" omg the fox is back lyca said its on SIGHT

sho in a track suit????? the sky king is blessing me already HELLOOOOOOO BABY!! he's worried about salmonella ilysm sho

AND RIGHT AFTER IS THE MAN BUN oh god okay okay okay okay okay okay okay i can be normal about this okay okay

everyone looks so good!!! ugh top tier outfit design as usual. hodge and podge!! my favs!!! i love that they fixed her outfit omg. this is so sweet dude. subaru saying "carefully worn" makes me feel like someone's gonna rip theirs lol. my money's on towa. oh i bet the lantern floating is going to look so pretty.

STUFF LMAO HAKU STOP oh my god zenji might accidentally get laid to rest?? hello???

"here chimi take my hand" dude where. your hand is INSIDE your sleeve. love you tho. oh nvm he did that on purpose hahaha. "today, the line between our world and other worlds like the spirit world becomes blurred in hotarubi." FASCINATING. wait students get spirited away?? lmaooo at least they come back weeks later?? this is so funny. no big deal. super chill.

sky king is a smash. i am not taking comments at this time.

towa and lyca not sitting is SO funny i love these dudes. "child of beast," lyca; "shade" subaru??; "miraculous one" towa; "cursed being" mc; HELLO?? SHADE?? unless he was referring to zenji but like. shade? hello? as in a spirit shade or a shady soul or WHAT? i mean i've seen some stories where shades are like, reflections of beings so maybe because of subaru's stigma? oh that's so interesting. super cool that his stigma didn't work on the scroll, love that. can't wait to see what these challenges are!!

HARU HEY BABE omg wait are they rainbow toffee apples??? the gay apples we get to level up?? no way hahaha. omg lyca paying for us ill cry rn. little robot gear dude??? how much you wanna bet gen or mio or whatever made that? clockwork anomaly is adorable and i love them. THEYRE FROM DIONYSIA!!! ITS MIOS LETS GOOOO

does towa not like it because it's mechanical? more points in my nature being theory basket. also instantly pacified by haru complimenting him. love them

oh i bet it's ultio that fucked up the dorm then lmao. no wonder it hasn't gotten fixed.

love that someone's sabotaging this though, that'll make it fun. ramen buddies!! hell YES they're hanging together!! detective reaching shinjo lyca PLEASE subaru using his stigma to find the winning ticket is SENDING ME. romeo is going to kill him hahaha ritsu is so funny dude. too bad he ditched his date for legal matters sorry ren :(

oh cool subaru's controlling his stigma more! love powers that are tied to emotional states. it makes sense then, that basically confirms why jin's is on the fritz. zenji's been so worried this whole episode stop that you're making ME worried.

close up on sho don't mind if i do! lyca is so excited omg look at him. i love this episode everyone is so cute. oh my god the heart attack i just had when i thought sho could see zenji hahaha my jaw DROPPED. sho being so confident we'll be around next year please ill CRY. im so obsessed with him. i keep thinking other ghouls are my favorite but then here he is still being AMAZING. ugh.

magpie building a bridge!! story reference!! wishes on bamboo!! aw towa wants to be a hero :') lyca wishing for nero ughhh. "i would never again make a wish upon something i can't see." uh oh zenji, demonic pact reference? oh elias makes the soda that's funny.

SUNS GONE CONFIRMATION FOR TOWA i love having obvious theories proven. boosts my ego. anyways i hope this place is a spirit road this is sick. is the voice repeating wishes or something? repeating her thoughts???

oh hey alan. HAHA WAIT HE TOLD SHO HE WAS LOST oh my god i love you alan never change. whats the vibe between alan and subaru why is it weird. ALLY?? DISSIDENTS HAHAHA i just choked on my snack. "i'll return the favor" oh i can't wait to see that come back around. bye alan love you. zenji calling him dashing is great, who wouldn't have a crush on alan?

WATERMELON EXORCISMS?

kaito and luca festival date!!! oh my god i am eating GOOD today!! omg luca and jiro being buddies mention, fav rarepair if imma be real. it's up there. THATS WHAT ROMI CALLS HIM oh no lyca is getting the bar boys nicknames for everyone this is so funny. "toadstool here!" kaito i love you dude

i love when they make subaru taller than the gen ed students. he's like 5' nothing in my head. damn lyca you're cool as hell. can we eat the watermelons after we exorcise them. asking for a friend. OH MY GOD WE CAN

is the sky king the cowherd do we need to find his weaver? why is my mans crying :(

SHAMEPLANT??? oh my god towa. power rangers!!! omg this is so funny.

SUBARU SNAPPING LETS GOOOO i just had goosebumps hoooly shit oh my god. dude the music going quiet too was CRAZY. oh my god. ohhh my god. towa's immediately like "yeah you should have said it louder actually. i recommend lightning." oh that mask sequence was so cool i watched it three times ngl

dude the way i just got so sad that the wish isn't getting granted even though i knew it wouldn't happen smh. give us the panel of towa and lyca hugging cowards. oh what was with the creepy music behind zenji at the end there? interesting.

i really feel like this episode could have benefitted from like, two more chapters at least to wrap everything up. still though, good story, and i'm super bummed we never found out why the sky king was crying. what did zenji mean about the original japanese?? literally gonna be scouring people's posts for that, i'll link it here when i find one.

ugh such a cute episode this was all so so so cute. good episode. VAGASTROM NEXT LETS GO BABY!! maybe we'll get some more lore. mc said two more months, so we'll see where in the time frame this next one is!! posts coming tomorrow on towa's nicknames for lyca and subaru and i'm sure i'll do a couple theory posts on the new info once i've slept

the most important part of this episode was lyca's bun thank you and goodnight it's almost 2 am hahaha

[bronzieinthedas]

For @rookappreciationweek, June 25 for Rook Laidir. "Treasure"

An upcoming ficlet for my pre-Veilguard vignette collection featuring Qatesh, my Tevinter slave turned LoF Rook, musing about what treasure truly is.

Qatesh stared at the small heap of coins on the table in front of her. Her treasure, Ma Laidir had said. Treasure. Her tiny share of what the Lords made with the first expedition she went on.  

"Go on, little Rook,“ her mentor encouraged her. "It‘s yours. You worked for it, you decide on what you want to do with it. Spend it or save it."

Qatesh, ex-slave from Tevinter who had never seen money before she turned eighteen, who still found the concept of currency baffling even after two years in Rivain, continued staring at the coins.

In her head, thoughts raced, almost making her dizzy. 

There had been so many jewels, so much wealth displayed in that half-collapsed burial chamber they‘d explored… more than she ever imagined. Qatesh hung back as Ma told her to, just a quivering novice mage, a backup for the party in case things went sideways. Luckily, the whole thing worked out smoothly. But she‘d been there, did her part by being attentive, and was thus worthy of earning her proper place in the Lords of Fortune. 

Her first self-earned money. For a second, she wondered how much wealth she could have amassed already, if all those years and hours spent spinning wool at the workshop had been paid… Bitterness rose in her throat, made swallowing difficult. The treasure hoard would have probably filled a palace. Her worth had solely been in her skilled hands spinning wool, while others reaped the rewards for her hard work.

"I… I think I‘ll save it,“ she said in the end. "But I might go out tomorrow and get myself some fitted bronze bands. For my horns."

She blushed a little at admitting such a frivolous wish. It was something she’d first seen on the other Qunari at the Hilt, and it reminded her of the ribbons her Ma in Tevinter wore. Was her former Ma still alive or not? Qatesh didn't know -- or maybe didn't want to know. She had a new Ma now, someone who didn‘t shun her for being a saarebas. Qatesh wasn’t part of the Qun, but she reasoned she could still take a little pride in her heritage and decorate herself. She was free now. Free to choose who and what she was. 

"Do that. Lets you remember how far you came.“ Her voice gentle, Ma Laidir clapped her on the shoulder once before tucking a wayward strand of hair behind Qatesh's ear. “Come on. Let’s not keep Isabela waiting. I promised we’d join her for dinner.” 

"Yes, Ma."

Qatesh wasn't sure if she had arrived where she wanted to be in her life, but for once, she felt calm. She had a new name, a job, and she was part of a group of people wo didn't want her any harm. Maybe, that was to be treasured more than gold.

[isolatednights]

a hum escapes her, followed by a string of mutterings in turkish explaining the choice of name is more given the boys absentee father and how strong he'll become besides that. it's a question that will continue to bother her - as will its answer - long beyond that night, but the reassurance that her decision will be the right one, regardless of what it is, seems to offer her a semblance of peace. another grumble escapes her at the prompting of water, pushing herself up onto one elbow to accept the glass with a small pout. "you're teasing me."

for a man who had seemed so hesitant in jumping into things previously, cade appears to be more than eager to support her in this. brows furrow as she hands the empty glass back to him. "he never had a dad." she admits, snuggling back into the bed with a yawn. "we found out i was pregnant and he left. that's part of the reason i wanted this all to work. would give someone not just right for me, but to him too, ya know? so you'd have to be sure. sure sure of everything. me 'n him. don't think i can handle being left again."

he stops at the entry, allowing her to move beyond him and into the room - to savor everything well before any of the rest of them. he takes in each subtle movement, each shift in expression, but when she turns to him with that radiant smile? he's shot through the heart and once more convinced that the program that matched them together had to have been right. because that look alone could have lit up a thousand suns and he would find a way to recreate it again, and again, and again if he would.

moving forward so the door could slide shut behind them - enclosing the pair within the space together, silas joins her in the grass. tablet set aside and mug placed beside him, he rests back on his palms, basking in the artificial sun with a small grin in her direction. "maybe for tonight and tomorrow, then we can share the wealth," he notes with a soft chuckle. "fairly certain half our companions will be nursing the worst hangovers to ever exist in space, while my twin-apparent and his partner are too busy being wrapped up in one another to notice anyone else." silas is quiet for a moment before glancing over at the tablet. "what else do you miss? i'm sure i could manage to give you the first-time experience rights before we open things up to the others."

a shoulder raises into a shrug. he'd never been one for dates. tried it once - years and years ago when he first liked a girl while he was still in school, but that had been the one and only occasion. after that, he'd had bed companions and nothing more. but if his sister were awake and learned he'd not taken his match out on a proper date, he'd likely have his ears boxed. "italian huh? can't go wrong with a good red sauce and bottle of wine," he agrees. he's an alright cook. nothing on what you might have found at a fancy place back on earth, but perhaps he can convince one of the others to cook for him.

a noise of inquiry escapes him at the statement - one that morphs into pure amusement when she calls herself heavy and claims he'll hurt himself. "sweetheart, you're a damn feather, trust me." as if to convince her of the statement, the man shifts - adjusting her against him so he can get his feet beneath himself before dragging her closer and truly cradling her frame as he pushes himself up and standing. "might've been good wine, but i think tomorrow you'll be singing a different tune. lets get you set at the med bay, then i'll put you to bed. you'll thank me for it in the morning."

"aslan? that his name? i like that.. but there aint a single part of either choice that'd make you a bad mother, whether you chose to wake him up or chose to let him sleep.. neither one makes you a bad anythin'. neither answer there is right or wrong, it's just which one you need more, that you think is right for him and if that's with you, then he'd understand that." he pauses, trying to make everything as comfortable for her as he could. "you gonna drink some water for me, lion mother?" he smirked, what a charming thing.

"for the record, i'd be more than willing to take on a little lion, reckon i'd be good at that, or at least i can hope i would." he made a gesture back out to the hallway. "jsut do you know though aiyla, 'aint nobody else that woke up that'd judge your choice either, n' it is just that, your choice. if you decide no, we can do a million things for him to have from you, video's, letters, all of it, and if you do, then we're making this a kid friendly place to grow up. how's that sound? either way, we make it work." then he caught himself. "i mean, if we- if we is something you eventually want, if not then i'm a good helpin' hand for you and i always will be." stay. as easy as that. "i 'aint going nowhere, i'm stayin' right here sweetheart."

eris hadn't smiled once since waking up, she'd barely cracked even the smallest hint of a smile.. and yet he opened that door and the smell hit her. earth, soil, dirt... home. it smelled like home again, not this clinically clean smell, not metallic just rich and dirty and god everything she needed. it was timid the way she'd stepped into the room with her cradled mug. it took a few moments for her to crouch down too, shifting the mug to one hand and as she sipped the hot chocolate, she let her fingers find the grass and mud, and just.. run through it. the smile, that beaming white smile came when she looked back up to him. he might not know it yet, but he should wear that achievement like a medal. she for a few moments, felt comfortable enough, happy enough.. to just smile.

"for all of us." she confirmed with a nod, but she'd moved to be able to sit, legs crossed on the grass and for once just looked... at ease. no heavily set frown on her brows now. "for all of us, but maybe for one night it could just be for us?" she spoke with a large inhale, slow and steady and just grateful to feel human again. eris didn't want to like him, she didn't want to believe that stupid match making system but... wasn't this the nicest thing anyone had done for her in such a long time?

"you're gonna take me on a date?" she sniffled and yet, there was a little smile hidden in there, a bit of her that actually found that idea so flattering, so sweet that.. he'd even try, to make that work in their situation but it helped, it gave her something else to think about. half of her mind focused on the hand trailing up and down her spine still, it was so soothing. she even liked the low hum of his chuckle, silly.. how easily she settled with him, how easy she found it to relax in his arms. she didn't imagine a few hours ago she'd ever be able to take comfort from anyone ever again and yet here she was, curled up in a closet, hiding... and perfectly content to be hiding with him. "i really like italian." she managed to joke back a little.

"you can't do that." she scrunched her brows in confusion, the tears however were slowly easing away, the shaking hands were just.. holding to him instead, not quivering. it was working. "i mean you can't lift me, i'm heavy, you'll hurt yourself and i dont want you to hurt yourself." she moved a hand just to use her sleeve to rub at her eyes, they'd be sore.. but it'd be fine in the end. "what if i stay up all night, then the hangover can't have me and- and the wine, it was nice wine." followed by a small hiccup, she'd definitely enjoyed some wine. "i'd be heavy to carry."

[shopwitchvamp]

So as gauche as it's gonna be, I'm gonna be back to posting & boosting preorders despite everything :[ Like especially because I have all these amazing guest artists who put their hard work into designing for this set & have entrusted me with their artwork.. I don't want to let them down by having the collection fall flat. I wish I'd chosen different timing for these preorders but unfortunately there wasn't realistically any other time that would work since we'll be moving early next year. I hope you'll all understand that I've gotta keep trying to push forward. Thanks as always for your support, everyone 🖤

[moeblob]

The Loving Wife and Loving Husband try to care for the Traitor who is going through a crisis at being told "you could have said no" because he's the biggest yes-man in existence (to friends).

[louferrignojrofficial]

went to sleep because i had a headache. woke up with the same headache but now i’m hungry and sweating too. how fun 👍

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I was once again reminded that I make up the majority of the copollo tag here on tumblr lmao

no but really look—

^from my copollo blog

my user is the third largest tag. and this blog keeps track of EVERY copollo post.

ALL OF THEM

HOW HAVE I DONE THIS LMAO

WILL THIS BE MY LEGACY

[shinesurge]

i dont enjoy doing commissions and this con poster is no exception BUT i'm fully comfortable admitting i am doing it because it means the people working at the local comic shop that iced me out will have to look at my art promoting the biggest annual nerd event in town lmao

[dragonpikachu]

black velvetopia was a LOT more involved then I thought it'd be, I think that might have been the hardest level so far, tho I can't tell if it's because it was actually harder or if I'm just rock solid stupid

it took me longer then I'd like to admit to find all the baggage and the second part of the boss fight had me scratching my head for a while, I thought you had to take the poles out of Edgar directly into the other guy, I didn't realize you could just like... throw them to the ground to use later

despite all that I think it's been my favorite level so far personally!

[seekingthestars]

she's beauty she's grace she's Miss Eevee Cosplay 3.0

[flowerakatsuka]

wip while i'm at woooork~