#it's probably going to be something that underwhelms me

[whytheylosttheirminds]

make this place your home - r.c.

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader

summary: Rafe has been begging you to move in with him, but when you finally show him the place your heart belongs to, he realizes he'd do anything to make you happy.

content: fluff, angst, a drizzle of spice, semi-canon obx if you were to eliminate some pretty important things lol

cw: mentions of blood and injury, suggestive comments, closed-door romance, mentions of abusive parents (Luke)

note: my contribution to @zyafics mrga campaign <3

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“Don’t open your eyes yet!” 

“I’m gonna trip over something and fall on my ass. Or run into something. This is The Cut, who knows what junk is just lying around. I’m gonna get tetris or some shit.”

You laughed out loud. Rafe nearly opened his eyes to figure out why.

“See, now you’re laughing at me, you better not be doing some dumb shit to me for a Tiktok,” he warned.

“Oh my god, you’re such a baby, calm down,” you chuckled. “I’m laughing because you’re cute. It’s tetanus, not tetris.”

He should feel embarrassed, but the sound of your laugh and of you calling him cute calmed every muscle in his body. You were a balm that went straight to his agitated heart.

You were the only one who could disarm him when he got irritated like this. You told him once that you don’t take his bad moods personally because you can see them for what they are - he’s not angry, he’s anxious. He realized then that you’re the only person who’d ever really understood him, that you might understand him better than he understands himself. 

It’s why his shoulders relax now, it’s why he can take a deep breath. There was no one else in the world who could convince him to let them drive his boat while he’s blindfolded or walk through the tall, marshy grass without knowing where he was going. Only you.

“Can I open my eyes now?” He asked.

“We’re not there yet,” you shook your head, hand still on his arm to lead him closer to your surprise. “You can go one more minute without seeing where you’re going.”

“Maybe, but I don’t know if I can go another minute without seeing you,” he flirted.

You smiled, tempted to rip the blindfold off him and forget all about the surprise. Too bad for him you already knew all his tricks.

“Nice try, Cameron.”

As you got closer, your stomach twisted. Maybe this was stupid. After all, wouldn’t it be underwhelming to Rafe after all he’s seen? This place meant so much to you, you didn’t know if you could handle any criticism from him. You considered turning around, but you’d already made such a big deal out of this, how would you explain it to him?

“Okay, this is a good spot, I guess,” you said, your voice shaking with trepidation.

“You good?” Rafe asked. Of course he could tell your mood shifted without even looking at you.

“Yeah, I think, just open your eyes.” At this point you just wanted to get his inevitable disappointment over with.

Slowly, Rafe opened his eyes. He blinked a few times to adjust to the blinding Carolina sunlight before finally sizing up your big reveal.

It was your house, the one he’d been to a hundred times before - sneaking into your window so your brother wouldn’t hear, showing up in the night to investigate when you “heard a noise,” defending you from Luke when he got violent. Except, this wasn’t the same house. It was bigger, for one. And slightly bigger, with new walls, new roof, and a big, hand painted flag in your brother’s handwriting: “Poguelandia.” 

It wasn’t much, but it was your dream come true. In your eyes, you may as well have been standing in front of a magic castle. As you watched Rafe’s expression stay completely unchanged you realized that to him, it probably still looked like some shitty shack on The Cut. You wished you never brought him here.

“This is what you guys have been working on this whole time?” He asked, still looking at the house and not at you.

“Yeah, I mean, and the store,” you gestured to the dock behind you where you and your friends had built yourselves a small business. Another thing that would surely seem pathetic compared to what Rafe was used to.

“It’s nice, I like it,” Rafe said.

“No it’s okay, you don’t have to lie,” you said, voice small. You started to turn to leave. “I shouldn’t have made such a big deal out of it, let’s just go-”

“Hey, woah, woah,” Rafe interrupted you gently.

He approached you from behind, arms twisting around your waist, forcing you to turn back and look at your home. He had to duck down to slot his chin into your shoulder, swaying you both gently.

“If I had to come all this way, I think I at least deserve the grand tour, don’t I?” he mumbled into your ear.

Your smile returned, you nuzzled your cheek into his, heart swelling.

“I guess, if you insist,” you said with a cheeky grin.

“I do,” he nodded, tickling your neck with his buzzed hair. He tilted his head down to place a sloppy kiss into the crook of your shoulder. “I’m especially looking forward to seeing your bedroom.”

“You mean the one I share with your sister?” 

He groaned, “why do you torture me like this?”

“Because it’s fun.” You twisted away from his hold and slid your hand down his arm to interlock your fingers with his.

Rafe followed you onto the porch. You paused at the front door for dramatic effect.

“Hello MTV, welcome to my crib!”

Rafe smiled as you cracked up at your own joke, but his momentary joy turned sour when you opened the door and revealed an unwelcome sight on the other side; the Pogues.

The lively discussion that had been filling your shared living room stopped dead in its tracks. The room turned cold. Six icy stares were aimed in your boyfriend’s direction.

You understood why they disliked him so much. He didn’t put much effort into changing their minds. But he’d changed yours. And though you’d tried for years not to, you loved him. Neither of you had said it yet, but you knew it was true, at least for you. 

There had been countless arguments between you and your brother and the shared friends that were basically family about Rafe. Countless fights you’d stopped between JJ and Rafe, countless nights begging Rafe just to try a little harder, begging JJ just to give him a chance. They both cared for you enough not to kill each other, but it was a reluctant ceasefire. A fragile peace you were always vigilant to protect. A truce that could be broken at any moment. You prayed this wasn’t that moment.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you guys were home,” you explained. The six pogues shared concerned glances with each other, something unsaid that you felt had nothing to do with you walking in with their least favorite person. “What’s going on?”

Kie stood, shot a brief but blazing glare towards Rafe, and handed you a piece of paper. You read it carefully, your eyebrows creased in confusion that was slowly morphing into great concern. Rafe read over your shoulder.

It was an official warning from the Kildare City Council. The land you were standing on and the home you’d built would be rezoned. They were taking Poguelandia.

“What the hell?” You shouted. “Can they actually do this?”

“Looks like they already are,” John B confirmed.

“No, no. There has to be something we can -”

“There’s not!” JJ stood from his seat at the far end of the room. 

You could see it all over his face, the anger that was always lying just beneath the surface starting to make its way to the top. Everyone thought of JJ as a happy-go-lucky, silly, mischievous kid. And he was all those things, but he was something else, something only you really saw; a hurt kid who never healed. 

“There’s never something we can do,” JJ continued, stalking slowly toward you, but keeping his eyes locked on Rafe the whole time. “Not when Kooks are involved. They always win.”

“Back up, Maybank,” Rafe snarled, looking down at JJ, who’d gotten close enough to break the barrier of Rafe’s personal space. 

You stepped between them instinctually, a move you’d made a hundred times before. 

“Stop.” You put a gentle hand on JJ’s chest to back him up, but he didn’t budge. “This isn’t his fault, J.”

“How do we know that, huh?” JJ finally tore his eyes off Rafe to look at you. “How do we know he’s not behind it somehow? Trying to steal our land for another bougie ass development project. You can’t trust these people, sis. How many times do we have to get screwed by them before you realize it?”

You and your brother looked at each other for a long time. The rest of the room watched as the two of you seemed to have a conversation none of them could hear; the unspoken language of siblings who’d been to hell and back together.

After a long moment, you turned your gaze toward Rafe.

���Do- do you know anything about this?” You asked him hesitantly. 

His face fell. A series of emotions flashed across his features so quickly, you were sure you were the only one in the room who caught them all; surprise, betrayal, hurt, anger, and finally, back to his go-to: detached stoicism.

“That’s really what you think of me? That I’d do something like this?” His tone was even, his voice far away even though you were inches apart.

You knew you’d hurt him by even entertaining the idea that he’d betray you like this. But this ground was shaky, and you had been screwed over by Kooks your entire life. The trust you put in him did not come easy, and sometimes it wavered, even though he’d never given it any reason to.

Rafe’s jaw clenched when you didn’t answer. He nodded once, his lips twisting into the kind of smile that had absolutely no joy behind it. 

“Unbelievable.” He muttered.

He took one last searing look around the room, twelve hateful eyes met him, and he didn’t look at your watery ones before turning and storming out of the house, the newly installed screen door banging shut behind him.

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Your knees were tucked all the way to your chest, your chin resting on them as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to manufacture any sort of comfort. It wasn’t working.

The zone change notice sat on the bed in front of you. You read it over and over, as though if you just wanted it badly enough, the words would change into something less devastating. 

You were going to lose your home. You’d probably lost the love of your life, before you could even tell him he was the love of your life. Your brother was one step from completely falling over the edge, the rocky path toward destruction that you’d pulled him back from your whole lives getting steeper by the minute. A few hours ago you were excitedly cleaning this room so you could show Rafe. How could so much change in so little time?

A knock at the door pulled you from your spiraling thoughts.

“Come in,” you said quietly.

The door creaked slightly despite it being brand new. Sarah tiptoed into the room gently, searching you for any signs of distress.

“Sar, you don’t have to knock to come into your own room,” you told her.

“I know, I just thought maybe you needed some space.”

You shook your head and scooted over on the bed to make space for her. She took your invitation with a smile and settled in next to you.

“So…how’s your day going?” She asked in a singy-songy voice.

You both erupted in bittersweet laughter.

“Oh y’know, I’ve had better.”

She nudged your arm with her elbow.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, you know.” She assured you.

“Is it though? I mean really, Sar, is it?” No laughter hung in the air now. “I mean, what if I just lost my home and my boyfriend? Or worse, what if I just lost my home to my boyfriend.”

“You really think Rafe would’ve done something like this?” She asked.

“I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to. You heard him though, when I asked him about it, he didn’t deny it.”

Sarah sighed, a deep exhale that usually signaled she was about to say something she didn’t want to.

“What?” You prodded. 

“Look, I’m not my brother’s biggest fan, you know that,” she began.

“Um yes, you’ve made that very clear,” you chuckled, thinking of all the times Sarah had warned you not to get involved with Rafe. 

“But, just this one time, I’m going to…” She paused dramatically, her eyes screwed shut with reluctance. “...defend him.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Be honest, how hard was that for you to say?” You teased.

“I’m holding back vomit right now,” she laughed.

“Well then defend him quickly before you yack on my bed.”

“Okay, I just,” she paused to consider her words carefully. “I know you know Rafe really well. I mean you’re the only one he’s ever really let in, so you probably know him better than anyone. But I’ve known him longer than anyone. I’ve seen every version of him. I knew Rafe before he met you, and now I know him after he met you, and believe me when I tell you, those two are not the same guy. As cliche as it sounds, you changed him.”

You sat in silence, letting the words settle over you, surprised by how emotional they were making you. You willed the tears forming in your eyes not to fall.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a dick,” Sarah added. You were grateful for a reason to laugh before you started crying. “But he’s not the same. There was a time where I’d say ‘absolutely, Rafe definitely did this just to screw us over,’ but not anymore. Not since he fell in love with you.”

You looked up in surprise, the tears at your lash line threatening to finally spill over.

“You think he loves me?”

“Girl, be so for real. That man has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. Believe me, he’s yours.”

Your heart skipped, and the tears finally fell. You rose from the bed so suddenly, Sarah almost fell back onto the mattress. You didn’t know what had taken over you, just that you needed to go, now. Everything in you was being pulled toward him, like sand being dragged back out to sea by the tide. If you spent one more minute of your life without him knowing what you were so certain of now, you might not make it.

Sarah smiled at you, she read it all over your face.

“Go!” She urged.

“Love you!” You shouted over your shoulder as you raced out of your bedroom.

“Love you too, you freak,” she smiled to herself, knowing you were already long gone.

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Where could he have gone? Your mind flipped through all the possibilities as you ran across the lawn toward the dock. JJ would probably be pissed that you took The Snapper without asking first, but didn’t even care about that right now. You just needed to find Rafe.

You didn’t have to search for long.

As soon as your feet hit the wooden dock, they stopped in their tracks.

At the end of the pier sat Rafe’s boat bobbing in the water. The long figure of your boyfriend leaned over the bow. You watched with a big, bright smile as he untied the line, then retied it, then untied it, and retied it once more. He was clearly having a silent disagreement with himself. All that mattered to you was that he hadn’t left.

You approached slowly, avoiding the planks in the dock you knew would creak and give away your presence. The closer you got to him, the faster your heart beat. The words you were dying to say sat perched at the end of your tongue, you knew they wouldn’t be able to hang on much longer. 

Half way through untying the boat again, Rafe stopped and sighed.

“Need a push?” You said.

His eyes shot up to yours, startled. Tension filled his shoulders as he took you in, his shock quickly fading to something softer, yet still unsure.

“That depends,” he squinted in the sun to see you better. 

God, he was gorgeous. You could not let him get away.

“Depends on what?” You played along.

“If my girlfriend will forgive me for being a dismissive prick,” he said.

You forced your lips not to twist into a smile, pretending to consider his words.

“I think she might. If you forgive her first,” you said.

His eyes softened, lips twitching. You were both failing not to smile at each other now. 

Rafe finally tied up the boat for good, hopping up onto the dock. You admired every movement of his body as it drew closer to yours. When he reached you, he placed his hands on your waist, your arms drawing up to wrap around his neck, stretching up on your tiptoes to get as close to him as possible.

“She has nothing to apologize for. The only home she’s ever known is being threatened. She’s just scared. I get that.”

Every word fanned over you like a soft summer breeze. Your heart warmed, impossibly full despite all the anxieties today had brought. He just got you, he understood without you having to say it. This must be the closest two people can get to making magic, you thought.

“Thank you,” you let your head fall forward to rest on his chest. He kissed the top of your head.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispered into your hair.

You looked back up at him, shaking your head. 

“How is everything gonna be okay, Rafe? What if there really is nothing we can do? I mean, who’s even behind this?”

Rafe didn’t answer, but one name popped into his mind. Even with his suspicions, he didn’t know if he could help you. Helplessness was the feeling he despised more than any other, especially when it came to you.

“I don’t know,” he said, his heart breaking at the despairing look on your face. “But you’ve still got me. You could always move into the condo with me, like I’ve been begging you for months.”

“Can I bring my friends with me?” You scrunched up your nose, hoping he’d find you cute enough to say yes.

“I love you, but there’s no way in hell…”

A bolt of lightning shot through you, goosebumps erupting over your entire body. Did he really just say…?

He instantly read the shock on your face, but there was no look of regret on his.

“What? Haven’t I said I love you before?” 

“Umm, no, I think I would’ve remembered that!” You couldn’t help the big, goofy grin taking over your whole face.

“Oh, well that’s weird,” he shrugged, his hands sliding from your waist to your lower back, wrapping his strong arms around you and lifting you off your feet. “Because I do love you, so fucking much.” 

You yelped as he lifted you into the air, head falling back in laughter as he almost tumbled you both off the dock in his effort to sweep you off your feet.

You looked down at him and he lowered you slowly, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, arms still wrapped around each other like you’d never let go. You stood there embracing for a long time, so long that the sun was starting to set, casting a golden shimmer across the water. 

Finally you said, “I never gave you the grand tour.”

“And I was really looking forward to seeing your crib,” he teased, his lips brushing against the skin of your neck when he talked.

“Well, c’mon then.” You grabbed his hand, leading him back toward the house, both of you buzzing with the excitement that there was something much better than a tour waiting for you inside.

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“...And this is John B and JJ’s room,” you opened the door only a crack, afraid to unleash the stench that permanently filled the space. “They insisted on getting bunk beds even though they’re, like, forty. And Pope insisted on having his own room because, as he said, ‘JJ is a walking biohazard.’ Which is…fair.”

Rafe was just watching you with adoration as you showed him around the house. He was barely looking at the rooms you were showing him because he was so focused on the way you glowed with joy. It was true that he wanted you to move to Bayline with him, it was his life’s goal to get you there, actually, but he had to admit that you seemed like you really belonged here. He’d never seen you look more at home. 

“And this is our gallery wall.” You gestured to the display of framed photographs hanging in the upstairs hallway.

Rafe surveyed them dutifully with his hands tucked politely behind his back, like an old man in an art museum. Most of the photographs were of you and the pogues at various times in your life. Out fishing in the marsh, riding dirt bikes, post-surf at the beach. You admired the way Rafe was looking so intently and resisting the urge to grimace at so many photos of you with his once sworn enemies.

He explored the wall, eyes lingering on any photo of you a little longer than the rest. The hall continued to lead down toward your bedroom. At the very end, in a high corner, just above a series of photo booth pictures you’d taken with Sarah and Kie last summer, hung a delicate circular frame featuring a worn-out picture almost too small to see. Rafe leaned in for a better look.

In the photo, which was a tad faded and clearly taken several years ago, was a young guy, probably about 30, holding two young kids on his lap. The slightly bigger one, a boy, held up a trout he’d just caught, flashing a toothless grin. The little girl beamed at the man holding her.

It took Rafe a moment, but when he felt your weight shift next to him uncomfortably, he put it all together. The photo was you, JJ, and Luke. Probably the only one you had. And despite everything Luke had put you through, you’d hung it on the wall to see everyday.

Rafe turned to you, you were looking down at your feet, toes digging anxiously into the rug. His heart ached. If anyone knew what it was like to have a complicated relationship with their father, it was him. The fact that you’d still given Luke some dignity in this house he almost destroyed so many times said so much about you, and reminded him why he loved you so much.

“You wanna show me your room now?” He asked gently.

You looked up at him with glassy eyes and a small smile, “yeah.”

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The door clicked closed softly. Rafe took in the room, immediately identifying which bed was yours and which bed (the messy, half-made one) was his sister’s.

“Sarah doesn’t spend much time in here,” you admitted.

“No?” He asked, keeping his eyes off of you, the closed door suddenly adding a nervous energy to the room he wasn’t expecting.

“She mainly sleeps with John B.” Rafe grimaced, you hurried to reassure him. “Like, in his bed I mean, or his bunk I guess. Not, like sleep with him sleep with him, although I’m sure there’s plenty of that -”

“I’m literally begging you to stop talking,” he said, his eyes finding the ceiling, no doubt trying to erase the mental picture you just created for him.

“Sorry,” you chuckled.

Rafe wandered around the room some more, taking in all your decorations. He never understood why someone could collect so many knick-knacks that seemed to be worth nothing, but there was something endearing about it that drew him to you even more. Just another in a long line of things that would annoy him with someone else, but enchanted him with you.

As your time alone in the room dragged on, the air became tenser. You felt yourself watching him, but unable to move, back pressed up against the door, frozen in anticipation. 

You and Rafe had been alone together before - and you had been together before - but something had shifted out on that dock. Something that you knew you couldn’t take back, and didn’t want to. In fact, you only wanted to solidify it more.

“Rafe,” you said softly, finally pulling his attention away from your decor.

He looked up at you expectantly, like he had been waiting for you to give him permission to. He didn’t respond, just walked slowly toward you, his eyes on yours the whole way. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” you said, trying to laugh to break the tension, though the sound came out more like a hiccup.

“Has something changed?” He wondered aloud.

“Yeah, I guess it has.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “Because today I realized two important things.”

“What two things?” He asked, surprised, and a little alarmed, by your answer.

“The first is that this is my home, and that in a way, it will always be my home. And yet at the same time, I also realized that you’re my future, and I love you.”

Rafe’s smile spread slowly, like he was taking in each word one at a time. His blue eyes sparkled - like actually sparkled - with joy. Maybe you were imagining it, but it didn’t matter, you just wanted him to keep looking at you like that.

“Oh you love me, huh?” His voice was low and dangerous, he stepped closer until he was towering over you.

“Yeah, haven’t I said that before?” You echoed his words from earlier back to him.

He just shook his head at you, tucking his tongue in the corner of his cheek to try and tame his smile. His hands found your waist like they were made to fit there. His voice carried down to your very core as he leaned in.

“You know you can’t take it back now, right?” 

“Why would I take it back? I mean it, Rafe, with everything I have. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And he showed you. His body enveloping yours as he backed you up against the door and kissed you deeply. A whole new energy between you now, your need and your affection for each other stronger than ever. 

Before you could get carried away, footsteps on the stairs reminded you of a very crucial step of bringing your boyfriend home. 

“Wait, hold on.” You pulled away from Rafe and he frowned. His disappointment was so cute you were tempted to kiss the pout right off of him, but first you rummaged through a drawer in you and Sarah’s shared dresser.

“What is that?” Rafe asked when you pulled out a conch shell glued to a piece of twine.

“Just a little system Sarah and I have.” You winked at him, opening the door just a crack to hang the shell from the doorknob.

“Do I want to know?” Rafe asked.

“I don’t know, do you want to talk more about your sister’s love life, or work on ours?” You bit back your smile when he cringed at your words, suddenly realizing Sarah’s use for the shell with a shudder.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he said, before scooping you up and carrying you over his shoulder, just to drop you on the bed with a bounce.

“Yes, I am,” you smiled up at him.

And he showed you, over and over, just how lucky you were.

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It was different this time, more passionate, more intense, more everything. And when he held you after, whispering more I love you’s into your hair, and neck, and the side of your face, you knew it must’ve felt the same for him, too.

You laid tucked into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders so he could intertwine his fingers with yours as you both stared up at the ceiling in pure bliss.

You sighed a happy, airy sigh and nuzzled closer to him.

“You know I just mean for now, right?” You said.

He twisted his neck at what must’ve been an uncomfortable angle to try and see your face.

“You just love me for now?” He asked, incredulous.

“No, no!” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant to say, this is just my home for now.”

“Oh, okay,” he rested his head back onto the pillow. “That’s better, I guess.”

You sat up, shuffling through the sheets so you could see him. You brought your legs up and sat criss cross on the bed next to him. Rafe lazily reached out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear as he waited for the words he knew you were trying to formulate. He loved that you thought so hard before speaking, always determined to say what you mean. You loved that he waited to hear what you had to say, a patience he reserved almost exclusively for you.

“I know it must seem weird,” you began, “that I’m so attached to a place with so many bad memories. And I know you want me to live with you, and I want that too, eventually. But you have to understand, for so much of my life, it was just me and JJ. It was just us in this house. Even though a lot of it was us hiding from Luke or fending for ourselves when he didn’t come home for days at a time, there are good memories hidden in all the bad ones. Like, at the bottom of the stairs, there’s a spot where JJ and I accidentally ran our sled into the wall when we were stair-surfing. We covered it with chewed bubblegum and colored it in with marker, and Luke never noticed. Or in the kitchen, there’s tally marks under the countertop where we used to keep track of how many beers Luke had so we knew when it was time to go to John B’s for the night. And on the old dock, where our store is now, we made each other a pinky promise that someday we’d grow up and make something of ourselves and buy this house right out from under him. And we did it! And now, they’re just going to, what, take it away? Punish us for rising above the low expectations that they set for us? We were hurt here, yeah. But we also survived here. We did it together. I can’t leave that, or him, not now, not yet.”

Rafe drank in your words, and when tears came, he didn’t wipe them away or tell you to stop crying, he just let them fall. Let you feel what you needed to feel. His hand stayed firmly rested on your leg, there to hold only if you wanted it.

Through sobs you finally said, “this is our home, Rafe. We’re gonna lose our home.”

He’d heard enough. He stood from the bed quickly, pulling on his khakis and polo wordlessly.

“Where are you going?” 

Rafe turned to look at you, saw the worry in your eyes and leaned over your bed so his face was level with yours. You would have been frightened by the steel in his eyes if you weren’t so excited by it.

“You asked me how it was going to be okay, right?” He said, voice low and tinged with danger. 

You just nodded, unsure what to make of this sudden change in demeanor. 

“It’s going to be okay because I’m going to make it okay.”

With that he stood and stalked toward the door, stopping to look at you one more time.

“Get some sleep, yeah? I’ll be back in a bit.”

You didn’t bother to ask where he was going, you knew he wasn’t going to tell you. When he had a plan like this, there was no slowing him down. Usually, his plans were self-serving. He was a strategist, like his father. Only now, it seemed, you were the beneficiary of his plot, and you weren’t sure what to expect.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

It sure as hell wasn’t the doorbell ringing at two in the morning. 

It had started to storm and the thunder was rumbling through the house. It took a few rings before you could even hear the doorbell over the sound of the rain. Sarah lay on one side of you, Kie on the other, Cleo at the foot of the bed. They’d come to comfort you after Rafe left and you all cried yourself to sleep talking about the future of Poguelandia.

You accidentally kicked Cleo when you got up, who then kicked Sarah, who reached over and hit Kie in the arm as if it was her fault. Everyone was awake now.

“Noise. Bad. Make it stop,” Sarah grumbled into her pillow. 

“Hit me again and I’ll make you stop breathing,” Kie said, her threat a little deflated considering she made it with her eyes still closed.

The doorbell rang out again, in rapid succession this time, causing everyone to groan and cover their ears.

“Who the hell rings the doorbell at 2 a.m.?” Sarah whined.

“If it’s those goddamn Jehovah’s Witnesses again, I’m gonna shove their little pamphlet down their throats,” Cleo said.

“I’ll get it,” you said through a yawn.

“Wait, you’re gonna go alone?” Kie grabbed your hand to pull you back.

“What if you get murdered?” Sarah said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

Kie and Sarah both climbed out of bed with you, but Cleo didn’t budge.

“If you get murdered let me know,” she said, pulling the blankets tighter around her. “I will avenge you.”

Kie rolled her eyes and pulled the blankets off Cleo, Sarah grabbed her hand to drag her from the bed.

“You’re coming with us, babe,” Sarah said over Cleo’s protests. “And bring your knife.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

Lightning struck somewhere across the marsh at the exact second the door flew open. You and all three girls, wrapped in your blankets and holding various kitchen utensils, screamed at the sight on the other side. A dark figure of a man stood on the front porch, too far from the light for anyone to make out his identity. Cleo stepped in front of you all with her knife wielded.

“Hey! You better show yourself or get lost,” she shouted at the figure. 

As the man slowly made his way into the flickering porch light, you realized you recognized the broad curve of those shoulders, the slope of that neck.

“Rafe,” you whispered.

Just as you identified him, the porch light swept across his face, and all four of you gasped. 

The same places on his face you’d laid gentle kisses just a few hours ago were now black and blue, except in the places they were bloody. And he wasn’t walking slowly toward the light, he was limping, barely able to stand. He leaned against the door frame, holding his right hand in his left, his knuckles were raw and wounded. 

“Rafe!” You repeated, pushing past your friends to get to him. You tried to support his weight but you couldn’t manage it alone. Sarah came to his other side to help catch him as he stumbled forward.

Kie, however, took a defensive step backward, her arms crossed over her chest. Cleo kept her knife raised.

“Think you can put down the knife now, babe,” Sarah told her.

“You never know,” Cleo said, narrowing her eyes at Rafe.

“Cleo, look at him,” you scolded. 

She gave Rafe a once over, finally determining he wasn’t a threat in this state.

“Let’s get him on the couch,” you told Sarah. “Quickly, before he falls.”

Cleo stepped away to allow you to walk Rafe further into the living room. Kie created more distance between herself and your bloodied house guest. You searched her face quickly, it was a mixture of alarm and defensiveness. You could see the decision as it was being made, you tried to stop her but you were too late.

“Kie, wait!” 

But she was already running up the stairs, surely to wake the boys. There was no version of these circumstances that would be made better by your half-awake, hotheaded brother.

You and Sarah finally got Rafe on the couch. He leaned forward, grimacing in pain as he propped his head in his hands. You knelt in front of him, trying to find his eyes with yours.

“Rafe, baby, what happened? Are you okay? Please talk to me.”

You placed your hands on his legs, rubbing soothing circles, begging him to fill the silence with an explanation. You looked at Sarah with pure panic in your eyes, she looked back with concern. Whether it was for you or for her brother, you weren’t sure.

“Rafe, it’s okay, whatever it is, you can tell us,” she encouraged him.

You’d never been more thankful for your best friend. You knew how much it took for her to offer him comfort like that.

You reached up to cup Rafe’s cheek in your hand, touching gently so as to not worsen his pain.

“Please, baby, what happened?”

He finally looked at you, and your heart skipped a beat. You thought maybe he was going to confess something terrible, or else cry out in agony. But instead, he just smiled that soft, sleepy half-smile of his and placed his hand over top of yours, caressing your skin with his thumb.

“I made it okay,” he whispered to you.

Before you could react, footsteps thundered down the stairs behind you, the fury of their descent louder than the storm outside.

“What the hell is going on?” JJ bellowed.

“What are you doing here, Cameron?” Pope followed up.

John B rushed to Sarah’s side, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Everything okay?” He asked the both of you.

“I don’t know,” you shook your head, rising to sit next to Rafe on the couch, slipping your hand into his. The sight only enraged JJ further.

“You have ten seconds to explain yourself and stop bleeding on our fucking couch, Rafe.” JJ barked.

“Jay, can’t you see he’s obviously hurt?” You snapped at your brother.

“Looks more like he did the hurting,” JJ replied.

“You don’t know that! You always assume the worst!” You yelled.

“Because he is the worst!” JJ yelled right back.

You stood in anger, ready to fight your own brother in defense of the man at your side. But Rafe grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards him, not lifting his head as he held you in place. His other hand reached into his back pocket, pulling out a piece of paper that had been folded to protect it from the rain.

Rafe looked up finally, but not at you, at JJ. He extended his arm to offer JJ the piece of paper. 

JJ tiptoed over as if Rafe had somehow booby trapped the floorboards between them. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics.

With all eyes on him, and no sound but the storm outside, JJ unfolded the piece of paper. He read it for a long time. Like, a really long time. The little sister in you had to bite back a joke about his intellect, and you met eyes with Pope to see he was holding back the same comment. Even in this incredibly adult moment, you were kids together.

Finally, JJ looked up from the paper. Staring incredulously at Rafe.

“Is this for real?” JJ asked him, eyebrows raised.

Rafe just nodded, the movement causing the cut on his lip to open, making him wince in pain. You sat down beside him again, watching him anxiously for signs that he was hurt elsewhere. 

JJ just stared at the two of you for a moment before turning and leaving the room, dropping the piece of paper on the coffee table as he left. Pope and John B went to it immediately to read what had caused JJ to storm out, but you didn’t even care at this point, all that mattered was Rafe being okay, you needed him to be okay.

Except, JJ hadn’t stormed out. He had only gone to the kitchen, from which he was now returning, a bottle of whiskey and a bag of frozen peas in hand. He offered both to Rafe, Rafe opted for the whiskey. He twisted open the cap and took a sip, wincing as it went down.

You grabbed the peas from your brother, holding them up to Rafe’s black eye. He flinched at the contact but settled after a minute. JJ watched as Rafe placed his hand on your leg gratefully and handed back the bottle of whiskey.

“What’s the bourbon for? Drowning our sorrows?” Cleo asked.

“No,” John B said, he and Pope looking up from the paper with disbelieving grins. “Celebrating.”

“What does it say?” Kie asked, stepping further into the room, though she continued to eye Rafe like he was a wild animal that could go feral at any minute.

“We got the land back. They’re not rezoning,” Pope explained. “We’re keeping Poguelandia.”

The room froze for a minute, then erupted in a burst of hoots and hollers. Finally, the storm had some noise to compete with. The others hugged and cheered. Sarah rose from the couch and threw herself into John B’s arms.

“How’d you do it, man?” John B asked Rafe.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rafe said, squeezing your leg three times. “I just took care of it, okay?”

He sounded aggressive, like he always did when addressing these six people, but you saw this for what it really was - a peace offering. A grand gesture. A declaration of his love for you. He gave you your home back, he gave you everything. 

As the others continued to celebrate, the volume in the house reaching new heights as they passed around the bottle of whiskey and toasted Poguelandia, you leaned into Rafe, your chin tucked into his shoulder so you could whisper something in his ear.

He smiled at your words, raising his arm to wrap around your shoulders and curling you toward him so he could bring his lips to your temple.

“I love you, too.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

a/n: had to come out of retirement for this one, missed my boy too much. and holy shit did I have fun writing for rafey again. also this is as canon as I'll write Rafe lol

oh, and what did rafe have to do to get Poguelandia back? That stays between me and him xoxo

[jazeswhbhaven]

Theory Time!!! (please don't criticize me too hard on this I'm only throwing caution to the wind)

⚠There are spoilers below the cut from Chapter 7 and other parts of the game new players may have missed or not read yet, proceed at your own risk⚠

Let's begin with the last part of the sub-story. There was not much happening, a friendly day of Ppyong hanging out with the bestie and then....

This stood out to me. He was already acting out of character earlier in the sub story for this chapter after he ended up in the hospital. Before then he was perfectly fine and behaving "as normal". What is it that he wants to forget? Hasn't his life been pretty standard for a average man growing up in SK? He also doesn't do anything too bad, so one starts to question...

Also, beforehand, Minhyeok truthfully never did want to know much about what happens in Hell other than the random question he asked back in Chapter 4 about death when he was visiting Ra-On's parents' graves. *keep this in mind I'm going to mention it later*

Now, when he mentions this here it's a big fucking clue that something is not right. Usually asking hypotheticals like this is prepping the other for the real question/confession just in case they might have a bad reaction to being told the truth. It seems though that Ppyong affirmed his worries that he would be friends with someone who isn't a devil as long as they were on Hell's side. Like Samael (Leamas). But then...it happens....

Minhyeok is fucking gone right before he was about to say something incredibly important and could change the dynamic of his and Ppyong's friendship. What's more is that I'm guessing that right around the time that Ra-On and the others found the Minhyeok child version from what was said here.

And then....this.

This is a big cliffhanger and a huge clue that something is going to happen to Minhyeok to where there will no longer be moments like we saw before between him and Ppyong. Now, I am quite sure this doesn't mean "death" in the way that's typical. This could mean that this version of Minhyeok will no longer exist and this is where my theories come in---->

Theory A: Minhyeok is Ra-On's Guardian Angel

So if go all the way back to beginning, Minhyeok jumped in front of Gabriel's attack to protect Ra-On

"I don't have hard feelings for you"

He says the same thing to Minhyeok before slashing him across the chest in an instant. To me, since the beginning I thought the phrase as a bit odd considering when would Gabriel had seen Minhyeok before?

Unless he absolutely has

Gabriel is not against killing his own people. Neither are his brothers. This is shown plenty times in other instances. Minhyeok originally being a guardian angel for Ra-On since their parents death would be possible because angels, like Leamas have decided to go rouge and no longer do the bidding of "God's plan" if it meant murdering those you loved.

Minhyeok as a Guardian Angel for Ra-On could simply be...over time and each generation he's manifested as a human so he could keep a close eye on the descendants of Solomon. Perhaps before he was Minhyeok, he was someone else, and in the very beginning he was originally an angel who fell in love with Solomon and vowed to protect his descendants in any shape or form.

Now, that's really throwing some stuff out there based on this interaction but don't worry I've got other stuff too to help my thought process based on what happened after he was slashed.

Classic.

But Satan confirmed it. Minhyeok is out of the building. Using human logic...and the amount of time it probably took for Satan and Gabriel to do their thing, he'd been sitting there for possibly over five minutes or more pretty much "dead". Any human gone for that long is guaranteed to be gone. And in the rules of death for any movie I've seen...when you do ask for a loved one to come back, they aren't themselves. Think "Pet Semetary" rules.

But even after the contract was sealed between Satan and Ra-On, he was there to take them anyway regardless of what contract they may or may not have wanted to form.

And there's Minhyeok acting pretty much like himself. Nothing out of the ordinary except this huge scar on his chest.

Now I'm going to take you back to the Halloween event. I don't have specific screenshots for this because I was a dummy and didn't record it 💀 But follow me the best possible.

During Minhyeok's visit to Hell with Ppyong by his side, it was very strange that with every single angel attack, he only suffered scratches and bruises. There's explosions, weapons, and he's defenseless and yet...he didn't immediately die.

THEN, Minhyeok runs into each Seraphim. Michael avoided him, Raphael attacked him and threw him into a wall but then decided...nah I won't. Then Gabriel yet again tried to kill him but this time it didn't work due to the contract Ra-On made and it overriding the damage Gabriel's scythe brings...to where Minhyeok can not be killed by it ever again. Gabriel decides to pack it up though frustrated because he ofc was unaware of said contract ever being made on Minhyeok in the first place.

Here's where my Guardian Angel theory also gets somewhat supported in a strange way...

Minhyeok must have been under Gabriel's rule, hence why he just keeps trying to kill him because he went against God in the first place. Also it appears that Gabriel only focuses on things he deems important so anything else might get ignored or tucked away so he doesn't remember all the details correctly. I think his speech pattern is not only a part of his personality, but him truly trying to remember if he already said something or did something before.

The reason the other two Seraphim didn't bother touching him, is that they are aware of his purpose and his status after seeing the slash mark glow on his chest. (yes it was glowing apparently)

Ya'll are in luck I found this screenshot in one of my old as fuck posts lol

You see how he's perfectly fine??? I even questioned back then how could he possibly be okay after being fucking thrown through a brick building by Raphael who could clearly kill him in a second flat.

yeahhhhh yeahhh something's up

But the thing about it, is remember Satan said Minhyeok wouldn't remember too much of anything after being revived and the thing is Minhyeok does end up talking with Gabriel and he does remember him and Gabriel remembers him too.

But before anything else gets discussed Satan shows up anyway and that's done and done.

Now if you're wondering how could no one detect that Minhyeok is an angel the entire time, it's very easy.

Remember no one could clock Leamas as an angel? Everyone pretty much accepted him as a devil and went along with it. The only one who was even skeptical was Sitri but I chalked that up to him being like that in the first place.

I believe that because it was Gabriel that disguised him, that power is great enough to even trick the Kings, so imagine an angel's soul that travels through every human destined to be near Solomon's descendants? With that much time to cloak yourself, surely no one would be able to notice anything.

Minhyeok's memories, everything he went through ofc is valid. But he's had to do it often and so well, that each life he lives as a human gets eaiser, that is until...something different happens.

The reason all of this is coming to a head, is because this Guardian Angel never expected to fall in love with one of Solomon's descendants, that being Ra-On and now it's complicated.

How does this tie in with child Minheyok?

He mentions once after his fainting spell "I should have grown up sooner" and then later..."Growing up isn't always a good thing" It could be that now since Ra-On is in Hell, and he can't do much to protect them while on Earth he feels perhaps he has failed them somehow and in order to truly save them...he has to start over. The only way he can is to manifest himself in Hell as said child in order to look over them and then later he would then reveal his angel form once all is said and done.

Theory B: Minhyeok became an angel after dying

Let's start with some lore from Chapter 4's sub-story. Ppyong made it very simple that humans just die, they are not meant to go to Heaven nor Hell, their soul is just sort of floating around aimlessly.

However, the options as he states, if you have special talents or are a good being you are called to God and given a chance to either live as a devil in Hell, an angel or Heaven or forever in the human world.

Given the circumstances, that Minhyeok sacrificed himself for Ra-On, this is very much an option that happened, however there was a contract made at the same time to bring him back and this could affect things. Also, God is MIA so these terms could very much be different in Minhyeok's case.

Gabriel pretty much made the choice for him with his scythe. The contract brought him back and because of the injury now he's no longer the Minhyeok everyone knew and grew up with. The angel part of him is dormant during this time and low key to where he doesn't even realize it himself. Thus why everything went back to "normal" for him.

But in Chapter 7, once Ra-On got closer to the Ark Covenant....things were changing up. And the part of the trailer of Gabriel mentioning "did he have something to do with that" and a obscured silhouette of a mystery angel....

It's very possible that Gabriel indirectly turned Minhyeok into an angel and now he has someone to help bring Ra-On to Heaven which was part of the plan in the beginning.

This would be why we see Minhyeok suddenly acting out of character after his fainting spell, suddenly being reminiscent and also tell Minseok (the older brother) to be careful.

This would also explain Minseok not recognizing his own brother and being uneasy the entire time about his behavior being out of the ordinary. This theory is uh a little harder for me to validate but it's there!

Theory C: Minhyeok isn't Minhyeok at all, but rather a clone of an existing angel in Heaven meant to keep an eye on if any of Solomon's descendants pop up

This could easily tie in my previous theories in bits and pieces. Gabriel having no issue killing said "clone" because he knows he can just make another one and it's purpose has been fulfilled. Since Ra-On is still alive though, this causes problems for him so he has to go back and rethink.

Issue though, is that Ra-On cares for Minhyeok and asked for him to be brought back. So now this clone is running around, Gabriel is pissed about that but not too concerned which is why he's left him alone, again he's stuck on Earth, unable to get in Gabriel's way so why should he care?

When Ra-On is in the Reverse Babel Tower, Gabriel has to set everything into motion, but at the same time Minhyeok's clone is reacting to said change as well. This is when we get child Minhyeok who could very well, just a different form of Minhyeok's true angel form which isn't ready to be revealed to Ra-On just yet. This could also tie into why Minhyeok on Earth vanished. His existence is no longer necessary which is why that was the last time Ppyong would ever see him again.

Things to think about:

So...what about him giving Ra-On his cum for energy?

It's funny that none of the devils ever stated that Solomon needed both exclusively. It could be that he was just that powerful of a human and adapted so well that he didn't need both sources.

At the same time, since Minhyeok wouldn't be human in either case, perhaps it was never human essence needed in the first place, but angel essence and devil essence to keep humans thriving in Hell.

Where did Solomon get his dose of angel essence? Well...that I'm unsure of without throwing a wild ass accusation that he didn't need it because he had formed a relationship with God, and thus one night with him meant he'd have essence for eternity.

wild huh...

So what about the Kim family? It could be possible that Minhyeok didn't even exist until Ra-On's parents died. This would be why Minseok had a lapse in not recognizing him in the hospital because he never existed in the first place and it was just a false memory planted in his head.

Because think about it, after Minheyok's disappearance, and one day Ppyong tries to find Minseok as Juno only to be told "Huh? I don't have a younger brother, you must have me mistaken for someone else." and this crushes Ppyong's world. (i know sad stuff I APOLOGIZE)

I'm pretty sure that's all I had in terms of what I think is going on with Minhyeok, which tbh this ruins my idea that he and Ra-On are the OTP...because I mean what are they gonna go back to? He ain't there anymore and it's very much leaning toward the fact that Minhyeok is really an angel T^T

Like??? I wouldn't even know what to do in that instance as Ra-On I think I'd just be irritated and go to Niflheim and sleep in Belphie's room for like a week or something or have Buer do that pressure thing so I can be knocked out for a while. ANYWAYS, as I said at the very beginning these are just my theories and I don't expect any of them to make sense to everyone nor do I think it's gonna happen exactly as I stated. BUT yes, please feel free to pop in my inbox or reply with your thoughts. I'm sure we are all thinking similar in some ways.

[cannimumsable]

The pattern is that people straight up do not read™. or they read a 3-5 tweet summary of what happened and treat it as if they did. or because shonen expectations based on "the classics" is bullshit and significantly rotted people's brains when deciding wether an ending is good or not.

Which could be nothing right

yeahhh. i will forever regret reading the last chapter through leaks because it was a dreadful experience, and watching everyone ever shit on it for like a week after genuinely made me want to just get off the internet forever or something because i felt like an idiot for liking the ending (all this is my fault for getting too invested in both tumblr and mha etc etc).

All the "it's rushed" and pacing complaints barely matter to me at this point because you just cannot feel the pacing of something correctly when you're reading it exclusively through leaks. you can't absorb info like that. And don't get me started on the number of complaints and criticisms I've seen of the last chapter that are just provably bullshit (I saw someone say Izuku didn't get a statue lmao. yes he did, you just read the fucking leaks and watched twitter drama unfold instead of reading the actual chapter i fear).

[victorluvsalice]

-->Namely, send the trio on a date! As in, all three of them on one date. Because, as it turns out, the lovely Lumpinou had updated the "Open Love Life" mod while I wasn't looking to allow Sims to go on multi-person dates! :D How this works is that Lumpinou made it a custom “social event,” so it’s planned like a party instead of a traditional date – Victor, having woken up flirty and suggested the idea to Alice, was the “date host,” and Alice and Smiler the “guests.” XD And the location of their date?

Center Park in the Myshuno Meadows neighborhood of San Myshuno! Which – uh – really isn’t all that great shakes, when you look at it. There’s a nice little gazebo, and a wedding area, and some nice fountains, and an observatory, and a house converted into a reception area for said weddings, but – not a lot of actual activities, you know? I tried spicing it up by adding some lot traits (Natural Light, Convivial, and Chef’s Kitchen for the kitchen on-lot) and a chess table into one of the sitting areas, but – eh. Starting to think I should have gone with my first instinct and just downloaded a replacement from the gallery.

-->However – thanks to Petey Plays It’s videos, I knew that the area AROUND the park was pretty hopping. And thus instead of staying in the sad snowy park, the gang instead headed down to the little party bar spot down the road, with its picnic tables and busking area, to pick up some snacks! Specifically, Victor and Alice both got some meat and cheese platters, and Smiler ordered a Plasma Jane to keep their thirst in check. :) I had a little trouble at first figuring out where to seat everyone to keep them all together so they could chat and fulfill date goals, but eventually I got them all lined up at the bar where they could talk, flirt, and tell jokes and stories. :) Which led to Victor and Smiler picking up a new family relationship – they’re officially Jokesters together now! Which is exactly what I wanted their relationship to be, so suits me fine!

-->Anyway -- Alice finished her meal first (thanks to werewolf "manners") -- to keep her busy while Victor and Smiler finished up, I had her go check out the nearest local monument plaque (celebrating the fishing heritage of San Myshuno and the Spangled Herring local to the area -- I didn't realize the city HAD lore. Interesting!). She then plopped down to make a snow angel as Victor and Smiler wandered over to share some party spirit and deep conversations (which Smiler decided they officially liked). The trio then indulged in a few smooches (well, Smiler and Alice both smooched Victor while the other looked on approvingly -- compersion!) –

[arolesbianism]

There's a well 🎉

[sabertoothwalrus]

There’s something I love love loveeee about Laios and how badly he wants to be cool.

Let me preface with this: in general, I believe the harder you try to be cool, the less cool you actually are. The less you care what people think about you, if you’re “cringe” or “weird”, the more likely people will perceive you as confident and self-assured.

There are countless pieces of media where characters try to fit in with some group, change every part of themself to look/act like what they’re “supposed” to be, and end up miserable, often realizing the people they’re trying to impress aren’t worth the trouble.

I’ve experienced this in my own life too! Sometimes when I go out I wear a rainbow propeller cap! Cause I think it’s funny and silly and!! I ALWAYS get compliments!! I don’t wear it to be cool, I wear it because it makes me happy. And people overall have a positive reaction to it. it’s a huge contrast to when I was teenager and didn’t really put as much of myself into my appearance/wardrobe, and barely left any kind of impression on people.

So anyway, let’s get into it.

Laios… he’s been hurt so badly by people. He resented humanity for it. And yet, he still yearns for the approval of others. He wants FRIENDS!!!! and was angry and frustrated to learn his perception of his relationship with Shuro was so drastically different than Shuro’s!!!!

He KNEW that people were put-off by his love of monsters. Up until Falin got eaten, he deliberately suppressed how much he talked about it with others. He probably thought by not talking about monsters so much, it was working!! He was doing all the Right Things now! So Shuro confessing he always hated him was a huge blow.

But the reality is, he loves monsters. And most importantly, he loves cool monsters. He fantasizes about what would make the Ultimate Monster.

He feels very strongly about what he considers “cool” as well. He finds all aspects of monsters fascinating, but can still be HORRIBLY underwhelmed when they look too lame for his tastes.

He knows most people don’t feel the same way he does. He knows his “cool” is everyone else’s “weird”. It’s so tragically sweet how he latches onto Kabru the moment he shows interest in monsters, and takes every opportunity to infodump about them to him.

He wants people to find monsters as cool as he does!! But, he also wants people to think he’s as cool as he finds monsters.

Like!!! djkfghadkfjg IT DOESN'T EVEN BOTHER HIM WHEN PEOPLE HAVE A WRONG IMPRESSION OF HIM! He's FLATTERED by it. It's almost like, at this point, it doesn't matter to him if people don't like him. People can not like him and still think he's cool.

And my favorite thing is, it works. Laios IS cool as fuck. You KNOW he thought he looked so badass when he did this and he was RIGHT:

And yet, this is him trying very hard to look cool. But it's Laios's version of cool. It's almost contradictory, in that sense. Cause he knows people still don't get it. Like. He wants to be cool. He doesn't care about the "normal" ways to be cool. He thinks his cringe thing is cool. He does his cringe thing, that people very much do still think is cringe. So you would think that, since he wants people to think he's cool, he would not do the cringe thing. But he wore the pelt because he thought it was cool. And people clapped and cheered for him anyway.

is what he's doing really so different than this? ^

YAYYYYY WOOO GO LAIOS YOURE SO COOL!!!!!!!

[dragonsfictavern]

Beyond Desperation

Halsin Silverbough x Reader

a/n: Halsin and Astarion, my two main mans. I couldn’t not write something for Halsin. Some of the description may have gotten a little size kinky but dude is huge so it makes sense to me.

summary: After a particularly adrenaline endorsing fight ensues, Halsin needs desperately to feel close to you. His first course of action is to connect his body and soul with yours, replacing the aches of the fight with the aches of strenuous activities. Leading him to go a little bit overboard and apologize through vigorous after-care.

warning: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, biting, marking, body worship, light subspace, phenomenal after-care.

word count: 2.7k

It was due to a planned attack that started all of this. You had been there of course, fighting by his side. He had been particularly looking forward to it all day, his energy levels high despite his calm demeanor. You could tell having learned to read his body language and all the other things he never needed to speak aloud. Halsin was itching to help and frankly, so were you. Both of you aiming to look out for the natural order of things.

But then something happened that you probably both should’ve expected. In his excitement, Halsin had gone a bit too wild for a first turn of attack. After that, it wasn’t much longer until the entire fight was over and you all had clearly won. The other guys, while having gotten a few good hits in, couldn’t last long compared to Halsin’s stamina.

Afterwards, he went right to you, still overwhelmingly pent up from the very underwhelming experience of a fight. Checking to make sure you weren’t seriously injured. His heading straight for you was growing to be somewhat of a common occurrence. You tried not to look into it or think too deeply about it. You knew the way in which he cared for others. But that didn’t stop your heart from warming that he came right for you when becoming aware of his need. That he trusted you to be able to take care of him.

Though right now you were starting to feel a strange kindred bond that your opponents had with him. That's to say you were beginning to fear you too didn’t have the stamina to match up with Halsin. Your nails dig into Halsin’s stomach, bringing out a low growl from him as he helps you ride him into another orgasm for you both.

Like clockwork a hoarse scream is ripped from your throat as Halsin brings you to another one of your countless rippling climaxes. Your orgasm coats his cock just as your walls spasm around him and he groans, his eyes clouded over in a lust-filled daze. The only thing on his mind is bringing you to your peak once again, desperate to feel the way you clench around him as he empties himself inside of you. Desperate to see and feel your body as he gives you pleasure. Even as a puddle of your combined release soaks into the bedroom sheets of the local inn.

Your body convulses as sharp prickles erupt over your body from his deep thrusts and the beginnings of overstimulation. A whimper moves past your lips as you sag against Halsin’s broad warm chest, exhaustion falling over you after hours of euphoric bliss.

“You’ve done so well for me, dove. I knew you would,” Halsin’s low gravelly voice whispers along the shell of your ear as he leans down to your height. Your body twitches as he continues rocking into you though you can tell he’s restraining himself. Holding back from taking you again so soon after such an intense orgasm. You whine, burying your face in his neck as your hands trail up his overheated skin till they wrap into his hair. Both of you feeling needy for touch right now. For closeness and connection. “Sh, sh, sh. I’ve got you.”

“More Halsin, please,” you croak out, lips brushing along his raging pulse. Your hips start to move with his and your jaw drops, feeling the burn as his thick girth continues to stretch and split you open. But Halsin’s hands are right there on your ass, pushing himself inside you. Your body warps into him, a long mewl leaving you. But just as you think it’s about to get so good again, Halsin’s hands tighten, keeping himself firmly planted in your walls.

“Relax, it’s alright. Take your time. I know you got one more in you and I’m not going anywhere,” Halsin’s voice is a low rumble that vibrates against your skin as he peppers kisses along your shoulder. Your body still shakes but you’re itching to move, to keep him stuffing you full of his cum till he forces it out with another healthy dose of it. You truly don’t know where your minds gone when you reach this place with him. The crown of his cock rests sweetly against your cervix and it only serves to drive you deeper into insanity.

“Don’t- don’t make me wait. I can’t and I know you can’t either. I know you need it and I can do this for you. I want to do this for you,” you beg earnestly as a light fog grows heavier in your mind and your arousal for him heightens. You know this’ll give Halsin peace of mind, you know it’ll calm him after the fight you all went through. You want nothing more than to give that to him. So you whisper the one thing you hope will push him over the edge. “Just let go.”

Halsin is frozen, keeping you frozen along with him. His forehead now resting heavily on your shoulder, his nose brushing along your collarbone as he inhales heavy amounts of your scent. Then with a final squeeze to your ass, he lifts you up his cock, only leaving in the tip before his hips snap harshly back up into you. You cry out, cunt fluttering around his cock to which it responds with a twitch. Your bodies having been molded and in sync to each others.

Your hands caress his ears in order to intensify his pleasure. You feel the rumble in his chest and you press closer to him. Using his hold on your bottom, Halsin moves you up and down on his dick with ease, starting you both at a hurried pace. Your jaw drops, teeth nicking the skin of his neck.

“You’re ok,” Halsin breathes out, his voice low. You can hear the way he inhales and exhales roughly, tiny grunts leaving him with every wet smack of your hips meeting. You can only respond with broken whines, eyes fluttering as you lean all your weight on his imposing yet comforting figure. Halsin is more than prepared to carry you through this as he fucks into you.

His hands grip your body tightly as he fights for control, not wanting to be more rough than you can handle. His nails lightly dig into your skin, breaking skin in a way that has you moaning as pricks of pain join in with the vast amounts of pleasure. You know it’s sure to leave a mark or two but you can’t help but want more. Something that won’t fade away in a day or two.

You writhe against Halsin’s body, wanting his cock to touch every depth inside you as he maintains his frenzied pace. Lifting his head from your shoulder, he maneuvers around in order to more easily trail his soft lips over your heated body. He follows a pathway down your neck, tongue teasing your shoulder. His back arches so he can continue on along your chest. You gasp as his teeth bite at you softly, making your body buzz and quiver. His lips seem unable to leave your skin. You note the way his body shakes, his breath mixing with his groans and coming out in short pants.

You moan as his nails sink in a little further. Head thrown back you bask in every sensation you’re greeted with. It’s only when Halsin’s lips pause just above your collarbone do some of your senses come back to you. Though it remains difficult as you feel as though your body is floating in an air of bliss.

“W-what?” You try to ask through your haze, but talking proves to be difficult as every single thrust is punching the air out of your lungs. You barely even register it as Halsin’s teeth sink deep into your flesh. You’re so consumed by pleasure the puncture feels like faint tingles that only increase your ecstasy. You cry out more from surprise than anything. Your hands hold onto his hair tightly as you keep him right there inside you. Now in every way.

Halsin, so caught up in the way your tight cunt sucks him in with every thrust, the warm wetness encompassing him, and your beautiful body welcoming everything he is, he couldn’t stop the overflowing emotions whirling around in his mind. Before he knew it his teeth were out and burying themselves in deep. He was going to take them out immediately— he was going to apologize. But then he felt you tug him closer.

So instead he finds his mind completely spinning. Every time he starts to lift you up his cock, his hips snap back up into you as if desperate to stay. You whimper, back arching unnaturally as you’re unable to escape a second of pleasure, not getting a moment of reprieve. His brutal pace is relentless as he jackhammers his way inside you. You squirm but it only has him pressing harder into your G-spot, causing a sharp choking noise to leave you from the shock.

Your body tenses as you can’t escape the intense sensations inflicted upon you. You try to open your mouth and express it but all that leaves is a long moan that only has Halsin start sucking at the skin around his mark, his teeth still embedded in you. Your stomach clenches painfully as your orgasm reaches higher and higher. Goosebumps spread across your skin like wildfire as you feel yourself burning from the inside out. That burning heat coming from the way his girth fills you, consumes you.

Halsin, having become attuned with your body, senses that you’re on the precipice of something magnificent. He doesn’t hesitate to slam your body back down on his dick and grind your clit roughly on the hair of his happy trail. You choke, your body jerking with violent force as the cord at the bottom of your belly snaps. A ringing echos in your ears and you can faintly hear your screaming beyond that as your climax crashes into you in waves, one right after the other as he doesn’t stop the stimulation on your clit.

A few moments later his teeth slip out of you as he goans from your clenching down on him. A few quick jerks of his hips and he’s emptying another load into your walls. You feel his cum flood through you, adding to the mix of busy sensations you’re experiencing. Yet this one has to be your favorite. Your body convulses uncontrollably and you feel a faint spark of worry as black spots suddenly surround your vision. You quickly call out Halsin’s name before you fall into darkness, your body going limp in his hold.

When you wake, you’re laying on the bed flat on your back. You wonder what woke you up and why you were asleep in the first place when a shocking texture brushes between your folds. You hiss, body jerking back. You look down just as Halsin’s head snaps up to look at you. Seeing a wet cloth in his hand and the tortured look in his eye has your memories flooding back to the front of your mind in an instant.

His gaze only lasts a moment before moving back down between your thighs. You see as that tortured look increases as his face twists. With a featherlight touch he cleans you up, being careful with the wet cloth as he wipes everything away. Your body aches but his soothing touch is enough to make you instantly relax back into the bed.

“Oh, Halsin,” you sigh, voice hoarse from your screams, watching as he avoids your gaze. Your limbs feel as though they weigh a million pounds, so all you can do is lay and watch as Halsin internally tortures himself over what just happened. Your heart flutters as he bends down, pressing soft apologetic kisses across your hips.

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry,” Halsin mumbles after a few long moments of silence. He grimaces, shaking his head as his eyes once again catch onto the forming bruises around your hips he’d just kissed. Looking away for a moment he puts some green paste he most likely made on his hands. He then leans forward, hands sliding over your bum and to the small puncture wounds from his nails. He makes sure to rub it in carefully to each mark. You wait until he’s finished and sitting back next to your legs.

“Halsin c’mere,” you call gently, loving the evident care shown from him while also needing you both need more. The air surrounding you is cold and empty as the fog is all but disappeared from your mind and you once again feel everything fully. You see Halsin hesitate, doing a double take to meet your gaze. Emotion rises in your chest and your voice cracks as you ask again. “Please, come here.”

His face twists in pain at the small break in your call. He doesn’t waste another moment before crawling up the length of his bed. Laying by your side he remains close while keeping a few inches of space between you. His eyes frantically move up and down your naked body, checking you over for what was probably the millionth time.

“How’re you feeling? Do you hurt? Did I hurt you?” He asks quietly, one question firing off as soon as he finishes asking the first. Finding your strength, you sluggishly lift an arm and cup his cheeks in order to bring his focus to your face. His cheek falls into your palm, soaking up your touch. “I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” you say in an attempt to calm his guilty heart. But Halsin immediately scoffs, not buying that for a second. In the moment, it had briefly scared you. But you were ok. Now, more than anything, you wanted to laugh about how he’d made you feel so good your body gave out. Though you could see he wasn’t in the joking mood right now.

“You cannot say such things, sweetheart, look at you,” Halsin says, motioning a hand along your stiff body, eyes following it. That same hand carefully lands around your waist. He rubs his thumb in calming circles, bringing a warmth to spread through you. Guilt continues to radiate off of him and it hurts your heart to see. He closes his eyes, angling his head to kiss along your wrist and down your arm. “I lost control— that is far from ok,”

“I wanted to go again. I don’t regret it, even now,” you admit, thumb caressing his cheek. Both of you subconsciously working to soothe the other. Halsin’s eyes open and meet yours. You can see his emotions going haywire through the depth of his eyes. He feels so much and carries so much on his back. He’s incredibly strong but you want him to know he doesn’t have to carry it alone.

“I was reckless. It was my responsibility to take care of you, make sure I wasn’t too rough. Now look at you,” he murmurs against your skin as he continues his soft kisses. With your hand now free of his face, you wrap it back into his hair. Such a simple touch from him has your heart beating out of your chest.

“Look at me. You’re taking care of me perfectly,” you express, letting your emotion shine through to him. His soft eyes flicker up to look at you as his lips reach your shoulder. They now look the tiniest bit more forgiving than they did a moment ago. Without moving even an inch away, his arms slip around your body. He curls you into himself, fully encapsulating you within his form. You hum contently, curling your arms between your bodies and brushing along his smooth skin.

“And I won’t stop. Is there anything you need?” His face now right in front of yours and his body surrounding you completely, you feel a million times better. Comfort and safety solidify themselves within you. Your eyes look between his as you can see his full attention on you and anything you may need of him. Right now the idea of needing more seems impossible as you have everything you could ask for right here.

“Just this.”

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Golden Mushroom

Debut: Mario Party 2

The more I look at this mushroom, the more I choose to view it as cheese. Just nice solid cheddar. But it's not! It's metal or something. Blech! This probably does not seem like a very interesting subject for a post. Maybe you're thinking "what in the New Super Mario Bros. 2 is this", and yeah, that is fair. But look!

See? He wants it. He wants it quite a lot. Doesn't that make YOU want it? It must be pretty good if a little rascal feels entitled to it! And it's on a pedestal. That means it's really good! If you had it, you could do such awesome stuff as put it on a pedestal of your own. And then you could look at it.

Ok I'm gonna be honest! I don't even want it. I don't know what I would do with it. What does it even DO? In Superstar Saga, it restores all HP and BP, so that's pretty great! It's a miracle cure, like famous mid game Dr. Mario Miracle Cure!... But then in Bowser's Inside Story, it was replaced by Star Candy. And in the Bowser's Inside Story REMAKE, it was half-replaced, because instead of Star Candy, Bowser eats Cheesy Chicken. He's going to give himself diarrhea!

Obviously, New Super Mario Bros. 2 is where the Golden Mushroom got a big role, but it's the Gold FLOWER that turns Mario into Gold Mario. What of the Golden Mushroom, then? It gives 50 coins and that's all. Just 50 of them. Not even enough to afford a Life! Some meetings could have been an email, and this mushroom could have been a coin.

The Clown Hat from Odyssey costs 50 coins. That's all this mushroom is worth! A cardboard party hat! And yet, if you go to Super Nintendo World, they expect you to want to beat up Bowser Jr. with bombs, for stealing one mushroom the price of a party hat. It's not worth it, people! Just let the kid buy a funny hat! It's more worthwhile than leaving the mushroom on a pedestal and doing nothing with it!

And while I'm on the topic of underwhelming golden mushrooms, did you know that there was an event featuring the Wonder Flower in Super Mario Run? If you collected it, the wacky effect was that... Gold Goombas would appear, and be locked into a single animation, and function as coins! I don't know what the point of it was. Gold Goombas aren't even in Wonder! They're in NSMB2! Oh... why, I'm so mad! All of these golden mushrooms are mid as hell! If I see one more underwhelming golden mushroom, I'm gonna... I don't even know. I might have to just start biting strangers. And people don't like me when I bite strangers! I hear something now... that better not be another golden mushroom...!

Oh! The Mario Kart one is good :] Yay

[shanastoryteller]

Hi, long time reader. Thank you for your incredible brain and bringing your writing into the outside world. You might have answered it before but I don’t remember ever seeing it. How many times do you read/watch/refer to your source material? Like, do you decide to rewatch a series once every couple of years or do you watch it once, get inspired and then mostly focus on your own interpretation

hi! thank you! :)

answering publicly because it got kinda long and i thought other people might be interested

it depends! usually on how closely a fic is in conversation with the source material and if i've consumed it recently. like for my dead boy detective fic, i'd just watched it, i didn't need to review anything, and i'm often inspired to write after reading/watching

i haven't read harry potter since maybe high school, possibly middle school. i was 13 when deathly hallows came out and i remember being so underwhelmed by it, especially since i hadn't really liked half blood prince either, and i don't think really reread it after. for siat i just use sparknotes or google something something if i can't remember because for a long time it was in pretty close conversation with canon. i'd literally read the sparknotes for a couple chapters, think about how i wanted that to go in my fic, and update the outline. my other hp fic i'd just google something if i couldn't remember

while writing lynchpin, which was very in conversation with canon, i'd literally watch an episode, or to a certain point in the episode, then go and write until that point. i had stuff and arcs in mind, but that's how i kept pace and made sure i didn't miss anything on accident. however, i haven't watched untamed since completing lynchpin, which was my first untamed fic, but nothing else has been so closely in conversation with canon

i didn't consume any canon prior to writing my avengers fic because what good would it do me lol. speak of her is directly after infinity war pt 2 which i've never seen. i just knew that tony died and i thought it was bullshit

at the rind was while i was in the middle of a house rewatch, but anything after season 4/5 i probably googled because that's when i thought the show started to decline

pour herbel oil was definitely in pretty close conversation with the canon. i did with nirvana in fire kind of what i did with untamed, watching any scene with yujin and figuring out how i wanted to slide it a little to the left

supernatural is probably one where i'm most frequently checking the source material directly. this is partially because i first watched it a looooong time ago (like watched real time through most of season 4, although i really hated what they were doing with dean, then fully fell off when season 5 started because i hated the direction it was going so much) and because the boys and their relationship have gone through so many arcs and cycles that i want to make sure i'm hitting them both correctly for the time period they're in. see something say something i'd rewatch the episodes with cases i was including, but not much else, but that fic is probably in the least conversation with canon. back was a direct result of me rewatching when the levee breaks and hating it. no safe investments was just me being like, i think dean should have crashed out waaaay more about sam dying the first time. once i decided to expand the great puzzle i rewatched season 5 so i'd know what i'm working with and it was a SLOG at times, especially early season 5, because the way sam is treated just fills me with rage. but it's like, if i'm going to have the boys dig themselves out of this hole of bullshit, i need to know how deep it goes

so the broad answer is usually not at all, except with specific fics that are in such close conversation with canon that i have to make sure i'm hitting the timeline/references right. i have a pretty good memory so unless we're getting that specific, i don't feel the need to review source material that i haven't in a while

[daydreamgoddess14]

What's it take to get your number?

What's it take to bring you home?

Here she is! My first Bucky fic (😬)

From my Valentine's Lovebomb event, this one is for Emily 💜

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader insert, no use of y/n, no applicable warnings - just some cute fluff while I dip my toe into another fandom.

Main Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Of all of the things Yelena had talked you into, this was undoubtedly the worst.

And she had, of course, talked you into some truly awful shit.

If she could see you now, scowling into your margherita, she’d probably throw something at you.

Hey! Smile a little, huh?

As it happens, the thought of it does make you smile.

She's been good to you since you met. Being Valentina's PA was often an utterly thankless existence. The way she'd collected up Yelena, Alexei, John Walker and the others had been admirable.

Adding Bucky Barnes into the mix had been a goddamn coup.

They mostly went about their business as instructed and paid you little to no attention, but Yelena had spotted you still working away late into the night just before Christmas. She'd disappeared and returned twenty minutes later with cartons of Cantonese food which she insisted you shared.

Since then, a tentative friendship had blossomed between you both.

At the bar, there’s plenty of small talk going on in the background. Lots of organising.

The tables have been arranged loosely in a grid with plenty of space between them to move around.

Not that you have to move anywhere.

The instructions have been made very clear.

Yelena read them out with such glee, you suggested that she go instead.

So you sit, and you wait… then they ring a bell and the men come in and also sit down, yes? Hmm… says you have five minutes. Seems not long enough? Then bell goes again and you stay in your seat. The men move around and you have more handsome men to talk to! Fun, right?

Oh yes. Great fun. So much fun.

Next time Yelena suggests speed dating, you’re going to drag her kicking and screaming with you.

You steal a glance at the time, only a few minutes until the shitshow kicks off.

You signal the waiter for another drink, god knows you need it.

A couple of deep, cleansing breaths and the bell goes.

The noise and activity around you does distract you.

You glance around quickly at the couple of people around you, the beautiful women in their barely there dresses, poker straight hair and lashes so long they could be used as a fan.

You’ve made an effort, of course.

A certain blonde pain in your ass made sure of it.

This top, this skirt, these shoes.

She threw them at you.

Girl, the skirt has pockets!

The woman at the table next to you looks completely underwhelmed by her first five minute attendee.

Her eyes wide and her mouth in a fixed line.

The poor guy loosens his tie nervously.

A tie? Yikes.

He seems uncomfortable, clearly aware of the unfavorable impression he's making.

You’re almost transfixed by the car crash about to unfold in front of you.

This has got to be more entertaining than your date, right?

This is the shit you could watch all night long.

A low cough alerts you to your own car crash.

You steel yourself, a fake smile already in place.

“Hey,” he says.

The smile begins to slip.

You know that voice.

Why do you know that voice?

How do you know that voice?

By the time you actually look at him, the smile is long gone.

“Oh fuck.” It could be a whisper. It could be a squeak.

Either way, it’s barely audible so of course he heard it.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he grins, slightly incredulously.

“What are you doing here, Bucky?”

“Same as you, apparently.”

“Did you follow me?”

“Why the hell would I follow you?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Did Yelena put you up to this? I’m going to fucking kill -”

“She didn’t put me up to anything,” he held up his hands in surrender. “And, I’d like to see you try,” he adds disparagingly.

He’s not wrong.

“So, why are you here?”

“Sam thought it would be a good idea. He says I’m too introspective.”

“Nice. He’s such a good friend,” you bite back.

“Right? He’s got enough charm for both of us.”

“So you don’t want to be here either?”

“Does it look like it?” He frowned.

“Fine. So we sit in silence until you can move on.” You tell him sternly, reaching for your drink and taking a long gulp. You signal the waiter again for another.

He scoffed and shook his head.

“I’m not sitting in silence. Sam says I should talk more, so let's talk,” he declares, and you just roll your eyes at his stubbornness.

“What the hell is there to even talk about?” you ask, “you literally have no idea who I am?”

Bucky seems undeterred by your attitude.

“What kind of books do you like?” he asks casually. “What kind of… seriously?” You eye him suspiciously.

“Yeah, you’ve always got your head in a book. You say I don't know who you are but I've seen you. Recommending stuff to Yelena - not to me, though - so what do you like to read?” He leaned forward on the table, making it wobble.

“Anything,” you mutter with a sigh, “everything, really. The classics, fantasy, thrillers, romance.” He nods along as you speak. “What about you?” You ask hesitantly.

“I’ve been reading the classics lately, actually,” he admits.

“Oh sure,” you roll your eyes.

“Hey, it’s true. I just finished Pride and Prejudice.”

“And did you enjoy it?” As you ask your question, the bell rings out.

“Gentlemen, time to move on to the next table please,” the organiser calls out.

“Hold that thought, doll. Guess I’ll see you around?” He stood, waiting patiently for the man in the tie to move along.

The woman at the neighboring table suddenly seems thrilled with her new date. Bucky offers her a smile, and she responds with a giggle.

He takes his seat at the next table, but instead of engaging with his new date, he leans back over to you.

“I loved it. I like the chemistry between Elizabeth and Darcy and the layers of their relationship. It’s probably my favourite romance.”

The woman next to you looks a little put out.

“Your favourite romance? Which others have you read?” You can’t help but ask.

The man directly across from you is growing increasingly annoyed, watching the conversation unfold with a sense of irritation, like he's watching a tense tennis match.

“I liked it more than Jane Eyre, and Wuthering Heights.”

A small, surprised smile curves up the corner of your mouth as Bucky continues to ignore his next date.

“Uhh, excuse me?” she interjected, her voice laced with irritation.

“Sorry ma’am, I’ll just be a minute.” Bucky calmly replies, not breaking eye contact with you.

“I’m not a fan of Wuthering Heights either, I tried to be in my tortured youth.” You admit.

He laughs and it’s… magical.

“Any others you’d recommend?”

“North and South -”

“Gaskell?” He confirms, you nod. He mirrors your nod, a small smirk crossing his face.

“Yeah, another brooding gentleman and headstrong woman.”

“Huh, sounds familiar.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

Meanwhile, your new date grows increasingly impatient, tapping on the table incessantly, while Bucky's date becomes frantic as she attempts to catch the organiser's attention.

The man at your own table finally interjects, addressing Bucky directly.

“Excuse me, buddy, you're supposed to move on after five minutes, you know?”

“Sorry man, just seeing where this goes,” he shrugs before looking back at you. “Got any newer recommendations? Feels like I’m… stuck in the past sometimes,” he grins lopsidedly.

“Romance, or something else?”

“Let’s stick with romance,” he leans in with his elbows on his knees.

“Try Emily Henry,” you tell him as your new drink arrives.

“Excuse me sir, you do need to move on?” The waiter insists as he carefully places your drink down.

Bucky sighs, turning back in his seat to face his actual date.

“Finally, I might be able to grab a quick minute before the bell goes -” your date starts with a smile.

“Emily Henry, huh? Book Lovers author? I saw it but didn’t pick it up,” Bucky leans over again.

“I’ve got a copy, I’ll bring it over.”

“That’s great, thanks.”

“And North and South, too?” You ask.

“I look forward to it.”

“Excuse me!” Your date interjects loudly.

You look down at the table with a blush as Bucky turns away again.

“So, how long have you been single?” You hear your date ask as the bell goes again.

“And move on again please, gentlemen.” The organiser smiles.

Your date does so, following Bucky with an angry frown.

With another table between you, you assume that’s your additional ‘date’ with Bucky over and turn to greet your next date.

Now, from three tables away, Bucky calls down the row to you.

“Hey, doll, there’s a new bookstore opened by Sam’s place. We should check it out?”

You nod to placate him while disgruntled voices around you mutter and curse his interruptions.

The bell rings again and everyone moves on once more.

From five tables away he asks about the recipe for the pasta dish you made for lunch with Yelena last week.

From seven tables away he shouts to ask whether you saw the last episode of Traitors.

“That is enough, sir. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave,” the organiser says with exasperation at the next bell.

“But we're getting along so well,” he protests as two waiters try to lead him to the door.

Giving up, he gives you a half shrug and a wave.

“See ya later, kid.”

He leaves without further disruption.

You turn back to your latest date but your enthusiasm has left the building with Bucky.

Despite the tedious hour that follows, no conversation manages to match the level of engagement you experienced in your initial encounter.

You had been under the distinct impression that he had no idea who you were. Of all of them, Yelena was the only one who made an effort. Alexei occasionally pulled you into conversation, usually when he needed an additional body on his side in an argument, but Bucky walked past your desk almost daily without a word or a glance.

You couldn't help but wonder why he chose tonight, of all evenings, to engage with you.

He could have ignored Sam's suggestion to attend. He could have ignored you completely.

You'd given him an out, offered to sit in silence.

His casual comment to your second date echoed in your mind: “Sorry man, just seeing where this goes.”

Those simple words had hinted at a deeper curiosity or interest, beyond just passing time at a speed dating event.

It had been both impressive and frustrating to see the usually stoic Bucky calling across tables, asking you questions about your job, how long you'd worked for Valentina, with an animated excitement that seemed to be reserved solely for you.

The organiser called time and you wrapped your coat tightly around you, the mid-February nights were cold and you were ready for bed.

You shot Yelena a brief text, letting her know you had arrived home safe and sound, choosing to leave her hanging when it came to details about the event.

After a fitful night, you arrived at the office the following morning, books safely nestled in your bag.

Yelena is parked at your desk, her feet casually propped up as if she'd taken permanent residency.

She raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“So, did you find the love of your life?”

“I'm never doing that again,” you warn with a pointed finger in her direction.

“Really?” A familiar voice behind you asks. “And here I thought you had a good time.”

You turn around to see Bucky standing there, his gaze fixed on you with a cheeky smile.

Yelena can barely contain her excitement, her grin widening even further.

Her feet hit the floor with a thud as she eagerly joins the conversation, eyes darting between the two of you. She turns first to Bucky.

“Wait, you were there?” Her question laced with disbelief.

Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to have attended a speed dating event.

“Yeah, and?” He asked, his indifference only increasing Yelena's excitement.

“You went speed dating?” She asks incredulously. He doesn't look at her as he answers, he looks only at you.

“I went speed dating.” He confirms.

“And all you got were book recommendations?” You add, reaching into your bag to hand him the two books.

“Well I was kinda hoping I got a little more than that,” Bucky smirks, his expression filled with a hint of mischief.

Yelena's eyes widened, her gaze darting back and forth between you and Bucky.

“Wait, what's this? What's with you two?”

“I mean, I did think you were scared of me-” he began.

“You don't scare me,” you cut in firmly.

His smile widened further.

“Good to know.”

Yelena watches the exchange with wide eyes.

“This is so weird,” she mumbles to herself.

“So, you think you'll do it again?" You ask him brazenly.

Bucky grins at your bold question.

“Maybe,” he muses before adding with a twinkle in his eye, “but only if you're there.”

FIN

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Dear Raven, do you have any opinion on the Tangled event in terms of it’s “story”? Cause I personally feel that it was rather underwhelming…

I have a lot of thoughts about Wish Lantern, so I'd be more than happy to expand on those here. First of all, I think a lot of us were underwhelmed by this event because we went in with a certain set of expectations. We thought this would be THE Riddle event and hyped ourselves up about how this would further his character development. And technically, the event did do that--even if said development was only relevant for parts 2-7 to 2-13, and the final part, 2-18. I think we just weren't fans of the execution. Rarely are story events contained mostly in a single room--but Wish Lantern was. Rarely are modern Twst story events a mere two episodes long--but Wish Lantern was. Rarely do story events call for characters to just stand around and reenact the exact same things the Disney characters did--but in Wish Lantern, they do. It was just a storm of blandness when I think we were wanting and expecting to explore a new place, and more in-depth exploration of Riddle's complicated relationship with his mother, especially considering we got Wish Lantern right off the tail end of his book 7 dream in the JP server. But we didn't get that, so many people ended up disappointed.

Now, how do I feel about it? Well...

I think I get what they were going for by cramming everyone into the library. The devs were probably trying to show us how claustrophobic and suffocating it is to be trapped inside and stripped of your freedom. They wanted us to feel the same way that Rapunzel did up in her tower, and they did it all without telling us to our faces "doesn't it suck, don't you feel awful about this?" But the problem with this setting is that it also makes for a dull story, especially when you combine it with the fact that Riddle and the others come to the stunningly stupid conclusion that they HAVE to live out the same life the Princess in the Tower did to get out.

We never got an explanation as to why this chain of events was even set off by the lantern to begin with. As a writer myself, this really bothers me :/

We got NRC library lore, but it was not that interesting because this could have been easily guessed, given the age and elite status of the school.

One bit of new lore I thought was very interesting was Jack saying that only a handful of mages are authorized to move humans using magic + there are restrictions on this kind of magic. This fleshes out the magic system of Twst and the laws around its use.

I found it silly that Riddle was the one to suggest that they pretend to be princesses and that this is what would help solve their problem. That's so nonsensical and such a huge leap of logic, I expected it of KALIM, not Riddle. (Maybe you could argue that Riddle has a desire to let his inner child out, but I do not see current day Riddle so overtly expressing that; he has shown time and time again he is uncomfortable going outside the bounds his mother laid for him, and that includes acting in traditionally immature ways.) And not only that, but why did they all insist and automatically invest so much in being princesses, and continue to dig into details about the Princess in the Tower's life, truly believing that reenacting it would get them out of this bind??? I know it's for plot convenience, but it was so contrived. They literally had no proof this would work yet kept acting in ways that implied they genuinely believed it would work. Why wouldn't they just believe "okay, this isn't working" after changing into their new clothes, makeup, and hairdos and try something else? No, instead they just fully dedicated themselves to this reenactment strategy after questioning their assumption maybe once or twice.

The Princess in the Tower is even a FAIRY TALE in the world of Twisted Wonderland. It's not actually a part of their history. The characters point out (at multiple points in the event) how silly the fairy tale is or how little sense it makes. So... that gives them even less reason to believe in reenacting it as their solution.

Shoutout to the part where Jack talks about how tight his shirt is in the chest area (boobs too big, lol) and how he had to alter it to be more comfortable for him...

There were strange parts where the event was like a... poorly written locked room mystery? In a good mystery, the reader is handed all the clues to come to their own conclusions. In a bad mystery, important details are not given to the reader, so there is no feasible way for them to come to their own conclusions until the story tells them that missing crucial information. This happens a few times, with Ace handing Riddle "something he'll need" (which turns out to be a frying pan), Riddle "taking a long time" to jump out of the window (because he was contacting Silver to tell him to bring Vorpal), and Vargas giving them climbing rope (to aid in their escape). We only anticipate these things to occur if you're familiar with Tangled already. If you haven't seen it, you would have NO IDEA what is going to happen with these scenes.

I liked that every NRC character, including staff, got their five minutes in the spotlight. We don't often get events like this, so I appreciate them when they do happen.

Mom!Jamil was so very prominent this event 💀

Jade killed me when he showed up wearing THAT STUPID VARGAS CAMP MONSTER MASK THING.

... Remember what I said earlier about how it's confusing how Riddle, Jack, Deuce, and Kalim are throwing literally their ALL into these hobbies??? Well. Leona comes in and tells them it's inefficient to do that. Why are they trying to play an entire game of chess when moving a single piece is enough to constitute fulfilling the (supposed) requirements? If they were so worried about the time crunch, they should have been more economical with their time and spent the minimum amount on every activity, not spend hours trying to do each one. AGAIN, I HAVE TO GIVE IT TO KINGSCHOLAR... HE IS CORRECT. Of all the characters, I can only really see Riddle being anal about doing everything perfectly, but the other three could easily coast by on the bare minimum.

This is a bit of my book 7 salt spilling over into this event, but I kept having this nagging thought that Riddle and co. (+ Crowley) seem VERY concerned with escaping the library before it rolls over to the next day. Like... I understand why they're worried--but they oddly do not demonstrate this same level of urgency for most of the dream hopping in book 7 even though the stakes are much higher there. It doesn't make sense to me...

The devs got creative with the framing of this event; there was the diagonal slice and then showing two characters in two different locations speaking, as well as the Jamils low fade in + vanish.

The new music tracks were nice; one emulated the Kingdom Dance, and the other was a combination of the instrumentation of When Will My Life Begin and At Last I See The Light, which I appreciated.

The rhythmics/twistunes were cute. Nothing else to add.

I did like the character development we actually got for Riddle—I just wish it came attached to a better event and was executed better. His development is sort of poorly spaced out (especially when compared to Deuce in White Rabbit Fest), the event itself is short, and Riddle doesn’t even bring up his mom until 2-13… when the last part is 2-18.

I still felt that the parallels between Rapunzel and Riddle were sufficiently conveyed; it just requires reading between the lines.

I loved that they made a point to mention that the Princess didn’t know she was kidnapped by a witch because the witch provided all that she could ever want in her tower. Delicious food and lots of things to do… why would she ever go against someone that provided these amenities for her? It is similar to the mindset many abused children have—simply because an abusive guardian provides for them, children are compelled to give them grace and feel guilty about disobeying. These kids don’t realize they are “kidnapped” (under the abusive guardian’s thumb). The same goes for Riddle.

When I think about it… the window is an important symbol for Riddle. The manga more explicitly shows us that Trey and Chenya knocked on Riddle’s window to get his attention. It’s also through the window that Riddle escapes to go play with them. Now, again, a window is his escape, and, learning from past experience, he hesitates to take that route even though it is so easily accessible. I've decided... Never again. Almost made me gasp out loud, honestly. This was the part I expected from the start, and Twst actually delivered.

Another point I feel is very important is how Riddle consistently brings up the rules as a means of depriving himself of basic things like food (because you cannot eat in the library). The others have the be the ones to convince him to take better care of himself. He even has trouble jumping from the window too—and this is the same as Rapunzel. It’s not that they cannot leave the tower. They can leave anytime they like—but they trap themselves in it, psychologically speaking, due to how they’ve been isolated and controlled. That takes real strength and willpower to overcome.

It’s great that Jack, Deuce, and Kalim support Riddle through this tough decision-making, even if they’re blunt about it. (Sometimes bluntness is what he needs to really snap into action!!) “I don’t want to see you turning into a loser that uses the rules as an excuse to not act.”, “Are you planning on staying there forever?” etc.

The ending nicely wraps up Riddle’s little arc. He connects the dots that both he and Rapunzel broke the promises made to their mothers—but it was worth it to see this amazing sight, wasn’t it?

I happen to have my own Wish Lantern rewrite if you're interested in an alternate version of the event. As it currently is, it's okay to pretty good in the Riddle development scenes alone and has some cute interactions, but everything else surrounding that is pretty bleh.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Dune: Prophecy episode 1 thoughts, tried to keep it vague to avoid major spoilers:

Wow there is a lot of exposition. Like a LOT of exposition, especially in the first 10-15 minutes when we're not invested in any of the characters yet. I hope this is a first episode problem.

Ah they went the coward's route and used "Great Machine War" instead of "Butlerian Jihad."

There's an interesting "history is written by the victors" thread there right from the beginning that I hope they pull on some more.

I love how they did the Voice, which appears early in the episode, because both the actor's performance and the sound design of it are slightly different from the films. It really feels/sounds like the character using it is straining to access a new and unfamiliar power, in contrast to the effortless, overwhelming assertion of control it comes across as in the films.

Salusa Secundus looks so green and lush in comparison to how it looks at the time of the films.

I realize this is probably an unfair complaint for something made on a TV budget (even an HBO TV budget), but imo the production design doesn't quite measure up to the films. I think the best work is on the props. The key to the genetic index room, the little slides that Valya and Tula are looking at with students' info on them, the Emperor's projection table--those all look great and have that feeling of "future filtered through the past" that I think is key to the Dune aesthetic. Many of the location exteriors are gorgeous, too. Some of the interior sets are quite striking and others are underwhelming. The costumes are...mid imo; there are some beautiful elements and others that look too identifiably modern. Including Princess Ynez's red gown unfortunately which looks like a department store prom dress. I realize it's a high bar--the films were really really good at making everything look both futuristic and ancient, layered and textured--but you do notice the difference.

So! Many! Women! Pretty racially diverse casting too. But also omg so many characters and I already forget half their names. I'm gonna need Dune: Facebook for the next episode.

Emily Watson and Olivia Williams are already very compelling, even if you don't quite know their characters' full agendas yet. Heckin ready for some Machiavellian women scheming.

Love some of the more fucked up shit that just slides by and the information it gives you about the world. Adult (? idk maybe she's supposed to be in her late teens) woman getting engaged to a 9-year-old. Practicing Truthsaying on prisoners, some of whom have fresh bruises on their faces.

Arrakis is...the same. This one is honestly fucking me up. I know time scales in Dune are absurd and really kind of incomprehensible in comparison to real Earth history but can you imagine your home being passed around various imperialist powers for resource extraction for ten thousand years?? FOUR HUNDRED GENERATIONS. 80 years of Harkonnen rule seems like nothing. We're talking about whole eras of colonial control and resistance here. Like damn. No wonder so many Fremen have come to believe that only a messiah can save them. Imagine being someone like Chani and feeling the legacy of not decades or even centuries but millennia of struggle on your shoulders. It is gonna take me a while to fully absorb this one. Holy fuck.

Travis Fimmel's character has an...ability that we haven't seen in the Dune universe before and I'm super curious to see where they're gonna go with that.

Overall it feels like this episode was mostly setup but there's a lot of potential? Like there are a lot of potential threads that could develop into something cool and twisty and interesting. I'm not sure where any of it is going yet but I'm ready to find out.

[lazylittledragon]

Heya, feel free not to answer if this is uncomfortable, invasive or you just don't want to :)

I'm a trans guy and I'm, after top surgery, hoping to get laurel wreaths tattooed over the scars with florograpgy accents.

Do you have any advice for someone who's never had a tattoo before? Anyways to deal with pain, common courtesies for the tattoo artist, how the actual session goes, etc.?

Love ya,

Quimble

THAT'S A GREAT IDEA also absolutely!!!

don't stress about it or worry about being 'too much', for someone's first one i will talk through every single thing i'm doing and there are no stupid questions or too many concerns. also don't worry about twitching/flinching, it's not your fault and we know how to work around it

your artist should never make you feel bad about ANYTHING!! you can move the stencil as many times as you want and we don't care about your body or what you look like. if you need to take a break it's fine, if you need numbing spray it's fine. i would honestly rather slightly inconvenience myself than make you uncomfortable. as long as you aren't intentionally wiggling around the entire time or being a dick to the artist, you're all good.

yes it is going to hurt but it probably won't be as bad as you think it will be. when i got my first one i really hyped myself up and was very underwhelmed by the pain aksddfjfdj

bring something with you like a book or headphones if you need a distraction (as long as the tattoo placement allows it). i'm quite chatty most of the time but if you want a quiet session/no smalltalk you can ask for that

the actual session will go something like: show up, look at the design, make any changes if you want, test it out for sizing, put the stencil on and make sure you like it, then start the tattoo. afterwards they'll go through all the aftercare with you and either put on second skin (a film that sticks to your skin and protects the tattoo) or wrap it in clingfilm

if they haven't specified when you book the appointment then ask if it's cash/card/paypal etc and if it's cash, try and get it out BEFORE the tattoo appointment (just a time saving thing). also tipping is never expected but always Extremely appreciated :))

please please PLEASE tell us if you don't like the design/want to change the placement etc. personally i would be mortified if i knew someone didn't like what i'd done and didn't feel comfortable telling me. it's there forever so i want you to like it!!

[al-the-remix]

BuckTommy Positivity Week Day 2: nicknames and terms of endearment

thank you to the @bucktommypositivityweek mods for putting this together so quickly! please overlook any spelling/grammar errors...it normally takes me 5-7 business days to catch them all (if even) and I really wanted to write something for this event. Rated: E • 2K • Fluff, Romance, Humour, And some smut at the end.

Of all the things Buck thinks may prove to be a speed bump in his first relationship with a dude, (phrasing he’s still getting ragged for), like who gets to be the big spoon, if he was going to have to start buying his own shampoo (the bottle Natalie left in his shower had entered a critical state of near empty), the whole dick situation, none of them actually turn out to be much of an issue. 

As it happens Tommy is pretty indifferent when it comes to their sleeping arrangements (together, preferably); he offers to drop by the CVS and pick up more shampoo for Buck when he realizes he’s out (are you sure Herbal Essence is really what you want?); and let's just say Buck finds he takes to cock like a duck to water. 

In the end, he’s so busy worrying about whether Tommy would want to be the little spoon on occasion, or if his boyfriend now thinks he doesn’t know how to wash his hair, he completely overlooks one of the most obvious hurdles of them all: pet names. 

And the worst part is that it’s totally a one sided issue. “Sweetheart” slips out of Tommy’s mouth so easy and so smooth, his tone warm like butter sliding around a hot pan, just a little gravelly, especially first thing in the morning and late at night. The word rolls down Buck’s spine like condensation, gaining speed, to pool warm and liquid in the cradle of his hips. Tommy makes it sound so natural: a little cocky, a little, flirty, a little tongue and cheek, like the word was created to be formed by his lips and not the other way around.

Buck tries it out in the mirror one time, it’s clunky and awkward and he embarasses himself too much to keep going. He’d been surprised, maybe even a little underwhelmed (in a good way), by how few differences there really were when it came to dating men vs. women. Sure, he didn’t think any of his previous girlfriends would have been charmed if he tried one of his new grappling moves on them pre-fuck (but he bet he could proabally find a woman who did if he tried hard enough), and the stubble burn on his ass was new but not all that different from eating a girl out one week post bikini wax–the important part was the kisses felt the same, Tommy’s skin didn’t taste any different against Buck’s tongue, and his heartbeat still fluttered high in his throat when Tommy looked at him and smiled or reached out to interlace their fingers. 

The point was, the things that do stand out to him about Tommy: his strength, the way he carries himself, how he’s in equal measures serious and goofy and sarcastic in a way that has Buck bubbling fondness and unable to hold back his grin, makes it difficult for Buck to come up with an enderment he feels encompassess all of that. He’s probably overthinking it (he definitely is), but it wasn’t the first time Tommy had left him reeling and feeling slightly unmoored, and it likely wouldn’t be the last, so he better pull himself up by his bootstraps and get to work.

Buck decides the best way to feel Tommy out was to work it into casual conversation. An experiment of sorts. He’s already got a list of potential options on his phone; he leaves sweetheart off it because it just doesn’t sound right coming out of anyone’s mouth but Tommy’s. 

Tommy’s working in the garage when Buck decides to give his first option a go. The heat spiked around noon, and Tommy’s got a box fan blasting in the corner of the room. He’s still got a massive gray splotch on the center of his back where his shirt is stuck to his skin and Buck’s a little surprised (and disappointed) that hasn’t ditched it yet. 

“Hey honey, it’s smokin’ in here, do you want some water?”

Tommy jerks, bumping his head on the hood of the Charger. Buck winces. The look Tommy shoots over his shoulder is an incredulous one, rubbing at the back of his head. “I’m sorry, what did you just call me?”

Buck crosses his arms over his chest. He’s not backing down now. “Honey.”

Tommy raises a brow. “What, are you going to make me a sandwich too? Get me a beer?”

Buck throws his hands in the air because he can, he knows Tommy finds his dramatics charming, the poor sucker. He turns on his heel, a smile eating away at the corner of his mouth. “I was just trying to be nice, but if you’re fine–”

Tommy lunges out and hooks his fingers in the waistband of Buck’s shorts, reeling him back. “Whoa, wait a second. I didn’t go that far…”

Buck is very happy to let himself be dragged into the circle of Tommy’s arms, broad hands slipping into his back pockets. Tommy smells a little funky, like sweat and grease and the spearmint gum he likes to chew when he’s working with his hands, an old habit from quitting nicotine post-military. 

He slips his fingers under the damp cotton at Tommy’s waist, rolling the hem of his shirt up inch by inch. “Well, what do you want then?”

Tommy gives him a quick peck on the lips. “I can think of a few things, but water does sound pretty good right now.”

Buck leans in for another kiss, letting this one linger. “Mmm, alright.”

“What,” Tommy drawls, “No, ‘alright, honey’?”

Buck slaps him hard on the ass, Tommy letting out a full body “oof” a Buck steps out of the circle of his arms. 

“Maybe later if you ask nicely.” Buck wags a finger at him as he walks slowly backwards towards the door to the house. Pretty proud of himself when he doesn’t trip over the first step.

Well, he can scratch that one off the list. 

The next up is babe, which Buck regrets almost immediately. 

“Babe, do you know where my running shoes ended up?” he calls down from the loft, and gets in return: “Where you left them babe, right on top of mine!”

Tommy spends the rest of the day parroting him, “pass the remote, babe–do you need me to pick anything up on my way home, babe--don’t drop the soap, babe–” and Buck thinks it’s best to lay that one to rest before he goes insane. 

It becomes clear that the rest aren’t going to make the cut either and Buck decides to take the opportunity to have some fun with it instead. “Honeybun” makes Tommy snort coffee out his nose; “Gumdrop”, specifically employed in front of Eddie, makes Tommy glow, pleased and a little flustered at being razzed about it by his new friend; “Lover” makes the corners of Tommy’s mouth writhe and his eyes roll and his nose scrunch up like he’s sort of embarrassed by how much he likes that one, (Buck slips that information into his back pocket for later).

They all live within the sliding scale of reactions Buck expects from him: fondness and humor and affection. It’s not until he reaches the end, the one Buck had almost not bothered putting on the list it was so commonplace, that he elicits a reaction that makes him pause. 

Tommy’s in the kitchen, kneading pasta dough into a soft ball, they’re making handmade ravioli to take to a housewarming potluck at Bobby and Athena’s new place, when Buck asks: “Baby, what time are we supposed to be leaving again?” and watches the back of Tommy’s neck flush a vibrant red. Interesting. 

Buck doesn’t draw attention to it. He doesn’t push or tease. He just drops it into their conversations, here and there, not frequently enough to really give Tommy a reason to call him out on it, though Buck finds it telling that he never does. It’s obviously having some effect on him, albeit a silent one: high color rising in Tommy’s cheeks, his eyes casting quickly down and away. 

Buck waits for the right moment to really set the hook and see what he can draw out; it’s just chance that that perfect moment happens to be when they’re naked in bed. 

Tommy’s legs are hooked around his waist and his fingertips are digging white crescents into Buck’s biceps where he’s gripping him like he’s holding on for dear life. His eyes keep circling down to where Buck is spreading him open then back up to catch Buck’s gaze like a closed circuit.

The cling of Tommy’s body is slick and sweet, and he looks up at Buck like Buck's giving him everything he wants and he can’t quite believe how good it is. His eyelids droop like he’s struggling to keep them open and Buck swoops down to capture Tommy’s mouth in a kiss. Tommy moans into it and Buck can feel where his cock is kicking insistently against his stomach, wet and hot to the touch. Buck curls a fist around it, stroking him from base to tip and watches the way his eyelashes flutter and his mouth drops open in silent pleasure. 

Tommy’s other hand slips from Buck’s biceps to his back when Buck dislodges it so he can brace himself on one arm, get a little closer, suck wet kisses into the razor edge of Tommy’s jawline. He slows their rhythm down a little, grinding in with deep swivels of his hips. Tommy’s knees pinch tight at Buck’s sides and he manages to pry his eyes open just enough to sweep his gaze down to where Buck’s stroking him and his rim is stretched nice and slick and pink around Buck’s cock, and back up again. His pupils are blown wide and his hands twitch on Buck’s lower back, slipping down to the meat of his ass, pawing at him, pulling him in–

“You're going to come aren’t you? I can feel it,” he says right in Tommy’s ear. 

“Evan–” Tommy cuts himself off on a moan, his nails dig a little deeper into Buck’s skin, and Buck barely feels it; all of his attention narrowed down to jacking Tommy off and fucking into him at the angle that makes get all tight and twitchy, his muscle tensing up, panting all hot and heavy against Buck’s temple. 

“Common, I want you to,” Buck says, flicking his wrist tight and fast at the head in the way he knows will finish Tommy off quick. “Tommy–Baby–Let me feel it.”

Tommy’s brow crumples and Buck gets to feel the pulse of his heartbeat in his hand and around his cock as Tommy comes undone, slicking his chest with thick, white streaks. 

Buck presses his face into the damp crescent of Tommy’s neck and rabbits his final few strokes into the hot clutch of Tommy’s ass. He can taste the salt on Tommy’s skin as he groans against it, rolling his hips indulgently as his cock softens. 

Tommy strokes his back as he pulls away, arm falling to the side as Buck gets up to ditch the condom. He’s staring up at the pebbly stucco of the bedroom ceiling when Buck returns to bed. “No one’s ever called me that,” he says quietly, contemplatively. 

Buck shuffles closer till he’s pressed up along his side, draping an arm over Tommy’s midsection to anchor himself. Buck finds that hard to believe. He can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t want Tommy to be their baby, but he’s glad he’s Buck’s.

“Well, it’s only fair that I’m your first for something too.”

Tommy rolls his head to the side, a dopey smile on his face. He looks fucked stupid and Buck feels unbearably fond about it. 

“Sweet talker,” Tommy accuses softly, hooking two fingers under Buck’s chin and pulling him into a kiss. 

Yeah, Buck thinks, I like the sound of that.

[tryingtofindava]

May I ask for Ticci Toby with a proxy S/O? Who's personality is completely different from him like quieter, calmer, heartless yet in private is like soft on him and gives his probably touch starved self the affection that he never got

── 𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐰 𝐚 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦

: ̗̀➛Back to Source

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TOBYY HE’S 30 NOW!! :D

He’s actually quite observant, and noticed immediately that the two of you don’t have much in common personality wise.

Opposite attract ig. It honestly gives black cat x golden retriever dynamic vibes.

He rambles your ears off when you lock into quiet mode, and when you let him yap away the conversations be changing up so quickly.

On the rare occasion you guys get partnered together for a mission, he’s twitching in excitement while you stand right next to him being the quiet level headed person you are (both being covered in gallons of blood).

HAULS your ass to go and do something either stupid or chaotic, and even though he’d be doing the most wildest shit ever you’d be next to him so underwhelmed by everything.

His red flag is that he’s sees murder sprees as dates. He’s also trying into impress you with cool ways to off someone with his trusty hatchets, trying to get at least some form of reaction outta you.

Speaking of murder, he LOVES watching you end people’s subscriptions to life without a second thought. No guilt or hesitance hanging over your head. (he thinks it’s hot af.)

“Duh-damn, wish y-you’d choke muh-me like that.”

He loves when nobody else’s around you become much super lovey dovey. He also likes that you only show this side of yourself to him and no one else. (HE’S POSSESSIVE AND GETS JELLY EASILY!!)

God knows this deprived bitch needs affection like that.

It’s canon that he doesn’t remember his past, (but he does get bits of déjà vu or small flashback memories) So he probably doesn’t even know he’s touch starved until you come into his life.

He thrives off the attention you give him, even if it’s only behind closed doors.

[dreamweave01]

What was CJ's first word?

(I feel like it was something he wasn't supposed to hear. Like a cuss word or something.)

So I have to apologize XD

I kept putting off this ask because I wanted to make a little mini comic for it. The idea of CJ's first word is just too adorable to me!

But I couldn't figure out what the word would be :(

While yes, having it be something he definitely shouldn't say is absolutely hilarious, I personally like the idea of his first word being something sweet. Maybe said at an unexpected moment, catching everyone off guard.

I came to the conclusion that his first word should be someone's name.

Which was where my troubles started.

The obvious choice would be Cassandra or Noa. An infant's first word is often along the lines of "Mama" or "Dada," and let's be honest, these two are awesome parents. They totally deserve getting to be CJ's first word.

If Cassandra, she's the kind of mom who would parade him around on top of her shoulders with undeniable pride. If Noa, there's no way the poor man's holding back those tears. Open the floodgates!

But then I thought, "What if CJ's first word was someone else's name?"

It got me thinking how an innocent moment like that would affect the others.

April would go full auntie mode, doing everything in her power to get him to say it again so she can record it and send it on the group chat as undeniable evidence that she's "the favorite." And CJ obviously wouldn't say it again until after she gives up XD

I could see Mikey being absolutely elated. He would one hundred percent be the one to have made it a competition, and he would be quite the smug victor (all in good fun of course.)

It would be something Donnie wouldn't have expected, and I think he would be deeply touched. CJ's always had a soft spot in Dee's heart, (he denies it.) It might be one of the many things that gets the guy to loosen up and let his guard down a bit.

For Raph, it would really help further illustrate just how much has changed. After everything he's done (everything he was forced to do that is,) there's still this innocent little bundle of joy that loves and trusts him. He's not the weapon the Kraang made him out to be.

And finally Leo. There would be a lot of mixed emotions. Surprise, joy, sadness, guilt. . . He would need to step away and take a moment to process it all. Does he really deserve a second chance with this kid? Someone who had relied on him, who Leonardo couldn't protect when it really mattered. He honestly doesn't know if he deserves that chance, or if he ever will.

Do I want to draw this someday? Yes! Absolutely!

But I'm going to have to do a LOT of thinking and decision making until then.

Am I overthinking this? Oh, one hundred percent. It'll probably end up being a bit underwhelming when I do get around to this, considering all the time I'm putting into planning this moment.

There's just so much potential. I could make it sweet. I could make it angsty. Most likely it'll be sweet- BUT MY POINT IS!!!

. . .I forgot what my point is, I'm basically just rambling at this point because this has been ridiculously hard for me to decide for some reason.

Have a good day :')