#I didn't think we were really infested...

[littleapocalypsekitten]

The Saga of Mice.

For a while now, I'd been seeing mice in our kitchen -just a quick furry-scurry thing that would bolt under a cabinet every once in a while when I was entering the kitchen. A couple of weeks ago, I saw a mouse trying to venture out into the hallway and thought "This bugger is getting BOLD!" Tolerance only goes so far, especially upon the discovery of a multitude of newly-existing mouse turds atop the roll-out shelf we keep under the kitchen-island where my Kitchen Aid lives. (It is covered with one of those fabric covers, but still...). We are currently catless (an issue with having a small apartment and a grumpy landlord). I bought a couple of snap-traps, but haven't used them. This is because my honey set up a type of trap that he's used before in another home to catch mice: A large bucket (we have a big foodsafe bucket that we use to brine turkey in for Thanksgiving), birdseed with lots of sunflower seed and a place to set it up where we know they can get it. We have the thing stuck up against a stack of takeout soup-containers that we use for storage and kind of up under the kitchen-island, so there are places they can climb in and drop in upon smelling the presence of the seeds. It works. Oh, my God, it works! Typically, we get one at night and find it in the morning - or sometimes, one of us will hear scrabbling around if we wake up in the middle of the night. Right now, there are two of the little buggers in there that somehow decided to go food-hunting in a well-lit kitchen just after dinnertime - meaning that they weren't running around hunting for food when the big ape-kaiju were actively in the kitchen, but in the space of about an hour... Okay, I've got Pinky and the Brain now. They're scrabbling in there, trying to jump back out and snuffling around in the seeds. The whole idea is that "you can drop in, but you can't jump back out." The first one we caught *did* escape, though, because It repaied a kindness of mine by being a jerk. I decided to put a shallow dish of water in the bottom of the bucket because I didn't like the idea of a critter being without water if we were going to wait around to catch more. It managed to use the dish as just enough leverage for an escape-jump. No more water. Now, we just release them every morning out into the thicket at the edge of the neighbors' backyard (hoping they don't find their way into the apartments again). We think we may be providing snacks for the local cats and foxes. Depends upon if the mice can find holes to duck into, I guess. But, geez... So many little beady eyes looking up at me. Haha! You're stuck in a bucket!

[hershelwidget]

When he Mafia AUs on your Inkling till you [The Mind Electric AMV]

I don't. Know what that caption is. I just wanted something funny to deter from the fact that this is probably the most threatening Inkling I'm ever gonna draw. why is he like that. peepaw stop glaring at someone in the distance like that you're scaring the crew

[livinghostly]

miss me if you want to — megumi fushiguro x reader

a/n: happy late birthday pookie wc: 3.6k megumi ends up at his old middle school for a mission, and reminisces on his time there, with you. fluff/humor, happy ending, gojo being his dad self

megumi kept his hands in his pockets as he scoped the halls of urami east middle school, desperately trying to ignore the entourage of sorcerers behind him and their barrage of questions. unfortunately for megumi, nobara just discovered a commonality. (“fushiguro, let’s go beat up that guy! for old time’s sake, you know!” “kugisaki, you can’t just point to every man and ask to beat them up. we don’t know anybody here! and you can’t say old times sake if you didn't even go here, right?”)

it took all his willpower not to turn around and curse them both back to jujutsu tech, their voices burning through his ears and building an irritation in his gut. any of his old classmates who recognized him seemed to gape, just before ducking their heads and scurrying down the hall. it didn’t give him much to work with regarding the assignment. his friends giggled, poorly hiding it behind their hands.

it was hard for the nostalgia of his middle school and the presence of old peers to settle in with the constant whispering behind him, even if part of himself wasn’t sure that he wanted to reflect on his time there. he remembered the cream-colored walls and tan uniform jackets being less harsh on his eyes, every memory he could recall was hazed over with a dark grime.

the smell of freshly waxed floors and chalk dust washed over him like waves, passing his old classroom’s doors that were propped open. he could hear the muffled lessons, and wondered the last time he really used any academics from–

“fushiguro, why don’t you have anything in the trophy case?” nobara pondered, dragging her finger along the glass border.

“they’ve gotta have one for the best stink-face, right?” yuji howled with laughter. ���you’d totally win!”

“can you guys get it together? we’re not going to get anywhere if you keep messing around,” megumi said, not bothering to spare them a glance. he refused to prove itadori right with his stink-face. “go walk the south corridor, there’s a few offices for the staff, they might know something.”

“fushiguro,” yuji whined. 

“go.” 

reluctantly, his friends shuffled away. “yeah, i think we kind of pushed our luck that time,” nobara mumbled.

finally, he reveled in the silence. there was a bud of anxiety in his stomach, a nagging feeling that just around the corner would be a teacher to chastise him for his history of delinquency. on the other hand, the possibility of seeing one of the many faces he had beaten and bruised.

megumi rounded the corner that led to the library and various study rooms, keeping his gaze on the windows. he remembered the landscape being different, more sullen, but still captivating him as much. he remembered his frequent trips to the library when he wasn’t spending his time rounding together the bullies and failures that infested the school.

the library wasn’t special, but he could always–

“megumi?”

megumi’s eyes widened as he whipped his head forward. the voice, though unexpected, was unmistakable in his mind. his bud of anxiety bloomed when he saw you, your head tilted in the same bewilderment. out of all places, he didn’t expect to see you at the place you graduated, just over a year ago.

the fog that coated all his memories seemed to dissipate, recollection of you clouded with a glow that couldn’t compare to the way you looked now. your school uniform was haphazard, white button up untucked and rolled to your elbows and your dark jacket was discarded on the library cart you leaned on. your confusion washed away and your face was taken up by a bright smile, and with that megumi blushed furiously.

“y/n? i didn’t expect to see you here.” he cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his composure, and closed the gap between you so all that was left in the way was the cart. you craned your neck to meet his gaze, he’d grown a bit. “don’t tell me they made you repeat.”

shaking your head, you laughed. he missed that. “you’re telling me, you’re supposed to be all the way at jujutsu tech. what are you doing here?”

“i asked you first.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. always so combative.

“i use my free period to help out here, it’s only like a five minute walk from the high school.”

megumi hummed. so you decided to stay close. it was always a toss up. 

“so, how’s jujutsu tech so far? everything you wanted and more?”

megumi smiled, recalling the day he told you that’s where he would be attending, and you found it completely ridiculous. hilarious, even. a religious school, for him? if you hadn’t met gojo before you would have thought he was sentencing megumi there as some sort of punishment for his delinquency at school. unfortunately, you had met gojo, and the idea of him teaching at a religious school and dragging megumi with him only drove you to further hysterics. 

the humor you found in all of it almost made up for the lies he was feeding you. a part of him longed for you to have some cursed energy to see all that he did, so you could understand the life he lives. maybe if you did, you would go to jujutsu tech with him, and he could share more of his life with you.

but megumi knew you were much better off without it, and without him. here, in your home environment, you were glowing. you were living a good and safe life, and he would keep it that way.

so, he fed you more white lies. kept it all vague and lighthearted so you could sleep easy. the school staff was capable, his studies were improving, and his classmates were… tolerable, at best. or so he claimed. the lighthearted jokes at their expense were always followed by a compliment on their character, you knew he was fond of them.

before he knew it, the two of you were strolling around the campus together with your shoulders glued to each other like you were back in routine. everything about being with you again was timeless. you still exaggerated with your hands and paused at the ends of your sentences to enunciate with your facial expressions, and always stayed on his left side so he didn’t have to face down the beating sun when he was looking at you. and he was always looking at you.

every once in a while, your hand brushed up against his and his movements would stutter. he would wait for some sort of reaction, though he wasn’t sure why. confirmation, that it was okay? or to see how much he could get away with. you acted as if it was nothing, and he wondered if you’d stay like that if he closed the distance and finally grasped your hand with his.

megumi had your school blazer draped over his other arm. he wasn’t much of a talker, even with you. but it seemed once you were able to get his shoulders to relax and his guard slipped a bit more, he rambled on about the more trivial things in his life. his friends– “i wouldn’t call them that” – and their endless enthusiasm. it’s like they were born yesterday, and every day in tokyo they lived like a fish out of water. they dragged him into a lot of things, but also held him back. megumi rolled his eyes when you said it was probably a good thing, since you weren’t around to do that anymore. you also weren’t very good at it.

megumi couldn’t look at you when you smiled like that, like an all-knowing entity that can see through the cracks in his image. like you knew him better than he knew himself, because in some ways you did. he looked at the ground, his shoes, and the trees, anything that couldn’t perceive the blush that ran up his neck.

“fushiguro?!”

he didn’t realize the lax in his composure until he tensed up again at the screech of his name not too far behind him. his smile dropped and he was brought back to the reality of his situation, being on a mission, scrounging for any murmurs about this curse he was meant to be hunting while dragging around two idiots with him. 

nobara and yuji were pale from shock, stiff as boards at the sight of their fushiguro cozy with some stranger. nitta was next to them, jaw agape as she stared and slithered her phone out of her pocket.

megumi’s eye twitched.

“fushiguro, is this why you sent us off to the teacher's lounge? to flirt?! with a girl?!” yuji cried, pointing an accusatory finger as he fell to his knees. the pavement cracked beneath him as he slammed his fist into the concrete in despair. 

“fushiguro, don’t tell me you’ve gone soft for some pretty girl? we’re here for business!” nobara claimed, crossing her arms.

“they’re your friends you were talking about, ‘gumi?” you hummed, looking at him. you batted your eyelashes with an amused expression. 

god, no. he couldn’t spit out the words when he was barely holding on to his composure at the nickname. these people, in the matching uniforms? never met ‘em.

a gust of wind weaved itself through your hair and yuji was at your feet, his incredible speed surprising you enough that you sidestepped right into megumi’s chest. his breath hitched, somewhere between a gasp at the sudden contact and a sigh of disappointment towards yuji’s behavior. nobara was quick behind him, her anger had dissolved into a teasing nature.

humiliation swelled in his chest and lumped in the back of his throat, in the back of his mind he was routing all the ways he could get back at yuji later for the way he was acting. 

“you told her about us?!” yuji said, his excitement warming the air around him. 

“‘course he did,” nobara smirked. “we are your best friends, aren’t we, ‘gumi?”

megumi sighed. he wouldn’t live that down. “y/n, this is itadori and kugisaki, they’re the other first years at jujutsu tech. this is y/n, we went to middle school together.”

you smiled and offered a finger wave.

“middle school, huh? and you’re still here?” nobara’s eyes sparkled. you wouldn’t admit out loud that the intensity in her grin made your stomach turn. she placed a hand on her chest dramatically, “you get in too much trouble? got held back? i understand the life–“

“you must have the funniest stories about fushiguro!” the pink-haired boy interrupted with his laughter. “did he ever–“

“i need to walk y/n back to her class before she’s late,” megumi cut him off sharply. “head back to the car and i’ll meet you there, after i get back we should get going anyway.”

without a second thought, he grabbed your arm gently and tugged you with him to turn around. you were able to call out a quick, it was nice to meet you! before you were pulled around the corner.

his steps were quicker than yours so his hand made its way to the small of your back as he ushered you to meet his pace and put the distance between you and the gawking seagulls behind him.

your heart stuttered at the contact but you didn’t stop him, and instead leaned closer to his side. that seemed to jolt some sense into him, his fingers tensing and relaxing again on the soft fabric of your uniform and ultimately deciding to stay put. that didn’t make him any less hyper-aware of it, though. he flickered gaze from you to the sidewalk, back to you, and the sidewalk again. 

“i’m sorry about them. they’re idiots sometimes,” he mumbled. “most of the time, actually.”

the path to the highschool felt oddly familiar. the trees waved gently in the wind and beckoned him back to his memories of walking you home from school, the warmth of the sunshine on his skin much the same as the warmth that sprouted in his stomach when he was around you. 

he always stood straighter when he was beside you, squeezing your hand tightly when crossing the street and tucked you under his arm when passing by anyone he deemed suspicious. which, to a young megumi who saw the world in black and white, was much of the population. in those times where his adrenaline was pumping, he never thought twice about protecting you. even against what you couldn’t see, like curses, strolling through the streets unchecked. 

“don’t apologize, ‘gumi. they seem like fun.” you chuckled, rubbing your knuckles gently. you couldn’t blame them for their reactions, nor could you blame your friend for not ever telling them about you. he was always a bit reserved. “i think they’re just excited to learn something about you.”

you had classes with him, and there were often times he would come in late with bloody knuckles and his hair tousled. most days he would tell you why, how they were smoking on school grounds or picking on someone in the cafeteria. other days he wouldn’t, he refused to even give you an idea of the things they said or did, and though it drove you crazy for a few hours you would eventually drop it. 

and he got to keep it to himself, the way other boys would talk about you. despite not knowing you, they made their assumptions and boasted about untrue speculations. rumors and comments were short-lived when he was around, and he wondered if it stayed that way after he left.

megumi carried the secret of the jujutsu world on his shoulders, all the unruly death he’d witnessed, his sister’s curse. despite the way he’d grown in the jujutsu world and how desensitized he’d become to some things, they still haunted him. he’d would’ve liked to keep something good a secret too, just for a little while longer. 

“yeah, well, i think i’d rather keep you to myself.”

“don’t tell me you’re embarrassed of me.” your teasing tone was in one ear and out the other for megumi. his tongue swelled in his throat as he tripped over his own words. you laughed, and he seemed to relax.

his hand had slipped from your back and rested between you. you found the confidence to grasp the sleeve of his uniform and keep a hold of it comfortably, watching his expression melt into a smile he couldn’t hide behind bitten cheeks.

you weren’t one to ever think you could change megumi fushiguro, though there were many times you were the one repeating in his ear to just let it go so you could go eat lunch together. (on the flip side, there were also times you were chanting his name off the sidelines watching it all unfold on your lunch period like an MMA fight). you never sought to make him a softer, more well-rounded student, nor did you ask him to ever open himself up to you.

but he did, and despite the time passed be still preened his vulnerability to you like an open wound seeking care. 

“i missed you, y/n,” megumi said suddenly. 

“those jujutsu tech kids can’t replace me, huh?”

he smiled, shaking his head. “it’s not even close.”

the roof of the highschool peaked over the trees ahead. 

“i missed you too, ‘gumi.” a question laid on the tip of your tongue, and you quickly swallowed it before it could tumble out. “do you think… that you’ll come by again? when it's not for some school project?” 

“i’m sure i could find a reason to.”

you looked up to him, meeting his amorous gaze. it was your turn to blush, scrunching up to hide the bashful smile that threatened to take over. “you have my number, you know. it hasn’t changed.”

megumi nodded. “yeah, things have been… busy, for a while now. it’s hard to get away.”

the two of you closed in on the school’s entrance, still tiptoeing the line of hand-holding. megumi faced you fully now, silent, and blocking the sun’s rays as he stared down at you with his eyes full of adoration. he looked at you like he did on graduation day– a heavy cloud of fear hanging above him, pouring down the terrifying thought he would never see you again.

“call me and tell me all about it, yeah?” 

he smirked. “i will.”

he always clung to darker clothes and aesthetics, but you thought he looked best in the sunlight. his dark hair was coated with a navy luster, similar to that of his eyes. you could see his reddening cheeks better, when there wasn’t any shade to hide them.

“thanks for walking me back,” you said, your gaze flickering around his face, soaking in his appearance while still in front of you. he had already changed so much since the last time you saw him.

“it’s not a problem, i’m happy to spend time with you.” megumi paused, reaching for the door handle with a pit in his stomach growing. “i hope i didn’t make you late.”

you smiled. “i think i’ll be okay.” 

a beat of silence passed, and your face twisted into one of concentration as you stared him down. a small sigh left your lips, one of surrender as you settled on your decision. he registered the shift in your demeanor and he narrowed his eyebrows as he observed.

you grabbed the lapel of his uniform suddenly and tugged him downward to connect his lips with yours. the initial impact softened when he registered his surroundings and relaxed, molding against your grasp and sliding his hands over the curve of your waist. relief washed over you and you ran your fingers over the nape of his neck. he paused briefly, to catch your reaction as you regained your breathing, and then nudged his nose against your cheek before kissing you again.

megumi’s breathing was quick, excitement drumming through his body as he focused on you, and only you. he never had the luxury of anticipating this, expecting such affection from you was reckless and selfish despite all the times he’d thought of it. here you were, before him, unknowingly giving in to his delicate fantasies.

you pulled away, breathless as you met his eyes. his smile was gentle, expression refrained while his admiration poured into his steel grip on you, keeping you close.

“call me, okay?” you let out a winded laugh, brushing your thumb against his flushed cheek.

megumi nodded, swallowing the desperation that clawed his throat. you stepped away, and he ached for your warmth on his skin again. he was still reeling from the interaction, helplessly watching with an emptiness in his hands as you slipped out of his grasp and opened the door for yourself. 

you disappeared, and he was left alone with the resounding click of the door. 

bonus 

“y/n! oh, they grow up so fast.” gojo cradled nitta’s phone in his hand with a wobbly lip, wiping a theatrical tear from his cheek. a fuming fushiguro was pictured with all his focus aimed towards his friends, with you awkwardly smiling at his side, completely ignorant to nitta’s rapid clicking. gojo swiped through the photos quickly, watching megumi’s mouth snap open and closed over and over. he sighed longingly, “the one who got away.” 

nobara leaned forward on her crossed legs, tensely gripping the loungeroom couch. “i knew they had history, fushiguro was totally defensive over her.”

beside her, yuji was perched on the armrest with his eyes blown wide– bearing resemblance to a gargoyle. “yeah, he got all clammy and weird. i’ve never seen him like that before.”

“well,” gojo set the phone down on the coffee table, for all to see. “megumi can be a little rough around the edges, but he’s got his moments.”

“so, what’s she really like? was she shoving people in lockers like fushiguro? i bet they were some sort of sick power couple, she seems like she’s got a dark side.”

their teacher smirked, leaning back in the armchair as he listened to their conspiracies. ‘sick power couple’ was a quite generous interpretation of your and megumi’s younger days– gojo recalled the awkward preteens you were, bumping into each other and melting into a flushed state during study nights (strictly stated by megumi not to be referred to as dates). gojo never, ever helped such situations, often making them worse with a shove or teasing comment at the boy’s expense. 

“ha! i doubt it, she was way too nice to us.”

you were moreso a bystander to megumi’s antics, sometimes a cheerleader. but it was still like you to snap, or slap, him back to his senses whenever he got all ‘high and mighty’ like some ‘reactionary douchebag’ –stated in your own eloquence. gojo remembered the times you’d unlock the front door and throw it open with one hand, dragging a frustrated megumi whose physical bruises mirrored the ones on his ego. you’d throw him to the nearest chair and welcome yourself to the apartment’s amenities while he wallowed in silence, both of you waiting for the air to settle and ignoring the presence of his guardian and his amused expression.

“man, fushiguro must be pretty bummed right now.”

the loungeroom door swung open abruptly, the door handle cementing itself in the drywall. megumi presented himself in his rage, his cursed energy fiercely blazing around him and crackling at his fingertips. his expression was dark, eyes immediately drawn to the center coffee table with nitta’s own slideshow presentation of yet another humiliating moment for him. 

nobara and yuji were struck with fear, paling in solidarity with the wallpaper. nitta quivered behind them, crouching.

gojo let out a low whistle. “someone’s going through it. don’t tell me she left you on read.”

[beat-the-morning]

🖤 Fumigation Journal || Hozier x Reader🖤

BOTH PARTS

READ ON TUMBLR UNDER CUT || READ ON AO3

Rating: 18+ || smut

Tags: oral sex, multiple orgasms, cum eating, cum swallowing, marsturbation interrupted, love confessions, fingering, face fucking, dry humping, marking, creampie (kinda), squirting, breakfast in bed

Summary: Andrew is staying at your apartment while his house gets fumigated, you come back from work one day only to find him with your dream journal in hand. What will happen next?

Word Count: 7k

A/N: This fic was co-written with oomf :) We both wrote both chapters— go give them some love!!

Their Wattpad

💙FULL FIC UNDER CUT💙

You gazed out your window, sleepy eyes reverently observing the sunrise. Your heart swelled— somehow, the sunrise always felt prettier when you had someone to love. Really, everything in life gets slathered in beauty

And, oh, how close your love was. He was staying in your shitty apartment instead of his big, old house. The one that had no air conditioning, that he needed to get renovated when he moved in to even be able to piss in the bathroom. It also frequently got infested with bugs. Andrew tried everything, but nothing really worked. Not bug traps, nor the exterminator, nor closing the gaps in the house.

So, currently the house was getting fumigated. Maybe these bugs realized how he was made for you. Maybe they were on your side— the ultimate matchmakers. You giggled into your pillow at the mere thought.

You got up and rolled out of bed. Work was in 30 minutes— it was probably best to suck it up and stop staring at the sky, like some sort of romantic. Even if you very well were. You stumbled out of your room, hair frizzy, face bare, eyes blurry.

Your sleepy legs made their way into the kitchen, every step a battle. You weren't paying attention, your mind was way better at thinking about your pretty best friend. In consequence, you bumped into the man himself. Face hitting his chest, you let out a tired groan. You looked up at him with weary eyes— one of his hands ended up on your shoulder, steadying you.

“Clumsy morning, huh?”

You cover your mouth, hiding a yawn. Andrew laughed, a warm, mellow, welcoming sound. Wanting him was your only absolute this early. Everything was blurry, you really didn't care about anything, you were tired, and your head hurt. But you wanted him, and you wanted him now.

“I made french toast.” He said, letting you go, interrupting your thinking.

You happily hummed, sitting down at the table as he set a plate in front of you, “Thank you, Andy”

“No problem. And I'm sorry for this being all so sudden. Thank you for taking me in. It… it really means a lot, you're a sweetheart. Truly.”

Your cheeks flushed, and it took you a few seconds to compose yourself before you dug into your pancakes.

Once you were done stuffing your face, you quickly got ready for your job. You organized books at the local library— and you sure as hell dressed the part. You decided on a patterned button down and black trousers- hell, your elderly neighbor dressed younger than you.

Work was boring as fuck, but at least it was Friday, so no more work for a couple days. You got through the day with one too many cups of coffee and at least one “smoke break”, which was really just a lap around the block to get away from work for a few minutes.

You didn't have the worst job ever—hell, the pay was the best you'd had. But it was tedious, and mind-numbingly boring. Especially when you had a man at home. Not your man, but rather the man you were given the curse of being “just friends” with.

You were utterly thrilled, yet exhausted at the end of the day, when you took the bus home and planned what movie you and Andy were to watch.

Your aching legs made their way up the stairs, your hand holding tightly onto the handrail, trying not to fall down the steps from how drowsy you were. The sweet promise of seeing your best friend filled you, though, and it did almost numb your pain.

You finally reached your floor, opening the door, heart warm and fuzzy, and your eyes befell a beautiful, but shocking sight.

Andrew lay there, on your cozy couch, in sweatpants and a white ribbed tank top. Even that was enough to stun you. His eyes were focused, glazed over, head tilted back. His hair was messy, tangled.

In one hand, he held a small, black journal- with striking similarity to your dream journal. You’d been using it for a few months now and had written every dream you’d had in it, while it had started out with innocent little fairytales, your dreams had become far less appropriate as of late. So the journal mostly was composed of dirty descriptions of intimacy- all with Andrew. This was the book that you mistakenly left open on your coffee table the night before. His other hand was under his sweatpants, gripping tightly, stroking his cock with wild abandon. He knew it was wrong, that he was invading your privacy, but god, was he weak for you.

“So fuckin’ hot…” He groans, the world around him fuzzy and blurred. “Please” he whimpered, bucking into his hand, a bit of drool leaking onto his chest, soaking the hair that peeked out from under that singlet.

You took it all in, and realized that you should not be watching this. You quickly shut the door, followed by a loud curse from Andy. You could feel your heart pounding in your ear. Fuck, were you wet. You were still in your work clothes, very much dressed like a librarian. But you couldn’t deny the wetness underneath it all, you felt your panties soaking more and more as the seconds passed by, you hated and loved what his simple yet perverted act was doing to you.

Behind the door, Andrew quickly put his conscious, ever twitching length away under those unintentionally slutty grey sweatpants. Or intentionally— you knew this man. Despite his very common bouts of disliking everything about himself, he knew how hot others saw him. And he wasn’t an idiot— he'd seen your reverent stares. He'd noticed how you always stayed wrapped in his arms just a second too long after hugs. He knew that you were attracted to him on some level. Maybe not the full extent, but he knew something was up.

How could he ruin this by wanking off to your private journal? Once his dick was put away, still twitching, leaking a bit in his pants, he ran his hand through his hair, hunched over, filled with guilt. Your moleskin-wrapped journal was abandoned on the floor. Man, did he fuck up.

You leaned into the door, your voice shaky— you were embarrassed, turned on, and terrified all at the same time.

“Andy… you decent?” you called out on the other side of the thin door, meek.

He looked up from his hands covering his flushed face, and responded a very pathetic, “Yea… Ehm, yeah, I am.” He shifted awkwardly, before his pretty hazel eyes fixed upon the floor. Shamed, and rightfully cockblocked.

You opened the door, slowly walking back into your apartment, your eyes focused on the floor, too embarrassed to look over at him. His breathing was shaky— he was scared to take even one step closer to you.

“I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t—“ he cut himself off, taking in a deep breath before speaking again. “I have no excuse, I really, really don’t. I just… I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. I was.. you were gone, found yer book… and… and I thought you were working, and I'm so fucking sorry, Ang-” He cut himself off with a sob, one finger nervously twisting at a curl.

Angel, huh? The man was always such a sweet talker when he fucked up. Now you weren't even mad at him, how could you be? You wished you could have the image of him pleasuring himself burnt into your eyelids. But you snapped out of these filthy thoughts when he spoke again.

“I’ll just leave, I know you probably need to process this whole thing, but please don’t—“

“No- I mean, it’s…” You took a heavy breath in. Please keep going. You thought, but what slipped out was a little more civil;

“We all do it, yeah? So… so…” You took another heavy breath in, your tone changing to a softer one. “Don’t leave.”

His heart broke with your last words, how could he say no to you?

“No, no, I'm… really sorry, that journal was private. And… and it's not fair to you,” cue the chorus of sniffles, “It's none of my business, even if it's about-”

And when you thought your cheeks couldn't flush more. Your best friend was sobbing, and yet you couldn't help but notice the outline in those sweats. Long, hard, twitching, leaking onto the waistband. Oh, how you wish to swallow it whole.

You took a step closer to him, finally looking into his eyes, they were red and teary, begging for forgiveness. You hugged him, awkwardly, but you knew he didn’t care much about that. He just needed the embrace of another. He felt horrible—disrespectful, dirty, perverted. All he wanted to do was sink into this couch and die from pure sin.

But the closest he could do was sink into you. He was so disappointed in himself that he didn't really notice his face was between your breasts. Fine, he did notice, and it made him even harder. But it was a shameful boner— and he really did derive a lot of comfort from your embrace.

You gently stroked his hair, whispering the occasional ‘you're okay’. Did he notice how hard your nipples were? Did he feel your heart beating? Oh, you felt him. Obviously he was hunched over, in a way that you couldn't feel his cock, but you could feel his shaky hands holding onto you. You could feel the way he nuzzled his nose into your breast— and fuck, did it turn you on.

You moved to the couch, sitting down next to each other, you gently pulled his face from your chest, holding it tenderly in your hands. He looked so ashamed, yet aroused. He closed his eyes for a second, relishing in your touch and caresses, surprised that you even wanted him near you.

He sighed softly, eyes still closed, you placed a tender kiss on his forehead, your thumbs softly rubbing his cheeks in an attempt at comforting him.

When you pulled away slightly, he let out a little whine. He didn't mean to– he was ever so flustered. His cheeks under your fingers were hot, very hot. Like he'd never been kissed on the forehead by someone as pretty as you. You were sure he had, but it was cute to see him fumbling around like he hadn't.

“I really am sorry, I don't deserve this.. you being so damn sweet, when you should really just be yelling at me.. and in your own house, I'm such a-”

“For God's sake, could you shut up?” You blurted, your hand stilling in his hair.

He looked at you with big, wet eyes, almost like a kicked puppy, he looked like he was on the brink of tears. “But I-”

You saw those pretty shining eyes, and that blabbering soft mouth. And all you could think about was shutting him up yourself. You leaned in, the bow of your lips drawn against him in a slow, but nevertheless desperate affair. Andrew sobbed a little into the kiss, but held you close. He needed this, he needed you.

You were the first to slip your tongue into it, tasting his spit. He tasted like coffee and tears. Poor man, an insomniac and depressed. What he needs now is pussy. Plenty of it, to drown his sorrows in.

You kept devouring him, feeling his hands shaking throughout, yet incredibly needy. One hand landed on your thigh, and you fell into him, groaning needily.

God, he could feel the heat radiating from you. He pulled off your kiss-swollen lips and got at your neck, quickly finding the spot that drew you in. He spoke quietly, under your ear

“This good?” He whispered, eyes half lidded. He didn't even try to hide his boner, and you could feel his precum leaking out.

“Mhm..” you whispered reverently, moving his hand up your waist.

He fumbled while unbuttoning your shirt, quickly followed by your bra before he latched onto one of your breasts, needily sucking at your nipple while his hand played with the other one. You whimpered quietly, your hand immediately moving to his hair, fingers tangling in his brown curls. His lips moved to your other nipple, sucking it passionately while his hands travelled lower on your form, undoing your work pants after a bit of a struggle.

You tugged at his hair, leading him to where he was so obviously so very giddy to lap at. He looked up at you, heart eyes so pretty in the golden hour, but ever so feral. You met his gaze with a smile. He kissed a trail down to your clit as he inched both your panties and trousers down at the same time, moving down, licking a firm stripe up your warm pussy, then digging in, and eating you like a man starved.

And god, did he eat you out. Like he was made to. Eager and adoring, he worshipped you between your legs without even pulling away to breathe. His long tongue, soft lips, and nice big fingers— what else would he use them for? Yes, guitar playing, but he'd much prefer to play you instead.

His tongue worked at the lips of your pussy, nose dug into your clit, his stubble drawing giggles from you. It quickly became his safe space. He loved it. He'd always loved it, and he loved it even more now that it was you. His sweet muse.

And his favorite melody, out of all the love songs that he's heard, were your moans. A sweet crescendo, starting soft and shy, but loud enough for all your neighbors to hear by the time his fingers were inside you. You were his, all his. And everyone had to know that. They had to know that he was devouring your decadent body as it deserved to be.

His fingers curled into you, tickling the very spots that made you squirm and squeeze his face with your thighs. You returned his heart eyes before they rolled back.

You moaned so loudly, lewdly. A noise that you didn’t even know you could make. You felt a familiar knot in your belly, the feeling of it tightening only to suddenly snap overwhelming you.

“Fuck, you- Andrew, fucking- God!” You said, frustratingly riding the waves of pleasure running through you.

He looked up, eyes shining, still so very big and needy, but drowning in your orgasm, just as you were. He curled up next to you, catching your lips in a hungry kiss. When he pulled away for air, you smiled, in a way that you hoped he adored.

“You taste like pussy, Andy” You teased with a little giggle.

“Mm… Wonder who’s fault that is, angel.”

You giggled, kissing him again. His hands grabbed your waist and moved you so you were straddling his thigh, you ground against it, unknowingly rubbing his cock while doing so. One of your hands travelled lower towards his sweatpants, slipping under the waistband and wrapping your fingers around his cock. Slowly, you stroked it, the tip of it red and glistening with precum, poking out under his clothes. Your other hand pulled his top off, consumed with the need to feel his skin against yours.

He moaned softly into the kiss, pulling your hips firmly onto his thigh and making you hump it, you moaned in return, and he deepened the kiss. It wasn’t long until you felt him twitching in your hand, his hips buckling towards you ever so slightly, you were going to stop, you wanted him in your mouth before he could finish, but you were too late. He came on your hand and on his abdomen not long after, a thick pearly coating on his slight pudge. You broke the kiss, looking down at his lap and pulling your hand up to your mouth.

He looked into your eyes, and you returned it, almost asking for permission, to which he gave you a small nod and a smile. Your eyes focused back on your hand, still covered with his seed, and you licked it off, quiet, soft moans escaping you as you swallowed his delicious sin.

“Baby, look at me,” he commanded softly, his grip in your thighs tightening. You looked at him, his eyes full of love and lust. “Good girl, now look here,” he pointed at the mess of cum on his abdomen. “Look at what you did.”

“Sorry.” You said with feigned innocence, looking at him with puppy eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, my sweet angel.” He cooed in a patronizing tone, knowing you were putting on an act. “Just clean it up for me, yeah? Be good and clean up your mess.”

You nodded, sliding off his lap and onto your knees on the floor. You leaned in close to his tummy, his dick still hard even after his climax. He grabbed you by your hair, pulling you even closer, then, you started licking him clean, his happy trail tickling your tongue in the best way possible. You swallowed him, over and over again while he moaned softly. You slowly started to run your tongue over his cock, looking up at him with your sweet bedroom eyes. He gasped. He adored having someone suck him off after he's already come. It made him see stars, truly.

“Mmmm… you like this, sweetness? You enjoy cleaning me up after you made such a mess of me?” He cooed again, hands brushing through your hair.

You nodded the best you could while his dick was stuffing your mouth up. God, his sweet whimpers and words of encouragement. They really could kill you.

You swallowed him deeper, closing your eyes, trying your best not to gag. You ended up getting a little carried away, your nose pressed hard into his pubic bone, like a puzzle piece. There was a bulge in your throat. You decided to try something out and stroked it from the outside, looking to see if it did anything for him.

And God, did it do something. He let out a noise you thought was impossible. He was there, on the couch, legs spread, back arched as you were on your knees, sucking from the tap. He pulled your hair tighter- probably not intentionally so hard, but it's not like it didn't turn you on.

You kept at it, closing your eyes, drowning in those growls and whimpers. You'd think he was some sort of slut.

He gasped, and starting fucking into your throat, pretty eyes rolling back, legs shaking. After another few languid strokes, he came down your throat, basking in the way you enjoyed this, just as much as he did.

“Good girl, fuck.. your throat, fuck,. Jesus fucking Christ, angel… so tight, Mmm—!” He babbled mindlessly as you pleasured him. God, he adored you.

Adored you so much that he came down your throat. You choked on it a little, pulling back and clearing your throat. You smiled sweetly up at him, cum dripping down your chin, then kissed the tip of his cock, warranting another little burst of cum to shoot at your face.

“Such a messy eater…” He teased lovingly.

You were in the middle of a reply when he stuffed his cock into your mouth again, holding you there.

“Shhh, princess. Nobody's ever taught you to not speak with your mouth full?” There was a smile on his face. God, was he a vision… Cheeks flushed, hair the messiest you've seen it, hands shaking, stray drops of cum on his pale skin. You started to bob your head, but he stopped you.

“Two rounds of sucking me off in a row? I'm sure you get tired. So tired. How about I just do it for you… keep your mouth around me, and I'll take care of the rest. Is that okay with you, angel?”

You gave him those puppy eyes, humming happily as a way to say “yes”.

“Mmmhm? Okay, then..”

He started to fuck into you, a little bit sloppily, his hips bucking. He was feral, truly. He moved quickly, hyperventilating, a third orgasm threatening to happen at any time. He moved faster, fucking your mouth with a surprising amount of strength for a man that had already come twice.

But it became too much, and you had to pull away to take a breath, warranting a surprisingly bratty whimper for a man acting so dominant.

“Wha- Wha- FUCK,” He belted, shooting cum onto the floor, right onto your moleskin notebook, it wasn’t much, just what was left inside of him after the last two orgasms. Your hand was still wiping your chin, and your mouth fell open.

“Jesus, sorry, I didn't know-”

“I didn't either,” he said, irrationally upset. It took him a bit to calm down. He caught his breath as he leaned back on the couch. You got up and sat next to him, gazing up into his brimmed eyes.

“Andy, you know I wanted to swallow, I really did. I want it…”

He looked back down at you, gaze softening. He leaned to your level, grabbing your chin and opening your mouth, then, moved his head on top of yours and slowly let his spit flow from his lips and onto your tongue. You smiled, a little naughtily, and swallowed. God, that was hot.

“Mmmh.” You hummed.

“That's something to swallow, isn't it?”

He leaned in and kissed your tired lips tenderly, as you tangled into him, ending up a cuddling, naked mess on your—now, filthy couch.

He moved you to lay on his chest while he played idly with your hair, his nose buried in it as well, taking in your scent in the quiet evening. His other hand traced patterns on your back, his fingers dancing carefully over your skin, almost fearing you’d shatter like a porcelain doll just from his touch.

His lips pressed onto your forehead, giving you a soft, affectionate kiss that took your breath away for a second. You looked up at him from his chest, your eyes wide and adoring. “Hi,” he murmured softly, not really thinking about what he was saying.

“Hi,” you responded, making the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“This doesn’t feel real.” He whispered softly, still caressing you with all the love in the world.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“I never thought I’d actually get to hold you like this, to have been with you like we have.” He elaborated. “This was always more of a fantasy, I didn’t think it’d be real.”

“What, you thought I didn’t like you like that?” You asked, a bit incredulous.

“I knew you thought I was hot, I’m not stupid, I see how you look at me.” He sighed again, his arms tightening around you, his gaze avoiding yours. “But the… ehm, the extent of just how much you liked me was more than I thought it’d be.”

You smiled softly, your hand playing with his chest hair as you listened to him. His voice was like a melody in and of itself, every word he said a note in the symphony of your dreams.

“It’s just…” He continued, his tone even softer. “It’s like there’s steps to all this, you know? There’s finding someone attractive, then there’s wanting to- ehm, have sex with them, and then there’s just wanting to be with them, in every way possible…” He trailed off.

“Andy. What are you trying to say?” You asked, his eyes immediately focusing on yours the moment you finished your sentence.

“That I love you, angel, I have for a long time.” He finally confessed. You felt his heart speed up in his chest, he was so incredibly nervous.

“I love you, too.” You timidly whispered, then placed a quick, loving kiss on his chest. “You can calm down now, your heart is beating way too fast.” You added teasingly.

“Maybe a proper kiss will calm me down.” He teased back.

You moved carefully, crawling up to his eye level and kissing him deeply. He kissed back almost immediately, your mouths moving in tandem to make the perfect kiss. Andrew pulled back after a few seconds, his mind too crowded with thoughts to fully lose himself in you no matter how much he wanted to do just that.

“Let me take you out on a date, somewhere nice,” he caressed your cheek with his thumb. His voice little more than a lovesick whisper. “If not, at least let me call you mine.”

“Yes, to both.” You smiled, nuzzling your face into his hand.

“Good,” he kissed your forehead. “Sorry to change the topic like this, but I’m exhausted, wanna go to bed?”

You chuckled softly at the change of subject. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.” You argued lovingly.

“I had my fill with you already.”

“Then I guess we can go to bed, but I have to shower first.” You stood up from your cuddling position on the couch, watching Andrew follow suit not long after. “Maybe put a movie on my laptop and we can watch it afterwards?”

You looked up at him with begging eyes while holding his hand in yours, he smiled, he couldn’t say no to you, especially now.

“As you wish, princess.” He took your hand to his lips and kissed it playfully, a small giggle escaping you both. “Any movie in particular you desire to watch, your majesty?”

“Okay, cut it out,” you continued to giggle, “just choose one you like, yeah? I’m gonna shower.”

With that, you went to your bathroom to clean yourself up while Andrew went to your room and set everything up, including cleaning himself as best he could and fixing his messy, post-orgasmic appearance.

You came back from the shower after almost an hour, hair still wet, in comfy sweatpants and a tank top. You made your way to your room, waiting to see your angel. He sat there, in bed, scrolling on his phone, hair up in a messy bun. He looked nothing short of adorable— cleaned up nicely too.

Your laptop was next to him. It seems he'd already chosen a movie, Legally Blonde, for some reason. You sank next to him, leaning against his shoulder.

“You like chick flicks?” You asked, with a giggled cadence.

“Nothing short of modern masterpieces, they are.” He replied, starting the movie and letting your body adjust against him. You clicked, your arms the perfect length around his waist, your lips the perfect curve against his, your nose perfectly nesting into his pulse.

You fell asleep first. Fast asleep- not stirring in the slightest. He thought your slight snores and weird murmurs were adorable. He'd much rather fall asleep to those than any movie. He closed the laptop and set it on your bedside table, his long arms holding you tight into the late hours.

He ended up having the best sleep in a while— no thoughts of upcoming concerts or snobby dinners to torment him. You somehow made it all stop. In his busy world, you were his only constant. Something he wanted to hold close to and never let go.

——

Andrew adored your face. He saw it everywhere- the pure beauty of it. He saw your beauty in the Irish hillsides. He heard your voice in every old timey love song. Everywhere, everything, it was always you.

In the early morning, he found himself gazing at you again, a long finger tracing your cheek. He sighed contentedly, completely enamored with you. His limbs tangled further into yours. This went on for about half an hour— his sweet touches and comforting, soft kisses.

Your eyes fluttered open. Your first view of the day was Andrew cupping your cheeks, his head tilted. You smiled dorkily at him, your view still unfocused.

“Morning, sleepin’ beauty” He greeted in that soothing Irish lilt of his. You responded with a groan— giving him the opportunity to scoop you up in his arms, holding you to his chest. You giggled into the firm, warm body.

“Hey!” You grogged. He pulled you even further up, paving a path of smooches along your face, whispering sweet nothings.

“So pretty when you wake up, you know that? Sweet, sweet angel… and you're all mine…” he was getting lost in you, reciting all his best praise while you were barely away from the sandman.

It took a while for you to properly wake up. When the consciousness came, you returned his kisses sloppily, hand coming up to tangle in that messy brown hair.

The kisses got more desperate and messy as you went, desperate to taste each other, to catch up on everything you've missed. You grew a little dominant— even a little frustrated. You rolled him over, warranting a whimper, then pulled away, laying on your side next to him.

“You're so needy in the mornings.”

“Huh?” He whispered hoarsely, looking up at you with half lidded eyes.

“I said you're needy in the mornings. All kisses and sweet words…”

You got onto him, warranting a little ‘oomph’ to squeeze out. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, holding you steadily, groaning as your thigh brushed against him.

You put your thumb in his mouth, slowly grinding and watching as he sucked it at the same pace. The little pacifier kept him quiet, even when you were ruthlessly rutting into his growing hardness.

He looked up at you with shiny eyes before his head tilted to the side, giving you a full view of his beautiful, biteable neck.

You stop grinding for a second. You ached to keep staring into those lovely breaking eyes, “Andy, look up.”

He obediently gazed up at you through thick lashes, mouth biting your thumb a little. You kept going, watching as he tried not to lose his locked stare. His hand moved to your wrist, trying to pull to take your thumb out of his mouth, you shushed him in return, pushing it in a little deeper.

“Keep it in,” you ordered softly, starting to grind on his crotch once more. He listened, lightly biting your thumb to suppress his moans. “That’s it, good boy.” You added in a sultry whisper.

Andrew’s eyes shot open, you felt his dick harden almost immediately, the size poking at you through the layers of clothing. He pulled your thumb out of his mouth, his eyes dark with lust. His hands moved to your waist and threw you onto the bed, making you whimper.

You looked up at him as he moved on top of you, caging you into the mattress with his long arms. He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head with just one hand, then pushed his knee between your legs, smiling devilishly at you.

“Grind.” He ordered, his voice stern yet undeniably full of love for you. His thumb found your clit, tracing obnoxiously slow circles over it.

You obediently rubbed against his knee, the dual stimulation of his finger and your actions making your back mold into an arch. You struggled playfully against his grip, moaning softly as your hips moved.

You kept grinding, eventually losing yourself and collapsing onto him. “Awww, that's not all you have in you, is it, baby?” He teased, his grin widening.

“C’mere, let me treat you.” He spoke in a lowered octave, gently nudging you over, as if asking for permission to take you.

You let him guide you over, your eyes hungry, legs wrapping around his waist. He firmly kissed down the side of your face, sinking down to your clavicle, and getting to work, sucking at it for a good few minutes- summoning giggles that quickly turned to moans of pure desperation. When he finally pulled away, what was left of all the sucking and biting was a reddish purple mark that he blew on, the air sending a shiver down your spine.

“Was that okay, darling? I’m sure you have some turtlenecks you can wear for a couple days if you need them.” He continued to kiss down your body, his voice even more rough. “Though I’d rather you didn’t, the idea of you going out with my mark on display is so fucking hot.”

“I work at a library, I can’t just have hickeys on displa— FUCK!” Andrew sucked on your chest, intending to leave another mark while his hand had traveled down to your core again, only to insert two fingers inside you this time, thrusting away any words left in you.

He smiled as he pulled away again, blowing softly on the second mark he’d left, his eyes already scanning your body in search of a spot for the third and fourth ones, all while never stopping his fingers inside you.

His mouth found your tummy just as his thumb found your clit, you moaned loudly, trying to thrust into his fingers but getting stopped by the rest of him on his quest to mark you fully. Not like you’d complain though, you’d be lying if you said the thought of being marked by him all over didn’t turn you on.

The pattern repeated as he went lower, marking your abdomen a few more times while his fingers worked on you, getting you closer to your climax. He sucked on your inner thigh, leaving his last mark on you before replacing his thumb on your clit with his mouth, sucking on it while he fingered you still. You screamed from pleasure, your hands gripping the bed sheets as you felt your orgasm washing down on you in intense waves of ecstasy. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and your moans turned into whines, he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, almost making out with your clit before sitting back on his heels.

He put his soaked fingers up to your mouth, you welcomed them, sucking off your essence and making Andrew smile. He took one of your legs and put your ankle over his shoulder, straddling your other one in a way that made his cock perfectly align with your entrance. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, trailing them down in a path that connected all your hickeys and continued down your belly, pressing down on the weak spot right under your belly button.

You giggled, batting your lashes up at him. Truly, you wanted him to fuck you until your guts split, and the best way to get that would be to put on the innocent act— one that you had quickly learned was his favourite. Even if he knew it was little more than that.

He rubbed the tip of his cock over your soaked folds, watching as you tried to keep the little act up. And it was hard, when he was there, with his chest hair and stupid smirking pretty face. When his hair was in a side part, tossing every time he made a sudden move.

He pinned you down with his lean arms. He squeezed into you, feeling your pussy envelope him, squeezing around his cock in just the right way. He didn’t take the time to ease you in, quickly building the pace up, gritting his teeth. He fucked the woman he loved the most in the most feral way possible.

You loved this side of him, your body instinctively moving your legs to where he perfectly hit your g-spot with each needy thrust. You abruptly came after a few of these- making that your second orgasm.

But he kept going, and you kept laying there and looking so utterly fuckable. Legs spread, tits bouncing, eyes rolling back every time he hit your sweet spot.

“God, you're such a pretty thing. Wish I could just stay inside you all day, keeping me warm…”

He kept going. At this point, your eyes couldn't even keep open. Your nails dug into his back as he leaned closer to you, little half-crescents engraving into his pale skin. He was close to you now, chest sweat dripping onto your face. You could feel his hot breath and hear his beautiful moans, and feel the spit dripping out of his growling mouth.

You yelped as a strange sensation took you, snapping him out of it. You whined and wrapped your leg, that had now fallen off his shoulder, around his hips, practically begging for him to continue his thrusts. You didn't even notice at first— it was him who pulled out. He felt your squirt soak his dick, biting his lip, slapping his dick lightly to try and drain you as you squirted all over him.

“Jesus… You just do that, love?” He whispered lowly, dripping in shock— still incredibly turned on.

“No! I… I didn’t know I could…” You said softly, still trying to catch your breath.

He laughed and leaned in, kissing your cheek, “Well, I'm glad to be the one to help you find out, Mmm?”

He was silent for a few beats, then placed his hand tenderly on your cheek, “Are you okay? Can I keep going?”

“Please put it back in…” You begged.

He smiled. “As you wish, my love.”

He did exactly that, pushing back into you, getting lost in your body once more. Sweet moans escaping him as he chased his own release.

He felt his balls growing tighter, moaning in almost your key, his hot seed bursting into you. He gave you a big dorky smile, still slowly fucking in and out as his cock started to soften.

Andrew leaned in and kissed your face all over, still buried inside you, feeling your warmth around him, and, slowly, coming back to earth from the heaven that you’d taken him to. Your arms enveloped him lovingly, he melted in your gentle touch, his heart swelling with love for you. His eyes widened in a split second, realisation setting in.

“Shit, baby, I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t- christ.” He mumbled apologetically, caressing your face, “I’ll make it up to you, I swear, I didn’t mean to, angel.”

You looked at him, slightly confused as to why he was apologising so much.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, slowly getting your strength back.

“I didn’t put a condom on, I’m sorry, I completely forgot, I’ll go to the store and get you the pill.” He apologised again, his voice threatening to break from the nerves.

“Andy, hey, calm down,” you smiled, caressing his face with one of your hands. “It’s fine, I’m on birth control, stop worrying.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, smiling at you with loving eyes. “Thank God,” he chuckled, kissing your lips for a split second, “still, I’m sorry, I should’ve put one on anyway when I didn’t know if you were on birth control or not.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, taking the moment to finally pull out of you, swallowing your soft whines as he did. His cum flowed out of you, the sight of it making Andrew smile darkly. He went to your bathroom and came back with a washcloth, gently cleaning you up.

“The bed’s wet, love, want me to carry you to mine?” He asked, caressing your cheek with all the tenderness in the world.

You nodded in response, then felt his arms wrap around you and carry you to the guest bedroom he’d been staying in. He laid you on the mattress, you yawned, your legs exhausted. You had to admit, you always got so sleepy after sex. Your exes hated it— but Andrew found it so endearing. He gently tucked you in, kissing your sweat-slick forehead.

“You’re so beautiful, angel. Be a good girl and get some good rest for me. You deserve it.” You reached for him with grabby hands as he threw boxers and a big knit sweater on. He smiled at the sight. “I’ll be back, okay? I just have… something to do. Go to sleep for me. Please, angel.”

So, you— being the sweet, obedient angel that you were, fell asleep after just a few seconds. He got up and washed his messy hands, then got to work on your breakfast. He decided on pancakes. Which he was able to make into somewhat perfect hearts.

He put the pancakes, along with fresh berries, on a platter and brought them in after an hour and a half or so.

He placed them on the bedside table, then gently shook you awake.

“Wake up, love, I made breakfast.” He greeted, like he wasn't deep inside you two hours ago.

You looked up at him with a hazy stare, “You can cook?” You mumbled, looking at the plate.

“Of course I can cook. What other way could I have charmed girls?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, sitting up and placing the heated platter on your lap, “No idea.”

He sat next to you, snacking on some of your berries, watching as you ate. He was possibly the biggest loverboy in the world, obsessed with everything you did.

“What?” You ask, noticing his constant puppylike stare

“I don't want to go back to my house. I want to be like this. For as long as you'll have me.”

God, was he an angel. He really thought you'd grow tired of him?

“Then I think you'll be living in this shitty apartment forever, Andrew.”

“Forever?”

“Or until it finally falls apart and the building collapses on our heads, whatever happens first.” You giggled.

“In that case we could move to mine, then.” He suggested, smiling lovingly. “After the bug problem gets fixed, that is.”

“Be nice to the bugs, technically they’re the ones that brought us together.” You teased, kissing him gently.

“I’ll tell the exterminator to be gentle when killing them.” He teased back, returning the kiss passionately.

[neerons]

Some of Gilbert von Obsidian's best quotes

[Warning: Heavy spoilers about Gilbert's route]

"Ahaha, what is the prince of Obsidian, if not rotten?"

"I hate people."

"No matter how hard I try not to, I can't help but be gentle with her. What kind of villain am I?" (—Gilbert talking about Emma to himself)

"(...) I hope you don't accidentally end up calling me 'big bro' or anything." (—Gilbert to Leon)

"(...) You were just saying what you really think. I don't think doing that is rude. And it's true I'm someone scary."

"I like you because you're so warm, little rabbit."

"Ahaha! You're so sassy. But I like that about you."

"I want to make things awkward for you."

"You can't just focus on the best of someone while ignoring the worst of them."

"If you were a bother, I'd kill you, so don't worry." *smile intensifies*

"...I'm no match for that pure, innocent gaze of yours. You're the only one capable of pushing me around, you know."

"Depending on what you say next, I might just take your head clean off." (—Angry Gilbert to Emma)

"(...) You nearly died. ...Do you have any idea how much that chilled me to the core?"

"The only thing I can ever be for you is a villain. ...Unfortunately."

"...Thank you. I almost got murdered by some dust."

"If you keep on lying over and over about being fine, I might just... Well, you can guess, right?"

"I found it in a book in the little rabbit's room. They need to understand what happens to them if they try to interfere with what's mine... Don't they?" (—Gilbert talking about a poisoned needle targeting Emma to Roderic)

"You said it, remember? You said you wanted me to learn to love Rhodolite. To me, you are Rhodolite."

"Those born with status have the right to do whatever they like to those who are lesser than them. That's what you want to say, isn't it? (...) Hmm? What's that? You look a little distressed for some reason. But I suppose that's no surprise. You see, I have the right to tyrannize you however I please, just as you tyrannized those children who had no one to protect them. I'm imperial royalty, and you're just a third-rate aristocrat. So I'm going to have to teach you just how different our social positions are... Aren't I? (...) Aren't you lucky that we're in Rhodolite? You've narrowly escaped death. If this was Obsidian, you'd be dead for sure. After all, we have no need for disgusting nobles who defile the purity of children." (—Gilbert to a Baron of Rhodolite)

"Wait, so you're telling me you baked cookies for another man, even though I'm right here. Ouch, that hurts."

"(...) if by chance I run into your dear papa, he'll kill me." (—Gilbert talking about Akatsuki)

"Welcome to Obsidian. (...) I introduced myself as Gilbert von Obsidian, didn't I? There's only one person in this country allowed to use the Obsidian name. And that's the emperor."

"There's nothing about you or me that makes one of us intrinsically inferior or superior to the other. Humans are all basically the same. And naturally, from a societal perspective, we probably need people who can take the lead. People who are capable, and talented, who can bring others together, and build a better tomorrow. That's a healthy way to be. I'm the ruler of a country that knows deception and decay all too well, so I understand better than most. That's why my ideal, my ambition, is to conquer all the royalty that have infested this whole continent, and free the people who are under their control."

"I wrote that story based on you. (...) Akatsuki told me a lot of stories about you, and they were always stories about you showing love and affection for others. He made it sound like you believed that the true nature of people is love, and that the happiness of others was what made you the happiest. The idea of living like that was repulsive to me, but at the same time, it made me curious. I got to wondering what sort of choices you'd make, if you were in the same position I was."

"You were bullying small children to amuse yourselves. That Rhodolitian might have stopped at just punching you, but I'm not that kind. Did I make military regulations or didn't I? And do those regulations say attacking non-combattants is forbidden, or don't they?" (—Gilbert to Obsidianite soldiers)

"Then how about you call me papa?" (—Gilbert to Luke)

"...Don't go. (...) I don't know... if I can hold on... until you get back. Being on my own... is lonely..."

"...You're the only one I'll ever love."

"I'm taking your daughter." *smile intensifies* (—Gilbert to Akatsuki)

"I'm not oppressing you with my power, it's just my love for you, overflowing."

"You can't do things like this with other men... Unless you want to see dead bodies."

"You're liked by everybody. A lot of the princes helped you out today. That's because people adore you, and they naturally want to help you out. They're all beasts with strong characters, but you're important to all of them. Do you know how rare that is? That means you're charming to everyone you meet. ...Including me, of course."

"There's no way I'd ever let anyone else kill you. It has to be me."

"I can't just bare my body for free."

"I've never liked seeing you clothe your body in things that other people have put their hands all over."

"Don't force yourself to talk. I'm not so narrow-minded that I'll go around saying you're disrespectful just because you didn't thank me. You're sick; you're supposed to just drink medicine and sleep."

"Wah, boohoo. I can't believe we were on different pages this whole time. I've given you my entire heart, and yet, look at what you've done with it! (...) Waaah, I'm so heartbroken that the only thing that could bury my sadness is world domination!"

"For his sake, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear him call me 'eyepatch bastard'. Rude." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Silvio)

"Her ability to right what was wrong, purify what was once sullied... It runs at complete odds with my nature. I may have truly met my match." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)

"I blinked a few times as my vision seemed to expand all at once... and the little rabbit become clearer and even more beautiful." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)

"I'm never letting you go. If you run away from me, I'll conquer the whole world and follow you to the ends of the earth if that's what it takes. No wait... I just need to control your heart, so that you'll never even want to leave me." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)

"We all approach life differently. Chevalier slices hearts in two. I trample on them. But, you... You respect them."

"I wanted to see you bawling your eyes out."

"You're... the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"I like the little rabbit very much, you see. So I certainly hope that bold declaration of yours doesn't end up turning into a lie." (—Gilbert to Silvio, in Silvio's route)

"I'm not interested in the average woman. There's someone that caught my eye when I was young." (—Gilbert talking to Silvio, Rio, Keith, Sariel and Emma)

"You like these stories, don't you? Ones where a lowly village girl falls in love with a big, bad emperor and makes him change his ways—"

"It's a good thing I was born with a pretty face. If I looked scary without even trying, it would almost be TOO perfect."

"Keith, if you get tired, we can swap places. (...) Shame, Daddy says we can't." (—Gilbert talking about carrying Emma instead of Keith, but is stopped by Sariel)

"I was able to find some... treasure too, so I'm very satisfied with today." (—Gilbert most probably talking about Emma to the other princes and Emma)

"What? You'd like some new heads to decorate the castle's gates?" (—Gilbert to Emma telling him she wants friends)

"After a while of being betrayed over and over again, you start thinking to yourself. That maybe the world would be a better place if everyone who wasn't your friend just dropped dead."

"I know her. But only in fantasy. Because there's no way an Obsidianite royalty can have anything to do with a mere bookstore worker. (...) Die without meeting her? Or die after meeting her. Well, that's easy. I prefer the latter in that case." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)

"I tried to hold down my excitement as I knocked softly on the door. (...) The door opened softly, revealing a woman that was different from what I had imagined. Strange. I thought she'd be more childish looking based on his stories. Her eyes that looked directly at me were clear and devoid of any baseless optimism. She was clearly a woman, not a child. I smiled to carefully hide my surprise. (...) She's purer and prettier than I imagined." (—Gilbert's thoughts about meeting Emma for the very first time)

"Oh, I get it. You think I was with another woman, don't you? Ahaha, you get jealous so easily. But don't worry, I only see you.If it would make you feel better though, I could always kill each and every single woman that gets close to me."

"...And so we've decided to officially hold our wedding ceremony. Can we count on your blessing, papa?" (—Gilbert to Akatsuki)

"You're much more important to me than family, you know. (...) After all, you're still alive, aren't you? I wouldn't kill you no matter what you did."

"I really do love you. And it's because I love you that I want to look good in front of you, and hide the things that I don't want you to see." (—Gilbert talking about his health condition to Emma)

"Do you know how long I've been wanting to officially bind you to me?" (—Gilbert's thoughts)

"Oh, that hurts... I just wanted to shower my beloved fiancee with my love, but I guess you don't want to... I'm absolutely heartbroken now. I might just have to go out and conquer one of the neighboring countries just to soothe myself."

"You're my type of lady. Do you know why? (...) I, for one, enjoy the rebellious, sassy look you always have in your eyes. I feel this strong will— that you will never bow down to me. That even though you're terrified, you won't run away."

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hello there!

I woud like to know what do you think about Luna and Harry's relationship?

I think they have a beautifull bond

Hello 👋

Personally, I really like what we see of their friendship, and I kinda wish we'd have gotten more.

Like, Luna isn't Harry's closest confidante, that title goes to Ron and Hermione. She isn't his family the way they are, but Luna has a special place among Harry's friends — the understander. She is the character who sympethises and understands Harry's grief and trauma best and actually improves his mood in the books.

Since the onset, she was set up that way, with both of them seeing Thestrals when the others couldn't, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I'll also say Harry is more important to Luna, than Luna is to Harry, in the books. Since she has way fewer close friends than he does. (I don't think Ginny and Luna are particularly good friends) so it makes sense their friendship would mean more to her. But the way Harry cares about Luna is very precious to me regardless.

Like, at first he thinks she's wierd and Loony. I mean, Harry was told all his life that weird = bad at the Dursleys. But, Luna grows on him quite quickly, I think. He doesn't mind that she's weird, later on (which is what I'm going to talk about mostly).

He finds her odd creatures and tales engaging and is actually open-minded enough to listen to them and consider them. Even though he says he has no interest in asking her about nargles:

“Mistletoe,” said Luna dreamily, pointing at a large clump of white berries placed almost over Harry’s head. He jumped out from under it. “Good thinking,” said Luna very seriously. “It’s often infested with nargles.” Harry was saved the necessity of asking what nargles were by the arrival of Angelina, Katie, and Alicia. 

(OotP)

He clearly remembers and thinks about everything Luna tells him: “Yeah,” said Harry. His mouth was very dry. “It’s probably full of nargles, though.” “What are nargles?” “No idea,” said Harry. She [Cho] had moved closer. 

(OotP)

Like, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what they were, but Harry would've asked her what nargles are. Like, I find the phrasing really weird and underhanded cause, like, no one is forcing him to ask... and Harry, while polite, by OotP he doesn't go out of his way to be nice to people as much, so I do find it interesting.

Not to mention, he remembered Nagrals hide in Mistletoe from the one time Luna mentioned it offhandedly (and recalled it when Cho was flirting with him, for some reason). Contrary to him forgetting Ginny was possessed:

“Well, that was a bit stupid of you,” said Ginny angrily, “seeing as you don’t know anyone but me who’s been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels.” Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him. Then he turned on the spot to face her.

(OotP)

Even just after their first meeting, Harry is inclined to belive her, despight what Ginny and Hermione say about Luna:

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Harry, you can do better than her,” said Hermione. “Ginny’s told me all about her, apparently she’ll only believe in things as long as there’s no proof at all. Well, I wouldn’t expect anything else from someone whose father runs The Quibbler.” Harry thought of the sinister winged horses he had seen on the night he had arrived and how Luna had said she could see them too. His spirits sank slightly. Had she been lying?

(OotP)

He wants to believe she didn't lie becouse he liked her and her words about seeing the horses too comforted him. It's Hermione and Ginny who sour his opinion on Luna and whom call her Loony (Harry does too in response. I think I mentioned in the past Harry tends to mirror his friends, especially Ron, a lot).

He thinks the way she can be herself without a care is brave, and he really respects her for that and is even entertained by her antics:

“That’s her,” he said, pointing at Luna, who was still dancing alone, waving her arms around her head like someone attempting to beat off midges. “Vy is she doing that?” asked Krum. “Probably trying to get rid of a Wrackspurt,” said Harry, who recognized the symptoms. Krum did not seem to know whether or not Harry was making fun of him.

(DH)

Harry isn't making fun of Victor, nor is he making fun of Luna. He actually respects her and doesn't mind her oddities.

Harry could hear Luna’s ludicrous lion hat roaring amidst the Gryffindor cheers and felt heartened; only thirty points in it, that was nothing, they could pull back easily.

(OotP)

He likes Luna's silly lion hat, and it makes him more positive and hopeful about the game. Again, Luna is often associated with cheering Harry up.

Harry, who thought it most unlikely that Rufus Scrimgeour was a vampire, but who was used to Luna repeating her father’s bizarre views as though they were fact, did not reply; they were already approaching Slughorn’s office and the sounds of laughter, music, and loud conversation were growing louder with every step they took.

(HBP)

And unlike Hermione (and sometimes Ron and Neville), he doesn't feel the need to correct Luna or start arguing with her over everything that comes out of her mouth. Even when he thinks it's really unlikely. He thinks it's unlikely and bizarre, but he doesn't shut down the concept completely, the way Hermione would have.

And he speaks to Luna with respect to her views even when he disagrees with them:

Ron, passing them in the opposite direction, let out a loud snort. “Ron can laugh,” said Luna serenely as Harry led her and Xenophilius toward their seats, “but my father has done a lot of research on Gernumbli magic.” “Really?” said Harry, who had long since decided not to challenge Luna or her father’s peculiar views. “Are you sure you don’t want to put anything on that bite, though?”

(DH)

And he respects and appreciates her uniqueness and ability to say the uncomfortable truths out loud:

“She’s a bit upset,” said Luna. “I thought at first it was Moaning Myrtle in there, but it turned out to be Hermione. She said something about that Ron Weasley. . . .” “Yeah, they’ve had a row,” said Harry. “He says very funny things sometimes, doesn’t he?” said Luna, as they set off down the corridor together. “But he can be a bit unkind. I noticed that last year.” “I s’pose,” said Harry. Luna was demonstrating her usual knack of speaking uncomfortable truths; he had never met anyone quite like her. “So have you had a good term?”

(HBP)

He considers her tough enough to survive Azkaban with her own spirit and optimism:

“Then she’ll be in Azkaban, I expect,” said Ron. “Whether she survives the place, though ... Loads don’t. ...” “She will,” said Harry. He could not bear to contemplate the alternative. “She’s tough, Luna, much tougher than you’d think. She’s probably teaching all the inmates about Wrackspurts and Nargles.”

(DH)

Like, he really respects her, you know? And I think that's rare for Luna to experience.

He is protective over her as he is over all his friends:

An odd feeling rose in Harry — an emotion quite different from the anger and grief that had filled him since Sirius’s death. It was a few moments before he realized that he was feeling sorry for Luna. “How come people hide your stuff?” he asked her, frowning. “Oh . . . well . . .” She shrugged. “I think they think I’m a bit odd, you know. Some people call me ‘Loony’ Lovegood, actually.” Harry looked at her and the new feeling of pity intensified rather painfully.

(OotP)

“Hi, Harry, I’m Romilda, Romilda Vane,” she said loudly and confidently. “Why don’t you join us in our compartment? You don’t have to sit with them,” she added in a stage whisper, indicating Neville’s bottom, which was sticking out from under the seat again as he groped around for Trevor, and Luna, who was now wearing her free Spectrespecs, which gave her the look of a demented, multicolored owl. “They’re friends of mine,” said Harry coldly.

(HBP)

And he isn't as willing to be rude to Luna as he is to Ginny:

“Never you mind,” said Harry roughly. Ginny raised her eyebrows. “There’s no need to take that tone with me,” she said coolly. “I was only wondering whether I could help.” “Well, you can’t,” said Harry shortly. “You’re being rather rude, you know,” said Luna serenely. Harry swore and turned away. The very last thing he wanted now was a conversation with Luna Lovegood

(OotP)

He knows if he's dragged into a conversation with Luna it'd take precious time he doesn't think he has. But I think it's interesting how downright rude he's being to Ginny, but with Luna, he is swearing generally and just turning away instead of being angry at her. It's that calming effect she has.

And he just genuinely likes Luna and her company:

“How would you like to come to Slughorn’s party with me tonight?” The words were out of Harry’s mouth before he could stop them; he heard himself say them as though it were a stranger speaking. Luna turned her protuberant eyes upon him in surprise. “Slughorn’s party? With you?” “Yeah,” said Harry. “We’re supposed to bring guests, so I thought you might like . . . I mean . . .” He was keen to make his intentions perfectly clear. “I mean, just as friends, you know. But if you don’t want to . . .” He was already half hoping that she didn’t want to. “Oh, no, I’d love to go with you as friends!” said Luna, beaming as he had never seen her beam before. “Nobody’s ever asked me to a party before, as a friend! Is that why you dyed your eyebrow, for the party? Should I do mine too?”

(HBP)

He invites her to Slughorn's party on impulse. He likes talking to her (as friends, I don't think he likes her romantically) and yeah, Harry's more concerned with how he appears to others than Luna, that's the regret part I bolded. He doesn't want to look weird, but he doesn't actually mind that Luna is weird; he just cares about how he himself appears. But, as I said, I think he appreciates how Luna has the courage to be herself in a way he doesn't.

Luna had decorated her bedroom ceiling with five beautifully painted faces: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. They were not moving as the portraits at Hogwarts moved, but there was a certain magic about them all the same: Harry thought they breathed. What appeared to be fine golden chains wove around the pictures, linking them together, but after examining them for a minute or so, Harry realized that the chains were actually one word, repeated a thousand times in golden ink: friends . . . friends . . . friends . . . Harry felt a great rush of affection for Luna. He looked around the room. There was a large photograph beside the bed, of a young Luna and a woman who looked very like her. They were hugging. Luna looked rather better-groomed in this picture than Harry had ever seen her in life. The picture was dusty. This struck Harry as slightly odd. He stared around.

(DH) - this scene always struck me as super sad. While I like Harry's friendship with Luna, their friendship is more important to her than to him (same for all the other faces she painted). At least, Harry knows Luna well enough to know she's missing from just glancing around her room. (But he couldn't tell Ginny was "cut up" about him breaking up with her).

Luna is his go-to person when he's feeling like shit. When he feels raw and sad and has no idea what to do with his emotions, Luna is repeatedly shown to be the one to help him through his darker emotions the most:

Harry nodded curtly, but found that for some reason he did not mind Luna talking about Sirius. He had just remembered that she too could see thestrals. [...] But I’ve still got Dad. And anyway, it’s not as though I’ll never see Mum again, is it?” “Er — isn’t it?” said Harry uncertainly. She shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. You heard them, just behind the veil, didn’t you?” “You mean . . .” “In that room with the archway. They were just lurking out of sight, that’s all. You heard them.” They looked at each other. Luna was smiling slightly. Harry did not know what to say, or to think. Luna believed so many extraordinary things . . . yet he had been sure he had heard voices behind the veil too. . . . “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you look for your stuff?” he said. “Oh no,” said Luna. “No, I think I’ll just go down and have some pudding and wait for it all to turn up. . . . It always does in the end. . . . Well, have a nice holiday, Harry.” “Yeah . . . yeah, you too.” She walked away from him, and as he watched her go, he found that the terrible weight in his stomach seemed to have lessened slightly.

(OotP)

After a while, exhausted and drained, Harry found himself sitting on a bench beside Luna. “I’d want some peace and quite, if it were me,” she said. “I’d love some,” he replied. “I’ll distract them all,” she said. “Use your Cloak.” And before he could say a word she cried, “Oooh, look, a Blibbering Humdinger!” and pointed out of the window. Everyone who heard looked around, and Harry slid the Cloak up over himself, and got to his feet.

(DH)

And, I think it's because she has a personality and life experience that Harry in his grief just clicks with better. Ron and Hermione are both very verbal people. They manage their emotions through talking them out, Harry... Harry doesn't do that. He struggles opening up to people, and he tends to go quiet when he's upset (here & here). Luna’s quiet comfort, her ability to talk, and not to expect Harry to respond back if he doesn't want to, I think, just gives Harry what he needs to feel better and work through his emotions.

In many of Luna and Harry's conversations, he listens while she talk,s and she never pressures him to have something to say the way Ron and Hermione sometimes do (turning to him and prompting him to respond). And I think it's something that is very comfortable to Harry, who is not a very talkative person outside his head.

And Luna, doesn't treat Harry like he's the Boy Who Lived, she treats him like Harry straight away:

“Yes,” said Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes off Harry. “Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You’re Harry Potter,” she added. “I know I am,” said Harry. Neville chuckled. Luna turned her pale eyes upon him instead. “And I don’t know who you are.” “I’m nobody,” said Neville hurriedly. “No you’re not,” said Ginny sharply. “Neville Longbottom — Luna Lovegood. Luna’s in my year, but in Ravenclaw.” “Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure,” said Luna in a singsong voice. She raised her upside-down magazine high enough to hide her face and fell silent. Harry and Neville looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. Ginny suppressed a giggle.

(OotP)

She treats him the same as she treats Neville and Ginny. She mentioned his name because she knew he is, it's just Luna being straightforward. She doesn't really care he's The Harry Potter.

And that's something that's incredibly important to Harry, who just wants to feel normal. And it makes sense Luna, who is objectively not normal, makes Harry feel the normalcy and belonging he always lacks — becouse she's a walking statement saying "it's okay to be weird it doesn't make you a freak". Luna’s very existence is the most anti-Dursley you could be.

Not only is she a witch, but she's a witch who goes against wizard social norms. Petunia would have a heart attack from seeing Luna’s clothes and jewelry. And I think that's also something Harry likes about Luna, once he gets over the initial shock and what Ginny & Hermione tell him about her.

As for what Luna thinks about Harry:

I think she genuinely looks up to him in a way. She painted him in her friends mural, so she clearly appreciates his friendship and everything he does, and invites her on:

“I enjoyed the meetings too,” said Luna serenely. “It was like having friends.” This was one of those uncomfortable things Luna often said and which made Harry feel a squirming mixture of pity and embarrassment.

(HBP)

The embarrassment is for just how straightforward she is. Harry has referred to her as his friend by this point, but she constantly says the sort of things he'd never dream of saying, even if they were true.

So, yeah.

Again, they are not as close as the Golden Trio, but Luna has a unique position in Harry's mind that I find interesting, and I think their dynamic is fun. I think Harry understands Luna better than all her other friends, and that Luna understands Harry better than most characters in the series.

I mean, she does recognize him when even Ginny, Ron, and Hermione wouldn't have if they didn't already know it was him:

He led a party of warlocks into the marquee as Luna rushed up. “Hello, Harry!” she said. “Er—my name’s Barny,” said Harry, flummoxed. “Oh, have you changed that too?” she asked brightly. “How did you know—?” “Oh, just your expression,” she said. Like her father, Luna was wearing bright yellow robes, which she had accessorized with a large sunflower in her hair. Once you got over the brightness of it all, the general effect was quite pleasant.

(DH) - and Luna's fashion choices got a compliment from Harry! He's pretty judgmental, especially with weird wizard clothes (he makes fun of Dumbledore's robes regularly), so I trust him. She looked nice.

So, yeah. I like their friendship (and Luna, in general. She's probably my favorite female character in HP).

[overbaked-tkls]

Hey is there anyway you can possibly cook up a lee!chance and ler!Elliot fic?

thanks for the req! just to warn, there is a little mild in-round violence in this one also pre-forsaken chance participating in russian roulette is very briefly implied

(this is a sfw tickle fic! if you don't like it don't read it)

"... Are you being serious right now?"

words: 3,155 (they keep getting longer HHELP)

ler!elliot, lee!chance

summary: chance faces the 'consequences' of his riskiness, courtesy of elliot

--

After a rather difficult round, almost everyone who had survived got up from the table to get some rest during the intermission. Except for two, who stayed seated. One glared across the table with the intensity of a minimum wage employee, while the other sheepishly grinned back, eyes covered by their shades.

“... So you stopped running from Doe while you were one hit from death, last second… to shoot him? When you could have just kept running?”

“... It was a good idea in foresight.”

Elliot’s glare intensified. “No, no it wasn’t Chance. Not even a little bit.”

He tried another excuse. “Heheh, uh… It looked cool, though?”

“It looked like me having a heart attack, idiot. If I hadn’t had a pizza ready right then, you would have died.”

The sentinel shrugged, and the support facepalmed. “But we still won, didn’t we?” 

Elliot made desperate hand gestures, like it would get the message across any better. “You’re missing the point.”

“C’monn… Healing is your job, anyway.” The comment wasn’t meant as demeaning, but rather as a lame justification for a terrible decision.

Elliot’s mouth hung open. “Excuse me?” He laughed, incredulously. “Well, stunning the killer is your job. So why’d you miss?”

Chance laughed, waving a hand. “Pfft, ‘miss’. I didn’t miss, Elliot. My gun just didn’t go off.”

Elliot groaned, taking off his visor and throwing it at Chance as a makeshift projectile. “Same difference.”

They caught it. “Well- I don’t choose whether it does or not, y’know? It’s all up to Lady Luck.”

“And I don’t ‘choose’ to run around all day healing a gambler that puts their life in the hands of a coin flip.”

“Look, I’ll be more careful next time, I promise. Just for you, Ells.” Chance put the visor on top of his fedora. It looked stupid, but it was enough to get Elliot to look away and amusedly huff.

“You say that every time. How do I know you’ll actually honor it?”

Chance thought for a second before speaking. “I just will. Last round of the day is in twenty minutes, anyway.”

Elliot didn’t look convinced, unsurprisingly. 

“Do you really not trust me at all?” Chance flashed a confident smile, making the support roll his eyes.

“Whatever. Just… do better, Chance.”

“You got it!” 

. . .

Tails. Tails. Tails. Tails.

Chance tried to ignore the weakness that weighed his entire body down while fumbling with his coin. Of course he was down on his luck when someone actually needed assistance. More specifically, Elliot, who had gotten quite low on health. He subtly stalked the chase, peeking around the corners of Pirate Bay while avoiding the small patches of piranha-infested water. Which was… strangely murky to be a habitat for that type of fish.

Chance watched as the chase slowly turned desperate, Elliot pushing past his limit just to run a little longer from C00lkidd. There wasn’t any more time for waiting. Elliot did say to be careful, but… This had to be an exception, right? Even though it wasn’t ideal, he just needed one charge to fire his flintlock. And a prayer that it would work.

Tails… tails… Heads.

After getting a good angle to fire at, a sharp click pierced through the air, followed by a split second of silence. And then a very loud bang, that got both the killer’s attention and Elliot’s. 

The shot had backfired right in his face. Chance fell to the ground, trying to get his bearings through the searing pain. Unfortunate. It wouldn’t have been so critical if he didn't have the six weakness stacks, but he couldn’t even think about that as he heard approaching footsteps. Well, at least C00lkidd stopped chasing Elliot. The support must’ve slipped away.

It was quick. “Oh no! That looked like it hurt… You should take a break from playing for a bit.” The red child picked him up by the neck, giggling like it was merely a game of tag interrupted by someone calling a timeout. Chance kicked at him once, fruitlessly. “Hope you feel better soon!” C00l tilted his head and smiled, before snapping the sentinel’s neck.

Chance tensed as he opened his eyes, standing in the cabin. Fffuck. Not their best play, that’s for sure. It was okay, though. Just.. how it goes, sometimes. Seeing as there was nobody else in the cabin, he let his poker face fall. Must have been the first to die.

Without taking his shades off, he rubbed at his eyes– no matter how many times their gun blew up on them, they could never get used to the feeling. Even with the adjustment to how much damage it caused it was still painful, like being smacked in the face with hundreds of needles, all at once, and then being burned. Plus, whenever it happened and he somehow survived, he couldn’t feel anything above his chest for the rest of the round.

It hurt even more knowing his failure to stun the killer could be detrimental to some chases. Chance sighed. Poor Elliot…

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a jab into his lower back, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to startle him. It could’ve been anyone– the other survivors just ‘loved’ poking at him for his attention. But maybe that was his fault for zoning out while wearing headphones and shades. Throwing on his signature grin, he turned around. Speak of the devil. “O-oh.” Seeing who it was, Chance laughed nervously.

“... Heyyy Elliot.”

He was met with a deadpanned expression. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Okay, hear me ou–”

Elliot interrupted him, getting straight to the point. “Did you, or did you not promise you would be careful?”

“Well I had to do something! You were practically on your last breath.”

“Dude, I was doomed either way! It would have been better if you had saved yourself instead of adding another kill to the list.”

Huh. Yeah, maybe it would have been better. Oh well. “Okay fine, I admit I wasn’t thinking clearly. I apologize. Now lay off, will ya?” That was the last round of the day, so he wouldn’t have to worry about being in the sentinel mindset anymore. Gave him the slack to be at his normal seriousness; none.

“L– wh– LAY OFF?”

Chance chuckled, walking away from the other to get a little space before pulling out a coin. It wasn’t the same one he got in the rounds, but practically identical. Worked as a good fidget, when things got too noisy. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Elliot let the gambler walk away, but still scolded him. “Do you ever think about what the consequences of your actions are?”

Chance did. A lot. Just… almost never in the moment. Only in regret afterwards. 

He readjusted his fedora with one hand, flipping the coin in the other as he spoke. “Hmm… Nope! We all just respawn, anyway. Why trouble myself by overthinking if I can get away with everything most of the time?”

Honestly, Elliot didn’t know what he expected. He didn’t know enough about Chance’s backstory to understand why they were so careless all the time, but being around them was enough to get a slice of how little they thought before doing. Maybe he wasn’t worth arguing with– some things you just can’t change. “... Figured.” Elliot took a few steps closer, curiously. “Did you think like that before…” The support gestured vaguely around the cabin, despite Chance not being able to see it. “All this?”

The sentinel suddenly became quiet, keeping his back turned to hide any possible hint he was less than fully confident. Deep down, he knew that being so risky was what got him here in the first place– if he hadn’t been so desperate for thrill, none of this would have happened to him. Maybe it was all a reasonable punishment.

“Yes, but. I’d say it’s more of a lifestyle than a thought process. I mean… Obviously, I didn’t play with my literal life back home, like I do here. That would be, heh. Insane.” Chance hated how even that was a lie. Metal, pressed against the side of his head. The sound of a blank. Sliding it across the table. He quickly shook his head out of that thought. Not right now, focus on the coin. “But I like takin’ risks, y’know? Where’s the thrill in knowing the outcome?”

Elliot became a little worried from the response, even with how predictable it was. “... So essentially, you don’t care what happens to yourself in the slightest?”

“Not enough.” They said it boldly, only faltering when they realized how concerning that sounded. “–In the sense that the effects are minimal when something does happen, of course. Not that I don’t care about myself at all.” He quickly added on.

“Plus, I’m just too lucky for misfortune, what can I say?”

“... Sureeeee…” That last remark would have made Elliot laugh if it wasn’t so stupid. “Strange, coming from the person who died from their gun blowing up on them around ten minutes ago.”

“Well, I guess you should’ve healed me before running away.” Chance commented, cheekily. He didn’t mean it at all, knowing Elliot’s circumstances during the round, but it was still funny. To him, at least.

Damn, this guy was impossible. Elliot muttered a weak expletive. Instead of pointing out the obvious counterargument to the comment, he went directly behind Chance to jab him in the back again since it always seemed to bother him. The audible shift in posture Elliot heard as he walked away was enough, anyway. 

Though, he whipped his head around again as the sound of a coin clinking against the floor caught his attention. Evidently, Chance had dropped it. Despite the support causing the inconvenience, the gambler only softly grumbled without any actual worded response, quickly kneeling down to pick up the object. As Elliot watched him pick it up, he couldn’t help but think how strange it was. With so much practice catching his coin while running and the likes, Chance shouldn’t have dropped it. Was he that easily startled, or..? 

Elliot backpedaled a bit, curiously repeating the action while the other was kneeling, except slightly dragging his thumbs down Chance’s back before removing his hands.

Not only did the coin fall to the floor again as it fumbled out of Chance’s twitchy hands, but the sentinel noticeably flinched, his entire figure tensing. Reluctantly, Chance left the coin on the ground as he stood up to face the person behind him. “Elliot?”

After a second of staring at Chance, the support smiled, crossing his arms as he mimicked the other. “Chance?”

Chance scoffed, putting a hand on his hip. “Was that necessary?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Just don’t think I’ve ever seen you drop that coin before– wondering why you did just now.”

Chance’s expression froze, although still in his natural poker face. So he wasn’t just messing with him for no reason. Now he had to talk himself out of this. Or not, he was too glad Elliot had moved on from the concern to care. “I’m uh. Not as focused outside of rounds.” In his defense, it was half true. But not the main reason.

Elliot’s eyes narrowed in playful skepticism. Finally, something to go off of. “Focused enough to catch it every other time I’ve seen you fidgeting with it here, though.”

Chance yawned, like he wasn’t actively failing to fight how the conversation progressed. “Well, I can’t say you poking me isn’t distracting at all.”

“Why?” The visor-equipped survivor already knew he hadn’t dug his fingers in hard enough to hurt, so it was definitely something else. And he had a sneaking suspicion he already knew what. 

“... Elliot.” He was not about to answer that question.

Luckily for the gambler, Elliot would answer it for him. How generous. “Heh. Is it because your back’s ticklish, Chance?”

“Uhhh…” 

Huh. They didn’t exactly anticipate being called out like that. He wasn’t nervous enough to stutter, but also not confident enough to come up with a proper response. “Whaaaat? Nooo…” So much for being suave. He blew it, completely. 

It was surprising to Elliot– the other sentinels had tried tickling them before, only for little to no response. Well, other than an amused smirk, followed by Chance reciprocating with a LOT more success. Though it honestly made sense that only his back was sensitive. Chance’s entire front was probably octuple-fried by now from all those explosions, even with the magic patch-ups after every round. 

Of course, the gambler wasn’t just going to turn around for him, so after taking a second to study Chance's body expression to make sure he wasn’t uncomfortable, the support took a step forward and wrapped his arms around the other.

To say the least, it wasn’t exactly what Chance expected. Well, he didn’t expect any of this. Not to die so soon into a round, not to get questioned about his lifestyle, and not whatever this conversation led to. But that’s part of the thrill, he supposed– again, how would anything be fun if he already knew the outcome? Still, about two seconds after Elliot embraced him in what a normal context would be a hug, he suddenly found himself trying to squirm his way out of it. 

“Elliot plehease–” He protested, shifting slightly in the other’s arms. To an extent, Chance was kind of stuck– Elliot was being gentle enough that it would have been rude if they shoved him off, but also holding them in place enough that they couldn’t just step out. And he couldn’t decide whether he actually wanted this to stop or was just unused to this.

The support hummed, slowly running a hand down the middle of their back. “Huh?”

“Dohohon’t.”

Elliot snickered. “Please don’t what?”

Chance scoffed, but it turned into a wheezy laugh. “Not falling for thahat.” He instinctively tried removing Elliot’s hands with his own, but the positioning was too awkward. His arms undecidedly switched between being pressed a bit behind his sides and being slightly raised in front of him. If he had been thinking straight, he could have just gotten Elliot back, but. He wasn’t exactly used to being on the receiving end.

“Darn.” The pizza deliverer faked disappointment, tracing out a path underneath the sentinel’s shoulder blades. “Well, if you’re not finishing the request, I guess that means I can continue.”

“Nononohoho–” Chance objected again, his shoulders raising as he felt Elliot’s fingers glide downwards. Maybe having to endure frigid round weather wasn't the only downside of having such a suit with such thin fabric– this was a little embarrassing.

“Didn’t you say, like. Seven minutes ago, that you don’t care enough about what happens to you?”

“I wahas tahalking abouhout the rohounds!”

“This is about the rounds.” Elliot sighed, annoyed.

“Whahat?”

Did he forget? “Pfft- obviously I’m still mad at you for what happened, asshole!” Elliot slightly tightened his grip on the other, and slipped his fingers underneath where Chance had his arms pressed against the sides of his back. He didn’t do anything at first, just to make sure Chance wouldn’t writhe away from him, but then he started raking them up and down and occasionally alternating which side he did it on. 

“It’s just that now, you’ve given me an opportunity to get you back for it. Kind of you, by the w–”

Chance practically barked out a few laughs, before covering his mouth and pressing his face into Elliot’s shoulder. He grabbed the support’s other shoulder, pushing a bit before stopping himself.

Elliot tilted his head to the side a bit to accommodate the movement, chuckling a little. “You realize that does absolutely nothing, right? You’re laughing, like, directly into my ear. Quite loud, by the way.” 

Mistaking the remark for a genuine complaint, Chance turned his head slightly away from Elliot’s in response.

Elliot noticed the attempt, glancing at the gambler in his peripheral vision as he continued to lightly scribble around. “Oh, I don’t mind. I was just saying.” 

The sentinel let his arms fall from his mouth and the support’s shoulder respectively, leaning over so he was almost falling in the support’s hold. “EllihiOT IhIM soHoRRY–”

That was… a little hard to believe, for obvious reasons. “Areee you now? Or are you just saying that to get out of this?” Noticing how Chance seemed to stop pushing at him and pulling away, Elliot figured he could probably use both hands. Though, he held off from it temporarily.

Seeing as they only responded with breathy, loud chuckles, the support assumed he was right, and the sentinel wasn’t going to admit it. “Yeah, that’s what I th–”

“BOHOTH” … Spoke too soon.

Elliot stuttered in disbelief, both at the nature of the response and what he said. “D- Did you just interrupt me? Again?” He brought both his hands to do what seemed most effective before, gently but quickly dragging his fingertips right against where Chance’s back met his sides.

Chance hiccuped in between helpless fits of loud cackles, keeping his face pressed into the support's shoulder. The bit of hair in front of his face would probably be messed up after this. “I wAHAS JuHUST ANSWEHERING ThEHE QUEHESTION!”

Elliot tsked, slightly increasing his pace every time the other spoke. “Exactly, you weren’t supposed to.”

“UNFAHAIR.”

“Uh, no. Watching you die earlier was unfair.” Elliot paused his hands in between sentences, just to hear Chance’s voice rise and fall in volume.

“CaHAN’T wehe coMPROHOMIHISE?”

Ah, yes. Compromise, like that had gotten either of them anywhere. “Yeah, the compromise was that you would be careful.”

“OkAHAY! I sWEHEAR NEHEXT TIME IHILL DO BEHETTER–”

“... Somehow, I doubt that.”

Elliot’s hands stopped again as he felt Chance clutching his work uniform. Was he… hugging him back? Ehh, maybe he was just fidgety. Who knows.

He resumed, continuing to try and find any place Chance’s gun had spared the nerves of, until the sound of chatter from the next room spilled into the main one. The round had ended, and it was honestly surprising that nobody else had died other than them. Maybe it was just good fortune.

“Heheh, lucky you.” Elliot stopped, quickly rubbing Chance’s back a little before gently pushing him away. As soon as he did, Chance quickly leaned over himself and quieted as best he could, putting his hands on his knees. 

Eventually, some of the survivors walked into the main room, a few of them giving concerned glances over but nothing more. 1337 walked over.

“Is Chance alright?” The question was directed to Elliot, even though Chance ended up answering it.

“Ahall good, soldier! Just a… little tired from the round.”

Elliot and Guest both gave him a look (although of different sentiments), but neither said anything.

“Played too risky.” Chance added, smiling as he picked up his coin off the floor.

[xmintpiex]

Seduction Technique #1: Mouse Infestation - sfw, Sae Itoshi x gn!reader wc:~500

Another weekday night in your apartment, padding around the little kitchen in your favorite slippers as you decided what to eat for dinner. You could have leftovers…but that was boring.

There was one last pack of instant ramen but Sae's lecturing words buzzed in the back of your mind. Ugh.

You hated eating alone, why did Sae have to be so busy this week? Maybe you should just-

A little flash of brown across the kitchen tiles makes you jump.

A-A mouse?? Oh my god.

This was…

A golden opportunity!

Quickly reaching for your phone and moving to the sofa. Calling your beloved, dependable boyfriend, knowing he would always pick up by the second ring.

The phone rings four times before he picks up. (He was busy, okay?)

"What?"

"Oh! Sae! It's horrible, I think I saw a mouse! I'm soo scared!" (You had to ham it up a little bit, your Sae wasn't too good at recognizing pressing issues sometimes.)

"Yeah? Call an exterminator."

"…"

"…"

"U-um, but Sae, honey, don't you think that's um I dunno…a little drastic?"

"You said you were scared, and there could be an underlying issue. You have the card I gave you, just use that to pay."

"…"

"…"

"Y-yeah but um..I'm in my pjs! The little silky, um very REVEALING one that you bought me. I can't have anyone but you see me in that, right baby?" (Making sure that your sweet little pout is palpable through the phone)

"Then go change, it's not that hard to throw a hoodie on."

"…"

(M-maybe it was time to bring in the big guns..)

"I um well maybe I should just call Rin! He lives closer anyways, he'll help me instead.."

"Don't call Rin, he's scared of mice."

"O-oh really? I didn't know that.."

"Yeah."

"…"

"I'll hang up. Call the exterminator, okay?"

"W-wait!! Sae!"

"What?"

"I um I am just so scared! I think I would feel much better if you were here with me, baby.."

"I don't know how to handle a mouse, it would be better to call a professional like I said."

"Oh that's okay baby, you can just keep me company…you didn't eat yet, right? Maybe we could um order something together and have a nice night on the sofa and y'know…I haven't seen you all week, baby.."

"I'm still at the gym, you'll fall asleep by the time I'm done. Don't you have those leftovers to use up anyways?"

"…"

"Why are you breathing like that? It's loud."

"Sae!!!"

"You're mad. Why?"

"W-why?? WHY!?? I just want you to come over because I miss you and you're being difficult!!"

"Why didn't you say that in the first place? Is this another one of your weird mind games? I told you to just say how you feel."

"I-I thought it was pretty obvious!"

"Not really."

"…"

"..."

"S-say something, Sae!!"

"I'll be over in an hour, okay?"

"…….."

"30 minutes."

"Okay, Sae! Oh I can't wait to see you, baby! Love you!"

"Love you too. Bye."

Seduction Technique effectiveness: 7/10

[a-bright-comet]

Jade Shadows Thoughts

(NOTICE: I have edited this post after a few days and many lovely replies and tags giving me more insight and opinions, overall my view of this quest has gotten a lot more positive, thank you all <3) okaaayyyy I am utterly rattled rn lmao also made the mistake of looking at tumblr after doing the quest and as expected it seems to be a 50/50 of hating or loving it. so here are my personal thoughts, I am a little scared but talk seems to be civil thankfully. I can definitely agree on the sentiment that this quest needed more time, cause let's be honest the people hating this quest wouldn't be jumping to the things they're jumping to if Jade herself got more screen-time before the big drop, warframe's style has always been vague and never 100% straight-forward and I think that unfortunately hurt it a bit this time, as what they didn't show came off wrong to many people and while I sorta see why I disagree on some parts. I also feel like the quest kinda got a bit *too* hyped both by DE and the fanbase's theories, way too short, it deserved and needed to be a bit longer for it's special narrative. Jade kinda got a weird spot, both being the main focus alongside Stalker but also hardly explored. But let's be honest, most of the negativity is caused by this outside-circumstance alone. Now, what I absolutely disagree with is people insisting that DE was trying to say "bodily autonomy bad" or that Stalker didn't care about her and only the child, thing is I thought it was pretty fucking clear that she *wanted* the child in what little was shown and she was going to die no matter the outcome (thanks to the orokin to absolutely no one's surprise) and Stalker in his guilt for all she's done for him wanted to make sure that he at least kept this one promise to Her, cause She wanted it. she still had bodily autonomy in the fact She wanted this, she wanted the child no matter what. and she wanted stalker to protect her and the kid. And he did, like a true loving partner. DE has a long track record of being very autonomy-positive. A point they make time and time again is that ripping it away is *bad* and horrifying, the quest is a bittersweet tragedy, not a horror. Honestly there would be 0 issue if DE had given us a Jade-only quest before this one, I personally would've preferred it as well, she's cool as hell she deserves it. who knows maybe DE will see all of this and make prequel quests? we can only hope. I do not want to assume the worst of anyone or anything cause that's a miserable existence. Look I personally enjoyed the quest and get the feeling whoever wrote it did it out of some personal experience or sorrow, that's at least the vibe I got. It's a tragedy, but her choice was seen till the end, many women choose to still have a child despite knowing they won't make it, many also don't, that's why choice is important. and she did, she chose her child that she was having while likely forcibly infested and turned into a warframe. (also remember there are women on the team who likely looked at this.) there are some other iffy parts of the quest, (really should've been the drifter instead of the operator if they were gonna do that, but that's personal discomfort.) but overall I enjoyed it and open to explore the implications of a born-warframe-child and Stalker healing as they both grow together. These are my thoughts, and I can understand why people like or dislike this quest, but I think it's fine and just ended up in a very unfortunate spot due to outside circumstances beyond it's control. (sorry if any of this comes off as aggressive it is not my intention despite how riled I am by some folk online, I disagree with you but I do not hate you, I don't even know you.)

Her choice, His promise, Their light.

Thank you for reading my first ever text post about something I care about, not sure I'll be doing this again any time soon out of anxiety lol (Edit: and thanks to everyone responding to this post wonderfully, ya'll are great and have lessened my anxiety and have made me appreciate this quest more <3)

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

AY I CALLED IT! To the anon who asked me about it, we are getting a silly episode today :D

I'll be honest, that arc got me burnt out with all the theories and teasers. Sure was fun but man, it's like coming home from a party. Now I can take things easy. Well, hopefully since the Puzzles figurine already dragged me back to my corkboard, I have no idea what the Team's planning smh /pos

why not have a good ol' time today, huh?

(the following is my live reaction:)

hey 4, I did see Gaslight District and dude, it looks like a movie. like how??? glitch surprises me everytime.

oh yea, and also bc james half-jokingly said that he's stop voicing 3 if we didn't watch the premiere. I mean, I already was planning to, no worries there :)

oh the intro, it never gets old

😨 oh... my god... <- my organized ass

"hey, Four" sorry but the fact that they called him 4 🥹 and technically this would be 3's second time. everyone, write that down

(and I did say it too, huh?)

oh, you mean the microwave 4's grandpa (read: SMG1) gave away? /hj

*sonic voice* oh yeah, this is happening!

put me in coach, todo quedara bien chingón después que acabamos. ✨bellísimo✨ diría yo

Oh, maybe next time for your presentation, luigi

...and there it is 😌↕️

how much food did that fridge....? nope nvm. only in the SMG4 universe *cheesy laugh track*

gross, yes, but Mario ate way worse stuff before. he should be fine, I still feel bad though

can we take a moment of just 4 here? :)

done? ok good

wait... was that a callback to the infestation episode?

well, that makes sense

*concerned microwave noises*

OH GOD MEGGY NOT THE HAIR

welp lesson 1, chat: always tie all hair up before cleaning

there we go, one room down! ooh, ramen sounds nice

...wait, say that one more time? "you don't know what me and those chopsticks have been through together"?

oh god.....

Western Spaghetti, is that you?

don't mind me, chat. i'm just going to uh.... be in my pillowfort for a bit

we were so close, man 😔

c'mon bob, you can't keep hoarding like this

well, we found one of the chopsticks

WOAH 😦 Mario really did it... and he might puke, GO GO GO

AAAH HIT THE BRAKES

ooh.....

oh god, it's even worse

4, you already got knocked out cold once, we can't let you go through it again

same, 3 😔↕️ same

hey swag, just. just take the microwave bud. don't mind this.

"The Castle's had a good run." ....i'm sorry, what?

I need to pause this. I need to leave the room. Everyone, take 5.

*40 minutes later* ......I don't. what am I supposed to say?

the Team had Swag say "the castle had a good run, time to nuke it", LITERALLY have him pulling out the IGBP thumbnail? AND THEN gave 4 ptsd flashbacks? just like that???

everything in my core just sank through the ground and into my grave! why, team, why? dude.......

oh, 4 :( *head in hands* I know bud, ik

idk how 4 does it, man. i would've crashed the fuck out

*sonic voice* hey Shadow, long time no see :D

the rats too?!

ok fine, that did get a chuckle out of me

there's the chopsticks, maybe you should store them under your beanie or smth

I mean, Meggy, you've always been unhinged in a silly way ahlkg;kl

THAT'S HOW WE DO IT 👏 LOCK IN

........the frame's missing. "wha?" the boarded-up door, see?

did you really think that I, Ink, would not know every detail about my mortal nemesis, the boarded-up door? tsk tsk, ofc not. Not while I'm a theorist. Ha, working on reference sheets has its use, mhm

AGAIN WITH THE NUMBER 4, I'M ON TO YOU, TEAM

sorry, Swag, no nukey time!

STOP THE PRESSES. LOOK AT 3 DOING A CELEBRATORY HOP:

you did? good.

also yeah, 4 I feel you bud :(

For sure.... *IGBP war flashbacks*

oh the cafe, my beloved. one day we'll see you soon.

uh oh.....

well um.... eggdog's playing with beeg outside, right chat? (for my sake, please nod) /j

Congrats to PlatinumLightJJ for your art being featured at the end credits! 🎉 love the lighting!

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Man, what an episode, huh? A lot has happened over the past few days, especially bc of the movie, but nothing like another silly episode for our meme show :)

From the looks of it, we actually got a new writer on the Team! Please, everyone, give a warm welcome to Evan Besser!

Lovely to have you here, friend! Not that you're gonna see this, but we look forward in seeing what you will create. While it is our silly little meme show, it has a special place in our hearts because of how much we've connected during its powerful, exciting, and emotional moments. Of friendship, (found) family. Loss and change.

As Boopkins said in IGBP, love wins. Love always wins, and it's been true every time. I offer the best of luck to you 🎉

As for the rest of you (aka chat), Evan (he/they btw) may be on Tumblr, but I expect yall to be respectful to them, as we do for the rest of the Team. Please do not send harassment or push them past uncomfortable boundaries. This is a pretty chill community, simply remember to be aware and kind, okay? coolio 👍

Now with the pleasantries out of the way, let's talk about the actual episode! Admittedly, it caught me off guard that both Bob and Meggy occupied some of the rooms in the Castle. Bob I get it, sure, he lives in the dump, but Meggy does have her home. Then again, it's not 4's Castle, it's the Crew's. 4 just happens to own the property and live there. In some past episodes, Melony has slept over at the Castle instead of her apartment, so it's not out of the question. Plus, I could never imagine 4 rejecting them a place to stay if they need it. Once again, their Castle. (However.... *stares DIRECTLY at the unfinished 2nd floor*)

If it wasn't obvious already, I LOVE cleaning, and I wouldn't mind sitting through Luigi's presentation frfr. (And the episode had to be trash, yea ik.) And about the scene with 3 & Mario in the kitchen, I actually wanted to bring in a bit of behind-the-scenes from editor Star:

"Got a little surprise for SMG4 fans again! The extended version of my 1st scene for today's vid: Mario Cleans The House!" (clip shown below) — Star

I always loved the behind-the-scenes stuff and sharing it with you guys :) It kinda goes hand-in-hand with the moment 3 wanting to go back to his clean cafe. speaking of, I MISS THE CAFE SO BAD.

Speaking of that scene, it was indeed a funny bit of 3's plan of shoving a bunch of spoiled food into Mario ADJL;'LJK. Not the best plan there, bud. (and yea, I'm allowed to say is as someone who's friend-shaped 😊↕️)

I do love the callback to the infestation episode for Bob, I appreciate that, idk how to describe it. And I'm not sure if the Team intended this or not, but I also loved the subtle callback to Western Spaghetti and Meggy's attachment to certain materialistic things bc of her past, I totally get it. And her eventually throwing the chopsticks to the bin, I actually didn't mind it.

Yall might come at me with pitchforks but it was kinda similar to how 4 was in the Mario PC episode. 4 was given a choice to accept a deal to save his past work, and he immediately declined. In some way, he learned from IGBP, not fully but it's a big step in the right direction. Same here with Meggy, she was very attached to those chopsticks bc, like she said, they've been through a lot. Like her beanie given by Wren. But she saw what it truly meant and decided to move on, dropping the sticks in there. Again, a step.

Then, there's that door. What a coincidence that as soon as 4 said "where are we supposed to put [the trash]", the door is right there in the background. Hmmmmmmmmmm, istg the Team had this door out to get me. TEASING US. *shakes vengeful fist* we shall meet again, my mortal nemesis….....

And now, probably the whole reason yall are here for, let's talk about 4:

It is absolutely insane that the Team did that! Not just ptsd anymore, they outright say it in the show, "hey, remember when this happened to you?" I still can't wrap my head around it. Regardless, I did feel SO bad for 4. ik how Swag is, gotta love him, but BUDDY, YOU CAN'T SAY THAT! :(

4's already suppressing his trauma and guilt from IGBP. He blames himself for the whole incident when he was possessed for most of it, he lost his home the first time. Ofc he's terrified of it happening again, of losing his home the second time. Honestly, If I were him, I would've pushed all the trash and everyone out the door, and then curled up in my bed for the rest of the day. With everything he went through, I wouldn't be able to handle it. "oh, I can just nuke it like I did in the most traumatic moment of or life, it's a lost cause" <- you would see me on the news. And ofc he wouldn't do what I would do, he's 4.

He somehow held back, still doing everything he could to save it. And y'know what would make it worse, if this was the first time 4 learned that the Crew was willing to nuke the Castle while 4 and the rescue trio were still in there. Not that I blame the Crew, it was possible for the red monster to spread across the kingdom and put everyone in danger. But it is a bit messed up that the Crew didn't warn them to get out of there before they did the act. idk what to think man..... regardless, that's a post for another day.

Back to the topic, 4 definitely belongs on my "saviors in blue" list. And ofc, adding it in as more proof to the horus eye/glitch segment of my theory:

His left eye is in the frame, the true side of him. Unlike in WOTFI 2024, it was with his right (his perfectionism side) when Puzzles brought back that ptsd the first time. One where he was scared of the incident happening again, the other's a reminder that he was the "cause" of it happening.

Now there has been some talk about about how his perfectionist side slipping through the cracks and seeming like he learned nothing out of IGBP. I suppose I should bring in my thoughts into this (yea, you can get your pitchfork ready 😔). I do love when 4's guilt and trauma come back in moments like these, and as co-ceo of the goop!4 theory, I can appreciate it with a "HELL YEAH".

The in-universe explanation I can provide of his perfectionism is that he's a content creator. All he wants is to entertain people and make them happy, ofc he wants to deliver the best of his work out there. Also, as a Meme Guardian, it's a part of him and his duties. But realistically, it's sometimes like that. As someone dealing with ptsd myself, those old habits/traits that caused the incident slip through in what we do. The least we want is for that incident to happen again, we'd go through extreme panic if we're remotely close to it, but we sometimes do said traits unintentionally.

For a person like 4, who has been suppressing all of it for a long time, it would be harder for him to recognize them immediately. And like in the Mario PC Virus episode, that was very paralleled to IGBP, 4 didn't have the same hesitation. Sure, he wasn't dealing with a life there, but he did learn. Up to now, like in the past arc, he prioritized his friends more than anything. Even if he was injured. It's understandable why he's dealing with his ptsd in an unhealthy way, even if it isn't right. I can see why people may have fixed feelings about it, but those are my thoughts.

The not in-universe explanation is the change of writers. Not that it should be an excuse but it's hard to pick up the pieces, as someone who works in production.

*sigh * yea, if you want to push me down the stairs, you can 😔 /lh

Well, that's all for me, folks! Sorry it took so long to get this out haha. I knew some of you were looking forward to my reaction, especially bc of 4, but it's sweet to know that you guys care what I think, so thanks for sticking by me 💙 It's good to see the silly episodes again after a month of theorizing. Anyway, I'll catch you on the next one and remember: numbers always go first!

.....the Team really wants me to finish the goop!4 theory website, don't they. /silly

[lovestory]

i haven't really felt like opening tumblr at all this year, but it was obviously very moving when i saw taylor's post about her masters, and i thought of this community immediately. i thought about the day when we found out scooter had bought the masters initially, posting about it, and taylor seeing those posts we made on here. i feel pretty inclined to share this with you: i got a new job, i started last week - and it pays more than double what my last job did. i'm the in house graphic designer for a huge commercial construction company now, they take really good care of me, and i've dropped out of uni because i have found success and love for design again. i didn't even know opportunities like that existed in the small area i live in, and i definitely didn't think they'd choose me.

in january i made the decision to leave tumblr. aside from a general disinterest and struggling massively with my mental and physical health, i was just tired. being treated the way i was online since before i even turned 13 was exhausting. i had people in my inbox when i was a minor sending me sexual messages and begging me to post my prom pictures, people making "gossip" blogs about me, people sending me my address, people sending me three part messages about why they hate me. whenever i'd say i hated this kind of behaviour, people would blame me for not turning my ask box off. last year in particular i'd dealt with a couple of stalking incidents and completely closed myself off from people contacting me on here. but instead of respecting that, i would just have other blogs get anons about me. one day i saw a mutual get a message about me, and half the shit they were saying just wasn't even true, and i'd just fucking had enough. i just wanted to step away and be a fan in a different way for awhile and try to focus on getting better. consume content and think what i thought without people arguing or making vague posts in response.

i moved out of our rental in april. as we were moving out, it led to the discovery that the entire house was infested with black mould that had been painted over/covered up when it was renovated. this mould was making me incredibly sick after living with it for so long, my entire body was covered in hives every day, i couldn't breathe, i couldn't keep my eyes open, i felt awful. our new house is finished being built, they're just doing the landcaping. i can't explain how sick i felt every day, and what a relief it is to not be in that kind of pain anymore, and to not be renting anymore.

i've always felt like i was working harder than everyone else just to compensate for the fact that i'm me. it was so liberating to walk in for an interview and know i had exactly what they needed. it was so liberating to be offered so much money for what i do, no arguments, no telling me that they couldn't afford to pay me decently. i nearly gave up on graphic design, i loved it too much to let it be ruined. i'm not afraid to say that i'm good at what i do anymore, i approach my work with confidence. for six years i've worked as the only employee for two separate businesses, being paid worse than anyone else i know, and i'm so relieved to be working with people again - talking to people my age. the isolation was killing me.

it makes me emotional looking at my blog as an archive now, i am so proud of all the little things i made over the years and what i contributed. being a fan of taylor was my life for so long and the only thing i held onto to keep going, i love the records of hers that i have, i love the memories, i love that she used to see my posts. and i'd be lying if i said what the fandom has turned into hasn't turned me off from participating. i will never return to tumblr in the capacity i once was, but if i ever get a thought or an itch to make something fandom related, i'll post it. i guess it felt important to share how drastically, a lot of you have followed me for over 10 years now. i really had to push myself to bring myself out of where i was stuck, it was really hard. but it's okay now.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 79

Jaskier and Geralt have confessed and gotten together, and Jaskier couldn't be happier. It's like a dream come true, being able to kiss Geralt. Jaskier learns that Geralt isn't a big fan of PDA, a tad troublesome for him, but he'll learn and grow to be a better lover for his witcher! He just might forget and try to kiss him a few times before it actually stays in his noggin! However he also learned that Geralt.. Doesn't like talking about them in public. Or insinuating them in public. Jaskier can't even make dirty jokes or ask Geralt where they should go out on dates. Geralt hisses for him to stop talking about it and glances around. Jaskier has been longing to eat at this one fine restaurant in a crowded town for months, and they have a chance to! There's a table still open! With a vase of flowers, and candles, and a dark red tablecloth, and they're sat right next to a small stage where the performers play! Jaskier goes to sit down, only for Geralt to drag him out by the arm, saying that they can't eat there. Jaskier is of course asks if there's poison in the food, or a monster infesting the eatery, only to get a grunt. "Really, Geralt, why can't we eat there?" "We just... Can't." Jaskier just assumes the owners must be some sort of witcher-hating pricks who tried to... To sell Geralt their daughter in exchange for wanting him to kill something that doesn't need to be killed or... Or some other really hateable things. A pity, he's heard amazing things about that place.. But all is well! Soon enough, they head to an inn, and get settled in a room. Jaskier tries his best to seduce his boyfriend, but Geralt just glances around their room and shakes his head. "Not now." Jaskier shrugs, and heads down to play for some coin, and perhaps get a bit tipsy for the fun of it all. He wakes up the next morning with quite an awful headache, and a very annoyed-looking Geralt. Jaskier apologizes for going overboard with the drinks, but Geralt huffs and says that isn't what's upsetting him. What upset him is Drunk Jaskier telling people that he and Geralt are together. But come onnn! Everyone's been saying "The bard is fucking the butcher" for over a decade! Surely some villager's account of a drunk bard saying the same isn't worth all the fuss Geralt is making over it. Another night, Jaskier is sat by the campfire, idly strumming his lute. "Annnd even though today I had to hide in a tree~ I love my witcher, and my witcher loves me~" Geralt suddenly loses his focus and turns sharply to Jaskier. "That's a new song." "It's not a song, I'm just making things up for fun." "So it's not in your song journal?" "...No?" "Good." 'Good'? Jaskier could just play it off as another one of Geralt's teases about disliking his music, but something about this in particular made Jaskier feel nauseous. A week or so after that, Jaskier has finished his set and is excitedly skipping off to meet back up with Geralt when he overhears some conversation from where Geralt is sat. "Your bard sings well!" "He's not my bard." "No? I thought I heard you two were together." "No. Acquaintances at best. Hardly know him." Acquaintances at best? Acquaintances? Jaskier knows Geralt has been offput by the idea of telling people they are romantically involved, but he couldn't even muster up a 'No, we're just friends.' He's STILL not a 'friend'? That's when it clicks for Jaskier. Oh. Geralt's ashamed of him.

Is it because he's a man? Would Geralt be proud to show off his lover if his lover were female? Is it because of Jaskier's looks? He's been told he's rather attractive, but perhaps he looks quite small and delicate beside a witcher. He didn't think Geralt would care for such things, though. Perhaps it's his personality. Maybe the lighthearted remarks between the two of them were more barbed on Geralt's side than Jaskier at first thought. Maybe Geralt really hates his singing, or how much he talks, or how often he turns things into an innuendo. Is he just some quick fuck in the woods? The second they hit civilization he's not even a friend? Jaskier slips back up to their room, completely forgetting to let Geralt know where he is. Oh well. If Geralt gives a shit he can sniff out Jaskier's perfume. For now, Jaskier is going to curl up in their bed and try not to cry. Jaskier and Geralt have confessed and gotten together, and Geralt couldn't be happier. It's like a dream come true, being able to kiss Jaskier. But Geralt has to keep in mind how many enemies he has out there. Personal, blind hatred based on his reputation, blind hatred based on him being a witcher, the list goes on. Geralt worried for Jaskier enough as it is when they were best friends. Geralt would be powerless and completely devastated if anyone were to take Jaskier. Geralt would be putty in their hands if they so much as threatened the bard's life. Now that they're lovers? Geralt cringes to think at how many people would be chomping at the bit for an opportunity to kill the Butcher's one true love. To use him as a hostage for Geralt to do their bidding. For them to torture Jaskier in the hopes of learning things about Geralt. So Geralt makes a plan. He'll keep Jaskier at an arm's length whenever he thinks anyone could see or hear them. It's exceptionally hard not kissing the hell out of his bard whenever he feels like it, but he must practice restraint in order to keep him safe. Jaskier keeps making it harder on him, though. Kissing him, wanting to go eat at some romantic place, telling every soul he can how much he and Geralt are inseparable soulmates who can't live without one another, all in front of so many people. Any one of which could be just too loose-lipped. Any one of which could lead to a snowballing effect that ends in his beloved Jaskier's harm or death. Geralt just can't wait until Winter comes. He plans on bringing Jaskier with him, and they'll be able to do whatever they want the entire winter, with no fear.

[algea]

Ghoul School

prompt: you, Lucky, Phoebe, Trevor, and Lars go to investigate a spirit infested school, but ends badly for you.

Ummm basically enemies to lovers?? idrk tbh LOL

warnings: idk scary stuff? cussing! sexual tension! um you smoke 1 cigarette and thats it. GORE!!!!!!!

a/n: I’ve been thinking of this since I saw the movie…

*THIS IS A SUPER LONG STORY!!!*

“A school? Are you serious, Lars?” You mutter, running a hand down your face and sighing.

“I wish. What’s your grudge against a school anyway?” Lars said, cocking an eyebrow at you as he turned to look at you.

“Well I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that kids still go there. It makes me sick how they have to experience that while being in an environment where it’s supposed to be safe and welcoming.” You explain, tapping your fingers nervously on your desk. Behind you, Lars sighed,

“Well that’s why we’re going innit? So stop worrying about it so much.” You snapped your head when heard the door open. In trudged a slime covered Trevor, Lucky, and Phoebe.

“Lars, I need your help with something!” Lucky called. Lars stood and strode to her, his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than they should’ve. Trevor had a proton pack on his back, which was slightly smoking from the interior.

"Piece of shit only fizzed when we tried to turn it on, know a way to fix it?" Trevor asked, gazing up at Lars. Lars' face was stone cold, probably because he had to deal with the dumb shit Trevor stirred up.

"First off, it's not a piece of shit. Second off, did you even try to figure it out?" Lars scoffed, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl.

"Give it to me, I'll see what I can do." He sighed, obviously not wanting to deal with him anymore. Trevor basically shoved the proton pack into Lars’ arms, which didn't waiver when he received it. Hot. You thought. Lars trudged to his station and set the proton pack down. He removed the protective covering, and coughed when smoke blasted in his face. You snickered, which earned an unimpressed glare from him. Lucky appeared beside you, ready to talk about what else you've come up with her to test.

"What is it?" She asked, tinkering with the item on the desk.

"You know how there's buckshot for a shotgun? I've figured out how to compress protons into little pellets and create a buckshot-type stream." You explained, showing her how it would work on a sheet of paper. You heard Lars muttering about something, though you brushed it off. You handed Lucky a few pellets, which contained about 12 rounds of buckshot each. She eagerly shot off into the test room, excited to try it out. With nothing else to do, you shuffled behind Lars, peering over his shoulder to watch his hands work efficiently. Lars really didn't know you were there, truly he didn't. So when he turned around to go get something from his desk, he jumped back.

"Good Christ you scared the shit out of me!" Lars exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest and letting out a big sigh. He shoved his glasses back up his face and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to watch you work..." You trailed off, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

"Well maybe next time maybe fucking keep to yourself." He snapped, brushing past you, his hand grazing yours. You just stood there, hands clenched and cheeks burning in embarrassment. Phoebe stood next to you, putting a hand on your arm and whispering,

"It's ok, really, he doesn't mean it."

You couldn't help the tear that slithered down your cheek. Blinking away the rest of the tears, you muttered an 'excuse me' and walked outside of the lab. Taking a left, you headed through the doors to the cool breeze outside. Stuffing your hand in you pocket, your hand found purchase on the cig case you had. Sliding one out of it and grabbing your lighter, you lit the cig up and shoved the lighter back into your left pocket. You sat against the wall and pulled your knees to your chest. Hearing the doors open, you see Trevor walk out. He spots you and slides down the wall, sitting next to you.

"It's not your fault. It really isn't." Trevor offered, watching you let out a sigh, smoke going with it. You laugh, dragging a hand down your face.

"Listen, don't ever fall in love, man. Shit sucks." You sighed, resting your head against the cool brick. Trevor started to say something but the rest of the three burst through the doors. Lars was wearing his red jacket, walking towards the car. Lucky was carrying yours in her arm, right on the heels of Lars. He spotted you and Trevor sitting down against the wall. Trevor hopped up, offering you a kind hand. You took it, cigarette still in hand.

"Put that shit out." Lars commanded, crossing his arms. You glared at him before taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out. You dropped the rest on the ground, twisting your foot against it which successfully put it out.

"Happy?" You huffed, throwing your arms out in surrender. He just stared at you before pushing past you to get to the car. 'Bitch' You mutter under your breath. God he’s insufferable. Following them, you hopped into the passage seat. Lucky handed you your red jacket, which you put on before you buckled up. You zipped it up all the way burying your face in the collar. Lars watched you from his peripheral, drumming his fingers on the wheel.

“Are gonna stare or drive the goddamn car?” You snapped, turning to gaze at him. His hand tightened on the wheel and started to drive.

To say that Lars was a good driver was a pretty big overstatement. You were even lucky you made it to the school alive, much less in once piece.

“You are never ever driving again, Lars.” You said, stumbling out of the car as a wave of nausea hits you.

“Stuff it.” He replied, pushing up his broken glasses. You turned your gaze to the school, which stood ominously in the distance. You shivered, which didn’t go unnoticed by Lars. He took a small step closer to you, his hand ghosting the small of your back. You jumped slightly at his feather touch, but relished it. Lars flicked on your switch, making your proton pack hum with the familiar ‘whirring’ sound. You walked to the front steps, pushing open the two massive double wooden doors. You were blasted by a cold air, which you stumbled back from.

“S-shit.” You muttered, hands shaking ever so slightly. You reached for your flashlight, but froze when you saw a shadow figure dart through the darkness.

“Lars.” You whispered, a lump forming in your throat. Lars was off busy helping the others get their packs on, which meant you were the only one at the front. You felt something tugging you forward. You stumbled back into the school following the tugging sensation to a room downstairs.

Lars looked up, about to ask you something, when he noticed you were gone.

“Where the bloody hell did Y/N go?” He asked, looking around. His question was answered when he heard your frantic screams coming from inside of the building. They all looked at each other, then bolted to the building.

The building was absolutely freezing. That you were certain of. The frigid temperature fucked a little with your head, at least that’s what you can conclude. You found that being able to see in the dark was not your forte, which caused you to fall down a flight of stairs.

“OH FUCKING SHIT—!” You screech, tumbling down the stairs. You landed with your head cracking against the cold floor. Groaning, you tried to lift your head, but you felt like you were spinning like a top. You eventually stood, swaying slightly after. You blinked a few times, holding your head in your hands. In the corner of your eye, you could see another shadow figure. It was tall, tall enough to reach the ceiling. It started to approach you, but you let out a scream, starting to run back up the stairs. You felt a push, then you tumbled back down the stairs, smashing your head into the pavement again. You landed on your knee, successfully snapping the bone in your shin. You let out another bloodcurdling scream, spitting out blood in the process.

You felt lightheaded as blood spilled from your shin and lips, dribbling down your chin and neck. You were in too much pain to cry as you crumpled to the floor again. You heard all three of them yelling your name, but you couldn’t yell back. Instead, you pulled yourself across the floor, leaving a long streak of blood as you went. With as much effort as you could muster, you pulled yourself to the steps. It took everything for you to scream,

“LARS!!!”

Footsteps could be heard, which sounded like heavy boots clomping towards you. You clawed at the steps, trying to grip anything that you could to pull yourself up. The blond man appeared in the doorway, shining a flashlight down the stairwell. Lars hair was tousled, eyes wide. You make out how he was panting, as well as a horrified look painted across his face.

“oh my god.” Was all he said. He rushed down the stairwell to get you. You couldn’t make out much of anything, you kept fading in and out of consciousness. His hands, his strong and elegant hands held your face as he tried to keep you awake. Your breaths became labored again as you felt extreme pain rippling through your limbs. You let out another scream, which was muffled by Lars chest as he picked you up and started to rush you outside. One of his hands found purchase in your hair, gently stroking it with his thumb as he ran to the car.

Lars felt like it took years to make it to the hospital. His red jacket was drenched in your blood, but he couldn’t care less about what he looked like as he rushed you into the ER. Immediately after, you were rushed into a room, where you would reside for God knows how long. Lars sat next to Lucky, his face grim. He didn’t care how long he had to wait to see you again, just as long as he could see you. Lars stayed there all night, into the morning to be able to see you. When they told him that he could see you, he ran to your room as fast as he could. There you laid, eyes closed, face peaceful. When you heard the footsteps, you opened your eyes and found the blond man standing in your doorway.

“Bloody hell, I thought I’d never see you again.” Lars breathed as he approached your right side. Your hand lay limp on the top of the bedsheet. He brought up a chair and sat, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

“I was so scared that you were going to die, I couldn’t bear to see it.” He further explained. You smiled weakly and croaked,

“Are you being nice right now? That’s so unlike you Lars.”

Before you said anything else, Lars pressed a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t your ideal first kiss with him, but you relished the feeling.

“I didn’t save you because I thought it was the good thing to do, I saved you because I love you.” Lars whispered, his nose brushing yours.

“God I love you too, Lars.” You whispered back.

[perseidlion]

So I am a certified Catwin shipper. I have written a series that currently sits at 90k words that is casefic but also them getting together. But I am also a multishipper and have written some Payneland stories as well.

So I was understandably quite happy to hear we would've gotten Catwin in S2 because I love the dynamic and I love Lukas Gage and his performance.

But it has made me very sad to see how some people are genuinely upset by this news. I don't think it's justified, frankly. People are doing a lot of filling in the blanks, guessing, and supposition. Just because Catwin would have happened doesn't mean Payneland wouldn't have. Also, we have no idea the context in which all of this would have gone down.

It's important to remember that The Cat King also went on a journey and changed as a person throughout season 1 (as did all the characters.) He is not the same person who slapped the bracelet on Edwin when they first met and not just because he died and was resurrected.

He's matured, settled and grown. It's very possible this arc would have continued. Even if you hated TCK in S1, you may have come to love him in S2, or at least hate him less. Redemption arcs are great fodder for stories and I have no doubt the writers and Lukas would have done that kind of arc justice.

Or maybe Edwin would have had his hot girl summer and TCK was the same old lothario. In which case, he'd definitely be no threat to Payneland endgame. This scenario would make me sad for TCK because he does seem to have genuine feelings for Edwin beyond the sexual, but that was certainly a way they could have gone with it.

My point is, we're missing a lot of context. If you were to take plot points of S1 out of context as well, it would be very hard to envision the final product.

I mean:

Niko gets infested with dandelion sprites that nearly kill her. These sprites manifest with cartoon sparkles around her head and they feed on attention. When they get out of her brain, they're tiny snarky humans she keeps in a terrarium.

Jenny gets set up by Niko with a quiet librarian who turns out to be psycho killer stalker.

People jump off a lighthouse and get swallowed up by a giant angler fish who is siren-ing them to their death. Their ghosts linger, and this annoys the ghost who mans the lighthouse so he hires the boys. Charles yeets the Night Nurse into the fish, and inside she has a talk with an oddly calm and optimistic man. Oh, also the fish is called Angie and she didn't do any of this maliciously.

My point is, this show is camp. That's part of the charm of it. Camp plotlines sound absolutely wild when you distill them to one-liners. When you add in inciting incidents, context and character interactions, these turn from wacky scenarios into full, entertaining stories.

Please don't catastrophize based on crumbs! Whether we get a S2 or not, it's really not worth getting that worked up over. We can't draw conclusions based on what we've been given. It's all guesses, and it could have changed a million times before the episodes were finished.

Also please don't get upset at Catwin shippers for being happy about this. We just wanted to see more of Lukas and George interacting. Most of us are Payneland fans, too and understand that would be the most likely endgame.

[highladyluck]

Wheel of Time, Season 3, Episode 2 (second watch) Liveblog

Elayne like "This is the largest gay bar in the world, please don't take me away"

Emotionally Intelligent Lan never fails to jumpscare me lmao

I already said this but I do need to reiterate: Galad would not fuck

I like that we see Morgase's accepted ring like, first thing. Also those maid headdresses that look like approximately one-fourth of a swan has been applied directly to the entire head? They're very good. Very intimidating. Very high fashion.

I'm now watching to see if Elaida has the bracelet this early- hard to tell tho.

So. I was not a huge fan of the Lannister lean-in thing they did with Morgause on first watch. But I've seen some commentary that has reconciled me a bit more to it- one is that people were going to make the comparison between Andor's whole vibe and Game of Thrones anyway, so they called it to mind deliberately but contrasted it with Morgase's slightly more strategic/principled(?) motivation. This is the kind of thing that RJ did with the first 200 pages of EotW and The Fellowship of the Ring- deliberately echoing the more familiar property before going in a different direction with it- so it's not like that's a new-to-WoT tactic. The other bit of commentary that has influenced me is the argument that it sets up some really juicy stuff for Elayne to work with later in her succession plot.

Elayne is so cute when she lies through her teeth

Siuan waiting a very precisely calculated amount of time to let them in lmao

Siuan is WEIRDLY smiley re: Lord Gaebril considering her mood moments before…

This is obviously because of the letter Elayne sent, but I honestly don't know why Elayne told Morgase she was kidnapped if she didn't want to get hauled home. Maybe to drive home the Seanchan threat?

I forgot who I first thought the people in the ways were, but I was totally wrong. As we find out later, it's Alanna and Maksim, but yeah, wtf are they doing in the Two Rivers in this turning? Still hunting for novices?

Yeah that was a significantly long pause for Elayne before she acknowledged Gabril

Mat looks good in green :)

If only we had someone who could fix mind diseases! [thinks about Mat in Graendal's clutches] NEVERMIND NO ONE NEEDS THERAPY

The implication of 'honorary great serpent ring' is that Morgase didn't have to go through the Arch(es) but honestly since they don't require channeling and are a character/commitment test similar to [SPOILERS FOR LATER IN THE SEASON] I've always headcanoned that Daughter-Heirs of Andor who went to the Tower actually took the test. But maybe it's seen as too risky for them to actually take it? I'd certainly buy that in this universe.

Elayne like "This is the largest gay bar in the world, please don't take me away"

Emotionally Intelligent Lan never fails to jumpscare me lmao

I love the contrast between the Aiel 'save and destroy' and the WT 'save or destroy' here; it's less of a stark contrast in the books but I think it's a really interesting nuance to dwell on and fits with the overall themes of encoutering different perspectives and the subjectivity of history/prophecy. Also I love Avi talking duty with Egwene and Moiraine, just like, on principle.

These landscapes holy shit

At least we know that Marin is the kind of person who would hide people in her attic

Alanna, Perrin used to live here. What the fuck are YOU doing in the Two Rivers?

lmao once you get an Elaida infestation it's hard to get her out

ooof. I bet Siuan is thinking in terms of another Darkfriend attack on the Tower re: Min's visions.

Mat, you absolute dumbass [derogatory]. That said, Clara is super hot. "I think everyone is into this kind of thing, Mat" - excellent line delivery Nyneave

Awwwww is Nyneave wearing Lan's ring around her neck? Or her great serpent ring?

"And is the Lion Throne under threat?" damn Nyneave is killing it this episode

Rand you cheating ho

I already said this but I do need to reiterate: Galad would not fuck

I knew immediately that someone was gonna catch Elayne vamping with the crown and I was preemptively embarrassed for her I hate that Gaebril is charming I hate it I hate it (it's very good) Galad is always serious oooof not Gareth Bryne :( High-Functioning Alcoholic Elayne T_T I buy it but it hurts me

THE MAT AND SIUAN SCENE IS PERFECT. Also it sounds at the beginning like she's got him as a guest on her early morning tv show/interview podcast and that always makes me laugh. I really hope that she and Mat get to meet again because they were so fun to watch together.

And now for another scene of masterful manipulation! GO GO ELAYNE

Elayne: "My path will always lead back to Andor." Me: '-through the circus.'

Lan listens but you aren't fucking talking, Rand

Lmao I'm enjoying the barely veiled threats in this Morgase & Siuan confrontation

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

hi! sorry if you've answered this already, i tried to search your blog and didn't find much, but we all know the tumblr search function is...uh...but i'd be deeply curious to hear your thoughts about Stephenie Meyer's "The Host," specifically re: treatment of the issue of souls' colonization and possession of other species...and obviously, since i'm asking you, an animorphs blog, this, my curiosity is definitely coming from a place of comparison to animorphs, but that doesn't have to be your focus!

from the posts tumblr's search algorithm did grant me, i gather you see it as wanda unlearning the colonizer's propaganda stance she takes at the start of the story, which i agree with!

but i guess every time i read it, i really can't help but feel...unsatisfied? with the way it actually engages with the horrors and colonization of it all?

sort of like, okay, The Host is this one very individual YA romance story in a sci-fi setting, which is obviously different from a heavily-Star-Trek-inspired middle-grade series about guerrilla warfare and is going to grapple with these issues differently...but still! i don't leave feeling satisfied with how it engages with consent of "host" bodies the souls are in, and i don't feel satisfied with how it engages with the souls' systemic behavior!!! but i can't really put my finger on why, and i just...was curious, i guess, whether this was something you had thoughts about.

(full disclosure: i'm asking you specifically because one of my HUGE points of existential dread on my first adulthood reread of The Host was how Jodi never wakes up, and her boyfriend just starts implied-dating the soul who's in her body? or how kids who are infested from birth are just...gone, and they were like "well sweet we can just put Wanda in there, this is a perfect solution!" and that I think hit me so hard in comparison with having read Eleutherophobia--which is, by the way, a masterwork of fanfiction that wrecked me, overwrote canon a little bit in my brain, and I think fundamentally changed how I see the possibilities of writing and narration, so, you know. thank you for that!)

(also like, i know there's different worldbuilding where it's implied most hosts just...go away...but do they actually? because Mel and the Seeker's host are still there, which kind of implies to me that it's more of a problem than the souls want to admit?! and even outside humans, all the memories, and compulsions toward certain behaviors are still there! what makes a person in this universe of Meyer's?! it's kind of fundamentally horrifying?!)

apologies for this extremely long ask, haha, and i hope you're doing well, love your blog, your writing, and all your thoughts!

Oh my god, ALL OF THIS. I thoroughly enjoy the first 98% of The Host. It's a romance novel about consent! Where the characters have to struggle to resolve the plot in a way that gets the permission of everyone in the love quadrangle to boink everyone else, and spends over 500 pages doing exactly that! It's anti-imperialist as fuck! It's got an amazing supporting cast, like every Stephenie Meyer novel! The imagery is unparalleled in its richness and coolness, because Stephenie Meyer! I've written fan fiction about it! I have an extremely normal relationship with Kyle O'Shea!

And then Sunny. And then Wanda's unnamed second human host.

I think that Meyer, either because of romance genre conventions or pressure from publishers, felt she had to write a happy ending. But the book does such a good job of setting up an unresolvable moral dilemma — either Wanda gets to be with Ian, or she does the right thing by giving Melanie's body back — that there is no path to a happy ending. If Ian did as Wanda asked and sent her in a jar to some other planet, romance fans would feel cheated. If Doc did as Melanie asked and let Wanda stay in her body, then the book's anticolonial message would be for nothing.

But resolving it through PARASITING A KID IN A VEGETATIVE STATE? What if Doc makes Wanda a nice robot body? What if Wanda stays in a jar, but Ian finds a way to join her in the jar? What if she and Melanie set up a time share? Uuuuuugggggghhhhh. The Host was THIS CLOSE to being the best anticolonial novel ever written, and then falls on its face inches from the finish line.

Which, aside, is the reason I don't think Animorphs would ever work with a happy ending. "Happy" for the protagonists would never be morally okay in the bigger story.