#this one sat in my drafts for a while it's just a very difficult question to answer

[pocket-deer-boy]

I've been wanting to learn to animate for a while, but I have no idea how to get started; do you have any advice?

This is really tough cause i’m going to be fucking honest. It is hard to get into animation without either paying for expensive tools that will save you a ton of time, space, and effort, or without sacrificing a lot of desk space to some cheapskate camera setup. And that's not even getting into how many different types of animation you could get into. I'm assuming here you mean hand-drawn 2D animation simply because that's the stuff I do. I also don't really know exactly what you're asking. Do you want to know what kind of tools to use, or do you want to know about techniques? I'm going to assume the former because there's tons of online tutorials for the ladder.

If you're trying to save money i would still recommend physical media first. There's a lot of tools you can use.

If you strictly want to get into 2D animation, get yourself a peg bar. There's other ways to keep all your paper sheets in place frame by frame, but this is an effective one for moving a lot of paper around. Don't worry too much about drawing tools, any old pencil, eraser and printer paper will do. Be gentile with the eraser and be okay with messing up your sketches.

For recording your animation, I'm assuming you have either a phone or better yet have access to some kind of digital camera. God help you with building a camera setup here, this may require trial and error. This could be your next big expense, you can use tripods and point them at a desk or god forbid the floor for example.

Once you've got everything you need for your process: make a 12 frame loop animation on 2's. Put all your sheets on the peg bar, number your sheets from 1 to 12, and plan out your animation. Don't be afraid to keep it rough, this is just a little test of skill and of your setup. Once you've got all 12 frames finished, line up all your sheets on the peg bar and take them to your recording booth. Use something to stabilize the peg bar, tape can work in a pinch, and record your animation frame by frame. Transfer the photos from either your phone or your digital camera, line all the frames up in whatever free video editing software you pirated got, and voila! You've made a hand-drawn paper animation! This means you're braver than me. Godspeed little baby animator, and take care of your hands.

If you have access to a camera and a tripod, you can also try your hands at all sorts of stop-motion animation.

If you specifically wanted to get into digital animation, you're going to have to prepare to spend ludicrous amounts of cash on digital equipment. Computers aren't cheap, tablets aren't the cheapest, and the software itself is pricey. Animation is not exactly cheap.

[angelicsoka]

BLIND DATE, j. drysdale

part two <3

word count | 758 words

pairings | jamie drysdale x single mother!hughes!reader

summary | you were never one for dating, especially when trevor is the one setting them up. but one date can’t hurt, right?

warnings | talk of pregnancy and terrible ex boyfriends. not proofread. one use of “y/n”. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | thank you for 200 followers! i can't believe people actually enjoy my writing but here we are lmao. i’ve had this idea sitting in my drafts for a while but i finally decided to sit down and write it. its pretty short but i’m not against writing a part two :) anyway, enjoy!!

dating was never really your thing, at least not since your last boyfriend left you pregnant and alone in a city you were unfamiliar with. your ex had convinced you to move from michigan to california, something your family tried to warn you against, but you were stubborn. finding out you were pregnant was an accident, a routine checkup. what was supposed to be a wonderful thing turned terrible quick. your ex was angry, he wanted nothing to do with a kid. he gave you an ultimatum: get an abortion or we are over. but, as stated before, you were stubborn and had already to start to fall in love with the idea of being a mom. so, he left and you chose to stay in anaheim, a difficult decision but your ego was already hurt and proving your parents right was not what you wanted to do.

so, here you were, the mother of a two year old little girl who was your whole world. she was your moon and stars, the light of your life. it was you and her against the world, and you were content with that. that was until trevor zegras decided to intervene. “one date.” he begged, “he's a good guy, you’ll like him!” you had simply rolled your eyes, but after he offered to babysit for you whenever you wanted, you faltered, agreeing to the date. 

now, you were sat in a fancy restaurant awaiting the arrival of trevor’s friend. she felt out of place, her dress not nearly as elegant as the women that surrounded her. she checked her phone once more, ready to leave when a man in a suit rushed over, a hurried look on his face. “sorry, i’m sorry! trevor wouldn't stop yapping.” you stood up, smoothing out your dress before offering him your hand to shake. 

“it's all good, you must be jamie?” he nodded, shaking your hand. his smile made your heart flutter slightly, bringing a smile to grace your own lips. “y/n, it's a pleasure.” the anxious pit in your stomach began to settle as you sat, feeling comfortable in the presence of jamie. 

“trevor didn’t tell me much about you.” jamie smiled sheepishly.

“guess we’re in the same boat then.” you smiled, taking a sip from your water. “tell me, jamie, how is it that a handsome guy like you is resorting to blind dates to find a girl?” you questioned, a teasing look in your eye. jamie blushed, ducking his head slightly.

“well, hockey takes up most of my time and trevor takes up the rest of it.” you laughed at that, “it's like wrangling around a small child.”

“oh, i know that feeling all to well. my daughter is great at matching his energy.” jamie did well in hiding his shock, masking it with confusion, but you had learned to pick up on the small cues. “he didn’t tell you?” 

“no, uh, he wasn’t very forthcoming with information.” you nodded, unlocking your phone and pulling up a picture of your daughter. 

“this is my daughter, isla. she has enough energy to outdo trevor, but she’s my world and i wouldn’t change a thing about her.” jamie smiled at the photo of isla who was wearing an elsa dress, her mouth covered in chocolate. 

“she is very cute.” jamie looked to you, “just like her mom.” you blushed, laughing slightly. “how old is she?”

“just turned two, here’s her with my brothers at her frozen themed party.” you swiped to the photo of isla opening her presents with the help of your brothers. 

“is that jack wearing a… tiara?” jamie questioned, pointing to jack who had a crown, which was too small, on his head. 

you giggled, swiping to another photo, “yeah well, quinn and luke were wearing tutus but they attacked me when i tried to take a picture, but isla has them wrapped around her finger.” you showed jamie the photo of your daughter in her elsa dress, quinn and luke wearing matching tutus. “they don’t know i have this photo.” jamie laughed, a sound you were already growing to love. you closed your phone, setting it beside you. 

“anyway, tell me about you.” and he did, and you listened intently, never once losing interest. what you thought would be a boring date, had turned into one of the best dates you had ever been on. you exchanged numbers before you went your separate ways, another date already in the works. 

who knew trevor would make a decent matchmaker?

[disneyprincemuke]

get this right * aa23

the thought of proposing to you is one that always comes easy to alex, but what he hadn’t expected is how difficult it is to execute it

pairings: alex albon x fem!reader

warnings: literally nOthing just a buNCH OF CUTE SHIT

notes: YALL i’ve been simping for this man for like weeks but in my head, he’s just such a sweetheart that i can’t imagine him in bad situations and nOW I FINALLY GOT IT

also… i’m really liking these multiple scenario fics… if you guys have any suggestions with stuff you want to see, please feel free to send them in here and this has been in my drafts since october oh my gooooood

(f1 masterlist)

“you’re telling me you already bought the ring?” max raises an eyebrow at alex, completely baffled at the story his friend has chosen to bestow upon them.

to the question, alex nods. his head snaps to george, who then asks, “and you’ve had it for almost a month?”

again, the thai nods. “and you have yet to propose?” lando says his piece, just as shocked as the rest of the table is.

alex can only nod, dropping his head in disappointment. in the middle of their circular table sat a red velvet box. inside it is the ring that alex had very carefully picked out with his sisters and mother.

yet the diamond ring sits comfortably in the box instead of your finger. and so does he amongst his friends while he faces the million dollar questions as to why he’s had the ring and has yet to propose to you.

“are you having second thoughts?” charles speaks up, tilting his head and biting his lips in curiosity.

if the answer were to be a ‘yes’, that would be worrisome. considering alex is one of the more romantic people they all know.

“no,” alex finally speak, putting a firm hand down on the table. he meets all of their eyes and feels the judgement. he sighs. “i’m not having second thoughts. i want to marry (y/n) just as much as i said before.”

george lifts his hands up and throws alex a questioning shrug. “so what’s holding you back then?”

“well…” alex chews on the inside of his cheek. he glances down at the box and scrunches up his nose, recounting the numerous times he has tried to get on one knee for you.

“i’m afraid it’s really not that simple.”

-> 20 days ago

alex glances at the door of your shared apartment then his eyes jump to the clock hanging just above your decorative plant. you should be home any minute.

the living room has been decorated beautifully with the help of his sisters. there is a singular heart helium balloon tied down to the bouquet of roses that sits on the kitchen island.

he’s even dressed up in his best suit to greet you a warm welcome home.

he sinks further into his couch, shaking his leg in anticipation. he runs his thumb over the velvet material of the box.

alex hadn’t been planning on proposing to you so soon, if he were to be honest. but he woke up that morning to empty half of the bed, with a note in your handwriting reminding him how much you love him and that breakfast is on the table.

his heart felt so full and he just knew today is the day.

so he got up and called his sisters up. they decorated the house together. with their help, he at least has the slightest idea of what to say to you.

it would be embarrassing if he was stuttering every 5 seconds thinking of what to say to you next.

it was 15 minutes later that he started to get worried about you. you usually get home from work around the same time whenever he’s in town — give or take about 5 minutes.

as if you’d read his mind, his phone lights up with a text notification from you.

my car died. can you pick me up please?

without another question, he is already typing a response to let you know that he will be on the way. he adds on the fact that he will call a tow truck for you after you send him your location.

when he gets there, he sighs in relief that you’re safe. he’d already known you were stuck in the parking lot of a mcdonald’s, but how can he really know when he’s rarely home?

you’re sitting on the trunk of your car, eating some ice cream with your phone propped up a box of nuggets. you’re fully occupied by a video you’ve put on to accompany yourself during the wait.

“my love, why didn’t you sit in the car where the seat’s more comfortable?” alex asks as he opens the car door.

you turn your head and open your mouth with an answer, but immediately close it when he comes into view. your eyes scan him up and down, slowly gulping the remaining ice cream in your mouth.

you point at him with the spoon of your mcflurry. “why are you dressed all fancy? you were gonna go out, love?”

alex freezes. he hadn’t even thought of changing out of his outfit before coming to get you. now he has to scrape his brain for an excuse to throw you off, without sabotaging the relationship whole.

it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head. you’ll totally buy the excuse. “i was giving my clothes a test run,” he giggles sheepishly, but hesitantly from the daggers you were shooting at him. “wanted to see what fit and what didn’t.”

he can almost envision the gears turning in your head as you process his lie. he sighs again when you turn away to lock your phone.

he’s a very bad liar. for two people who have been together for as long as you’ve been, it’s very easy to spot all his telltales.

he tries his best not to lie to you. today is when he’s exerting every single ounce of his ability to do so.

“my car battery died. i saw a screw lose when i’d checked,” you explain, gently climbing off the back of your car. you waddle over to him, lips puckered up as he bends down to meet your lips. “i’m sorry to trouble you, love. i’m sure you were enjoying your fashion show.”

he chuckles, pulling you in for a quick hug. “anything for you, my love.” he walks over to where you are and opens the mcdonald’s paper bag. “oh, you bought us dinner?”

“you dinner,” you correct him. you lean slightly into him with a loud and frustrated huff with your arms hanging around him loosely. “i’ve had such a long day at work today. it could really be deemed as the worst day; i just want to go home and relax.”

alex scrambles in his mind, thinking of several ways he can deviate you from the house a little longer. he makes a mental note to text his sister to do a quick cleanup before you make your way home.

he simply refuses to propose to you when you’re in a bad mood. he doesn’t think your answer would change depending on how you currently feel, but it just doesn’t feel right.

alex hums, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you. “what do you say we go to our spot up in the hills and chill for a little bit?”

he watches you in anticipation. if you didn’t agree, he really wouldn’t know what to do at all. there are only so many excuses he can make. and there's only so much time before his sisters can get to the apartment and get cleaning.

“hm, okay." you lean into him and squeeze him in your hug. “anywhere with you is relaxing.”

-> 18 days ago

so alex shall try again in the planned department. he is once again in your shared apartment. there is a singular rose this time with dinner on the table. this time, decorated by himself.

he’s practised in the mirror. what he should say. everything he had planned out a few days ago is forgotten as the nerves are slightly different this time.

he doesn't get nervous often, but whenever it comes to you, it's inevitable that it bothers him. when it first happened, it was a confusing feeling that he spent days pondering what exactly it is.

when george smacked his head and told him, he looked down shyly at the ground and nodded.

he got the same feeling when he asked you to be his girlfriend and met your parents.

his chosen seat is a bar stool this time, and he plays some games on his phone to remain calm and collected. though still a little bit distracted.

his attention is split between the phone in his hands and the door. occasionally, the footsteps in the hallway make his heart stop as he looks up and waits for a lock to click. it's never the door he wants to open.

his game is briefly interrupted, his mother's picture flashing on the screen while his phone buzzes. it's not unusual that she's calling, but it is a bit of a shock since she knows he's planning to propose tonight.

he picks up the call, an explanation as to why he hasn't texted at the tip of his tongue.

“i’m sorry, sweetie,” his mother’s panicked voice comes through the phone. “can you please come over? it’s an emergency.”

that’s all he needed to hear before he was darting all over the apartment. he’s popped the balloon, as there was clearly no need for it tonight, the rose is hiding behind a bunch of folded shirts in his drawer and the velvet red box goes back into the deepest pit of his underwear drawer.

this time, he remembers to change out of his clothes. it’s slightly less put together than before, but it was still an effort.

“alex, love?” the sound of the door opening makes him perk up. your voice bounces through the apartment, followed by the pitter-patter of the cats’ nails against the hardwood floor. “are you home?”

he stumbles out of your bedroom, pulling up his sweatpants. “i need to go over to mum’s.”

you stop dead in your tracks, the door still held open and the key in your hands. clearly, you notice his panic in the way he’s barely even greeted you. you raise your eyebrows and step aside, leaving a gap for him to go through the door.

“i can drive you if you want,” you offer him, watching him jog towards the car keys.

he’s shaking, and it’s noticeable from the way he’s struggling to find his wallet. his wallet that is very clearly sitting above the shoerack in the entryway.

you grab it swiftly and say his name. it makes him stop briefly, turning to you as he held up the couch’s cushion, still in search of his wallet.

you lift up the leather item and then show him your car keys. you nudge your head towards the hallway. “come on, i’ll drive.”

-> 10 days ago

third time's the charm, right? right?

alex sits in his chair, hands fixing his collar, then his hair, picking at the menu, and then the lace table cover.

"hey, love," you say from behind him, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. "i'm sorry i'm late. there was traffic in the parking lot at the office."

"don't worry about it. i just arrived not too long ago." alex gets up to his feet, pulling you in for a tight hug. he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before running over to pull your seat back for you.

you thank him with the squeeze of his arm while you take your seat. you grab the menu and get comfortable in your seat. "have you looked at the menu yet?"

"not yet, i was waiting for you."

he feels like a stalker watching you from across the table. his hand is in his jacket's pocket, rubbing circles over the velvety material once more. when exactly is the right time to ask you?

"how was work?" alex starts, taking the menu into his hands, looking at you shyly as he awaits your response.

"it's alright. nothing out of the ordinary from me," you mutter with a shrug, flashing him a small grin before returning your attention to the menu. "the pasta looks good, don't you think?"

"i saw their salmon dish online - that looked good," alex answers. but he's been on the same page of the menu for a hot minute, his eyes have read the same item so many times that he has its description memorised.

all he can think of is how to transition to popping the question.

"it does look delicious... do you want to share a dessert after too?" you inquire, looking up at him with a huge smile. "i really want the lava cake."

"with vanilla ice cream?"

"of course!"

and you make small talk with him. which almost makes him forget the ring that's in the pocket of his jacket. you talk and he thinks and thinks and tries to find the perfect time to pop the question to you.

until your smile drops and your head angles to the side slightly. your lips part as your eyes move from his, over to the door in pure shock.

"love, what's wrong?" alex follows your moving gaze.

and he also freezes in his seat. it's his ex-girlfriend. the same exact person that you'd mentioned you thought you could never live up to.

all because his mother had slipped up and asked about her over casual conversation over dinner, and because you had noticed that his sisters still kept in constant contact with her.

he watches you, from the corner of his eyes, sink into your seat and drop your head. you press your lips together and give him a small smile. "maybe let's cancel dessert? i'm not very hungry."

-> now

"do you get why it's a little complicated now?" alex groans, throwing his head back. "it's not like i haven't tried."

charles presses his lips together, nodding slightly as he tries to assess the situation for himself. he hasn't proposed to anybody in his life, so what advice does he have to give his friend? "maybe you're overthinking it?"

"yeah," george nods. "maybe you just have to... ask her. just ask her."

"you're aware i'm proposing to her. i'm not just asking some random girl to be my prom date to the dance," alex lays out his situation slowly, scanning his friends' faces carefully.

they're not serious about just asking you without a whole get-up, are they? he never would have asked them if he'd known how minuscule this issue was to them. it's never as simple as just asking you to marry him.

it's an important question.

"actually, i think twiddle dee and twiddle dum have got a point," max smiles, pointing at their two other friends now rolling their eyes. "if it all keeps blowing up in your face when you plan your proposal, maybe you just need to do it when you... get the feeling. you know?"

"no."

"just do it when you're so overwhelmed at the thought of spending the rest of your life with her," george shrugs, taking a sip from his drink. "would help the nerves, and it makes it more genuine."

alex shakes his head. "i don't know. that doesn't make the moment very special, now, does it?"

"just try it, and then let me know."

-> 5 days later

"love!" your excited voice fills the house, prompting alex to lift his head from the armrest of the couch.

he'd been home all day, claiming a rest day from the gym and other press commitments before he had to do it all over again this weekend for another race.

"yes, love?" alex smiles, opening his arms, watching you walk out of the kitchen and excitedly walk over to him. "what's got you so preppy?"

"love, i was outside coming home from work, and i saw the cutest little snail right outside the apartment building," you giggle, dropping your bag by the foot of the couch. you drop yourself into his arms, adjusting yourself to fit the small space that the couch provides you. "i took a picture, look!"

"you took a picture of a snail?"

"yes!" you nod. "its shell looked so beautiful. and i even moved it to the side so that nobody could step on it unknowingly. just so sad when that happens to them."

and then he knows. it hits him, then and there, while you were rambling on about how beautiful this snail's shell is, that this is the moment. this is the moment that max was talking about.

he props his head up with his hand, nodding as you zoom into the picture you'd taken.

"we should get married," alex blurts, unable to hold himself back. the ring is not even with him - it's somewhere in the back of his closet. but it doesn't even seem like a necessary accessory for him at the moment.

"what?" you tilt your head, slowly dropping your hand into your lap. you sit up and look down at him. "alex, what did you say?"

"i have the ring and everything. hold on." alex scrambles to get off his seat, but you shake your head and put a hand over his chest. you pull him back into the couch, maintaining his position next to you with a puzzled stare.

"did you just say what i thought you just said?"

"yes. and i've been trying to propose to you all month," alex sighs, "something always goes wrong: your car broke down, my mum called, then we saw my ex in the restaurant. i tried setting it up, and of course, i ask you when i don't have the ring with me."

he's flailing his arms in the air as he explains his troubles to you, ultimately throwing his hands towards the direction of your bedroom before he slumps his shoulders and looks at you. "i wanted it to be a picture-perfect moment. i wanted it to be everything you dreamt about growing up. remember?"

"so i heard you right? you're asking me to marry you?" you can barely hide the smile growing on your face, eyes tearing up as you grab his hands. "i don't care about the ring. you're asking me to marry you?"

"do you still want to? i couldn't even propose to you right."

"of course, i want to marry you," you giggle, throwing your arms around him. you pepper his cheek with kisses, alex hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist as he leans back onto the couch. "i love you, alex. you just had to ask me the question. i don't care how, where or when you'd say it."

"obviously, i didn't know that until now," alex laughs. he buries his face into your hair, making a mental note to thank max next weekend for the helpful tip.

[crazyyluvr]

hi! could I maybe request a Jesper fahey x reader fanfic where the reader helps jesper with like not feeling good enough or vice versa whatever you want hurt/comfort style I guess THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!

This has been in my drafts for a while, so I apologize if the ending seems a bit abrupt. Thank you for the request, and hope you enjoy this oneshot!

Jesper comes back from a mission that's gone wrong, but you're always there to keep his spirits up.

jesper x gn!reader

1.2k words :: not proofread

It was undeniable that Jesper was one of the many characters in Ketterdam — specifically West Stave — that was very recognizable. Not only does his reputation as a deadly marksman precede him, but he also has such an interesting personality that always seems to stick to someone’s memory, no matter how brief their interaction with him may be.

You thought no differently, but your reason for thinking that way was different. You could never forget about Jesper Fahey, the man who managed to worm his way into your heart and make it his.

And you were not against that, not even in the slightest.

After all, Jesper was beautiful. From his hair, to his skin, to his lips and cheeks, to his one-of-a-kind charm and personality. Everything about him was beautiful.

Especially to you.

And you made sure to remind him of that every day, whenever you got the chance. It came in the form of gentle kisses, lingering touches, and adoring stares. It came in the form of beaming grins, fond sighs, and whispers of love.

You made him feel loved. You knew it, he definitely knew it.

So why was he feeling like he meant nothing?

Why did he let his feet drag on the cobblestone ground as he made his way to your apartment?

Despite the change in his knocking — it was much slower and heavier than normal — you knew that your lover was home.

You immediately rose from your small, worn-out couch and opened the door, your mouth falling open in shock as you took in Jesper’s appearance.

“Saints, what happened to you?” You rushed forward and wrapped his arm around your shoulders before he could tumble to the ground.

His long coat was battered, torn, and covered in blood. From what you could see on his shirt, he had injuries. A lot of them.

“Mission,” Jesper grunted. "Got messy."

"I can tell," you replied, guiding him to your couch. The blood would be difficult to wash off, but you were more worried about where the hell all the blood was coming from.

"Stay here, I'll get the med kit." You rushed to your bathroom.

Jesper heaved out a sigh, leaning his head back onto the backrest of the couch.

He was in a lot of pain from the fight and the explosion, but all he could think about where Kaz's words before Jesper left the Slat in favor of looking for you.

"All you had to do was guard the door. How the fuck did you mess that up? I have no room for mess ups and failures in my crew."

He had essentially called Jesper a mess up and a failure. Kaz Brekker, Jesper's boss and the one that he looked up to ever since he basically took over Haskell's job in the Dregs, called him useless.

And damn, did that hurt.

It affected him enough to not want to show his face in the Slat despite sporting some serious-looking injuries. He knew that you only knew basic first aid, and he felt bad for burdening you with this, but he just needed to be near you.

You returned and sat beside him, your body angled towards him as you cut his shirt open to expose the wound.

"Try not to move," you said, holding up your threaded needle and diving into his skin.

Jesper looked away, his face contorted in discomfort. He hated watching people get stitched up; it was slow work, unlike a bullet that had a quick and easy entrance and exit — most of the time.

You stayed quiet as you did your work, and Jesper appreciated it, the lack of questions and scolding. He knew you knew that he would talk if he wanted to, and if he didn't, that was fine too.

It was one of the many things about you that just made the sharpshooter fall in love with you even more.

It was these thoughts of you that distracted Jesper long enough to not even realize that you were finished with your work until he felt the bandages tighten around his torso.

"All done," you said, your voice soft with satisfaction. "Don't move around much, or the stitches will burst and all my hard work will be ruined."

Jesper let out a breathy chuckle. "Now, we wouldn't want that, would we?"

A quiet laugh escaped you. The light air suddenly made Jesper want to talk, to tell you about the thoughts that have been weighing him down since he skipped the post-mission briefing to look for you.

"I fucked up on a job," Jesper sighed, leaning back again on the couch. "I was s'posed to guard the door and make sure no one went in the building before Kaz was done with his work, but I saw this group in the other alley, huddled over a table with money in the middle and I just..."

"... Got distracted," you finished for him. Your tone wasn't disappointed or angry, just understanding. You knew better than anyone about Jesper's gambling addiction, and how it sometimes went to the point where he would get beaten up by random men on the street that claimed he cheated during their games.

You hated this bad habit of his and how it affected him, but you didn't want to impose anything on him. His whole life is about him chasing freedom, and you didn't want to take that from him.

"I don't understand why you like me, you know," Jesper said, chuckling, but the sound was hollow. "I'm a mess. A gambling addict. A criminal. I've done horrible things, but you're still here patching me up when things get a little bloodier than normal. You dese —"

"Don't you dare start telling me what I do and do not deserve," you said severely, making Jesper's eyes widen in surprise. "What I choose to do, who I choose to love, isn't based on what I deserve; it's what I want. And I want you, Jesper Fahey, with all your beauty, madness, and imperfections."

Jesper let out another chuckle, this time more genuine and a bit emotional. "You're very passionate about this, eh?"

You reached out and held his hand, thumb dragging across the back of it. He loved it when you do that. "Look, if you don't want what happened in your last mission to happen again," you said carefully, "you can start pulling away from the tables."

Jesper stared at you, quiet. You took his silence for anger, and you tried to rectify it as quickly as you could. "I know it won't be an easy journey, but I also know what could happen if you don't do anything about it," you reasoned gently. "And I'll be with you every step of the way," you added with a soft smile.

Jesper wrapped his fingers around your chin and pulled you towards him to connect your lips with his. It was a gentle, loving kiss, one that lingered and made Jesper's heart beat faster and his body feel warmer with the feeling of your love for him.

"I love you," Jesper said as he pulled away. "I love you so much. Thank you for sticking by me."

"Always," you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.

Jobs will go wrong, Kaz will get mad at his team members, but Jesper was ready for a change within himself, a change that had been waiting since the moment he entered Ketterdam for education but soon abandoned it for the tables.

He'd conquer that change head-on, as long as you were right by his side.

[epersonae]

I wrote this originally as a reblog of something else, but after letting it sit in drafts for a while realized it needed to be its own thing. (but do go read that post, it was what got me thinking in this specific direction) I have not edited it much, other than to remove some intro about the kind of shitty day(s) I was having in my non-online life that were part of why I wrote something and then sat on it.

I have been thinking about

Don't like, don't read

(I saw this with rainbow text, and I asked how the fuck to do that, and frankly I don't have that level of patience, so just imagine it rainbow I guess)

And..........

Sure? We're all just here to have a good time or whatever, and Just Like Stuff, and it's exhausting being a hater (but also [stares at people I know who I've seen say all that and who are also ABSOLUTELY haters in private])

But I want something more nuanced than that. I mean that as both:

a writer of things I know other people have taken issue with (including, I remembered today, something that I heard secondhand about, in addition to the vagueblogging I've mentioned in an earlier post about my older fic)

and a reader/art appreciator who has some issues with things I've tried to read and art I've seen.

I don't what it is or how it works or how to get from here to there. I don't even really know how to do this with people I'm close to! (with the exception of having been a thoroughly obnoxious beta constantly saying "make me believe this could even happen", or pointing out conflicts with canon or whatever) I tend to silently nope out and then change my opinion of the person without ever telling them, because yeah, I'm horrifically conflict averse.

Which is why this might sit in my drafts for a long time.

And then, outside of friendships, and Difficult Conversations or whatever

I don't like pile-ons. I don't like a couple of people trying to articulate what bugs them about a piece of writing, and maybe being awkward or clumsy about it, and immediately getting drowned out by "you're being mean to my friends". (and I say that as someone who has had friends' writing receive this sort of critique! Multiple friends!) Maybe the immediate answer is, yes, the back button, but it has to be possible to dissect what's bothering you about a piece of writing (or a trope, or a ship) without it being negativity or an attack.

Here, I'll go first, because these are two things in OFMD fic that bug me endlessly, that writers I like have written, and I think they exhibit a subversion of the source material that is counter to the actual themes of the show.

Note: since I wrote all of this, I have written a little bit about my sort of complicated feelings about a fic that imho is an original novel in a trenchcoat, a sort of fic lacroix despite being very good. these examples are in the same vein as that.

Inevitable fucking disclaimer: I don't think people are wrong or bad for doing these things, I'm not going to try to make anybody stop, I practice don't like don't read (and I have some exceptions that I've enjoyed despite it being something I don't like generally)

Enemies to lovers: the whole point of Ed and Stede is that they click perfectly and immediately. They like each other! From the very first minute it's friendship and mutual admiration and delight and attraction. Enemies to lovers is a cliche that belongs to a different story entirely. I wish people would think more before jumping to that trope. (I've had an AU in my head for months that I absolutely cannot write until I solve this problem from the AU's source material) It's an interesting question to me, actually, why it seems to be so easy to write characters who don't like each other and then somehow fall in love, when the source material shows them liking each other SO MUCH right away.

Younger than middle aged: again, the whole point is that they are changing their lives, that their midlife crises brings them to the point where they can find love. I think it's a djenks Themes and Motifs thing, to have a story about getting to this point in your life and really looking at it and going "am I where I need to be?" Also it's incredibly unique and special to me after the last few years of my own rolling midlife crisis. (petty thought that I have sometimes: it is a failure of imagination about or knowledge of actual middle-aged people) Tbh, this goes double for age difference, I will nope out of that even faster than both of them being young.

And I think there's something about being able to not like something and still not be a dick about it, to know enough about what you do like to look at something and say "this doesn't work for me and here's why", to engage thoughtfully and critically (and yeah occasionally in public) while still having respect for the other person.

I am thinking also of @emi--rose and @frommybookbook and music, and their efforts to find kpop and Taylor Swift, respectively, that I might enjoy, because I don't like most of either, and I think this thing we've been doing is helping all three of us understand more about what we all do and don't like.

[pausing to think]

It occurs to me, also, that I spent a lot of time griping while editing for the benefit of all the broken hearts, about having to go back and do a lot of set up/rewriting to make some of what happens in that read plausibly. And I was soooooo bitchy about it and also that critique was all correct and it made the story stronger even aside from making it more "canonical", whatever the fuck that means in that particular setting.

And that was in the particular creative intimacy setting of working with a beta, which is different, admittedly, from random critique on the open internet.

But then I spent a while, back in the day, immersed in the TAZ questions of "is Lucretia a lesbian?" and "can Magnus ever love again?" and I wrote my rarepair (and associated polycule shipping) very much from my id, and a certain amount of "you can't tell me that didn't happen" that was based on overidentification and personal experience, but there were definitely people who were pretty publicly "ew" about it, and I had to think through my position, and both decide what felt true about and also decide to write from my weird heart, but not blindly.

Idk, I've written all of this and I'm just landing on

I think introspection is nice.

I think it's good to do, I think it's worth thinking about what you like and don't like, and maybe where that comes from, and not in a puriteen way but with sincerity and curiosity. I would like to support and encourage that spirit of artistic introspection.

[definitely-not-mothman]

{•You’re Not Coming Home•} Juncruiter Pt. 4

-• TW: Blood, violence, Salesman needs a warning of his own, swearing, rough draft •-

/////////////

Gong Yoo was having the time of his life. Knowing that he could so easily influence the detective, it filled him with a sadistic sense of glee. He could have Jun-ho at his mercy with just a few simple touches, a fact that he couldn’t not take advantage of.

The original plan had been to simply watch the detective from afar, to ensure Jun-ho came nowhere near the games while also finding a way to use him against his older brother. Something Jun-ho hadn’t exactly made easy once he began searching for Gong Yoo. It made recruitment a little more difficult, though not something Gong Yoo couldn’t manage. Taking the detective into the storeroom of the subway station had simply been a scare tactic, a way to get him to back off a bit. Something that backfired most spectacularly. He simply couldn’t stay away after that, not when there was so much fun to be had. In-ho would be furious once he inevitably found out, yes, but that was even more of an incentive to the recruiter.

Gong Yoo sat in the dimly lit apartment, sipping from a glass of whiskey poured from a bottle he had found in one of the kitchen cupboards. His gaze flickered over the objects on the furniture that made up the room. Of course, the detective lived a minimalist lifestyle, and the only real touch of self-expression was the photos that hung on the wall within the living room. A few of Jun-ho and his mother, alongside older photos of him and his brother. One, a photo of Jun-ho, In-ho, and their mother taken on In-ho’s graduation, Gong Yoo had pulled from the frame and pocketed. He was certain the detective would miss it, but that made it all the more fun.

The clanking of keys caught Gong Yoo’s attention, followed soon after by the sound of the front door beginning to unlock. Gong Yoo, however, made no move to get up from his position on the detective's couch. To Jun-ho’s credit, he caught on right away that something wasn’t quite right. The front door slowly crept open, giving sight to the detective's tense silhouette. It appeared the detective had gotten smarter, judging by the gun he clutched tightly in his hand. Not that that did anything other than further amuse Gong Yoo.

“Get out of my home,” Jun-ho’s angered voice rang out into the apartment. Gong Yoo only chuckled, leaning back against the couch as he took another sip of his drink.

“Are you going to use that on me?” He questioned with a smirk, glancing over the detective carefully. He really was a pretty little thing.

“I might,” Jun-ho hissed. Gong Yoo couldn’t help but find it adorable how hard the detective was trying to be intimidating.

“You won’t,” Gong Yoo countered, watching as Jun-ho flicked on the lights. “Because then you wouldn’t get your answers, and I know how desperately you want those,” He teased, earning a harsh glare from the detective. Gong Yoo couldn’t help but push a little further. “You’re desperate for a lot of things, aren’t you?”

“Shut up!” Jun-ho snapped before stepping further into the room, pointing the gun at Gong Yoo. “You know nothing of what I want and don’t want!”

“I’d say I have a pretty good inclination,” Gong Yoo only said with a smirk. He put his drink down and stood up, enjoying the way the detective’s hand began to shake as he drew closer to him. “You’re not very good at hiding it, little detective,” He stated, his smirk growing as he watched a light blush begin to dust across Jun-ho’s cheeks. The little nickname certainly seemed to affect the man. Gong Yoo took the moment to his advantage, swiftly grabbing the gun and pulling it from Jun-ho’s hand. “Sit down, we’re going to play a game.”

“I’m not playing any of your fucked up little games,” Jun-ho defied, sparking annoyance within Gong Yoo. He narrowed his eyes before speaking up once more.

“I said sit down,” He ordered a little firmer, relishing in how quickly the detective obeyed. Jun-ho sat down in the armchair across from the couch, while Gong Yoo retook his seat on the couch. “Good boy,” He praised, watching the detective squirm from such a simple phrase.

“I hate you,” Jun-ho muttered, as if trying to scrape onto some form of control. “I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t,” Gong Yoo replied simply, taking in every aspect of Jun-ho’s composure as he leaned back in his seat. “You hate how much you easily give in to me,” He snickered softly, loving every moment. “If you truly did hate me, you would have shot me in an instant.”

“I wish I had,” Jun-hi grumbled as he shifted in his seat, the blush remaining on his cheeks.

“You need to stop lying to yourself,” Gong Yoo teased. “Deep down, you know you like having me around. You enjoy me being rough with you, you enjoy taking orders. I could tell you to get on your knees and beg like a dog, and it would take very little convincing for you to do so,” He pointed out, enjoying the way the detective’s blush darkened, and he squirmed once more. It was just too good, to fucking perfect. Gong Yoo took his glass once more and took a sip of the whiskey. “Now, are you ready to play?”

“…What kind of game are we playing here? I’m not about to be slapped around by you,” Jun-ho questioned after a moment.

“Why? Afraid you’ll like it more than getting your hair pulled?” Gong Yoo teased, earning a harsh glare in response. “Relax, little detective. The game is rather simple. In fact, I’m giving you exactly what you wanted,” He said with a small chuckle. “You can ask me any question you want, and I’ll answer it. In return, you’ll answer any question I ask. How does that sound?”

“What’s the catch?” Jun-ho questioned, his eyes narrowing in clear distrust. Smart man. Of course Gong Yoo wouldn’t have allowed it to be that easy.

“Each answer will be a truth or a lie. It’s up to you to decide which is which. If you answer incorrectly, I get to punish you as I see fit,” Gong Yoo answered with a smirk. Jun-ho’s eyes widened, and he squirmed in his seat once more. Gong Yoo wondered just how long it would take before the detective was eating out of the palm of his hand.

“And if you guess incorrectly?” Jun-ho questioned softly, the sound of defeat in his tone.

“Then you’ll choose my punishment, Anything is fair game, little detective,” Gong Yoo answered, his smirk widening as he leaned forward. He propped his elbows up onto his knees, meeting Jun-ho’s gaze and keeping it. “What do you say, little detective? Are you ready to play?” He questioned. Gong Yoo watched as Jun-ho took his time to decide. Hesitation was clear in the detective's eyes, but a look of eagerness shone through his eyes. It was enough to let Gong Yoo know he had already won.

“Yeah…” The detective spoke up eventually, clearing his throat as he nodded* “Yeah, let’s play…”

[arazialotis]

Get Him to the Con - Part 9

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: About 6250

Summary: The reader stumbles into Jensen at her favorite bar, a very drunk Jensen. She soon realizes Jensen was booked for a con this weekend and has to be eight hours from town in only two.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Warnings: It's here, the smut, you made it. NSFW. 18+ Only!

Although this is an RPF, these are fabricated characters and should not reflect back IRL. I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as a coping skill. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

----

The pen tapped repeatedly on the desk. The words jumped off the page and taunted you in a menacing dance. Interpreting legalese to common speech was not your forte. 

“What’s wrong?” Jensen asked, analyzing you from across the room. 

You snapped your attention to him, “Nothing,” and quickly returned to the document. 

“Somethings up.” He continued to press. 

You didn’t look at him this time and continued to read. The desk groaned under his weight as he sat next to you. His thigh was inches away from your trembling hand. His knuckles turned white as he grasped the desk's edge. There was black ink of a rune on his index finger, but you didn't know the meaning. Two fingers began tapping it in rhythm with the pen while he waited. It was as if he was tempting you, rushing the process along. “Y/N,” Jensen took the pen from you, demanding your attention. “If you need to think things over, have your attorney review it; I understand.”

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes (like you had an attorney on standby). As distracting as he was, you wouldn’t let him stop you. You turned a page and kept reading. 

“It’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” He nudged you with his knee and sighed when you didn’t continue. “Talk to me, Y/N.”

Finally, you gave up and leaned back in the chair, looking up at him into that forest of green. There was concern, like he thought you might be second-guessing everything. 

"It's feeling all…" You gestured with your hands. "I don't know. Fifty shades?" 

Your cheeks flushed, embarrassed the admission had come out so easily. You weren't trying to be difficult, really. It was just all unfamiliar. And this next page was just as confusing as the first. This wasn't the moment to skip over the terms and conditions despite the implied reward at the end. Though great enthusiasm was shared yesterday, sleep won over on the return journey. Jensen could only stir you to get you back up to the room. But that time had allowed for the preparations of more formal matters—ones you had to address before moving forward. 

His thumb rubbed against his bottom lip. "If that's what you're into, I can have my legal team draft another contract within the hour." 

Your eyes snapped back to him in shock, only to find his face painted with a shit-eating grin. 

You weren't as amused. "Shut up," you said, swatting him with the piece of paper in your hand. 

Jensen chuckled and pushed off the desk, pacing the room. About to sit on the bed, still a whirlwind of sheets and blankets, he questioned himself and went for the armchair in the corner. 

“In all seriousness, there is nothing more to it than ensuring my privacy. As much as it sucks,” He muffled a laugh conveying his conflict, “I have an image to maintain, a narrative to portray. I know it’s not fair, but those closest to me have to help me carry that burden. In no way is this me not trusting you. It's just your promise to help keep my reputation steady. And you are equally protected, in case I’m secretly a complete asshole. If you need time, I couldn’t encourage it more.” 

With a deep inhale, you mulled things over. You trusted him. Of that, you were certain. If what he said is true, there should be no concerns. Not reading further, you flipped to the last page. The pen scratched against the paper. As the ink cemented your agreement, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that you were signing over your freedom. And in some ways, you were. You were subjecting yourself to hold this weight with him. The world wouldn’t know him as you did. And you would only be able to share what he allowed. Or better said, what his PR team allowed. 

“It’s done.” You brought it to him and dropped it in his lap. 

He grabbed your wrist; his finger grazed over your forearm as if testing for a pulse.

“Thank you.” He whispered sincerely. 

You pulled away. “I am going to freshen up and then find some decent coffee. This hotel stuff is shit.” 

Jensen’s eyes followed you until you locked yourself in the bathroom. The spark remained, but he’d have to rekindle it for a flame. Although spending all day in bed sounded more than ideal, he wanted to repay you, truly show you his gratitude, but mostly work you back into the frenzy he saw you in last night. He went to arrange the file to send back to his team when he saw the date next to your name. It was for the night you first met.

---

“Not even two full days, but I missed ya baby!” You exclaimed as you rubbed the hood of Jensen’s rental.

“Don't you ever disgrace that name again,” He sternly scolded in response. 

You only smirked and joined him in the car. 

“So, seeing where the road takes us?” You asked. 

Jensen plugged an address into the phone. It was a little unsettling after seeing him live the last few days with no plan at all. 

“I have a couple of things up my sleeve.” 

Step one: Obtain copious amounts of caffeine. You agreed on Starbucks. After days of diner and hotel coffee, you needed something consistent and predictable. Step two: Stroll the botanical gardens, test out holding hands, and stop frequently to admire the beauty and smell the flowers, but really use it as an excuse to lean in close together. Jensen’s touch often grazed over your shoulder, brushed your upper arm with the back of his knuckles, trailed down your lower back, and held onto the fabric of your shirt (pinching lightly enough you didn’t notice him tethered to you). Step three: Smile politely as you encounter fans, snap photos for them, and let him take the lead in answering their questions, keeping your responses as vague as possible. Word must have gotten out of his location. Step four: Escape the growing crowd. 

Jensen turned the key and started the car. “Well, shit.” He said, defeated. “That was supposed to be all romantic and cute.” He started driving without a plan. “It was.” You assured. “Until it turned into a clusterfuck.” 

You laughed, but Jensen was not amused. 

“It’s okay.” You rubbed his hand on the gear stick. “We’ll find something…” You gasped and slapped your hand against his chest, sending Jensen into a near heart attack. “Oh my god, was that Voodoo’s?”

“Jesus!” Jensen swore, swerving to regain control of the car.

But you were oblivious to his panic, having turned a full one-eighty in your seat. 

“Oh my god,” you repeated. “It totally is! Turn back around!” You instructed him, and when he didn’t immediately pull a U-turn, you came back to the front, practically shouting, “Turn around!”

It wasn’t the paperwork that morning or the stolen kisses or even yesterday’s panel that officially deemed you a couple. It was this: the first time he showed actual (not feigned) annoyance with you. 

“What the hell is going on?” He demanded.

How had he not caught up yet? “Voodoo doughnuts!” you exclaimed. “It's been like forever since I had one. They’re not out by me!” “All this for overrated doughnuts?” Jensen huffed. “You scared the shit out of me.”

You scoffed in offense. “They are not overrated.”

“They most definitely are.” He argued. 

“Jensen, please.” You whined in desperation. 

His ear perked up, and the annoyance melted into fascination. That was a phrase he could get used to. Granted, this was not the context in which he first wanted to hear it.  He made the mistake of looking at you, finding those same puppy-dog eyes Jared was so good at. 

He sighed and gave in. “Fine, fine.” 

Ten minutes later, Jensen was eating his words. Although he verbally stood by his previous statement, the tenacity with which he consumed not one but two doughnuts was all the confirmation that you needed to know you had won. 

Strolling down Colfax, you found a few cute shops. Initially, you were only going to window shop until you passed a bookstore. You pulled Jensen in with the same urgency you expressed upon seeing Voodoo’s. Jensen simply watched as you pointed out all the books on your TBR and those with cute covers. He was wise in not suggesting procuring them as he knew you’d have to purchase a second suitcase for the return journey home. Instead, he asked questions, attempting to understand what appealed to your taste. He’d lick his lips, nod, rub his jaw, enthralled by how your eyes lit up, talking with vigor and passion. And truly, he was paying attention, but the logic of your preferences was not computing. 

He checked his watch and eventually corraled you out with only one book in hand. But progress was lost once he spotted the record shop across the walkway. Now, it was his turn to drag you in. Initially, you started browsing together but wandered apart in search of your respective genres. For a moment, you became lost in time, searching through the miscellaneous “T’s” in the hunt for a favorite artist. An unsettling feeling that someone was watching you brought you back. The store wasn’t busy; two employees were sorting through new arrivals behind the counter, a younger guy sporting chunky headphones sampling a record on a turntable, and a few browsers. From across the store, you found the onlooker. Jensen was methodically observing your process. But his intense gaze melted into a warm smile that heated your heart, and he gave a bashful wave before looking through his stack of collections. 

It was clear that your hunt would fail. You ambled closer to him and, from behind, wrapped your arms around his waist, peeking at the current selection he was sorting through. His free hand joined yours, wrapping you against him tighter. 

“Oh, that’s a good one.” You pointed. “You should get it.”

Jensen flipped it over to see the list of tracks on the back and caught sight of his watch. 

“Shoot,” He said, gathering all the records in his arms. “We gotta go.”

“What?” You asked, chasing after him. 

Jensen plopped his records on the counter. “Hi, how are ya?” he said half-heartedly before addressing you, “We got stuff to do.” That didn’t clarify anything. You checked your phone for the time, wondering if it somehow hadn’t adjusted timezones. “We have dinner at 6?” But that was still several hours away. 

He paid for his items and raised a brow at you. “It’s not dinner.” You squinted at him, trying to read behind his nonchalant expression and motives. “What exactly do you have in mind?” 

He inhaled sharply, grabbed his bagged records, and headed out the door with you trailing behind. “It’s a surprise, " he finally disclosed. 

You bit your lip, hoping for a steamy rendezvous back at the hotel, but despite your pestering, he would not divulge any further information. And if your sense of direction was correct, once you were back in the car, you were headed further away from the hotel, not toward it. In fact, it seemed like you were heading back to Golden. The possibilities ran through your head. 

“You’re not taking me to the Coors Tour, are you?” You asked and then regretted the disdain in your voice in case that was what he had planned. 

He huffed a laugh. “A pretentious snob such as yourself? Never.” And relief flooded you. “Though you are due for a private tour of Family Business.”

“I don’t know. I hear their ratings are inflated ‘cause they have a cute owner,” you teased. 

“Smart-ass. And it’s co-owner.” He scoffed. “I’ll have to tell Liam to cool it with the charm. Need the beer to speak for itself.”

“Liam?” “My brother.” “Right, right.” You remembered. On the first leg of the journey, you both talked about family.

“It is the Family Business, after all.” 

“True.” You agreed. “So, is the whole family involved?” “Liam the most; he’s the one brewing and creating new flavor profiles. Harper was more involved in the beginning with graphic design and marketing. Mom and Pop just hang around for free samples. Ingrid’s not really involved. She has always marched to her own beat.” He smiled fondly at the end as he turned off the highway. “We’ll have you meet Liam first. He’ll be the least overbearing and easiest to talk to.”

You gulped. You had come to peace in rushing the physical things. God, you wished that was what you were doing right now, but meeting the family? Even just talking about it sent a wave of uneasiness through you. There was a certain level of commitment necessary for that kind of step. It wasn’t that you were afraid of commitment, but you feared Jensen might be taking this too lightly, like a candle burning too hot. Or maybe it was because of your own family. Sure, he had talked some shit about his on the way here, but they seemed like the Rockwell Thanksgiving painting in comparison to yours. You weren’t sure you ever wanted your family to meet him. You’d always been more comfortable with your friends. They were more a family to you than blood. Your NDA was one thing; how did actual family or even friends play into that?

“Close your eyes,” Jensen instructed, thankfully pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. You would take this one step at a time.

You did as he asked but did not hesitate to voice your opinion. “This feels weird.”

“Almost there."

You felt the car slow, felt the crunch of gravel underneath, and eventually halted to a stop. 

“Can I open my eyes?” “Not yet.”

You heard him unbuckle his seatbelt and leave the car. A moment later, your car door creaked open. He undid your seatbelt, clasped your hands over your eyes, reinforced the no-peeking rule, and guided you blindly into position. He stood behind you, securing his hands over yours for extra security. 

“Dr. Grant, welcome to Jurassic Park.” He gave his best John Hammond impersonation and uncovered your eyes.

You blinked away the bright sun and adjusted to the light, taking in your surroundings. Confused at first, you waited for your brain to catch up. Horribly painted dinosaur statues were scattered throughout the grassy patches of the dusty parking lot. Was that a stegasaurus painted as the American Flag? And the derpiest T-Rex in existence. Aside from the paper-mache dinosaur renditions, a small shed and outhouse were the only buildings in sight. 

“Oh no," you laughed. “What in the roadside attraction hell is this place? Is this payback for the mystery spot?” He silently chuckled. “As much as I wish that it was, I did my research, and although this,” He waved at the general set up, “up there is a trail with actual fossils in the hills. We have a tour with a geologist in about five minutes.” His excitement dropped as he tried to read yours. “You hate it? It’s stupid, I…” “No! No.” You cut him off. “It’s. Well. When I pictured how our day would be spent,” You didn’t know how to put it lightly, and you were committed to being more forward with him anyway. “I thought we’d be fucking each other’s brains out, not… healing my inner child.”

Jensen inhaled, about to speak, but stopped. He started again, then mentally pictured the two of you entwined and blinked rapidly. He grabbed your hand and began dragging you back to the car. Your heels dug into the ground, and there was a mischievous smile on your face. “Oh, hell no. You brought me to see dinosaurs. The opportunity to shoot your shot has sadly faded, my friend. It’ll be a miracle if I ever leave these hills.”

His hand wound behind your neck, gripping it gently as his lips drew closer to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, waiting for a kiss that never came. Jensen was so close that the tip of his nose was only a thread away from yours, yet you could still see the smug grin plastered on his face. 

His voice was a low growl. “Are you as much of a brat in bed as you are in real life?” You nearly melted into a puddle, but his grip held you steady. It took a breath to regain your composure, but eventually, you matched his domineering presence. You inched your lips closer to his, hovering, and as you spoke, they brushed against each other. 

Your whisper was as smooth as velvet. “I guess you’ll have to wait for our Vegas trip to find out.” You grazed your hand up his inner thigh, and as you tenderly squeezed your prize, you nipped at his bottom lip. As soon as it happened, you pulled away and patted his stunned cheek. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some extremely important matters to discuss with our new geologist friend.” You didn’t wait for him to respond and sauntered to the wooden outpost labeled museum. Jensen watched the sway of your hips as you grew further away. He shuddered as if casting off a chill and chased after you, knowing fully well he was leashed to you despite your distaste for the analogy. 

---

You rushed back to the hotel, fearing you’d be late for dinner, but you insisted on freshening up from the sweat and dust of the hike. Maybe you could have axed some of the questions to save time, but you loved watching Jensen roll his eyes and meander onward as you debated nonsensical topics with the geologist. You burst into the hotel room, hoping you had enough time to scramble in at least a new coat of deodorant and fix your hair.  Jensen trailed behind you, carrying the shopping bags and your crossbody. 

“Why is your bag so heavy?” he called after you, setting it down with a thunk. Curiosity got the better of him, and he rifled through it, pulling out several rocks. He sighed. “What am I going to do with you?” 

“What?” You feigned innocence as you rushed frantically around the room. “There were signs everywhere explicitly saying not to take any rocks.” He rubbed his forehead.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I had those rocks with me before we went hiking.” You said as you applied a thin layer of lip gloss. 

He fished through them. “Then tell me why this one so closely resembles the layer of volcanic ash.” You looked at the rock he held, and your smile resembled a grimace. “I plead the fifth? I only took three. None of them were actually fossils. I’m only a klepto when it comes to rocks. And not gift shop rocks, only rocks in their natural state.” He wasn’t buying any of your excuses. “They needed me. I rescued them. If they stayed on the trail, they would only be ground into gravel.” He sighed and set the rock down. “How many more crimes do you plan on committing this trip?” 

Your grimace turned up, and your tongue peaked out between your teeth. “I think I have room for a few more.”

“I keep forgetting to run your background check. And now I am going to need three character references as well.” He said so sternly you couldn’t tell if it was his dry humor or seriousness. 

You pursed your lips together and crept to him. He eyed your path, unmoving as you grabbed the collar of his shirt. “Will this suffice?”

You drew his lips to yours, meeting with a harsh need. He mirrored your hunger, the lip gloss gliding his lips against yours, its faint taste of sweet berries dancing on his tongue. You pressed further into him as you arched your body against his. 

He broke the kiss with a warning whisper: “Don’t think you can bribe your way out of this.”

But his lips eagerly sought out the pulse of your neck. His hands wandered under your shirt, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as yours untucked his shirt and went for the button of his jeans. His eyes shot to the red lights of the alarm clock, and he pulled away. 

“After dinner, " he promised, settling his grip on your shoulders, keeping you at arm's length. 

You looked back at the clock and returned with a new glint in your eyes. You began pulling your hair back. 

“Give me two minutes.” You instructed. 

Jensen’s eyes followed you as you sank to the ground, rolling them back as you went for his zipper. 

----

The restaurant was bustling with chatter and laughter. You sat next to Jensen at a long table hosting cast and crew still around from the weekend. You were trapped in the booth side but unpanicked as Jensen leaned against the back, his arm wrapped around your shoulder. Jared, along with a few others, had caught a flight back earlier this afternoon, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that had also relieved some of the anxiety. Regardless, you played with the straw wrapper underneath the table. 

Rob, to his left, squinted, observing a change he couldn’t quite place. “I think this is the most at ease I’ve seen you in six months.”

You exhaled through puffed cheeks and returned to the menu, trying to conceal your blush, knowing exactly what had caused Jensen’s newfound relaxed state. 

Jensen cleared his throat and adjusted the seam of his pants while attempting to channel his default rigid demeanor. “Oh, you know what they say about the mountain air.” “Higher elevation,” Misha commented from across the table. “Hearts beat faster to increase blood flow due to the lack of oxygen. Don’t overdo the physical activity, you two; it could lead to altitude sickness.” 

You buried your head further into the menu. 

Jensen stared at Misha, unblinking. “Why are you the way you are?”

“What?” Misha defended himself. “You said you went hiking earlier. Oh,” he finally got it and giggled. “That’s why you’ve been so late to everything this whole weekend.”

You muttered a curse into the menu. 

Carla, a crew member sitting to your right, continued the teasing with a chirp. “And why you’re so relaxed.” She then turned her attention to you, forcing you back into the conversation.  “You are coming back to Vancouver with us, right? He’s been an absolute bear on set.” “I have not!” He whined. “No, he has,” Misha agreed. “He’s always been a bear! You need to come with us.” “I’m the bear?” He grumbled. “What about the time…” You cut him off. “I do have a job, unfortunately, and responsibilities. Jensen, honey, you need to play nice with your friends at work. No more pranks on poor Misha.” “Thank you!” Misha exclaimed. But your teasing earned you a pinch to the side. 

“Okay, but seriously.” Rob stuttered sheepishly. “Maybe you could arrange to come up once a month for like a long weekend or something?”

“I’m not that bad.” Jensen strained. “Kim, back me up.”

She chewed on an appetizer and tilted her head back and forth, weighing a response. “They’re just teasing you. You’re a sensitive kind of guy. As with all of us, sometimes those emotions bleed onto the set.” “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” He muttered. But you gasped. “It’s ‘cause he’s a Pisces! He can’t help it. If he’s grumpy, give him space to process all those emotions swimming up around there, and he’ll come back on his own time to talk things over.”

“That is enough out of you.” He warned. 

But it was too late. The table had dived fully into the realm of zodiac signs, guessing each other’s and looking up horoscopes. 

Bri, next to Kim, read Pisces’ out loud, “After a season of trials, matters of the heart this week become effortless. Spend time on your current connection, enhancing and empowering the relationship, as your partner is truly worth the effort. As Venus moves into your 8th house, intimacy has the potential to be more blissful than ever before.”

“If there was ever a signal to get off third base and slide into home.” You commented, feeling a little more comfortable with the group and earned a round of chuckles. 

“Excuse me!” Jensen's voice cracked as he called over the laughter and giggles. He raised his hand, getting the server’s attention. “Can we place our orders? Thank you!”

---

You entered the hotel room one last time, and finally, this time, nothing in front of you but the promise of tomorrow—no more group outings, no more road trip side shows, and definitely no more hiking. 

It wasn’t how you pictured it, how either of you pictured it. It was neither frenzied nor rushed. There wasn’t an all-consuming hunger that overtook you or a restless panic that would cease only if you became entwined. It was slow. Perhaps because you had the whole night ahead or more likely because of the favor you had pulled early. But more than that. It was because you wanted to fully savor every moment, lock it to memory, knowing this first embrace of passion could never be replicated. 

Jensen held your hand as he led you through the room. At the edge of the bed, he repeatedly brushed your knuckles against his lips, searching your eyes, forming an unspoken agreement, ensuring your desires had not changed. The bed springs groaned as he sat down, pulling you down to straddle his lap. You held his jaw in your hands, tracing small circles through his stubble with your thumbs. Each of you studied the other, memorizing the small details of freckles and wrinkles and colors as an artist would their subject. 

You softly pressed your lips against his, noses grazing as you did, and waited, watching. At first, he matched your stillness but was the first to break. His lips guided tenderly against yours before pressing further into you. The ambient sounds of the hotel surrounded you as you wove fingers through hair: the siren of an ambulance, the padding of feet in the hallway, the muffled voices from adjoining rooms. 

Jensen’s hands danced along the hem of your shirt. A shiver ran through your body as the cool metal of a ring claimed the warmth of your skin. His hands kneaded against soft flesh and muscle as they mapped the shape of you.  With one hand braced between your shoulder blades and the other gripping your hip, he flipped you onto your back. His hips dug into yours as his lips nursed that sensitive spot on your neck. You arched your chest into his and moaned. 

“Fuck, this is actually happening, isn’t it?” You gasped. 

Jensen gave a sultry chuckle and trailed his lips down your collarbone. You couldn’t deny you had dreamed of this moment for so long- since before you even knew him. And now it was here, actually here. A dull ache formed at your core. Your brave, sarcastic, bratty facade shed as you let him glimpse everything you truly were. 

“Jensen,” You called for him, abandoning the avoidance of haste. “Please.”

It took every ounce of his willpower to maintain the tranquil pace as you begged for him. But eventually, he gave in, overcome by his own need. Jensen sat up, pulling you up with him, and in the same motion, fully removed your shirt and bra, already loose from a move moments earlier Dean Winchester himself would have been proud of. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” He looked down at you as you displayed yourself proudly.

Propped up on your elbows, you swayed teasingly side to side and loved how words and thoughts melted from his mind. But your arrogance shattered as he met your assessing gaze with a darkness, a greed you had never seen on him before. You sank back to the mattress, and he followed as if there was a magnetic pull. A hand snaked from your waist, along your ribs, and stopped just underneath, his thumb nearly grazing the prize he sought so desperately. Silently, he searched for permission before continuing his pursuit. 

“Gods, Jensen.” You grew impatient and grabbed his face, pulling him down to meet your breasts.

With one hand kneading, the other held you steady as his head nuzzled against the soft flesh. He rubbed against your nipple, and you bowed further into him, encouraging, manifesting more. His lips grazed against your hard peak before taking it fully into his mouth, whining as he did from the taste of you. As the ache in your core grew, your incoherent praises began to drown out the world around you. The sensation of his tongue, and teeth, and calloused thumb was overwhelming, and pressure began to build. 

“Jensen, please.” You begged again, somehow forming words, already chasing release. “I need you.” 

He paused, coming up for air, his hand sliding down to your hip as he did. It was too far apart. You needed him; you needed him to be glued to every inch of you, to know you fully. You grabbed his hand and brought it back up, but he remained unfazed, calculating his next move. 

“Come here,” He instructed and rolled to his side. 

You whimpered in protest as the heat and closeness of him retreated. But he quickly amended as he drew you closer, one arm sliding beneath your back. Both hands went for your jeans, and you eagerly helped undo their constraint, shimmying out of them. And just like that, you presented yourself fully. There were no barriers, nothing in between, nothing that separated you. You could feel his gaze rake your body as if it were his fingers caressing every inch. He inhaled sharply before meeting your eyes and kissed you deeply. 

“Beautiful.” He whispered between breaths. “So fucking beautiful.”

Even though his arm was pinned behind your back, he adjusted his hold of you so his hand could become reacquainted with your breast. With his free hand, he took yours and parted from your lips. 

“Show me.” He instructed.

Your eyes never left each other’s as you guided him down to your center until the brashness of his strong fingers clashed against your soft core. Your eyes rolled back upon the impact. But the relief was short-lived as his hand remained limp. 

“Show me.” He reminded you, his lips whispering against your ear. 

Your hand hovered delicately over his as you governed his movements to heighten the sensation. He carefully studied every movement, every circle, every reaction, every sound that escaped with your breath. His movements became his own as he practiced the patterns until he found the same reactions as before. Then he took control and dipped two fingers into your core. Lightly at first, testing the entrance and then altogether plunging into your very center. You helped instruct the pace, but he placed yours back over your clit, taking the lead. Together, you worked yourself inside and out. Your whimpers grew into a slew of fractured curses. 

“You’re close?” He asked, taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Fuck,” You whined. 

His pace built, and his lips danced along your hair, breathing in your scent. 

“Let go.” He kissed your temple. 

“Jensen.” You cried, barely able to withstand the heated intensity. 

“Come on, Y/N.” He refused to cease. “Show me.”

You shattered, shuttering into his cradle as you rode through the release of surging waves. Both of you panted, attempting to settle your racing hearts. 

“So fucking beautiful.” He repeated, kissing you once again. 

The rough denim of his jeans scraped against your thigh as he popped the button free, and a new fever overtook you. It was not enough. You needed more. You needed all of him. You hooked your leg under his and flipped him to his back. His eyes were wide, and his hands held up in surrender from the surprise as you quickly removed what separated you from him. Once free, your lips hovered over his hard length, your nails grazed against the tufts of hair but denied him touch. 

Already cognizant of what your mouth could do, he wanted to familiarize himself with other parts of you. He pulled you up so your hips were flush with his. You took the tip of his shaft in your hand and rolled, wettening him with his own precum. His head sank deeper into the pillows as he groaned for more. You took him between your folds, grinding his length against your clit, stoking the embers back to flame. Jensen lifted his head and watched, utterly at your mercy. Gods, he had already gotten off early today, but just by the sight of you, he feared he wouldn’t last long. 

As you continued your pace, he reached for the nightstand, digging through the bag you prudently acquired last night. He fumbled with the box, trying to get a grasp on the edge, but was having difficulty concentrating as you drew closer and closer to climax.  If he didn’t hurry, he was going to spill before he was even inside you. 

The box slipped from his hands. “Dammit,” He chuckled, defeated. 

You slowed, chuckling with him, and stopped altogether, assisting him with the box. It gave him a chance to regain his composure, although he knew he’d lose it entirely in seconds. You rolled the condom over him, lined him to your entrance, and paused. His eyes snapped to yours, a grin brightened his face, and he nodded. 

You lowered down onto him, weaving yourselves together. You tested the waters slowly at first, but after you adjusted, drove into a claiming rhythm. He gasped and gripped your hips, controlling your movements and slowing your relentless pace. He wanted this moment to last. He never wanted it to end. You fought against him, desperate for another high.

“Y/N,” He cried. “For fuck’s sake.” 

It was both too much and not enough. He needed more, to be closer, to feel your chest against his, to remove the space that separated you. There was no gentleness this time as he braced you and sharply flipped you. His weight deliciously trapping you. The sculpted edges of muscle confined your soft and delicate features as if you could be molded together. You squirmed for movement, for friction, for anything to provide you relief. But he just watched. 

“Please,” you moaned. “Fuck me. I need you to fuck me.”

“Shh.” He hushed you, but it only drove you more feral. 

His thumb rolled against your lower lip. Needing pressure, you sought your own help, trying to wedge your hand between your bodies. But he grabbed both your wrists, pinning them above your head. He waited until you settled, until the hysteria dissipated, and he held your full attention. Then and only then, when you looked him calmly in the eye, did he thrust as if he wanted you to be aware every moment who was fucking you. His speed increased, and you cried in ecstasy as he bore into you again and again. 

“Jensen, oh god,” You gasped.

You ripped your wrists from his hold and griped his shoulders, nails digging in as he tested the new angle. He grabbed the back of your neck, pressing your mouth to his, his tongue sliding in to meet yours, consuming the sounds of carnal worship. Your bodies locked together, the coils of springs knotting tighter and tighter. 

“Y/N,” Jensen called again, his voice an octave higher. 

He couldn’t hold on much longer. He freed a hand to meet your apex once more and, with an expert’s touch, mirrored the movements he had learned only moments before. 

“Come for me, sweetheart.” He encouraged through strained teeth, fighting his own release. 

Quickly, he pried his hand from you, positioning your leg so your knee was held up by his forearm. It was too much to handle; deeper, harsher than before, electricity being sparked again and again at an unyielding pace. And when his hand returned, circling, you unraveled beneath his touch.

“Fuck,” he grunted not far behind and collapsed on top of you. 

--- 

“This is stupid,” You said, refusing to meet his gaze. 

It was already well into the morning as you stood by your second rental car, prolonging the inevitable by every minute possible. The hotel loomed overhead. A few fans, cast members, and crew remained, but the excitement of the weekend had dwindled. And both of you had places to be. Jensen to a flight in three hours back to Vancouver, and you back to your job who was all too willing to agree to some last-minute PTO but most likely would not be as grateful if you extended it any further.

“What’s stupid?” Jensen asked.

He took your chin in his grasp and tilted your head to meet his gaze. Concern grew across his face as a stray tear trickled down. He wiped it away with his thumb. 

“I’m three for three on leaving you at a hotel and crying as I do.” You shamefully admitted. 

He embraced you, tucking your head protectively under his chin. “It’ll get easier. I promise.” 

Dating your celebrity crush was new to you, but what terrified you the most was being new to a long-distance relationship. You nodded but still were not fully convinced. 

---

Continue Here to Part 10

TAGS:

Everything Jackles: @akshi8278

GHTTC: @maggiegirl17 @foxyjwls007 @djs8891 @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @ghostofjoharvelle @ellen-reincarnated1967 @deansgirl79 @chriszgirl92

[ohchosen]

AUTHOR PORTRAIT ... get to know the author behind the blog! repost, don't reblog !

BASICS

NAME:        val AGE:         24 PRONOUNS:         she / they YEARS OF WRITING:          ok how specific are we talking. because i can say like circa 2010 i was on facebook writing bad twilight fanfiction + rp ( which then progressed into bad thg fanfiction ) or i can say elementary school and my little short stories i was always ad - libbing. regardless, it's definitely something i've had a knack for my whole life and it was literally just a matter of time before i found out about rp. and yes before you ask it was my personal facebook. when i was 11. that had all of my relatives added. yes they saw it. years writing on tumblr is different and i think i jumped ship and found out about tumblr rp around 2012 / 2013 and with that came my first formative decision which was to watch supernatural. you know where this is going. yes it was bad. no i'm not showing anyone.

REFLECTION

WHY DID YOU PICK UP WRITING?           i needed a hobby and had unrestricted internet access. i kind of answered this in the question before so jokes on me blah blah blah but without getting too personal i had a very difficult time in school with mental health and tumblr, known weird kid haven, was my little safe space where i could freely pursue what i enjoyed and was really my first venture into fandom spaces. i started in the supernatural rpc [ horror music ] and slowly meandered my way through book fandoms, to animanga, and finally settled on the video game community where i've been good and SAT for like six years now.

DO YOU HAVE ANY WRITING ROUTINES?          not necessarily. it's a miracle if i'm able to sit down long enough to open up my drafts and get going, but if i can lock in i'm all set. i find it hard to listen to music while writing because my brain cannot separate the two and i will accidentally start writing down the lyrics but i've never actually considered tuning into instrumentals so ,, thank you vos. writing that down............

WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE PART ABOUT WRITING?         stealing from vos in stealing answer solidarity but the rp community aspect. it can be awful and exhausting as some of us know good and well but it can also be incredible depending on who you surround yourself with. it's so validating finding people who share your little niche interest or even niche - er pairing ( hi vos ) and then to just completely devolve into sending memes and posts and screaming until 2 am in dms. i've met so many of my closest friends through rp, and stealing vos' answer again, but the characters i write who turn out the most developed are those who have been shared with friends. noctis would be nowhere near as fleshed out as he is if not for the people i met in the ff fandom all those years ago.

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOUR WRITING.         oughhghh, um. i'm bad at taking compliments and even worse at complimenting myself so bare with me.

i've definitely grown a lot in terms of style and prose, and i'm actually pretty happy with what i'm able to spit out in terms of aesthetic styling as compared to even a few years ago. one of my biggest insecurities ( that still pops up here and again mind you ) was never being able to match length, and i was in the worst writers' block for a few years that i finally managed to escape out of around 2020 and now i can confidently say i'm writing more regularly than i ever have. so to answer the question: it has been my personal growth in my writing and it turning into something i can be confident in and proud of.

i really do enjoy the mundanity of editing my replies. i love to see the progress i make edit by edit and how cohesive and put together a piece of writing becomes the longer i work on it. i fully 100% devote myself to one reply at a time, which is a nightmare for quantity but sooooooo rewarding if it means i can put something out to the best of my ability and not stress myself out worrying about whatever else i owe. i am a self appointed slowpoke, and i've learned over the years to not let myself feel guilty about that because as long as it can become something i devote time on and put effort into, then it really shouldn't bother me how long it takes.

three things is too much to ask for lets all just walk away slowly.

A QUESTION FOR THE NEXT PERSON

HAVE  YOU  MADE  ANY  STRONG  CONNECTIONS  /  FRIENDS DURING YOUR TIME WRITING?          i'm pretty sure this question was intended for vos only but its way too late now and i've already written your accolades so you have to deal with it. this post is just going to be exceptionally long now.

vos @stagehunt my right hand man who has been with me for every gacha related poor financial decision. everything you said i'm literally sending right back to you. i knew no one in that fandom and was in way out of my depth before stumbling across you and your blog. i am so thankful we crossed paths and shoved our little barbie dolls together and said kiss because developing, and i mean really developing tomo would not have happened without your input. at this point you definitely deserve writing credits on him too because the way he turned out would be nowhere near the same if not for your influence. i've had a blast experiencing genshin's story with you and knowing without fail you'll be thinking the exact same thing whenever hyv fumbles the bag again, and yes. one day i GUESS i'll play more than 7 hours of hsr. luv u xoxo.

plum, @sherez, my love, my heart. it's crazy how fast the years have flown by and now all of a sudden i've known you since 2018??? i still remember seeing you from afar on ez and always being blown away by how much love and devotion you put into your characters. we are quite literally bonded for life after surviving the [ redacted ] rpc and i can't think of anyone better to come out beside than you. you can't get rid of me bitch!!!!!!!!! the amount of effort and care i've seen you throw into v, and how far she's come in terms of development blows me away. she is easily one of the best written characters i've ever had the pleasure of reading and i am so excited to keep following her growth. besides how freakishly talented you are, it's astonishing how much we have in common. bc who tf else would i be talking to about forgotten mcr lore in the year of our lord 2024. if no one got me, i know plum got me. booket....... booket for my sweety.......

lu @tactition its crazy how in the short little time we've spent together how much i've bonded with u. if i got down on one knee and pulled out a ring would u say yes.... my yaoi soulmate........ its INSANE how well our character Types (tm) mesh together, and i know karma is coming with its kiss for me when i finally download nier and have to atone for what i put u thru when i made you play final fantasy. please be gentle with me im delicate........... real talk tho.. you have so quickly become such an important person in my daily life and i literally feel myself go !!!! whenever i see a new dm from you because i know its always gonna be good. your character takes blow me away and even for myself who's nearly 7 years deep into the final fantasy scene, it amazes me how you still manage to shed light and new perspective on characters i've known for years. let’s kiss freaky style.

i've very much condensed my little bubble into people i actually want to surround myself with atp, and there's always a handful of mutuals on every blog that i don't necessarily talk to but who have been with me for years now so. sorry you can't leave or i'll become a danger to myself and others. kisses :*

WHERE DO YOU DRAW THE MOST INSPIRATION FROM? this is definitely a muse - specific question since it varies from character to character. with noctis specifically, it's mostly music. i have a few different playlists for him after writing him for so long, and while i can't listen while i write they all offer different types of mood setting for him. other times, its media involving fantasy tropes or characters that have similar struggles to him, off the top of my head ( and something i connected early on ) is the character u.enoyama r.itsuka from given. there's a lot i could say here regarding which aspects i took inspiration from but the majority was the similar personality he has to noctis, the internal thought process he offered when i read the manga, and the way he struggled with his sexuality that struck the loudest chord. don't quote me on any of that since i haven't been caught up with given for like 5 years now but !!!!! yeah the end.

NEW QUESTION: how do you relate to your character personally? are there any overt similarities to the two of you?

tagged by @stagehunt my lover..... tagging - @lunabrae @tactition @sherez

[onbearfeet]

5 please!

"How did you figure out your OC's identity?"

Well, Maggie was easy; she more or less punched me in the face with her bisexuality, like she does almost everything else, while I was writing her initial profile in my notes. After that, the only question was whether/how to bring it up, since the first book really didn't have room for a romance and Maggie tends to keep her personal info to herself by default. So there was a possibility that Maggie's orientation wouldn't be mentioned at all, simply because she had no reason to bring it up or even think about it in narration. I didn't want to leave it for later, though, for fear it would seem like a retcon.

Hilariously, Gabe solved that problem for me.

Gabe was more difficult to figure out. I knew from the start that I wanted to connect him deeply to queer history in general and Black queer history in particular. His role in the story requires a lot of historical context; he's sort of a window into the past of the world we inhabit. As a kid, I always liked it when older heroes or legacy heroes showed up in comics--your Justice Society or Invaders teams, for example--because it made the world feel more lived in, like there was an ordinary kind of history to it. Sure, we know Captain America punched Hitler, but I always liked that we might also see a character dig through a box of their grandfather's junk and find a 1930s gas gun next to some snapshots of unfortunate hairstyles. I liked that ordinary-ness, so I knew Gabe would be connected in a very ordinary, human way to some older characters--one in particular, actually. He's the guy who digs through the boxes.

However, since the series is predicated on the idea that marginalized heroes have always existed, I knew the history Gabe connected to had to include that marginalization. I had already decided that Gabe's superhero forbear would have been (in his secret identity) an investigative reporter from the 1930s or 40s who ended up being murdered for his journalism rather than his masked activities, so I decided to place that journalist within the history of excellent but overlooked Black journalists of the period.

And THEN I watched a documentary about Bayard Rustin, and somehow that long-ago journalist became a gay man in my head, and I started researching Black queer history in New York. (There are these amazing journals in a university archive--long story.)

Now, Gabe was closely connected to this dead journalist in a way I can't describe due to spoilers, and I knew Gabe himself would be some variety of queer, but he didn't feel gay in my head, if that makes sense? I tried a few identities on him, noodling around in drafts and exercises, but it wasn't until I sat down to write a scene in an early chapter that he made himself known. If Maggie punched me in the face, Gabe murmured in my ear.

Quick note about how I write scenes: my usual method is, for lack of a better description, to hit play on a movie in my head, play a few seconds, and then pause to write down what I've seen. I don't have very much control over what happens in the movie--at least, not consciously--so sometimes I write something and I'm just as surprised as you are. This is one of those times.

This scene required Maggie and Gabe to climb a whole bunch of stairs, and Maggie had to go first for reasons. Having known Gabe for all of ten minutes and being someone who doesn't trust easily, she told him she'd stab him if she caught him staring at her ass, groping her, etc.

And Gabe, cinnamon roll that he is, asked why anyone would do that.

And that's how I knew Gabe was ace--because I'm acespec, and that's the kind of question I asked a lot at his age. So I let him explain himself on the page. Gabe has a certain wholesomeness about him that's oddly disarming, even to me (and makes the twist in his story later on a lot of fun), and that's how Maggie ended up explaining her bisexuality to him in the kind of "Oh, thank God, another queer" interaction I think most of us have had at some point.

And so, much as Maggie booting a Nazi in the head in Chapter 1 established the politics of this book up front, there's a conversation somewhere around Chapter 3 that clears up who's what and why and how. I am not usually this organized.

There's also a third lead character who is ALSO queer, but I'm leaving their story a mystery for now. Gender-wise, they're probably nonbinary, but if you asked them their sexual orientation, they'd probably just give you a Look. That blank on my notes is currently just "???????". Maybe they'll figure it out when they're not actively having an existential crisis. As to how I figured it out ... I tried on a few gender identities, and they just sort of sat there in my head, staring at me, until I backed off and they picked up they/them pronouns without further explanation.

I understand that some writers actually plan out things like their characters' LGBTQIA identities in advance. That sounds wonderfully relaxing. I'll have to try it someday.

[fffightoffyourdemonsss]

A listener sent an email to the podcast this week with a question that I found really difficult to answer. I had promised complete honesty, and I try to be a man of my word, so I answered it. Here is my response.

What do you want most out of life?

At first I thought this was a cop-out type of question. I thought wow, I’ve given you one chance for absolute honesty and you could’ve asked what happened with my marriage or why I left the church or who my love letters were to and you choose this? 

Then I started to think about my honest answer and the gravity of the question hit me and I said to myself "ok you stop thinking about that now" and I went back to the John Lennox talk I was watching. 

Anyway, I sat down this evening and drafted up an answer while trying to not let emotion overcome me. 

Ever since I was young I wanted to be a dad. There’s a formative moment that I remember in which my friends and I had gone down to Jellybean pool (I actually think my favourite Kim in the world was there, your sister to clarify). We were moving from the entrance where the big set of stairs were, to the rock that people jump off to the right. There’s a bunch of terrain that is a bit tricky to get over, and there was a dad and his young son there. The dad had gone ahead to show the son how to navigate it and the son was really afraid and was having a bit of anxious panic. The dad didn’t go and get his son, pick him up and carry him over the rocks because he was frightened, he told him that he could do it and that he was right there. It took some encouraging and it took some convincing and some tears from the son, but eventually he took a step off where he was and there you go, he did it, and he hit the ground and his dad laughed and cheered and the son’s tears turned to laughter and joy. I was 16 at the time and I remember it just ripping me apart emotionally. There was a lot in that 3 minutes of action, you know. The decisions by each individual to shape an experience that was unforgettable at the very least for me, if not them, too. The safety the father provided. The resilience he instilled. The unwavering commitment to the lesson. It was really significant in my own development as a person and who I wanted to be. 

This question is a hard one to answer because despite what people tell me, I think I may have missed this opportunity. I do not think I will be a father. I don’t want to speak negatively to it but I am a realist. It’s just how it is. So I have had to pivot what I want out of life. I think in essence, I want to be someone with a legacy. I want what I do in my life to affect people’s lives in a life changing way. I want something that I do to have the same effect that that dad and his son had on me when I was 16.

[immortalmint]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you @peachytea04 and @childlikegoblinqueen for the tag! I took my sweet time getting to this :D

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 

One at the moment. But I have older stuff lurking on an even older fic site.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 

144,365 which isn't bad considering it comes from just one fic.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The Owl House at present. I used to write for Final Fantasy VII before the ridiculous movie and highly inconsistent spinoff games came out. (I have not played the remake yet - waiting to see if they do Vincent right or butcher him as they did in Dirge of Cerberus. Ugh....)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 

Shadow's Reach is all you get. But there's plenty of stories within the story because flashbacks are my jam.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? 

Yes! Because it's nice of people to bother to leave them. I like encouraging prosocial behavior and reciprocating kindness :)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't have that many finished fics, even counting the old stuff. I suppose the FF7 one-shot of Hojo's reasons for why he leaves Vincent alive in a coffin technically qualifies.

But I have a few original stories that are in the process of putting a great many characters through hell, with bittersweet endings planned.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Happy? I mean, I intend to leave Hunter and Willow in a better place at the end of Shadow's Reach, but they'll naturally have some unresolved things based on the timeline relative to the show. Don't be surprised if it's bittersweet.

I have a one-shot draft that should end happier. Hoping to finish that up after I wrap up Shadow's Reach.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't yet. I'm assuming most AO3 readers are using the tags to screen out content they don't like. Hopefully this means I've tagged my fic accurately. Anyone is welcome to ask me to update the tags if there's a relevant category I've missed.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

If the story calls for a sex scene, I'll write one. I'm not really a fan of sex for sex's sake (I fall on the ace spectrum in that very gray area that's not usually worth getting into the nuance of). If sex is in a story, I want it to accomplish more that just being titillating or whatever. (No shame if that's what you like - pretty sure the internet has plenty to offer you.) Sometimes all it needs to accomplish is being funny or pointing out the hypocrisy of a social norm. I also prefer sex scenes to be earned. You've sat with the characters a long time in other contexts, know who they are, and understand why they've gotten themselves into an intimate situation.

If I'm going to bother to write a sex scene, I want it to reflect on the culture of a society, character motivations, or themes of the story. I usually save those for original works. I'm also not shy about characters talking about sex if it is relevant to the story. Quite frankly, I wish more people would have open conversations about their expectations before jumping into it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I haven't really, but I play around with AU drawings on occasion.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also not that I know of. You're welcome to, just please let me know about it!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've co-written an original story (still in progress) with my spouse. It started out as a video game script while we were dating! :D We're such big nerds.

I think it'd be fun to co-write for TOH, but I know my real life obligations make it difficult to commit to a writing partnership at this time. I'm slow enough with writing Shadow's Reach!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I'm having a lot of fun with Willow and Hunter currently, but I'm also terribly fond of Eda and Raine.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I had this absurdly epic FF7 fic planned that was going to do so much world-building in the aftermath of meteor. It had a very dark Aeris resurrection plot: the Planet needed a living Ancient to defend against the parasitic creatures that came in Meteor's wake, and Aeris's body was the only one in a salvageable state. (My logic: a sentient Planet that can make Godzilla-style creatures like the Weapons could surely patch Aeris back together in a pinch, especially if the lake where her body was placed in the City of the Ancients was no ordinary lake.) But from Aeris's perspective, this isn't a good deal. The Lifestream is an Ancient's version of afterlife paradise, so Aeris was ripped away from perfect happiness to save the world, again. She's not exactly pleased about this, and initially intends to finish her task as soon as possible to get back to said paradise.

But the fic starts off with him (Vincent - he doesn't even use his own name in his head because that would be too humanizing for a monster like him), carrying a similar theme of death. After two years of living a 'normal' life, he's convinced he's found the closest thing to happiness someone like him is capable of, and would rather end things on a good note than face the painful loneliness of immortality. He's already felt his world die once when he was sealed away for 30 years in a coffin and had to adjust to a world so different from what he remembered. He doesn't want to experience that pain again. He also recognizes that his unnatural life can only come to an unnatural end. Old age won't kill him. Illness won't kill him. Death can only come by his hand or by someone else's (be it intentional or accidental). He wants to choose his own ending. And so he decides to take one last journey, through the City of the Ancients to pay his respects to the last Ancient, north through Icicle Inn to pay his respects to Professor Gast, and finally to the Crater, where he can go out fighting the fiercest monsters that still roam the planet. His affairs are in order, with letters staged to go out on a future date that will be too late for any of his well-meaning friends to stop him.

But... his plan gets derailed in the City of the Ancients, when he finds Aeris half-drowned, coughing and gasping at the water's edge. He's shocked and races to help her, placing his dry cape around her and encouraging her to breathe in that stilted, cold instructional voice he defaults to when he's too numb to process anything emotionally. Logically, he knows Aeris's return means something world-endingly serious is happening, and he's the worst person for this responsibility to fall on. And when Aeris is finally able to catch her breath and take in her surroundings, she looks up at him with confusion and disbelief, her voice mournfully disappointed as she asks, "...Vincent?" Aeris was clearly expecting someone else.

It's the first time his name is spoken. It's the first time the reader even sees his name.

"Vincent..."

Disappointment.

Of course she wishes he was someone else. He would gladly trade himself away to give her someone better. But he's the first person to visit her grave that Aeris knew in life. Perhaps that was as close to human logic as the Planet could get. It was too risky to bring her back with no protection. Vincent could do that much, couldn't he? He'd defend her until she could be reunited with her real friends.

There was a shameless slow-burn romance between Aeris and Vincent (which I fully acknowledge could never have worked in-game. Only a resurrection plot had a chance in hell of making sense out of a ship like this. Aeris was dead. Dead! Mr. Slept-in-a-Coffin-for-Thirty-Years is so fucking curious about it. And Ms. Cheery-Emotional-Support-for-Everyone is finding it very hard to be the 'old-self' that everyone expects and is so grateful to have alive again! Yay upbeat happy Aeris! You're still happy, right? Right? ...but Vincent doesn't mind the quiet sadness. Vincent doesn't demand the act. He knows what it is to be changed by something so profoundly you can never be your old self.)

There was also a nod to a friend of mine that was very encouraging of my writing, who sadly died while I was drafting the first few chapters of the fic. I had planned to go through the unnerving religious consequences of Aeris's name and likeness having being released to the public as the only identified person in the group of heroes who saved the planet, that then comes back to life. Jesus H. Christ.

I also had a pretty solid transformation sequence written for Vincent turning into Galian Beast that still holds up well every time I stumble upon the fic file. I enjoyed writing from the perspective of a different intelligence.

There were so many weird little FF7 game details that I knew how to tie together, consequences of the Jenova experiments that I wanted to explore, and oh... the revelation that this planet wasn't the first one the Ancients had settled...

But then the horrible sequel content to FF7 came out, and it was so disappointing to see the game studio have so little respect for the original game's story (an absurd number of contradictions and undermining plot lines were introduced) that I just couldn't bring myself to keep going. And the online friend who I knew would love to see it posted despite the crappy sequels was dead, so... yeah.

I still like the story concepts, but I doubt I'll get back to it. If I'm going to write for an audience that doesn't exist (especially now that a FF7 remake is ongoing), I might as well be working on my original stories.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good at writing from different character's perspectives and making it feel like you're in their heads.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? 

I am entirely self-indulgent with fanfics and don't edit-out/cut-down on all the little side things I want to explore but aren't really needed to drive the story forward.

I'm also shit at spelling and if spellcheck doesn't catch it, there's a good chance a homophone or letter-transposition or omission typo will make it in. You're welcome to DM me with a polite correction request if you notice a typo in my fics. Chapter and sentence where the typo occurred will help me correct it faster :)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It can make a lot of sense in certain contexts. Ideally it works best if you're fluent in the other language you're writing for. If you're not, try to do a little more research than just Google translate. (Having a fluent friend is great, but not always possible.) For Spanish, slang in Mexico is different than slang in the Dominican Republic. Just like British English is different than USA English. Check out country-specific websites and common phrase lists rather than trusting Google Translator alone.

I know some people advise to just stay clear of another language if you're not fluent to avoid unintentional insults, but then you miss an opportunity to research and learn about other cultures. Even a correction can be a great learning opportunity. Did I write Camila using a phrase you'd only hear in Mexico, not in the DR? If so, I would love to hear from you about how you'd say it in the DR! Tell me more about the cultural contexts of the language! The food! Day-to-day life in different parts of the country! Hearing from the actual people who live (or have lived) in a given country is so much better than the secondhand info (or mislabeled info) you sometimes have to sift through on the internet. Especially from English websites that may be directly or indirectly catering to tourism.

Really, it's up to you what you're comfortable with writing and taking risks on. I would encourage those who leave critiques or are inclined to be insulted to first consider if you've encountered ignorance rather than ill-intent. Sometimes you've stumbled across a teenager's fic or an otherwise resource-constrained person's and they're just not in a position to have researched something completely, but oh do they love that one cool character from another country and are interested in the language! Do you want to shut down that interest? Or would it be better to gently correct them and point them to a better source of information? Well-meaning authors will thank you for your help!

Sometimes you do run across a jerk who truly thinks things like "all Spanish is the same" or "why should I try to depict your culture accurately?" and they just won't budge. It sucks when that happens, but I hope we can collectively agree to not let bad actors ruin the fun of learning about different cultures and languages. As a product of the USA public education system, that doesn't expose you to a second language until high-school, I absolutely have deficits in other languages. And I know it makes my research imperfect because I am ill-equipped to spot issues. I still want Camila to speak at least a little Spanish, darn it! She's such a pleasure to listen to in The Owl House.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Spider-man! The original comics Spider-man. Like Amazing Fantasy #15 and Peter's first girlfriend Betty Brant time-frame. It was in a lined page notebook with pencil, elementary school level dialog (because I was a kid), and spelling errors everywhere (that hasn't changed). I have no idea where that notebook is now. But of course I wrote about the fallout of his secret identity getting out. Angst, man. I started with angst and I never stopped.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? 

Fanfic: Shadow's Reach, because I'm gonna finish it, damn it! ("Oh, it'll be a couple months diversion," I told myself. "Maybe I'll hit 100K, maybe not. That's okay!" yeah right. "10-15 chapters tops. Surely I don't have that much to say about Huntlow." Ha... ha ha ha...) But seriously, I know I have at least 3 devoted readers that are sticking with it so I'll keep posting!

Original: It's a tie between 2 unpublished things. They are my beloveds and they are not ready for internet sharing just yet.

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @marimbles! ♥️ No pressure tags: @litfeathers @lollytea @ashanimus @greyhavenisback @princecharmingwinks @tails89 @nutellarghh @ash-mcj @childlikegoblinqueen @daydreams-and-honeybees @avatarmerida @asarcasticwitch @sailahina @secretly-of-course @sapphic--kiwi @haystarlight @zyrafowe-sny @peachytea04 @slightecho

1. How many works do you have on AO3? just hit 100 last month!

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 479,814

3. What fandoms do you write for? I've dabbled in quite a few over the years, but the ones I've written the most fics for are doctor who (eleven/amy) teen wolf (sterek) and the owl house (huntlow)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Error 404: Brain Cell Not Found (teen wolf | sterek) You Always Want What You're Running From (sleepy hollow | ichabbie) What To Do When Your Emotionally Constipated Werewolf Boyfriend Gets Cursed By A Witch: A Guide (teen wolf | sterek) Gold Rush (the owl house | huntlow) Lovesick (the owl house | huntlow) 5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do! Every kind comment means so much to me, so I always take the time to respond to all of them (though I'm not always great at getting to them on time.)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm probably The Courtesan and the Writer (doctor who | eleven/amy) I used to dabble in angst a bit more when I first started writing fic, but these days all my fics are pretty much guaranteed to have a happy ending, because real life is hard enough lol

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Pretty much all my fics have happy endings, but one of the happiest I wrote would probably be my huntlow college AU Until You Meet Someone Who Makes The Fall Feel Like Flying

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I wouldn't call it outright hate, but I have gotten a handful of rude comments over the years (complaining that I don't post often enough, telling me my headcanons are wrong, telling me how they think my story should have ended — one time someone yelled at me in all caps because I said that a character chilled red wine lol that one was wild)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! Smut is fun. Mine is typically more focused on the emotional aspect than the physical, is usually the result of a long tension-fueled slow burn buildup, and is usually tooth-rottingly fluffy, soft, and sweet.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have! Back in the days where superwholock plagued tumblr, I wrote one of the silliest cross-overs imaginable, combining doctor who, torchwood, bbc sherlock, supernatural, the avengers, and sleepy hollow: Lords, Gods, and Madmen

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yup 🙃

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have! But most of them never saw the light of day 😂 one that did is called An Eggcellent Morning For Cooking Lessons co-written with @ash-mcj @tails89 and @nutellarghh

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I think my top three ships are reflected in who I've written the most fic for: huntlow, sterek, and the eleventh doctor/amy pond

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Luckily, everything that's posted to AO3 is finished, but at this point I'm thinking I'll probably never get around to writing the little nightmares, reylo, and captain swan WIPs I've had sitting in my drafts since 2019

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've been told I capture the characters really well, which means a lot to me. I've also been told that my writing is cozy and comforting and fills people with warm fuzzy feelings, which is always nice to hear 🥰

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I will sit there and agonize over the same paragraph trying to make it sound perfect instead of just letting the writing flow, so sometimes a fic will be in the works for a very long time until it's finally ready to be posted (by which time I'm probably sick of it and never want to look at it again 😂)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've dabbled in this a little bit, but it's usually been plot-relevant, like a character learning to speak the language (i.e. when Hunter tried to learn Spanish in Being Human.) When I do write in another language, I always do my best to research and try to get the translations as accurate as possible, and I always include the English translation either in the fic itself or as an author's note so readers don't have to break away from my fic to google anything. (And also so that they know what my intention was, on the off-chance I translated something wrong and accidentally wrote something offensive.) 19. First fandom you wrote for?

Does anyone remember that vampire show that came out back in like 2009? Moonlight? Yeah, that one lol

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? God, that's like asking me to pick my favorite child. Okay fine, it's Until You Meet Someone Who Makes The Fall Feel Like Flying

[happilychaengs]

how twice would break your heart

a/n: i'm kind of going through it rn and this was just sitting in my drafts. this might be my last post for a while. i know it's quite short and there should be more but i don't think i'm in the right headspace to finish this nor do i have the heart to so i'll just publish it instead. and if some seem similar to one other, i'm sorry. i'll add pictures maybe later

angst

headcanon

nayeon

- "we should break up."

- cuts it off clean

- whatever she's feeling: trapped, unhappy, unsatisfied, scared, whatever it is -- she will not hesitate to tell you

- but it's the way the words fly out of her mouth that it's almost as if she didn't care about you

- your relationship at that very moment felt like it was a facade.

- but it's only because it's the way she wants to portray herself that way in front of you

- if only she'd let you really knew how much it hurt her to break things off with you

- it's the way the world would shift without you in it

- it's the way the stars wouldn't mean the same without you by her side

- if you knew how she truly felt, you'd fight harder for her to stay and she knows she would too

jeongyeon

- "i'm sorry."

- it's honest. it's cold. and it hurts.

- there's no other way she can really tell you. it's who she was. she couldn't ease the pain with sugar coated words or actions. she wouldn't.

- but it's the way tears stream down her face that shatters your heart, even more so than her words do.

- you don't know why she does it. you don't know why she's breaking your heart. she doesn't tell you.

- all that's left is in it's wake is nothing but a stream of repeated apologies from her, begging, regret, and doors slammed in front of each other's faces.

momo

- "i don't... know how to tell you this."

- it's always been difficult for momo to express her feelings but this time, it's really never been harder.

- she almost choked on her own words as she sees your face and your eyes, full of uncertainty.

- the moment the words escape from her lips, she already knew how much it would hurt.

- there you stood in front of her: fists clenched, cheeks flushed in red, your eyes pooling with tears

- her hand instinctively goes to wipe them away, but she catches herself. she can't anymore. she shouldn't.

- you see the way conflict internalizes in herself, your heart already knowing it's not hers anymore.

- she refuses to have your heart anymore and that's what hurts the both of you the most.

sana

- "it's not you, it's me."

- sana's words are cold and calculated. almost planned in a way.

- there's no rhyme or reason as to why she did it. it makes you doubt whether what you two has was real but she remains stone-faced, quietly asking you to leave.

- it's the way she tells you it. the cold heartedness.

- there's words that are said that can never be taken back. doors that shut tight.

- but it's the cries that she can hear outside her house now, that does it in for her.

- emotions begin to clog up her throat as she truly breaks down, nothing but regret filling her body.

jihyo

- "i think... we were the right people but not at the right time."

- hopeful yet laced with dread

- jihyo was a passion driven women and it was the height of her career.

- you should've expected it, really. the way she sat you down, hands kept to herself.

- it's the absence of her touch that really that does it for you. normally it's quite the opposite, the two of you never really getting enough of each other.

- you want what's best for her. really, you do. but that doesn't mean you could just let her go.

- jihyo questions her decision nonstop in the face of your tears, but the words were already said. the tears have already been shed.

- when she's finally and truly alone, the apartment you two once shared is void of noise.

- and she's just not sure anymore if this would be worth it without you.

mina

- "you deserve better."

- it's quiet and tired

- the thought of talking with you has obviously been relenting at mina for a long time.

- you're so surprised she actually believes you two should break up because you know that she's the one for you.

- but she doesn't.

- even through all your tears, you can see how it haunts her.

- being with you because she's always believing that there may be someone new, someone better for you.

- and that's what hurts you the most as she walks out the door, leaving you alone for the last time.

dahyun

- "we need to talk."

- it's pulled back, all the emotions barely there

- she has never felt happier but she knows she's never been the best for you

- she can barely express how she loves you let alone say it

- and she knows you'll find someone who can

- it'll just take time

- time better off spent without her

- even if she knows it might be the wrong way to do it, proven by your tears as she walked out on you, it's the only way she knows how to do it

- and that's why she can't let you stay in her heart any longer

chaeyoung

- "we both deserve to be happy."

- it's plain and simple. but it's what she truly believes.

- she's the happiest when she's with you. she's at her best.

- but she knows you aren't. it's dismal without her for such long periods of time and she knows it's hard on you.

- she loves you too much to be the one holding you down and she refuses to have it any other way.

- with a heavy heart, she walks out on you with tears in her eyes even through all your cries. even through all your pleads for her to stay.

- she's so so sorry but she truly believes you'll find someone better.

- she's just not sure if she could do the same.

tzuyu

"i think we're better off alone."

- struggles to truly get it across.

- it's so overwhelmingly difficult for her to tell you because she loves you.

- so much more than you'll ever know.

- she doesn't want to leave you but she feels like she needs to.

- it's the fear of uncertainty that gets to her.

- it's the constant worry of you wanting to leave her that she makes the stupid decision of doing it first.

- it's the way tears dribble down your face as you watch her leave that makes everything come crashing down

[rayofsunas]

s/o has a mental/nervous breakdown.

A/n: hello everyone! I hope your day is going alright, and that you’re doing well 🥰 I recently hit 300+ folllwers, like Sunday morning, and omg, that was the best thing to wake up too 🥺❤️ thank you those new and old for following and taking a chance with my account and sometimes trashy works 🙃 I’m gonna make a longer post at some point saying my thanks and discuss what I plan to do to celebrate 300 followers. It would really mean a lot to me if you guys chimed in if you have any ideas, after all, this is a thanks to you and I want you all to be involved! also, if you saw my recent rambles about how a draft was deleted, it’s referring to this post... what I had written got deleted TWICE in the span of FIVE MINUTES. gosh I was so pissed, I almost screamed. mobile tumblr is not it 😔 but here we are. I hope you like this. I tried to write this three times.... 🤡 also, since I am not a doctor or anything, I put a link to possible symptoms/what a “mental breakdown” is, that’s in the warnings, just click the link, it helped with my accuracy. 

Summary: s/o has a mental/nervous breakdown.

Parings: Xiao/Reader, Scaramouche/Reader, Albedo/Reader, Childe/Reader (all fem reader)

Warnings: angst, mental breakdown (panic attacks, stress, anxiety, ptsd, hallucinations, insomnia) fluff, swearing, mentions of death, mentions of injury

Word count: 3.5k (whew after tumblr DELETING this draft twice here we are folks ;-;)

requested by @mintyhuening​ 

​

Xiao

he knew you weren’t okay at all

Xiao knew the moment you locked yourself in your house

at first he thought maybe you were just temporarily feeling this way, but as the weeks passed and you hadn’t come out, he decided maybe not

coming from someone who enjoyed silence and solitude he could understand the distancing part, but it had been weeks, and even he needed socialization, so why hadn’t you come out?

you spoke to him through the door a few times, letting him know you were alright

he didn’t believe that though, sure you were alive, but not alright, he was mainly checking for confirmation to see if you were still alive while he thought of a good way to approach the situation

he didn’t want to invade your privacy, but he also hated the fact that you wouldn’t come out, not even to see him

it was lonely without you, he concluded

even for someone who enjoy solitude 

you were a careful creature, but never this careful and cautious...

were humans always like this?

eventually, he couldn’t stand it, and did find other ways to get into your house

he grew antsy after pacing outside your door for days

he found you huddled in your bed, a heap of pillows and blankets surrounding you

you were shocked to see him when he’d sat down on the foot of the bed, causing it to dip significantly 

“How did you get in?” You snapped once you saw who it was. 

“I have my ways.” He said raspily. With a huff of annoyance, you were back to facing the wall, away from the Adepti. 

“It’s dark in here.” He announced matter a factly, looking around the nearly pitch-black room, windows and doors covered by sheets and hefty duty curtains. “It’s how I like it.”

“It’s not healthy.”

“I don’t care, go away.”

Xiao was starting to grow impatient surprisingly, he truly just wanted to help, why couldn't you see that?

“Being passive is not going to help the situation, please tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing, I’m just tired.”

He worried. If he said the wrong, would you push him away even further? If he said the right thing, would you even care? Did you want help?

Xiao moved closer to you, hand going to touch your leg, although it was underneath the blankets, you felt it and did have to admit the affection was comforting.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Xiao said. “Your friends miss you, I miss you as well.”

Maybe if you weren’t cooped up here anymore, you would start to come around. The room and house all together were very stuffy, dark, and depressing, he despised it.

“It’s beautiful outside, come with me,” he'd whispered. “At least if you don’t want to be around people, could you allow me to take you to a secluded area?”

“The fresh air will do you good.”

You were thinking about it, you had to of been if you still cared. 

“Fine, mother.” He watched with hope in his eyes as you slowly rose from the bed, and began

The outside world was very very bright at first, enough to induce a headache. But you became used to it the more you were out.

Xiao stayed true to his word like you knew he would unless you wouldn’t have come. You were taken to a very secluded area, there wasn’t even a path or road to it, just green luscious grass, and crystal core everywhere, beautiful blue and orange ones; Anemo and Geo respectively. You weren’t sure where you were, somewhere between Mondstadt and Liyue, you assumed. 

The fresh air did wonders, Xiao had noticed. You seemed to open up. Telling him a little of the problem. You had told him about how life was just stressful right now, you hadn’t taken any commissions in weeks, spoken to any of your friends Mondstadt, hence why they had come to him, accusing him of kidnapping and brainwashing you. He was offended, nonetheless let them know that wasn’t the case. 

The ever so secluded Xiao would take you out more, slowly introducing you to crowds of people, and would still take you on daily walks to that secret place you now called your special spot.

It would take a while, he knew that, and you wouldn’t be comfortable doing everything that others around you did, maybe not for a while. He could respect that, as long as you allowed him to help and encourage you.

Scaramouche

being a harbinger was HARD, Scaramouche knew that, even if he didn’t admit it

admitting it was challenging, could lead to always being doubted or seen as incompetent. therefore, no one mentions how hard it is

he had been off doing his duties when he got news that you had lashed out at a few lower rank fatui on your team, resulting in you being called in to meet with The Tsaritsa... let's just say she went easy on you because you were one of her highest ranking soldiers, if not, she would've severely punished you

you were forced back to your sleeping quarters immediately to calm down, told to stay put until you could stop “lashing out like a child” as she had put it

you weren’t one to argue against The Tsaritsa, everyone knew that was common rule... so you walked back as calmly as you could without snapping at anyone else

when Scaramouche had heard how you acted, he was annoyed

the always so calm and calculated Y/n, lashing out at her fellow members? he couldn’t help but be annoyed, despite it being completely out of character of you

he had finished his duties relatively quick, wondering why you were acting so out of character 

when he got back, he found you in your sleeping quarters, pacing in front of the large windows near the furthest end of your room

you were still wearing your typical combat gear, though your hair disheveled and body language looking extremely anxious, he hoped it was not yours...

“What did you do this time?” Had asked the violet-eyed man, carelessly throwing his hat on your bed, lean arms folding across his chest.

No response. 

“Excuse me, I believe I asked you a question.”

A loud irritable huff.

“Be quiet for once in your life, Scaramouche.” You hissed, anxiously biting at your nails. “Sorry- I’m just trying to calm down, but my heart can’t stop racing.”

Scaramouche wasn’t the most in-touch person with his feelings, and out of all the harbingers, he was one of the more difficult ones to deal with.

Surprisingly, he had shut up, despite finding it difficult to hold his malicious comment back.  

“What’s wrong?” Your lover asked, more softly this time. 

“My mission today was... hard. I know you said it’s important for missions to just be a one and done; no hard feelings. And you know I’ve always been that way. But this one was different.” His eyebrows furrowed, his forehead creasing in annoyance. 

“I can’t help but think about what they did.” 

“Did you get what you went for? I heard you sought after information regarding that Knight, Aether.”

“Yes, but-”

“I’d call that a successful mission,” He stared intensely, casually moving to sit on the comfort of your bed. Of course, he wouldn’t take this seriously. “Any casualties?”

“None of our men, but-”

“I don’t see the problem.”

“There were children, three little children, and those idiots just slaughtered them.”

“Ah... I see.”

Despite stating he understood, he really couldn’t sympathize with what you were saying. Those children were enemies as long as they worked against The Tsaritsa. 

Your voice suddenly cut through the silence, staring directly into his eyes, “What if those were our children?”

“They weren’t.” Your eyes rolled at his comment. 

“But what if!” He rolled his eyes, mocking your previous action. 

“But they weren’t.” He mocked for a second time.  

“You’re not helping, Scaramouche!”

“You’ll never understand, unless you see what I saw,” He knew you were right to some degree, but even then would he feel bad? A mission was a mission after all.

“They were begging me to protect them, and the youngest, she would not let go of my arm and then the next thing I knew, they were dead.” You continued, left hand going to grip your right, he assumed to show him where and how the said girl had gripped you. You were still shaking, this time being closer, he noticed how bad it was. 

“They were pleading, I told them I would try my best, and then-” He had long ago stood, making himself present in front of you. His warm hands had grabbed your shaking ones harshly, ceasing the trembling momentarily. 

“Please, be quiet,” The sixth harbinger snipped. “I don’t like seeing you upset.” Although it sounded harsh, he was trying his best to make it sound how he felt, even if those feelings were minuscule towards this specific topic. 

“Although, I don’t agree with you about this particular concern of yours- I will do whatever you need to help you.”

Albedo

now, he may just be an alchemist, but trust me, Albedo sees the signs before anyone, he has some sort of familiarity with them due to his incessant reading

and it may have taken him longer to see the signs because of how busy he was, but he saw them

he was no fool to the likes of insomnia, in fact he knew it very well, often staying up very late into the night and morning, sometimes for days at a time

he was cooped up in his lab and it wasn’t as if his body wasn’t tired, cause hell he was, there was just s much more to learn and discover, his brain WOULD not stop, 

Albedo hadn’t known how long this had been going on for, but he was seeing signs now

ngl, he didn’t notice that you hadn’t been sleeping properly until one night he decided to accompany you in bed earlier than usual (It was three a.m, yikes), and found that you were awake still

you were lying still on your side of the bed, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that he reached over to kiss your cheek, only to see your eyes open, he would’ve assumed you were alright and asleep

“You’re awake?” The ashy-blonde man asked, sliding into bed next to you. 

“Can’t sleep.” You shrugged nonchalantly, scooting closer to him, seeking his warmth and comfort. 

“You should’ve come to get me, I would’ve come to bed earlier with you.”

“It’s alright, I peeked in to see if you were still alive,” You joked, he chuckled. “You seemed very busy.”

“Yes, but, I thought I told you to remind me when you need attention, I often get sidetracked and enamored with my work.”

“It’s quite alright, Albedo. As long as you’re sleeping.”

He hummed, whispering tired words of adoration in your ear. That carried on for a while, as long as talking about the day's work and whatnot, until you eventually questioned, “Can I play with your hair?” The gesture was sweet, and that did sound amazing right about now since he was on the brink of sleep, but just needed that little push. But weren’t you tired?

“Aren’t you tired?”

You sat up, climbing behind Albedo, gently placing his head in your lap. “I’ll go after you.” A soft smile adorned your beautiful face. “You need sleep, you stay up for Archon knows how long.”

He selfishly allowed his eyes to close and waited for sleep to accompany him while you began untangling his two braids and ponytail. You played with and braided his hair until he’d fallen asleep as you said. You stayed up the rest of the morning though.

Eventually, probably out of boredom, you fell asleep for an hour or two around five a.m. Though, unfortunately, you were back up before six. You busied yourself while Albedo slept, starting with cleaning his lab. Albedo often did not like people touching his books, paperwork, and findings, but after instructing you how to properly take care of his stuff, he welcomed your help with open arms, seeing as though his lab was ALWAYS in shambles from not having enough time to take care of things himself.

Albedo surprisingly woke up around nine, wavy hair surrounding him like a lion, you chuckled to yourself at the sight. “How did you sleep?”

“Alright, considering my sleep schedule is nonexistent a lot of the time.” You nodded, bumping shoulders teasingly. “How about you?” 

“Okay,” You said, immediately changing the subject. “I woke up early, so I cleaned your lab, I hope it’s to your likings, Kreideprinz.” You teased, bowing at the waist.

The alchemist waved you off, with a smile. “We’ll see about your organizational skills after you eat.” 

How had he known?

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” Albedo asked, heading in the direction of the kitchen.

“That obvious.” You wondered trailing after him. 

“You always wait for me, darling.”

- 

“You look exhausted.” Albedo’s concerned voice cut in through the smooth Mondstadt breeze. You had been so distracted with the discovery in front of you, you hadn’t realized your boyfriend was staring directly at you. “When was the last time you slept?” He glanced back down at the discovery, still listening, but if you didn’t speak soon he’d be lost in his world again.

“A day or two, but-” Albedo probably got whiplash from how hard he’d snapped his head to face you, but now he was staring at you with features reading nothing but shock, cerulean eyes blown wide.

“I think your bad sleeping schedule is contagious.” You joked, trying to make the situation lighter-hearted. He didn’t laugh. 

Albedo was more serious this time, proving it when he faced you completely. “What’s been going on?” His voice was soft, but he was extremely worried. 

Nervousness built up in his lover's body. “Nothing! I just-” You sighed. Might as well tell him the truth, he’d coerce the answer from you no matter what it took. “It’s been harder to sleep after my injury from that ruin guard. When it hit me, I banged my head against the concrete, and ever since I guess it’s been hard to sleep.” 

“You could've told me sooner. I would have stopped everything and anything for you.” Yes, that was true, that was the problem though. You didn’t want to be coddled like a baby

“I know, I’m not sure why I didn’t... Naturally, I don’t want to worry you.”

He moved closer to you so he could cradle your face in his hands. “You can always tell me anything you know that.”

“I understand that. You’re a busy man so-”

“From this moment on, my work will be dedicated to finding a cure for you.”

You panicked, not wanting to stop his work for the likes of what you were dealing with. “What? Wait no-”

“You can’t stop me, darling. You take precedence over everything.”

Albedo made it his goal to do whatever possible to help you. Whether it be spending days in his lab making concoctions in hopes of creating something that could safely aid you with sleep. Or he’s in the libraries, reading all the books on the wellness and health of humans. He’s already on top of it the minute you expressed your concerns. In the meantime, he’s going to make sure he goes to bed with you much earlier, and won’t go until you do, to ensure you’re resting.

We love sweet caretaker Albedo.

(I understand insomnia can have other causes, not just a mental or nervous breakdown, but it’s kind of implied when reader hurt her head that she’s not well.)

Childe

Childe is simply not going to know your not well, he just won’t, it’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s more so the fact that he has a hard time paying attention to anything other than his missions and duties, he does not want to slow down

you have to show signs or tell him to realize

he decided to take a break though, seeing as he did promise you dinner tonight. he told you it would be his treat, since he did have a bunch of Mora lying around that he simply had no other use for

he figured a nice dinner and trip to one of the nicer cities with more to offer would be nice, he would buy you anything you desired

it was nearing the time for dinner though, and the reservations had already been made, so when he was left waiting, let's just say he was irked...

if you didn’t want to show up, you would’ve told him, so maybe you forgot? he concluded that couldn’t be it

the last time he’d brought it up, two days ago, you had been so excited you couldn’t sit still nor stop talking about it

asking a few people around town if you had been spotted anywhere, some said you had wandered off to Luhua Pool, something about there being a myth about special healing properties within the water

now he was even more confused

one, you NEVER went to Luhua Pool, there was never a need to do so

two, special healing properties? why would you need that? were you hurt in his absence?

you were his family, and he loved his family more than anything, so if something was wrong, he’d do whatever it took to help you

he traveled from Snezhnaya to Luhua Pool in record speed

he did find you eventually, the sun was setting, but thanks to the glowing water he could make your form out easily

you were hunched over, in what looked like to be some simple greenish cloth dress, he couldn’t see what you were doing, and called out your name

no answer

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” The orange-haired teen asked, crouching down beside his lover to see what was wrong.

“Cleaning.” You had said. That’s when his dull blue eyes traveled to what you were doing, watching with a confused stare as you scrubbed at what seemed to be clean hands.

“Hmm, I see...” He couldn’t tell if this was a prank or not, you usually played along with his teasing nature. “Are you ready for dinner?”

“Was that really today?” Your head lifted, leaving your hands to momentarily hanging in the air, water droplets dripping off into the pool.

Okay... so you did forget it seemed, which did shock him seeing as though you were over the moon, less than seventy-two hours ago.

“Uh, yeah, did you really forget? That’s unlike you! I’ve learned women don’t forget anything.” He teased, hand going to his chin. You hummed, turning back to do whatever it was you had been previously.

The harbinger frowned. “Do you still want to go? We can make it if we’re fast.” You sounded like a robot, much like a ruin guard, he concluded. 

“I’m sorry, not today, I’m dirty...”

Childe couldn’t help but chuckle, “Dirty? Sweetheart, you’re cleaner than most people I’ve seen, what’re you on about-” 

“The blood, it’s stained my hands, can’t you see?” Even after holding your hands to show him, he saw nothing resembling blood. 

“Are you playing games with me? Sure, it would’ve been funny any other day, not today though-” 

“You don’t believe me?” You sounded hurt, but whatever was going on, he wouldn’t feed into these... false hallucinations. “The townspeople said the same thing, they called me crazy...” You scrubbed even harder at your hands, letting out a frustrated huff. 

“I don’t see anything, I’m really sorry,” He said gently, reaching into the water to grasp your warm hands in his, “But if you continue to do that...I will see the blood.”

Childe was not sure what was going on, maybe some sort of PTSD? Although, he wasn’t sure where it could’ve come from... you’re not a harbinger or fatui, or anyone that is engaged in battle, etc. so it didn’t make sense. Unless something happened that decided to resurface now. 

He immediately took you home, hand in his to keep you from further scratching your hands. On the journey, you often asked, “Why are you even touching me? There’s a lot of blood.” 

He didn’t want to have to feed into whatever was going on, worried he’d damage you somehow, and he didn’t want to make you sound crazy, so instead he said, “Because I love you.”

When you both arrived home, he’d immediately laid you in bed, saying you appeared tired before going to search for a doctor.

Child will see every and all doctors in Teyvat and will pay whatever amount necessary to figure out what’s wrong, that’s for sure. Doesn’t take orders from the harbingers (not like he was anyways) and opts to stay close to you at all times. 

He decided to keep his teasing to a minimum, though he found that sometimes things slipped out accidentally, he’d do anything in his power to help you.

1.18.21, rayofsunas 

[oddaodd]

· Delightful Misty Dream ·

Summary: Tommy joins the reader in the bathtub after a stressful day. 

Author’s note: This had been in my drafts for a while and today i just felt like finally finishing it so yay for me! I hope you like it and have the loveliest of days ❤️

Warnings: Smut.

·

She became aware of her tongue pressing against the roof of her mouth as she removed her makeup late one Friday evening. Just a tiny hint of the day’s toll on her. She was so tired and glad the day was over and all she wanted was a warm bath.

She began prepping her bathtub and once the water was at just the perfect temperature she stepped in and let the warm water submerge her. As she laid there in her tiny paradise, memories of the day behind her flooded her mind.

It had been a difficult day, an annoying one. A day in which nothing had gone according to plan. Since Tommy got complaints of some nuns beating children at one of the orphanages he funded, Y/n volunteered to go and make sure things changed. After having sacked some nuns who wouldn’t depart with their old ways, Y/n was left with a staff of about ten nuns who gave her the side eye. Then she had to sit through and excruciating breakfast with a pompous aristocrat, who very subtly but constantly threw nasty innuendos at her relationship with Thomas Shelby. Y/n sat there with a polite smile tolerating all his bullshit just so he could sign the check he had promised to the Grace Shelby Institute.

A soft knock brought her back to her bathtub.

Her husband entered the misty bathroom and began getting rid of his clothes. Her eyes following his every move.

“Mind if I join you? “He asked as he tossed away his shirt.

Y/n shook her head no with a smile and moved away from the edge of the tub as he discarded his trousers and underwear before finally stepping into the bathtub behind her.

“Bad day?” He asked

“Those fucking nuns make me want to commit murder” Y/n sighed closing her eyes leaning back on Tommy’s warm chest as his arms snaked around her waist and stopped right under her breasts clasping his hands together. 

Tommy rested his head on her wet shoulder. She felt his breathing tickle on her clavicles and felt the tension starting to evaporate from her body.

“Im so glad you’re here now” she said softly

Tommy hummed and pressed a kiss to her shoulder “I’m glad I’m here now” a kiss to her neck. His hands started traveling down her slippery skin to her hips, one stayed there and the other one traveled to her inner thigh  teasing her with soft caresses. It wasn’t hard to figure where his mind was at.

She sighed in bliss when Tommy’s fingers finally wandered to where she wanted them the most, sending shivers along her legs. He planted another kiss to her neck and sucked softly on her skin. A tiny mark ,testament of his love appeared there a few moments later. 

She pressed herself closer to his body, almost wanting to completely sink into him as his experienced fingers began toying with her clit just the way she liked it. How she could get lost with his fingers. She felt his hard member pressing against her lower back making her insides squirm in expectation.

“Tommy...” she sighed, relishing at the feeling of his skin on hers.

“I bet you were thinking about this all day long, haven’t you?” He whispered dangerously low to her ear. “Have been thinking of me?”

“Yes” she admitted wantonly.

“You are so wet, love” he whispered as his index finger traveled through her folds. Her wetness evident despite the water surrounding them.

“Fuck me, please”She pleaded in a heartbeat with a lewd sigh.

“Come then” he complied.

In a swift movement she turned around and hovered over Tommy’s waist teasingly rubbing herself against his length. She enjoyed the feeling of anticipation and her desire increased a 100 times more. Tommy looked at her with an intensity like no other, a hint of tenderness hidden behind the desire in his blue eyes as she teased him.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Tommy guided her down his cock by the waist  and they both drew wanton breaths as he filled her. It was just what she needed. He gave her a few moments to adjust to his size before his hands prompted her to move.  

Eager to comply, She began bouncing on his cock and moaned loudly as Tommy’s mouth found her right breast. His tongue teasing her nipple before softly dragging his teeth against it.

Her fingers pulled at his hair and his grip on her waist became harsher. His mouth moved up to her neck before claiming her lips possessively his tongue wandering into  her mouth making Y/n speed up her pace.

The water of the tub began spilling out into the tiles at their passionate movements as their needy moans mingled with the mist in the room creating a lust filled atmosphere

Her grip went from Tommy’s hair to his shoulders giving her more support as her movements turned harsher. She felt her nails digging into his skin and looked at his face questioning if it was too much but all she could read from his it was that he didn’t want her to stop.

She felt her stress completely fade away as her climax approached at a steady pace and she could tell Tommy’s was just as close from the look on his face. Their breathings, pleas and praises became more urgent and shallow and after a few more thrusts the inevitable arrived. Something like electricity shot through her body and she rode her orgasm, Tommy’s eyes never leaving her contorting expression.He came inside her a few seconds later .

She fell limp against his chest and his arms automatically wrapped around her keeping her close as their breathings steadied some.

A sudden wave of emotion hit y/n as she laid there against her husband. She wouldn’t know what to name it,  but it was there, weighing down on her chest. Maybe it was just the day behind her or maybe it was just plain Old existential dread.

Whatever it was, it prompted her to pull away and cup his face so his eyes were on her. She wanted to keep feeling him, all of him.

“What?” Tommy asked as he looked into her tumultuous eyes.

She bit her lip “Tell me you love me”

She didn’t know what made her request this love declaration, but she knew she needed to hear it as much as she needed to breathe.

His mouth curved into a tender smirk at her request.

“I love you” he spoke honestly before leaning close to her and pressing his lips against hers. Y/n melted into his lips and sank into his warmth ready to put the day behind her. 

· 

@writeroutoftime @captivatedbycillianmurphy @nyotamalfoy @peakyxtommy

[captains-simp]

Jealous Jock ~ Part 4

(Not my gif)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

This is the final part for this series but I do have more jock!Carol fics in my drafts

Warnings: nightmares, mentions of a break up and some slight social anxiety

1.8k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"You're just too difficult to deal with." Carol snapped as she looked into your eyes with a cold expression. It was one you had never seen aimed at you. It almost broke your heart more than her words.

It was your worst fears come true, everything you had ever worried about. She didnt want you anymore, despite all her promises. She lied.

"Goodbye, y/n." She said with finality as she turned to leave.

"No! Please, I can fix this! I-I'll do anything just please, Carol!" You cried out in a desperation attempt to reach her but she was getting further and further away as you were rooted to the spot.

"Carol!"

"Y/n?" Came Carol's voice, except she sounded so close while you could see her so far away. It didn't make sense. It made you more confused and more scared.

"Y/n!!" She said again with urgency in her voice.

"Carol?" You stared blankly around you but you had lost sight of her.

"Y/n, wake up, please."

"What?" You questioned as you looked around frantically.

"Y/n, wake up."

You awoke with a start and instantly gasped out as you sat bolt upright in bed. There was an arm around your back and one on your arm, both holding on to you firmly as though you might run away.

"It's okay, it was just a dream. I'm here." Carol said. You froze and turned towards her slowly. It only took a brief glance at her messy hair and concerned look across her face for tears to spring to your eyes.

"Oh baby." Carol said softly and guided you towards her chest. You easily fell into her hold and gripped on to her shirt as you cried against her, all while she rubbed your back soothingly and whispered words of reassurance to you.

"It wasn't real, whatever it was it wasn't real." She continued as you trembled.

She guided you both to lay back down on the bed while you continued to hold on to her like a lifeline.

"Don't leave me." You sniffed when your tears died down. "Please don't leave me."

"I'm never going to leave you baby." She cooed softly to you and she put the pieces together. She rested her head ontop of yours as she ran her hand up and down your back still. "I love you."

You closed your eyes, feeling suddenly lighter at her words. "Promise?"

"Yeah, baby, I promise."

"I love you too." You whispered and Carol kissed the top of your head. You didn't want to go back to sleep. You were afraid of the dreams that awaited you but Carol's strong and nothing short of protective hold always helped you into a slumber at night.

"There's still a few hours till morning, baby. Some sleep will make you feel better." Carol assured as she kissed the top of your head lightly. You figited against Carol with a pout. "I'll still be here, I promise you. I can't go leaving my best girl." You practically melted at the enduring term and relaxed easily against the blonde.

"Okay." You whispered into the darkness.

"Okay." She whispered back.

*

You woke to a bright stream of sunlight pouring into the room and across the bed. You moved the shield your eyes and upon doing so noticed a very empty bed beside you.

Your eyes opened more as they adjusted to the brightness and your heart sank at the realisation that Carol wasn't laying next to you. Where was she? Why had she gone? Had she left you? Your panic rose at the thought and you were on the brink of tears again until the bedroom door swung open.

"Shit! Sorry! I didn't mean to slam it." Carol winced as she nudged the door shut as gently as she could with one foot. You frowned until you spotted the tray with plates and glasses on. You smiled as she started to saunter over to you with a sheepish grin and set the tray down besides you before crawling back into bed.

"How'd you sleep after?" Carol asked sweetly as she pushed the tray towards you encouragingly. On it was a plate piled with waffles with a range of sauces on the side that made your mouth water just to look at. Besides that was some napkins, a glass or water and your favourite juice.

"I slept good." You said honestly because you really had. There hadn't been any more nightmares and your sub dropping had faded away in your sleep. You felt...refreshed, good.

"Thank you." You said as you stared down at the tray in awe and moved it back to between you both, urging your girlfriend to take some with you. "So much." You couldn't contain your grin and apparently Carol couldn't either.

"Anything for my best girl." She winked.

You rolled your eyes with a grin and dug in the plate infront of you as Carol did, instantly loving the attack on your taste buds. The pair of you finished the sweet breakfast in no time with your spirit easily lifted. You made a mental note to prepare breakfast in bed for the blonde next time she slept round your house too.

"Did you sleep well?" You asked as you dabbed your mouth and set the tray aside on the nightstand.

"Good, I dreamt of you." Carol said simply with a smile before leaning forward to place a swift kiss on your lips. You smiled more and leaned forward to kiss her back, your heart swelling at her words.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She hummed and placed her hands on either side of you so she could kiss you more.

"What'd you dream about?" You asked playfully between kisses.

"That's a secret." She grinned and wrapped your arms around Carol's neck to deepen the kiss as you laid back.

"Oh really?" You fired back as you tasted the meal you had just shared on her lips. She hummed simply but pulled away shortly after.

"Are you okay?" She asked cautiously.

"I am, thank you." You said with a smile as you stared lovingly at her concerned gaze. She smiled back but still looked worried so you took ahold of her hand and guided it down your body.

"And this is okay too." Carol smiled and nodded quickly before bringing you into a soft kiss again.

"I love you." She said as she started to kiss down your neck.

"I love you too." You said as your eyes fluttered shut.

Carol kissed a path down your neck and swiftly removed your top so she could continue to treasure ever inch of you. She removed your shorts and panties too and looked up at you again when she hovered over your sensitive skin. You nodded slightly breathlessly and smiled wider when Carol threaded her fingers through yours.

"You're so wet." Carol noted with a fond smile before dragging her tongue through your folds.

"For you, Car." You sighed and let your head fall back against the sheets. Carol's tongue continued to run through your folds, occasionally pushing through your folds and moaning at the taste of you on her tongue.

She took her time with you. She teased and praised your pussy as she lapped her tongue across you and sucked your clit into her mouth, moaning again as she felt you pulse in her mouth.

You closed your legs around Carol's head and while she usually would have held them open in a strong grip, that time she let you do what you needed to as she pleasured you and kept ahold of your hands. She watched your features as the pleasure washed over your face. While Carol had quickly learnt what worked for you, that time she took extra care to give you exactly what you needed.

"Carol." You moaned as your eyes fluttered open to look down at her. Your eyes locked as your high approached and you found it hard to communicate. Luckily, you didn't need to.

"It's okay, I got you. Let go for me, y/n." She said clearly before sucking on your clit again and pushed you over the edge.

You moaned loudly as you kept your eyes on the blonde and shuddered as the large waves of your orgasm washed over you and caressed all of your nerves. Your whole body tingled as Carol helped you ride out your high and lapped up all of your cum.

"You're perfect." Carol sighed as she leaned forward to kiss you desperetly. You kissed her back with just as much passion until your lips became sore and breathing became an issue. "I love you so much." She said again, seemingly unable to stop her saying it over and over again.

*

That day as you strolled down the corridor, hand linked with Carol's, you actually felt relatively comfortable - which was very rare in high school. Your mood was unaffected from that perfect morning and so was Carol's.

"Hey you too." Wanda smirked as you and Carol approached the pair amongst some of your other friends.

"Hey." You blushed as you tried to ignore Wanda and Nat's very suggestive smiles aimed at you.

"Crazy party, huh?" Natasha said as she wrapped her arms around Wanda's waist and rested her head on the brunette's shoulder.

"Yeah, it was something." Carol said half heartedly. Admittedly, she couldn't remember what happened before she took you upstairs.

"You two seemed to have a lot of fun." You blushed more and shifted slightly on the spot.

"Yeah, you got some kind of superpowers Carol?" Wanda added and you started to look away to avoid their gazes.

"Just some talent." Carol grinned, that was definitely going to her ego.

"So thats what made y/n so loud?" Natasha chimed.

"I wasn't that loud!" You protested making the pair chuckle.

"Oh fuck, Carol, don't stop! Oh god, right there!" Natasha mimicked with some very over the top expressions.

"Okay, that's enough." Carol said through a light laugh as she felt you grip onto her hand tighter.

"That's definitely not what y/n said." Wanda grinned.

"Okay, we're going." Carol smiled as she took a step back and led you away.

"You two have a great day." Carol called over her shoulder as she started down the hallway.

"Are you alright?" Carol asked once you were a fair distance away.

"I am, thank you. I know they're just messing around but..."

"Hey it's okay." Carol said as you got to her locker. She opened it and you saw a small polaroid of both of you inside. Carol's arm was swung around you and you had her jacket over your shoulders as you both sat infront of a fire, laughing at something in the distance.

"I'll always get you out an uncomfortable situation." She said. "You can count on me for that." You grinned and kissed Carol lightly on the cheek.

"I have no doubt about that." You said honestly and Carol hummed in response.

"Anything you want, I'm there." Carol said and wrapped her arms around your waist to pull you flush against her chest.

"Then I'll always be waiting, Care Bear."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @wndrcarol @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain

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[darthmaulification]

jango fett nsfw alphabet

A/N: jango fett... my love of loves... 😳🤲💗 also, pronouncing jango as yango in my mind as i write has become my fixation for the week. 😌 i wish we got more of him though. woulda been nice. 👊😔

this has been sitting half-done in my drafts for... a while... and i know that i’ve had a couple of requests for a jango nsfw alphabet, so i sat down and finished up this bitch. 😤

again, when i write nsfw alphabets, they do tend to imply afab!reader, because that’s just my experience and what i’m most familiar/comfortable writing. however, if you omit particular lines, it works well enough for gn!reader as well! ✌

nsfw below the cut! 😘

A = aftercare (what are they like after sex?

Jango takes aftercare very very seriously. He’s naturally caring, so it also comes easy to him as well. Jango wants you to be fully comfortable, clean, and not have any serious aches after any round (or rounds) of sex. He gets you anything you may need, like a damp cloth, a massage, or he’ll even run you a warm bath/shower. He’ll be talking to you throughout the whole routine, in this soft, almost sweet voice, because he’s kinda all mushy from that after sex glow as well. Jango, as part of the aftercare, also cuddles you.

B = body part (what’s their favorite body part of their partner? what about themselves?)

Jango genuinely does love every part of your body, so it’s hard for him to choose a favorite. You’re perfect to him which makes it difficult to love any part of you more than another. However, he does tend to favor the more tender areas of your body. Be that your thighs, ass, tummy, breasts, etc etc, Jango likes the soft, malleable parts that he’s able to squeeze. He particularly enjoys seeing your plush flesh spilling from between his fingers as he rails you, and the drastic difference of your soft body against his firm, muscled one. 

If Jango had to choose a part of his body as his favorite, he’d choose his hands. He does everything with them, his entire life’s work has been carried out by his hands, from firing a blaster to raising Boba. They are the epicenter of every action he’s ever enacted, and they work pretty damn good, so his hands are definitely top priority. Also, Jango really enjoys seeing his hands all over you. The juxtaposition of his weathered, large hands on your smooth skin is a heavenly sight for him.

C = cum (basically anything to do with cum)

He cums inside, without fail. Jango loves nothing more than to bottom out inside you, pushing his cock as deep as it can go, and feel the warm, velvety heat of your core around him as he fires a load straight to your womb. Jango has a good amount of cum too, hot, sticky, white stuff that comes out in lengthy staccato spurts, that always takes a couple of good, hard thrusts to fully finish. Though if your less than thrilled to have Jango cum inside you, his pull out game is pretty damn strong, and he’ll oblige no questions asked. 

D = dirty secret (what’s their dirty secret?)

Jango just wants to settle down somewhere, preferably on a remote enough Outer Rim planet or moon, and just... make babies. He wants to make a whole damn squadron with you, have a hoard of brats (lead by Boba, of course) running around, with you pregnant and glowing, all while you live unbothered and away from Jedi, Kaminoans, war— everything. Jango has this vision in mind of you, him, and Boba just packing up and leaving to some distant planet’s village and building from the ground up, starting a new, peaceful life. He desperately wants that domesticity with you, filled with Boba and even more children and love and happiness. 

And even if you don’t want any more children, he still wants everything else with you.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Jango may not have been the biggest stud out there, but he has had his fair share of conquests. He’s never had a solid, actual relationship before you, all the others being hook ups from cantinas or brothels, because his job, lifestyle, and later Boba really demanded most of his attention. But, Jango has gotten close with enough women to know his way around the block, as well as read enough material to learn rather interesting ways to please another person.

F = favorite position (what’s their favorite position?)

Jango is a bit vanilla when it comes to positions, because he has his favorites that he doesn’t really stray from. So here they are:

Missionary. Jango likes basic missionary for the control it gives him. He loves being on top of you, able to do just about anything he pleases with your body and watch as you writhe and moan beneath him. He likes watching your face contort with pleasure when he’s flush on top of you, hips bucking and fingers toying with your clit. he likes when you pull him close with your legs, though sometimes he’ll grab you by the backs of your knees, folding you back, and slam into you like there’s no tomorrow. Jango also likes missionary for how intimate and personal it is, how yours and his bodies are entwined together.

Butterfly. He loves this position so much. Jango loves having you like this on the bed or a table, loves having your ankles on his shoulders or holding your legs at his sides as he ruts deep into you. It gives him a lot of control, which he enjoys, and the most perfect view of you coming undone, the way your lips cry his name, how your breasts bounce, and the view it gives of his cock plunging in and out of you. It’s also the position Jango’s able to hold out the longest in, and especially the one he’s able to fuck you thoroughly through your orgasm in.

G = goofy (are they the more serious type, or more humorous?)

Jango is a Closet Romantic, so he can get uncharacteristically sappy during sex. He’s not goofy, he won’t be cracking jokes or smiling like a madman, but he will have just the most tender look in his eyes, alongside the lust, like he’s realizing he loves you over and over again. This makes him less serious in return, because he looks too damn happy to be all stoic and overly focused. But that doesn’t mean he’s slacking or letting up in any way, that’s for sure. Jango is fully focused on making sure you wail from the pleasure he gives you.

H = hair (how well-groomed are they?)

Jango is very into his personal upkeep, so he’s always sure to trim downstairs. He isn’t vain, but he is a functionalist, so he keeps the tuft to a minimum. Same goes for the rest of the hair on his body, Jango keeps his hair short and is cleanshaven 98% of the time. It’s all about manageability for him.

I = intimacy ( how intimate are they during sex?)

Again, Jango is a Closet Romantic, so he is pretty darn intimate, despite how rough, hard, or kinky the sex may be. He keeps sex intimate through other means, like how he’s almost always face to face with you, or how he’s constantly calling you pet names like “Mesh’la” or “Cyar’ika”. Jango is always so close to you, like his being is one with yours, and it is amazing. He’ll be pounding you raw, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises, but the whole time he’ll be telling you how much he loves you and you’ll feel it in your soul. Jango is intimate in a brutally wonderful way.

J = jack off (do they masturbate?)

Before he met you? Not all that often, maybe once in a blue moon. He didn’t have much time, to be honest, nor the will to. After he met you? ... Well, whenever you’re on his mind and he’s got that itch that needs scratching. It doesn’t happen often, but Jango does realize he’s yanking it more than he ever used to.

K = kinks (any kinks?)

Oh, yeah. Jango’s the type of man who looks all unassuming and vanilla on the surface, but Maker when you dig a little, he’s one kinky gentleman. Here’s his main ones:

Daddy kink. Jango is a bonifide DILF, so if you call him Daddy he’ll be on you in no time flat. He likes how the name falls off your lips when he’s got you bouncing on his cock, or how there’s a satisfying ring to it when you’re begging him to let you come. In fact, he likes the name so much he’ll probably be okay with it if you say it to him in public.

Breeding/pregnancy kink. ALL MANDALORIANS HAVE BREEDING KINKS. I said what I said and I meant what I said!! Fuck, Jango wants to get you pregnant so bad it has his balls aching. He cums in you every time, makes sure all his cum stays deep inside you, and grunts out how sexy you’d look with a round belly, with tits full of milk, all glowy and beautiful in the way pregnant women are. It’s his desire for family that really kicks in, and that Jango was raised to value and honor parenthood and children like every Mandalorian is taught.

Bondage. Specifically with blue ribbon, of all things. Jango loves nothing more than to tie you up, maybe lace your wrists together behind your back, tie your ankles to the bedposts, he loves the control it gives him, the access. He is also very much a fan of the view, of your tight, glistening cunt that’s all needy for him. If you’re not a fan of bondage though, Jango won’t be upset or hold it against you, but he may just ask for you to wear the blue ribbon, like lingerie he’s able to pull at a little.

Marking. Jango doesn’t like biting, but he does love leaving dark, big hickeys all over your body. His lips are constantly on your skin, whenever he isn’t busy teasing, sucking dark marks on your neck, back, breasts, everywhere. And again, he doesn’t like biting, but there’ll be times when his teeth just barely graze your skin, and sometimes he nibble at your earlobe or other delicate parts of your body.

Size kink. Jango may not be the biggest man, but he’ll always be big to you. It’s his presence that really does it, the aura that surrounds him and makes him ten times larger. It’s powerful and intimidating, and Jango knows this and revels in it. He loves being the big, strong man doting on his sweet, small partner, loves how you look under him and his hands, how your pussy has to stretch around his cock. It’s utterly obscene how horny it makes Jango to see your cute slit swallow his dick, how your tight core takes him with a bit of struggle every time. It makes him go especially feral if he’s able to see himself poke against your skin from the inside.

L = location (favorite place to “do the do”?)

The bedroom, for a couple practical reasons. One, Boba exists, and it’s every parent’s nightmare to have their child walk in on them doing the do. Two, it’s the most secure and safe place Jango and you have. He keeps the bedroom fortified like he would a small army base, there are hidden weapons, sensors, etc— In fact, yours and Jango’s bedroom also doubles as a safety bunker should it be necessary. 

And since the bedroom is so safe, Jango is completely comfortable and at ease inside it, so he’s more inclined to do positively nasty things to/with you.

M = motivation (what gets them turned on?)

Jango gets pretty motivated to roll in the hay quite easily, but if there’s any sure fire way you can get him hard in seconds it would be lingerie. He finds you so sexy in something downright scandalous. You’re dressed all scantily clad just for him? Yes, please. You lean over and whisper you’ve got a thong on? He’s making sure Boba is off doing something for a long period of time so he can have his way with you. Lingerie and other suggestive clothing makes Jango weak in the knees.

N = NO (what’s their turn offs?)

Jango draws the line at sadism. He doesn’t, and won’t ever, want to hurt you in any way, even if you asked for it. The thought of him laying a hand on you like that makes him shut down. It’d be a definite mood killer.

O = oral (do they have a preference in giving/receiving?)

Listen, Jango is a caring man, he loves to give head. He lives for the feeling of your thighs on either side of his head, the way you tremble and clench, the taste of your wet pussy and delectable, sweet release. Jango seeks to work you to near overstimulation with his mouth, bringing you to the edge and leaving you there before he brutally makes you hit orgasm. And if you haven’t cum at least twice from him going down on you alone, Jango feels he failed and it’s now a dire mission to correct the wrong.

Now for receiving head... Jango gets kinda feral when you do. If you want to suck him off, he gets very controlling and very dominate. He clasps a sturdy hand on the back of your head, controls your pace, and orders you on exactly he wants done to him. Expect to take his whole length, with enough prep, in your mouth and have Jango all but throat fuck you. You’ll definitely be deepthroating that bitch, so slobber on his cock a little bit, Jango likes seeing you all messy like that.

P = pace & PDA (are they soft, sensual, rough, or feral? are they open to displaying the relationship?)

Jango fucks like your his lifeline, which you kinda are, so he often times goes hard and rough, but with an overpowering sensuality that leaves you breathless. He spends every second he’s on you making sure you know you’re utterly perfect while simultaneously blowing your back out and ruining you with all the dirty things that come out of his mouth. His hands never leave you for a second, always he is exploring your body like it’s always the first time he has, lips leaving searing kisses all over you, completely and utterly ravishing you. Jango puts his entire being into fucking, all of his effort into loving you. 

Sometimes though, Jango will go gentler. He’ll maintain that same intensity, but he’ll be more tender, something akin to soft. Usually he’s like this if he’s feeling particularly sappy and/or lovey-dovey, but he’ll also go like this if you ask, specifically if you use the words “make love”.

Q = quickies (what’s their opinion on quickies?)

Jango would have definitely been more inclined towards quickies pre-Boba, but since he has a son who’s no longer a baby and can walk and has the tendency to explore, Jango can’t really ensure the privacy of a quickie in a hallway, or the kitchen, or the Slave I... or anywhere for that matter. So while he does thoroughly enjoy them, any opportunity to stick his dick in you is golden in his book, he and you kinda have to be aware of the young boy who has the possibility to pop up whenever.

R = risks (are they okay with experimenting? do they take risks?)

The only risks that Jango would ever take would be in an environment where Jango has full control over any and all factors. This means he won’t pull you into a storage closet to fuck unless he knows for a fact no one is coming down the hallway anytime soon, or he knows that no one uses the empty bedroom you found, or anything else for that matter. However, Jango can’t always ensure that, so don’t expect too many sexual escapades in less than appropriate areas.

On the topic of kinks, positions, toys and whatnot, Jango is far more willing to experiment, especially with toys and positions. He likes a little flare, so he’ll gladly accept to try fun sex positions you’ve seen on the holonet, or a new toy you purchased. Jango will only draw a hard line at stuff that has too high of a potential to hurt you, or him for that matter.

S = stamina (how many rounds can they last?)

Because Jango paces himself so well and is a master of self control, he can go for a long time, especially if he’s fairly well rested and in relatively good condition. He can easily last 3-4 rounds before his body tells him to go the fuck to sleep, and even when that happens, he might eat you out one last time (if you’re so inclined and willing). 

T = toys (do they own/use any toys?)

(in Patrick voice) Is ribbon a toy? Jango owns a length of cobalt blue ribbon that he uses to tie you up, and a small vibrator that he likes to overstimulate your clit with, should you be okay with either of the two. He’s never personally had toys of his own (waste of money, no one to use it on, etc) but after meeting you, those (especially the ribbon) were the first ones he’s ever bought. If you have any toys, Jango might be a bit adverse to any that you intend to try on him, depending upon the toy’s purpose.

U = unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

Yes. Jango teases in the smuggest, most prideful way possible that’ll make you want to rip your hair out, but it’s all so painfully eloquent and well-mannered, it’s sexy. He’s the master of making his teasing sound worth it, that’ll you’ll want to hear it all over again and again. This sentiment extends to what he actually does to you as well, which sucks but is so perfect at the same time. Jango is able to tease you just right, stopping at perfectly infuriating times that’ll have you hot and bothered before indulging you wonderfully before he does it all over again.

V = volume (how loud or quiet are they during sex?)

Jango is more talkative than anything else, spending most his time teasing you, letting the most polite dirty things slip past his lips. But when he really gets going, Jango gets louder, grunting more, low groans reverberating in his chest and throat, occasionally cussing in Mando’a. It all depends on the type of sex you’re having, whether it’s slow and passionate or rough and frenzied.

W = wildcard (what’s a random headcanon?)

Jango loves it when you mark him up a bit too. Whether that be leaving cute little love bites on his chest and neck, or long scratches down his back, or even only the barely noticeable divots of your fingernails on his shoulders— Jango will wear them unapologetically and proudly. He won’t go out of his way to show them off (who even sees him out of his armor anyways?), but knowing that they’re there is enough for him to get a little smug about it. 

X = x-ray & x-tra (what’s underneath those clothes? any more random headcanons?”)

Jango’s got a nice bod, that’s for damn sure. He’s doesn’t have that statuesque, male model body that’s plastered on advertisements, but his sturdy frame certainly isn’t undesirable in the slightest. Jango is broad everywhere; from his wide, strong shoulders, to his large hands, to every beefy muscle on his body. He has probably the best pair of pecs out there, bulky and deliciously brushed with dark chest hair, and a very cute firm stomach with minimal yet powerful definition. There’s also something to be said about his arms and legs, all of which are absolutely stacked with bulging muscle, toned from years of training and fighting. Jango has a body that radiates strength and power, intimidating but incredibly handsome.

He has some scars too, most mar the bronze skin of his hands and arms, but there’s a few significant ones on his torso and legs as well. Most have gone silvery with age, but there’s a couple that are more pink. Jango may not ever admit it, but some of the older scars, especially the larger, thicker ones, give him phantom pains every once in a while. He finds it very comforting if you kiss them.

Now, the best part. Jango is packing heat in his pants. He’s got a good cock on him, that’s for damn sure. He’s not pornstar big, coming in at 6.5 inches in length, but Maker is he girthy. Jango’s penis is just under 3 inches in diameter, almost the width of a soda can. He’s uncut, and when erect it has a subtle tilt to the left and up. It’s also weighty, so you’ll really be able to feel it when he’s in.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Jango has a moderately high sex drive. He’s not one to find everything you’re doing a turn on (coughMaulcough), but he gets a lil’ frisky and handsy if you’re looking all cute doing your thing. Jango also tends to want you a bit more if he’s been parted from you for any amount of time, especially after long, tireless missions when all he thinks about is returning to you.

Of course, he has to exercise his self-restraint, because there is a certain third party by the name of Boba who Jango does not want to have walk in while he’s doing... less than appropriate things to you. So Jango is able to quell his sex drive quite well and save it for later.

Z = zzzz (how fast do they fall asleep after?)

Normally, Jango kinda has a bit of trouble falling asleep, often laying awake for a long few hours, because he has a lot to worry about in his life (and a lot of unresolved guilt too). Though, after a few rounds or so of sex, he’s more inclined to fall asleep from the exertion and that mellow, sleepy afterglow sex has the tendency to be followed up with. Jango still doesn’t fall asleep all to fast after, but once he’s got you cleaned up and you’re both happy and curled up next to each other, he’ll fall asleep maybe half an hour or so after you have. He always falls asleep after you, regardless.