#I’m so over work I need a break so goddamn badly

[fettuccin-e]

Patience Long Gone

Kinktober Day 4: Thigh Riding

Tags: Joel Miller x Reader, afab!fem!reader, thigh riding obviously, praise, dry humping (yeah that's right nobody gets naked), Jackson!era, Joel talks dirty yeah I said it (w/c: 1.1K)

A/N: Ayo first Joel fic and it's during Kinktober ofc. I have been reading too many Joel fics to not partake in the old man thirst okay. And also have you seen this gif??? I want to ride that man's thigh like its a rodeo okay!! (For the month I have been following this list by flightlessangelwings!)

He can’t fuck you like he wants to, not right now. And God, Joel wants to, so badly. But there’s no time. There’s never any fucking time.

He hadn’t minded the hustle and bustle of Jackson when he and Ellie first arrived. He’d been grateful for the distraction, for the feeling of being useful again. He’d been grateful for the patrols, the odd repairs around town that didn’t require any socializing, content in his solitude with Ellie safe and sound within the town’s walls.

And then he’d met you. Sweet, soft, you, that doesn’t take any of his bullshit, forces him out of his shell with your sharp wit and endless patience. You, who Tommy introduced to him as the town veterinarian, until you became so much more. You, who asked him to fix your doorframe so, so sweetly, and not five minutes into his work, dragged him into your home and into your bed.

He never truly left.

But there’s no time to treat you like he wants to, fuck you like both of you need. There’s always something else, a threat at the border, an emergency in the stables. He hasn’t seen you cum in weeks, and the thought makes him shudder. He has the most beautiful woman in this entire godforsaken world, and he can’t even find the time to make her feel so fucking good.

It’s one of those few moments where you both are home, exhausted but not nearly tired enough to sleep. You’d crawled into his lap like a damn cat, planting yourself on his thick thigh, all languid grace and allure that has his cock aching in his jeans.

You curl two fists into his shirt, pulling him to your lips, and fuck, this is nothing like the stolen kisses you share in the spare moments you find with each other. This is water in the desert. This is life, not just survival. You’re so fucking soft against him, you scent invading his nose.

“Missed you,” you breathe between kisses, “Missed you so much, Joel.”

He groans, curling his fingers into your hair. He licks softly at your bottom lip, begging wordlessly for you to open for him. You do, without hesitation, and moan in a way that has his head spinning as he licks into your mouth. 

“God, sweetheart,” he grumbles as you break apart for breath. “You’re so goddamn pretty. Missed you too, sweet girl, been missin’ you so fuckin’ bad.”

He lets his hands explore you, roaming down your back, up under your shirt to feel that soft, soft skin. He paws over the curve of your ass, and he can’t help but smirk into your mouth as your hips buck forward.

“Needy,” he drawls, but he pushes on your ass again, making your hips buck forward along his thigh. Fuck, it’s good, the way you moan so pretty for him. “You wanna cum, pretty girl?” he croons. You nod so hard he thinks your head may fly off, but you seem to think better of it far too soon for his liking, shaking your head, as if to dismiss the very thought of chasing your own pleasure.

“I’m supposed to help Maria- fuck,” you curse as he leans down to sink his teeth into your neck. “I’m supposed to help Maria with the horses, Joel.”

“She can wait,” he growls, and he pulls on your hips, dragging you up his thigh. You keen involuntarily, the seam of your jeans pressing so hard, so perfect into your clit. “Just want you to feel good, wanna make you feel good.”

His voice is dark, a rasp that has your pussy soaking through your panties. He’s so big, so broad, and his thigh is providing a kind of pressure against your cunt that you haven’t felt for so long. It’s too much of a temptation for you to ignore. You pull your hips back again in a slow, sure drag, before humping back forward. You tuck your face into the crook of Joel’s neck as you let out a high-pitched whine.

“Good fucking girl, sound so pretty for me,” he murmurs, “Don’t that feel nice?” 

You nod frantically into his skin, hands fisting into his shirt so tight your knuckles go pale. You hump your hips forward, again and again and again, moaning as your clit throbs in your panties. Joel’s grip remains tight on your hips, helping you along, pressing you down harder. Your head swims, tears springing to your eyes.

“Need to cum,” you gasp, wriggling your hips in desperate little grinds. “Need to cum so fucking bad, Joel, fuck- I’m, I need it, ah-” You feel desperate, needy, unable to string together a sentence is you hump Joel’s thigh like an animal.

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, grumbling and wonderful. “I’m gonna make you cum right now, okay sweetheart? And when you get home tonight, I’ll be here to do it again and again, right baby?” The thought has you aching, desperately humping into his jeans. You’re so close, you’re so fucking close.

“I’ll lay you down in our bed, sweet girl, and I’ll eat that pretty cunt out like you deserve, fuck, haven’t tasted you in so fucking long.” Joel pulls you along his thigh as he speaks, flexing the muscle underneath that makes the pressure so much more devastating. “And then I’ll sink my cock into your pretty little pussy, fuck you full of me, baby. I’ll keep stuffin’ you full, make you cum so much you soak the sheets through, and I’ll just keep goin’, right baby? God, I’ll make sure you can’t fuckin’ walk tomorrow,” he snarls his words, a violent, primal promise that has your body quaking in his hold as you cum against his thigh.

You sob with the force of your orgasm, curling into Joel’s solid body as he holds you through it, cooing into your ear how good you are, how gorgeous you look. It’s like you can’t suck enough air into your lungs, trying to get ahold of yourself again. Joel never lets you go, holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

When you finally regain control of your breath, your body, you can only tilt your head to his lips to kiss him softly, gently. 

“You didn’t get to cum,” you whine, and Joel chuckles at how forlorn you sound. His beautiful, perfect girl, so caring, so doting.

“Trust me, sweetheart,” he grumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “When you get home tonight, I have plans for both of us that’ll have us wrung fuckin’ dry by mornin’.”

[dearsnow]

TWO MONTHS

- work is taking a heavy toll on your boyfriend. (patrick verona x gn!reader, angst and slight fluff, established relationship)

word count: 657

a/n - another patrick fic :) i love him so much it’s not even funny. he’s my current hyperfixation- that being said, to all my patrick lovers out there, i’m planning a 3 part series for him <3 it’s called the summer before senior year and hopefully i get around to finishing it lol

Patrick closes the door to your apartment with a heavy sigh. The day rests heavily on his hunched shoulders, leaking through his pores as grease and dejection. You stir from your place on the couch. It’s 12:24 AM, and he is just returning from work. His hair is messy, tied up in a frizzy ponytail, and his eyes hold no sparkle. He doesn’t look like himself anymore. Your brows furrow, the weight of his condition nearly bringing tears to your eyes.

“Pat, it’s past midnight.” You murmur, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands. There is a smudge of dirt on his face, which you wipe away with delicate fingers. He melts under your touch. “This isn’t healthy.” He takes both of your hands in his, kissing each one gently.

“I have to.” He grimaces. “Rent’s gone up, baby. You know that.” You lead him to your bed. The sheets are messy, as they always are. In his exhaustion, he does not care; not like he ever did, anyways. “The boys at the car shop offered me this, and I took it.” It hurts you so badly to see him like this. He seems flat, dull, lifeless. Nothing like the Patrick you met, and nothing like you ever wish him to be again. You need him to be happy. He deserves it, if nothing else. He deserves everything good- he deserves the sunshine and tender love and a quiet kiss of calm, but you can only offer him so much.

He lays back, and you pull the sheets over his chest. “I can take a second job.” You say, tracing circles on his chest. He’s too tired to take off his clothes, and you won’t force him to. He’ll be out of the house by 5:00, and he needs all the sleep he can get. He shakes his head at your suggestion, looking at you with soft eyes.

“You have college and the diner already. You’re stretched as thin as you can be.” He whispers, threading his hand through yours again.

“I still have free hours. Not much, but enough to get you some proper rest.” You manage to say. The bags under his eyes speak for themselves. He’ll end up dead if he keeps working like this. You can’t do this without him, any of it. If he dies, if he ends up in some hospital being fed by the few coins you have left dripping through his veins, you wouldn’t be able to handle it. You would gladly work every hour of every day just to see him healthy again. That isn’t realistic, though, and you know it. He’ll never let you take on that burden. You love him for it, but sometimes, his stubborn nature takes hold of him.

“No. This works, what we’re doing. We’ll be fine.” His voice is scratchy and low, but with just enough force to let you know he means it. When he looks at your face, eyes shining with unshed tears, his heart shatters. He kisses your hands again. “I promise, baby, we’ll be out of this soon enough. In two months we’ll have the money to take a break for a little bit. I’ll work lighter hours and we might even have enough saved to take you out on a proper date.” He smiles. You laugh quietly, though the sound is choked. Hot tears force themselves out of your eyes.

“Two months.” You repeat. He nods. “Two long ass fucking months.”

He starts to laugh, slowly at first, until you join. You wrap your arms around him as you giggle into his chest, and his whole body is shaking with the force of his snickering. 

“Two goddamn bitches of months.” He offers, still grinning like a madman. He laughs, and you laugh in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, you think that things might end up working out.

Taglist (misc): @skeletonfromthecloset

[frvnkcastles]

TOGETHER AS ONE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: After the events of season 2, all Frank needs is some care and a hug, so you tend to his wounds and hold him tight.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, description of physical trauma

Word count: 1k

Author’s note: I am really blown away by the attention my two other fics received and I’m definitely more inclined to keep posting here now :) I think I will post more PTSD-related works but for now, here’s this short-ish one about Frank receiving some love.

Ps. I’m totally up for receiving Frank requests!

The bathroom reeked of coppery blood and you wondered when exactly you had developed a stomach strong enough to avoid gagging at the smell, when exactly you had become immune to the horrors displayed all over your lover’s body. Well, physically, at least. Emotionally… you weren’t quite sure you’d ever get used to this.

You were both silent apart from pained grunts and huffs from Frank when you helped peel off his sweater, no longer black with all the dirt and blood it had gathered — barely even in one piece, with slashes all over his arms and back. You were seated behind him on the bathroom floor, gently tugging on the fabric until it was tossed near the door and you could assess the damage done to him.

You choked up, tried to swallow the lump in your throat while your shaky hands ghosted over the dozens of cuts, stabs and swelling bruises across his shoulders and back. You dreaded to even imagine his chest, but for now, you focused on what you could see. You so badly wanted to suggest a hospital, but considering he had barely managed to break out of one just days ago, you chose to say nothing. Some of the stitches that he had been equipped with still remained on the gashed skin, but for the most part, he had ripped open everything.

”Can hear you overthinkin’”, Frank murmured, his raspy voice filling the bathroom, and you tore your gaze away from the old scars mingling with what would surely turn into new ones. You looked at the back of his head, how he was hanging it low, almost like he was ashamed.

”I’m glad you’re here with me”, you whispered, not realizing just how close to losing him you had been. He didn’t say anything, but reached over his shoulder with one hand to grasp yours and squeeze it tightly.

You took in a deep breath and turned to reach for a handtowel before switching on the showerhead as lightly as you could, just enough to trickle water down Frank’s muscled, torn back. The droplets trailing down his spine quickly turned red, and you made sure to carefully press the towel against them before they could slide down the waistband of his jeans.

You cleaned him up, gentle and dedicated to not causing him any more pain, and he sat quietly, letting you take care of him. He wasn’t usually so good at accepting it, but after everything he had been through, he was just so goddamn tired. And after all, if there was anyone he trusted to look after him, it was you.

Evening turned into midnight quickly as you moved to step two: stitching the worst gashes up. His back looked like a piece of cross-stitch by the time you were done, and maybe, in a few days, you’d be able to joke about it. You did the same for his arms, and eventually, crawled around him so you could make sure his chest was okay, too. You could feel his eyes on you, burning through you as he watched you do your thing.

”Gotten good”, he noted quietly, licking his lips. ”’M sorry”, he added, wishing that you could have learned to stitch from your own volition and not because he kept coming home beaten to a pulp.

”Don’t apologize”, you were quick to cut him off, giving him a warm, genuine smile as you placed a hand on the back of his head and met his gaze. ”You look after me, I look after you. That’s just how this works, baby”, you promised, and unable to respond in any way, utterly amazed and grateful for everything that you were, Frank simply looked into your eyes until you asked him to move.

His jeans came off next, and with the heavy atmosphere, there was no sly comment or joke, only complete solemnity as he undressed in front of you. There was a nasty wound on the back of his thigh, and you didn’t think twice to disinfect it and do the same for everything else he couldn’t reach himself. Hell, even if he could have, he was entirely sucked out of all energy. Knowing him, he would have neglected the cuts for as long as he could.

Eventually, you climbed off of the floor, not quite meeting his height as you stood in front of him and placed a hand on his broad chest. ”All fixed up”, you smiled before nodding towards the bedroom, ”want me to get you something comfy to put on?”

Shaking his head, Frank took your hand and swallowed. ”Nah, just wanna get in bed. That alright?” he whispered, and unsure how you’d ever be able to reject him when he sounded so fragile, you simply nodded.

You led him into the bedroom and after switching your bloodied t-shirt into one of Frank’s old ones, you got under the covers and let the man twice your size get on top of you, his head resting on your belly and his arms around you. You wrapped yours around him, too, and gently caressed his hair, smoothing the unruly curls out and rubbing his scalp with your fingertips.

You didn’t realize he was crying until the tears came in contact with the revealed skin from under your tee, the exhaustion finally wearing him down. After facing off with Billy, evading the police time and time again, saying goodbye to Amy… he was just happy to be in bed with you, free to breathe and sleep.

His quiet cries got you to tear up, too, and you leaned down to press a kiss on the top of his head. ”I love you, Frank”, you whispered, ”you’ve earned your rest, okay?”

The squish he gave your sides was enough to decipher a thank you and an I love you all at once, and you smiled weakly.

”Dunno what I’d do without you”, he admitted.

You chuckled softly. ”Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out”, you promised, continuing your gentle touches on his hair. ”I’m with you as long as you want me”, you added, and now, it was Frank’s turn to chuckle.

”Sweetheart, I ain’t ever lettin’ you go.”

[hemlocksandfoxgloves]

Theo hasn’t celebrated his birthday since he was 8 and Liam makes him cry for celebrating it. Thing is, he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. He doesn’t throw him a big party. It’s just the two of them. And it’s the best birthday he’s had in a long time.

Of course Jenna does make a nice meal and gives Theo a vegan muffin with a candle, which makes him laugh.

Later, after everyone has gone to bed, Liam and Theo are watching a movie on the couch when Liam brings out one more surprise for him.

“Liam, I dont need any gifts. This is perfect right here.”

“Well, I’m not taking it back, so you might as well just take it.”

Theo doesn’t say anything as Liam quickly runs to the closet and retrieves something. It’s kind of big, but Liam tries to hide it behind his back. Theo looks at the wrapped case as Liam holds it in front of him. The wrapping paper had squirrels all over it and was quite hideous, but was totally all Liam. Theo stared at the package with wide eyes. He glances at Liam, who’s giving him his best puppy dog eyes. He can’t look at him or he’ll break. 

“Are you… going to open it?”

“No,” he says tightly.

“Theo,” Liam whines.

“No, I can’t take it, Liam.”

Liam sighs. “Here,” he says as he tears the wrapping a little, splitting down a squirrel. He imagines it’s the same way his coyote tears through a small animal. Theo can see the top of the guitar case and the start of the company store name where Liam got the guitar and, no doubt, the leather case with it. Strings and Things, the musical shop off the corner by Sinema. Theo has been in there countless times, always wanting but never able to afford a new guitar. So he’s seen the price tags, and he knows there’s no way Liam could’ve afforded something like this. “I know you lost your old one when your dad…” Theo looks at Liam with slightly watery eyes. “Anyway, I just… I know how you loved to play, and it’s my fault you lost it anyway, so here.” Liam pushes it closer to Theo and Theo pushes it back. “Theo,” Liam exasperates. Huffing harshly, he pulls the wrapping off the rest of the way. He tears through the badly wrapped present and opens the case. The tears that had been so steadily collecting in Theo’s eyes fall and he sucks in a breath as he sees the guitar in plain view. The very guitar that he has stopped to look at every day at work.

Liam is freaking out. He thought this would make him happy, but all he was doing was making him cry.

“Do you not like it? I know it’s not like your old guitar, but the guy at the shop said it was one of a kind and that no other guitar plays like this one—” Liam stops rambling as he suddenly has his arms full of his coyote boyfriend. Theo sobs softly into his shoulder, his arms tight around him. “Theo im sorry. I thought you would like it. Ill take it back, okay?”

Theo shakes his head and looks at Liam. “Dont take it back.”

“But it made you cry.”

“Cause I'm happy you dumbass. I love you so goddamn much.”

Liam smiles, suddenly getting it. “I love you too.” He says before kissing Theo. The guitar lies forgotten till the next morning. Which is the best night of Liam Dunbar’s life. November 23rd is now his favorite day of the year.

[lunaslovelyrambles]

“you’ve got your products and reactants mixed up.”

you swear your eraser nearly rips a hole through your paper as you fix your mistake. who decided that organic chemistry had to be so goddamn hard? and complicated? and stupid, and-

“and the solvent is wrong, polar aprotic works better for SN2.”

and why did you decide to study with the world’s number one chemistry nerd?

“thanks, kuroo, got anything to say that’ll make me feel like i actually do know reaction mechanisms?”

he chose to not say that your skeleton structure was off by one carbon. or that the fluorine should be on a dash bond and not a wedge bond.

“well,” he pointed to the problem before that you had just completed, “this one’s right.”

you gave him an unconvinced look.

“mostly right.”

“ah, there it is,” you sighed and leaned back into your chair. you were tired. more than tired - exhausted. but ochem was your worst subject. it was even worse because there was no way that you’d actually use chemistry given your career goals.

it was merely one of those classes that you “needed to take” for your major. and it was brutal compared to the other chem classes you’d taken beforehand.

kuroo has been your friend for as long as you can remember. he was your neighbor growing up, and best friend ever since then. and now, your study buddy as you struggled with chemistry.

again.

“well. the product is only slightly off. you’re just not thinking about chirality when you’re doing SN1 reactions,” he narrowed his eyes at you as he watched you nod off.

“mhm. chirality, yup.”

“‘cause that can change your products,” he trailed off. your eyes had completely closed and he could’ve sworn you fell asleep because you barely noticed your chair tipping back further and further-

“ah-AH!” you lost your balance and felt yourself fall backwards, thankfully not hitting the ground due to the much more alert kuroo tetsuro.

“i think we should call it for tonight,” he went to go close your textbook. you sprung forward to stop him.

“no, no wait! i promise i’m awake,” you pleaded with him. he sighed and shook his head.

“you’ve done this before, y/l/n. with every other chem exam i’ve helped you study for. remember when i helped you study for your first gen chem one exam?” he had a teasing lilt to his voice.

“umm.. no?”

“exactly,” he full on smirked at you now, “you fell asleep for it.” you huffed, moving your arms to cross over your chest.

“well, it’s not my fault chemistry is so.. sleep inducing.” he mocked hurt and held his hand to his chest, as if the mere thought of chemistry being talked badly about was offensive.

“how dare you speak that way about chemistry?”

“oh come off it, deep down inside your science-loving heart you know this can get a bit boring.” he hummed in response, sliding your book off the desk and into your bag.

“maybe, maybe you just don’t understand how amazingly fun and super rad it can be.” that got a laugh out of you.

“but even with how fun it is, it’s not good to study for,” he broke to check the clock, “four hours? with rarely any breaks.”

“i know,” you sighed, head resting on the desk. even as you tried to relax your brain was still filled with ochem, and stupid reactions. your eyes fluttered shut and you sighed.

kuroo smiled affectionately at your sleepiness. it was cute, and he admired how much you effort you were putting into the class despite your hatred towards it.

he nudged your shoulder to jostle you awake slightly.

“don’t fall asleep at the desk,” he gently helped you up and over to your bed where you finally felt your body decompress. kuroo tucked the blankets around your body.

he took one second to unabashedly admire how adorable you were when you got tired. kuroo couldn’t help the small smile that rose to his face.

but he soon turned, shutting off the light on the desk and gathering his stuff. he assumed you were asleep until you spoke up again:

“night, tetsu,” you yawned sleepily, the sound of the nickname from his lips made him smile.

“g’night y/n, try not to dream too much about chemistry.”

— • — • —

-> masterlist

[j-onedrabbles]

𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒆𝒏: 𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒖𝒎𝒂 𝒅𝒖𝒎𝒑 cw: **THIS CHAPTER MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME READERS AS SEX*AL ASSAULT AND HARASSMENT ARE TALKED ABOUT DUE TO FAE AND NYMPHOLOGY IN GENERAL.** insecurities towards dating, body insecurities (i think you could call it that? idk? imma put it there anyways), food, mention trauma dump, chef lee know, mad lee know for a second wc: 1.2k a/n: I changed up some mythology for sake of story with siren/mermaids bc all I heard was the goddamn h2o meme

Minho hummed to the music that played at a low volume throughout his apartment as he moved through the kitchen. Slightly dancing as he cooked dinner. He only started cooking when Y/n texted him she was on her way over to his place, stopping when he heard a knock on the door almost twenty minutes later.

Minho wiped his hands with the kitchen towel before heading to the front door. He smiled at the girl on the other side and invited her in. “welcome.”

“Thanks,” Y/n smiled back.

Minho closed the door and headed back to the kitchen while she set her stuff down and slipped her sneakers off.

“Smells good,” Y/n commented as she joined him in the kitchen.

“Thanks. I might have texted Jisung and asked what your favorite was,” the dancer admitted

“How badly are you trying to impress me?” Y/n joked

“Depends if it’s working.”

“A little.”

Minho smirked as he continued cooking. “Do you need help with anything?”

“I got it. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Water’s fine.”

Minho took a break from the food and grabbed her a glass of water, “Don't turn into a fish on me.”

“You don't have to worry about that. I only have my tail when I’m in the Fae realm.”

“I thought it was whenever you touched the water?”

“False narrative. I think it just adds plot to the media when we randomly get wet and become a fish.”

“Is it possible if you go in the ocean? Like, seawater?”

“Don’t know actually. Never really go to the ocean.”

“Do you want to?”

Y/n shrugged, “Maybe if no one was there.”

Minho hummed in response as he went back to cooking. Y/n watched him work, cooking looked like it was second nature to him. She really could watch him cook all day. Especially while he danced to the music that played through his apartment. If this was what dating Minho was like, she’d want this every day.

“Can I ask you a question?” Y/n asked, nerves starting to set in.

“Of course.”

“I don’t want this to come out as me seeming conceited, but uhm, why do you like me?”

“Well,” Minho sighed as he finished cooking, “at first it was because you were hot.”

“Thanks,” Y/n giggled as he turned to face her.

“But, and not to sound like a creep, I started watching how you interacted with people, or better, noticing how you interacted with people–”

“I like the latter explanation better.”

“Yeah, well, I noticed how you interacted with people– fae or human– and you were so nice, despite how some humans treat you. I think I started liking your personality and then Jisung introduced us. I don’t know if it’s because you’re fae but I’ve been, drawn to you, for lack of a better explanation.”

“Probably because I’m fae, honestly.”

“Maybe. I think if you were human, I still would have fallen for you.”

“Really? You think you would have?”

“You don’t think I would have?”

“Maybe? I don’t know.”

“Hey,” Minho grabbed her hands, “What’s this about?”

Y/n sighed and looked down at their hands, “can we sit?”

Minho nodded and led them over to the couch in his living room. Minho ran his thumb over her knuckles as he waited for her to talk.

“I… I don’t think bad of you Minho, but, there’s no way for me to say it other than, I don’t want to feel like I’m a body to you...”

“Someone’s made you feel like that before?”

“A lot of people, actually,” Y/n couldn’t look him in the eyes, “If you couldn’t tell already, it’s made me a little insecure about dating.”

“Come here,” Minho tugged her into a hug. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest, “I generally, never want you to feel like that, with me or anyone again.”

“There’s… more too…”

“You don’t need to tell me tonight. I can tell it was hard enough for you to tell me about your insecurities.”

“I think it’s better you know before we get serious,” Y/n sat up and looked at him

“You want to take this past hanging out at parties and drinking with our friends?” Minho’s voice was laced with a comedic sarcasm

“Even though we technically met less than a week ago, yes?” Y/n felt her cheeks flush a bit at her answer

“You’re cute when you’re shy,” Minho smiled

“Can we get back on topic? It’s serious,” Y/n steered back to the original conversation.

“I’m listening.” Minho squeezed her hand as reassurance. Y/n took a deep breath.

“You know the general mythology of fae, specifically nymphs, right?”

“Love music and dance but unfortunately they’ve dealt with sexual assault and harassment because of their beauty,” Minho answered, then it hit him. “Have you—”

“Yeah. That’s kinda why I asked earlier why you liked me. Anyone else that’s showed any interest has just looked at me as a pretty fae they can get with.”

Minho stood and paced his living room a bit. He wasn’t completely unaware of how disgusting people could be, but it hits harder when you find out it’s someone you like or someone you’re close to. “Min…?”

He couldn’t be mad right now. Especially when the girl he grew feelings for over months of just admiring from afar was trusting him with something like this. He took a deep breath and crouched down in front of her. “I know, you probably don’t want to hear an apology—”

“You have nothing to apologize for Min,” Y/n held his face in her hands as she looked into his eyes. “I didn’t tell you for some pity party. It’s something I've dealt with in the past that I thought you should know. I’m not gonna lie, sometimes it still affects me. I didn’t want to keep it from you and something happen between us and I just randomly push you away…”

“Promise to tell me when you’re going through it? Even if you don’t want to be around me, rant to me. I can’t promise I won’t get mad about the fact it happened but I want to be someone you turn to with your issues. We’ll take this thing between us slow, okay?”

“Why are you so perfect,” Y/n felt like crying. Only her friends have ever gotten mad for her about something like this. “Promise me the same? You’ll come to me when you’re having a bad day?”

“I will,” Minho cupped her cheeks and wiped away the tears that hung under her bottom lashes.

“God. I didn't mean to trauma dump. I feel like I've been doing that since we met,” Y/n chuckled awkwardly

“It’s okay. Trauma tends to shape us more than we like to admit,” Minho laughed with her a bit. “Come on. Let’s eat.”

The two went back into the kitchen and Minho served the food. It hadn't gotten too cold just yet but he still offered to warm it up.

“Holy shit! This is amazing Min!” Y/n exclaimed

“Good. I'm glad you like it.” Minho smiled

“You might just have to cook for me all the time now,” Y/n joked

“I’ll cook for you whenever you want. Just ask.”

←PREV|NEXT→ MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

taglist: @xxoche3erryxxo @iadorethemskz @maeleelee @morningstardada @sungookie @mistlitmoonlight @junebug032 @m111nho @slay-and-gay

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | whumptember 2022

prompt | yelling

pairing | daddy!chris evans x little!reader

warnings | sfw regression, i know nothing about football, chris yelling (in excitement), so fluffy and soft and 🥺 i love daddy!chris 🫶🫶🫶

word count | 466

okay so the thought of daddy!chris yelling at little!reader makes me too 😦😦 so let’s go with chris yelling at the goddamn football game on tv for this one lol

idk maybe it’s a big game and he’s very invested, and little reader’s just hanging out with him and dodger in the living room. the game’s getting heated and chris is getting all pumped up as silly white boys do, he’s probably got dodger all worked up as well haha

reader’s laying next to him on the couch, not on his lap bc he’s up and out of his seat to cheer every few minutes lol. leaning back against the cushions, playing on her phone or whatever

then there’s a big play and a foul (is that a football term??? sjsksjsjsjsj) against chris’s team and he gets 👺👺pissed!!!👺👺

“what the fuck was that? call that!! that’s gotta be a fowl!” maybe he doesn’t agree with the ump’s decision and that makes him even more mad hehe

but when he finally settles back down onto the couch, he freezes when he can feel it shaking 🥺 looking over he sees reader with her big eyes full of tears and she’s just 🥺🥺 looking at him, bottom lip wobbling

“oh bubba, hey-” his voice is instantly so low and soft and careful. reader hugs her knees up to her chest, sniffling weakly. it’s an unspoken rule that chris NEVER raises his voice around her when she’s little bc she’s just too sensitive and it’s too scary

“sweet girl, come here,” he switches the volume off on the tv and now he’s got his full attention on her, feeling so guilty and reckless for scaring her so badly

“l-loud, daddy” 🥺

“i know baby, i’m so sorry. need to use my inside voice, daddy just forgot. it’s okay, no more yelling” 🥺🥺

“no more, please” her eyes are still so big and they finally overflow with her tears

“oh sweetheart, shhh,” he’s quickly pulling her over onto his lap, rocking her softly as she whimpers “shhh, baby. see? nice and soft, soft and quiet for baby. no more loud, okay? pinky promise”

she links pinkies but still cries for a little while, chris just holds her and rocks her and talks so sweetly and softly to her. keeps repeating stuff like “soft and gentle, nice and quiet, no scary voices here, just soft and safe for baby”

eventually she calms down and he turns the tv back on but much lower volume this time. and he’s no longer invested at all in the game, just wants to take care of his little girl. maybe he carries her during a commercial break to go get her crayons and coloring book and they color a picture together while they watch 💖💖💖

[thesandwichdaddy]

Drumsticks

{Andrew/Rebecca-Whiplash}

(TW: substance use, smoking)

This is not proofread at all 😭. Rebecca is an original character. I will make more parts to this. Not really proud of this but ily 🫶🏻

3.2k words

Rebecca’s first week at Shaffer was really disappointing to her. Still, though it wasn’t the best, she appreciated the small gym and tennis court they had. It seemed like there was no one who went to Shaffer, all the students being quiet and distant.

She did manage to make a friend, though, a small preppy girl at the tennis court who just hit the ball against the net by herself. So, Becca, being the nice person she was, offered to be her partner and even her friend. The girl was thrilled, and so they often played tennis together when Becca wasn’t drumming away, with Fletcher giving a new piece every week.

It was hard to keep up with, but she managed. She didn’t let the class consume her mind, not like Andrew. Andrew was quite the character for Becca. A tall, awkward boy who would die to be core drums was a constant battle for Becca. At first, they were too awkward to even talk or complain about who was playing that day. It was painfully awkward for Becca.

The first day Andrew was moved into Becca’s music class, afterwards Becca swore he had been following her a bit. She felt his eyes on her, glaring as she left for her dorm. Then, once she was on the tennis court with her friend, she noticed him walking past, his eyes meeting hers, and then quickly looking away.

A few weeks later, the arguments between her and Neiman became frequent. They were almost like children fighting over whose turn it was and who could get the attention of Fletcher more.

“What did I tell you about adjusting my goddamn seat?” Andrew said with a scowl, leaning down to push down the seat to the drums as they set up for the day. “It’s not my fault you're huge, dude. I can't even see past the drums when it’s like that."She retorted as she set her water bottle down next to her, sitting in the seat beside the music stand. “I’m not huge; you’re just small. And weak,” Andrew said as he sat, not bothering to give her a glance. Becca shook her head a bit, annoyed, as she just ignored him, grumbling under her breath. “And it isn’t your seat..." Andrew ignored it, practicing as he tried to drown out her presence beside him.

Most days were like this: constant bickering and insults being thrown left and right. But one particular day, it became worse—way worse. Fletcher made the decision to make Becca the core drummer, thus giving her the spot to perform at their upcoming concert. She was happy about this and pleasantly surprised. But not Andrew. His eyes burned holes into Becca as he glared her down. It was the breaking point for him. How could she just steal his place that he worked so hard for just like that? He despised her nonchalant attitude about it as well. She didn’t know how badly he wanted—no—needed to play. This was his life, his everything.

As Becca walked out of class, Andrew was quick to rush over, walking with her. “What the fuck was that?? What did you do??” He immediately questioned her, which earned a confused look from Becca as she kept walking. “What do you mean, ‘what did I do’? I fucking earned that spot; that’s what I did.” She retorted, not in the mood for his fits. Andrew harshly grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to stop and look at him. “You had to have done something. He wouldn’t just replace me like that,” he said, his brows furrowed as he looked down at her. He was breathing hard and really worked up about this. Becca looked at him in disbelief, giving a slightly amused smile at this. “You sound crazy, Andrew. Just accept that I’m better than you.” She said, his large hand still on her shoulder, holding on tightly. This made Andrew even more pissed, his jaw tensing. “You’re not better than me. You know what? I bet you fucking opened your legs for him, didn’t you?” He said it harshly at her. Really, Andrew didn’t mean it, but he was too mad to stop himself now. Becca looked at him in disbelief, beyond anger, as she shoved his arm off her. “You are disgusting, Andrew.” She growled, going to walk again, but was stopped by Andrew once again turning her around, now with both of his hands tightly on her shoulders. “You haven’t earned shit, have you? You slut—“He was cut off by a harsh slap from Becca, making him back off and hold his face in slight shock from it. Becca looked at him in disbelief and anger. “Fuck you, Andrew.” She said that before going to leave, Andrew was just watching. The slap hurt, but in the best way possible for Andrew. He caught his breath. He didn’t actually mean what he said, but that slap was definitely deserved. For some reason, his focus now wasn’t so much on the drums as on Becca. He sighed, his face red from both the slap and his feelings. He had really messed himself up this time.

——

It was weird after that—quiet. Andrew didn’t talk to Becca, and she didn’t talk to him either. She played and practiced while Andrew turned her pages. It would feel rewarding for her if she hadn’t felt bad about him not playing. She had to admit that it got to her.

Andrew was caught in his feelings, confused. While a big part of him was dealing with the disappointment of not playing, the other part couldn’t stop thinking about Becca. It wasn’t just envy this time; this was a crush. He scowled at that thought. How childish of him to have a crush, he thought. Now that he thought about it, the last crush he had was in high school, but even then, it was nothing more than the usual teenage boy hormones. This was different; this felt real. Too real. He was a mess.

——

Becca was slacking. Her drumming became sloppy as her mind was ridden with the guilt of taking Andrew's place. He was a much better drummer; she knew that. Was this what she wanted? She didn’t think so. So here she was, standing outside of Fletcher’s office after class with her sticks in her hand, mentally preparing herself to talk to him.

She gave a soft knock, wincing as she did. She started to think that he didn’t hear until she heard a deep voice boom on the other side. “Come in.” And she did, nervously closing the door behind her. Fletcher looked at her with intrigue; his brows furrowed as he gestured for her to sit. Becca took a seat on the other side of his desk and took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure how he’d take this, but she hoped it wouldn’t be too bad. “Mr. Fletcher, I was hoping you would reconsider who’s on the core drums for the concert.” She said, ripping off the bandaid and being straight forward. Fletcher put down whatever papers he was looking at and crossed his arms, leaning back as he looked at her and thought to himself.

“So did you feel bad about your boyfriend, or are you just pussying out?” Fletcher asked, obviously not pleased. Becca slightly winced at his answer, half expecting it. She ignored the boyfriend's comments at this point, being used to them. "No, uh," she sighed, not knowing how to put it. She sort of did feel bad for her boyfriend—no, Andrew. Becca looked at Fletcher, thinking. He waited with an impatient look on his face. Becca continued, “I think Andrew deserves this more than I do.” She said finally, earning an interested look from Fletcher. It was hard to decipher his emotions most of the time. It was odd to see him so interested, though. Becca was prepared for worse. It was almost like he had expected this, oddly enough.

——

As promised, Andrew got the core drums again. When Fletcher said he had just changed his mind and wanted Andrew back, he looked to Fletcher with shock, feeling like he had found purpose again. Becca was thankful that Fletcher didn’t say anything about their talk. Andrew glanced at her briefly as the news was told, trying to get a read on her emotions. But he was met with nothing but a neutral expression on Becca’s face. He assumed she would be upset. Or maybe she was, but she was good at hiding it? Now he felt a bit bad. Just a little thought, it was nice to finally get a distraction from his feelings now that he had something to work on. Why was she so quiet? Did she hate him? Still, he couldn’t bring himself to talk to her.

——

Andrew was going insane. The concert was tomorrow, and he couldn’t focus on anything. Andrew was pretty sure he was having a panic attack, and it was nearly in the middle of the night. He hated when these would happen. He was overwhelmed and more stressed than Elvis Presley. There was so much to think about—too much to think about. His mind didn’t stop, tormenting him with thoughts of the concert, his family, and Becca.

Andrew had to do something. He was pacing around his dorm like a tiger in a cage, his anxiety gnawing at him underneath his skin. He needed someone, his mom—god no, a friend. There was only one person he could think of, and that was to see Becca. It was late, and he had no idea how she even felt about him, but he needed this feeling to go away. Andrew thought he was the biggest creep for this, but he knew what dorm she stayed in because he happened to watch her walk in. He also happened to know that she played tennis on the court right next to her dorm. And he also happened to know that every morning she got a cream cheese bagel for breakfast at the campus cafe. God, maybe he did have a problem. Andrew prayed that she wouldn’t be asleep as he quickly stepped out of his dorm, marching over to hers, which was a whole building away. It gave Andrew time to think as he felt the warm air against his face. He was walking way too fast for anyone to think he was just taking a casual walk. His breaths were short and his chest felt tight as he walked, eventually making it to her dorm, where he repeated the door number a million times on the way there so he wouldn’t forget.

Andrew gave a knock, softer than a pounding but loud enough to come off urgent. Despite his prayers, Becca answered, obviously just having woken up. Her hair was so beautifully messy, and a baggy t-shirt almost covered the shorts she wore underneath it. He wondered if he had a shirt that size; maybe she needed one of his—he needed to stop. Becca looked at him with surprise, rubbing her eye a bit as she held the door open. “Andrew?” She asked, her voice a bit groggy. “Becca,” he said, looking at her as he breathed hard, trying to get out his words. “Please, can I come in?” He asked with a bit of desperation in his voice.

Becca knew something was off with Andrew, and she was worried. She nodded, opening the door as he came in, and she shut the door, looking at him. Andrew quickly looked around and then turned to her. His voice panicked as he started to feel that anxiety again. "Becca, I’m freaking out about tomorrow.” He said, his voice shaking a bit as he swallowed. It was mostly true, just that he left out the part where he also couldn’t stop thinking about her. Becca gave a slightly thoughtful look, still a bit surprised that he was here. The question of how he knew where she stayed didn’t seem to cross her mind just yet. She saw his desperation, feeling a bit sorry for him as she spoke. “You’re having a panic attack?” She asked, which Andrew thought about for a moment. “Yes.” He said it softly, his hands shaking. Becca motioned for him to sit next to her on the couch, and he did, looking forward as he focused on his shaky breath. As Becca woke up a bit more, she glanced at the clock across the room, which was reading 1:15 AM. This had to be really bad for him to be over at this time.

Becca thought about what she should do. She was never good at words, and comforting Andrew seemed like the most difficult task at the moment. Andrew sat there quietly, trying not to look at her beside him because he knew once he did, he’d crumble and try to latch onto her. He didn’t want to do that just yet; he wanted to try to have some sort of self-control for once in his life. With a sigh, Becca finally moved across the room to grab a small metal box, bringing it over. Andrew glanced over with confusion at it, and she opened it. “Have you ever smoked before?” Becca asked, moving the small grinder out of the way to pick a blunt. Andrew looked at her a bit apprehensive, surprised she even had this. “N-No, why are..." He trailed off, trying to make sense of the situation. Andrew had always been a good boy, never finding the need for things like this. Maybe occasionally a drink, but he didn’t have a problem. “It helps me when I’m freaking out and can’t sleep.” She answered his question, looking at him. Her expression seemed much softer than before when she looked at him. She waited for him to verbally consent; she wasn’t going to pressure him into anything. She just wanted to help. He gave a nod, sitting up straight and looking at her. “Okay.”

——

So here he was, his lungs slightly burning and his pupils blown out as he lay next to Becca on her humongous couch. “Becca?” Andrew's groggy voice spoke as he turned his head to see her, breaking the long silence between them. Becca met his gaze, her eyes red and slightly lidded. “Yeah?” Andrew swallowed hard, his nerves calmed way more than they had earlier. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly, studying her face. “For saying that stuff to you, and for taking the core drums.” Becca turned on her side to look at him, her head propped against her arm. He really did mean it, and he needed to get it off of his chest. He wanted to fix things between them funnily enough. Becca bit back on the urge to tell him that it was her decision to get him on core drums again, but she decided it would be nicer if she didn’t. “It’s okay, Andrew; don’t even worry about it.” She spoke softly, her eyes tracing his jawline. Relief washed over him as he stared into her eyes, calm and high. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve kissed her over and over right there and run his hands over her skin for hours, but he didn’t. “You’re still in your clothes from this morning.” Becca said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. Andrew snapped out of his trance, barely hearing her. “Huh? Oh, yeah.” He said with a slight smile, looking down at his wrinkled dress shirt and slacks.

There was another silence between them as Andrew looked up at the ceiling, his breaths slowing as his body finally calmed. He was tired, not wanting to worry about anything at the moment. Becca was still observing him, moving her hand to brush his hair slightly out of his face. “You’ll do great tomorrow, Andrew; don’t stress.” She whispered to him, meaning it. Andrews jaw tensed, his breathing starting to become hard as he refused to look at her. One look, and he’d break into tears. He knew it. Becca noticed this, moving closer with a soft look on her face. “Andrew,” she whispered. He shook, a small, painful whimper escaping him as he finally took a breath after holding his breath to stay quiet, something he learned from his childhood. “Hey.” She said, reaching to touch his shoulder just before Andrew sat up sharply. “No.” He said, pained and surprisingly stern. Becca sat up, confused and worried. “What’s wrong, Andrew?” She asked, looking at him as he hunched over and shook slightly. He shook his head, refusing to let his tears fall as he silently panicked. This was the worst thing ever for him; he didn’t want to cry in front of anybody, especially Becca.

He couldn’t speak, his throat and lungs burning from both holding his breath and holding his tears. He ruined the moment. He ruined everything. He should just go. Becca was silent, standing once he did, and she tried approaching again just for Andrew to hold out a hand to stop her. “N-no, please don't..." He said, making it to the door. Becca was beyond confused; a million questions were going through her head. Did she do something wrong? “I’ll see you tomorrow, Becca.” He says, not wanting to face her as he leaves, closing the door. Becca was left silent, looking at the door. She was really worried.

——

Andrew made it to his dorm, immediately going to his bed as he covered his face, finally letting out the cry he needed. He felt pathetic. He hated comfort. He needed comfort. He wanted to stay away from Becca. He longed for Becca. He hated this. He hated his stupid parents and the stupid trauma that made him this way. He wanted so badly for Becca to forgive him and his ways.

He eventually fell asleep, his tear-stained face buried in the pillow that he tightly clutched. He just hoped he was ready tomorrow and that Becca didn’t hate him.

[irrevocably-delicious]

Gonna complain on here because ooh love tumblr. Love how anonymous it is. Love that no one can find me.

Anyway, I work retail and I work 8 hour shifts. I get two breaks, but otherwise I am on my feet for 7 hours. Except when I go to the bathroom. I spend most of that time standing behind a customer service desk making orders, booking deliveries, helping customers find what they’re after.

This Saturday my back started hurting SUPER badly. Which isn’t surprising. I have big tits. This is kind of my curse for the rest of my life. But it was getting significantly bad this Saturday, and I knew all the standing was making it worse. Every moment I wasn’t with a customer I was slumped over trying to stretch out my back. It was so bad that even when I got home, I couldn’t sit at my desk. Laying in bed it just throbbed. I woke up at 4am to feed my cat and I could feel how one wrong move would send me gasping in pain. I had to call in sick for Sunday.

This has happened to me before. Not a lot, but… it’s happened. This was definitely the worst it’s been in a long time, so I actually thought maybe I could do something about. I emailed my HR department just like “hey don’t know if you guys are the ones to talk to about this, but would it be possible to get some stools at the customer service desk to use sometimes? I’ve had some really bad pain in my back and this would really help me. This way I wouldn’t have to call in sick and actually it might help me not get to the point where I would HAVE to call in sick, if I could sit down preemptively when I can feel it starting to come on.”

And long story short, I get a reply telling me to go to the doctor. File an incident report and tell them about my injury. Make sure my doctor lists the job duties that I can and cannot perform. Depending on what they are they may have to move me to a different department. Just… things are getting wildly out of hand.

But the real kicker was after all that they said : “I don’t see stools at the customer service counters as being something we can facilitate at this time.”

LIKE…. What are you saying? You would rather move me to a different department (newsflash all the departments require you to stand for your entire shift. Unless you’re a manager), and replace me in my own department with a new hire. Both of us will have to be retrained in our respective areas…. Than give me a GODDAMN stool sometimes?

ALSO this is JUST A LIE because we’ve had people injure themselves in OTHER departments and they have been moved onto the customer service desk WHERE WE GAVE THEM A STOOL. I’m talking people with back injuries, pregnant people, someone in a cast. We gave them all a stool!

Anyway just remember kids that companies SUCK. Capitalism SUCKS. Managers SUCK. HR departments SUCK. No one is here to protect YOU. They would rather uproot your whole job then let a single customer see you sitting down. God forbid

They preach about how much they care for their coworkers, and celebrate IDAHOT day and give you your free rainbow bag which they sell and SAY they donate proceeds to a LGBT+ charity, but they can’t tell you the name of said charity. And they’ll do their little mental health awareness weeks and partner with counselling services, and give you your little “how to be a good ally” listicles. But when you ACTUALLY need their help and support… they won’t even give you a god. Damn. Chair.

[theaggresivepacifist]

luthen, andor, and rogue one

The doom has finally come upon me, I care about a piece of Star Wars media (everyone who’s here for Stranger/SF, forgive me and avert your eyes from the spectacle that’s about to follow, unless you too share my obsession with the above topics)

We have to wait until 2024 apparently so please excuse me while I scream into the void about LUTHEN in the context of Rogue One - 

- or more specifically his ghost, how Cassian becomes for Jyn Erso what Luthen is right now for him, because I’m obsessed. (Forgive any minor inaccuracies as, as I say, I have never really paid attention to Star Wars much before now, other than when Rogue One initially came out.)

We know that by the end of Andor S2, everything will have to have gone to absolute hell for the Rebellion and specifically Mon Mothma, who is forced to go fully into hiding with the Rebellion, and Saw Gerrera, who is badly injured and breaks away from the mainline Rebellion. There are apparently canonical reasons for that that are way too far over my head right now, but what interests me is that Luthen Rael, “Axis,” the master of the Rebellion’s spy network, one of its key strategists and financiers, who brought in the man who helps to ultimately secure the Death Star plans and turn the tide of war, is gone by the time we make it to Rogue One/the end of Andor. I can only assume, based on the foreshadowing we’ve seen so far, that he’s dead (more on that later). 

Now enter Jyn in Rogue One. Like Cassian at the start of Andor S1, the Empire has separated her from her family. She too has been in the Empire’s prisons and what appear to be some kind of labor/mining camps. She’s been a child soldier, like Cassian in “the mud at Mimban.” She’s still hoping to be reunited with her father, just as Cassian is looking for his sister. She’s so beaten down that at this point, all she cares about survival, not rebellion. Sound familiar? And just as Luthen does for him in Andor S1, Cassian is the one who encourages her to take this war seriously, “to fight these bastards for real.” He becomes her handler, as Luthen is his, and works with her as she discovers her own reasons for wanting to fight the Empire. 

And Cassian, from the first moment we see him in Rogue One, is the one making all of the horrible, messy, secret choices and sacrifices necessary to keep the rebellion going - killing his injured comrade rather than letting him be captured, using Jyn to get him to her father so that he can (unbeknownst to her) take him out. The kind of vicious, tragic decisions that Luthen had to make, or felt he had to - his “I’m damned for what I do,” Cassian’s “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of in the name of this rebellion.” Cassian knows about and has some kind of precarious dealings with Saw Gerrera - who was Luthen’s contact, as well as Jyn’s guardian, and now Luthen is gone. And as many people have already pointed out, Cassian and Jyn end up dying in the very goddamn poetic sunrise Luthen said he burns his own life for, and will never see. ARGH

In closing, a few theories on what might have happened to Luthen based on what we’ve seen so far, because I live for the angst and GOD I NEED TO KNOW:

1) Mon Mothma betrays Luthen to the Empire for some reason in the name of the greater good of the Rebellion, cementing what we already saw at the end of S1 re: her daughter – she’s beginning to take initiative in making ugly sacrifices for the cause.

2) Luthen dies for Cassian in some way, whether that’s protecting him or allowing Cassian to kill him, cementing his growing sentimentalism/that he’s tired of hiding and sacrificing love and connection, and wants to be a more humane person – to make the Rebellion more humane.

3) Luthen dies in some kind of fallout with Saw Gerrera, cementing the tensions there and the break with the main Rebellion. (Also, if this is not the case – the fact that Saw outlives Luthen is so ironic given what we know about them so far, how isolated Saw is and how central and well-connected Luthen is, and I wonder if that influenced Saw’s decision to leave the Rebellion. That would especially be true if Mon Mothma or someone else sold out Luthen.)

4) I doubt it, but Luthen betrays the cause because he’s tired of sacrifice, and either disappears or gets taken out by Mon Mothma, Cinta, etc., or Cassian (also would cement Cassian’s growing coldness and allegiance to the cause that we see in Rogue One, when he kills his own injured operative).  

He could also just die in some tragic random way, which wouldn’t fulfill a narrative arc but would speak to the cost of war, and how even the greatest among the great can be brought down by chance, by a single cog in the machine, even by someone who’s just scared or following orders or unaware of what they’re doing. The show certainly has killed off a lot of its compelling characters quickly so far. There’s also potential for the arrestor cruiser incident to come back to bite him, because that was extraordinarily close and showy by Luthen’s standards, but that seems like too much of a stretch.

Anyways, I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST WROTE 900 WORDS ON THIS and am so mad we won’t have closure until end of 2024, ow. 

[themculibrary]

Jimmy Woo Masterlist

A Damn Good Team (ao3) - Enigmaforum T, 1k

Summary: They weren’t the Avengers but they were a damn good team all the same.

They could do this. They would do this.

First meet contact. Second save Darcy.

Beyond Our Control (ao3) - cluelessrebel1988 T, 2k

Summary: An extended scene with Monica and Jimmy during and after the events at the end of WandaVision episode 6

Breaking All The Rules (ao3) - DGCatAniSiri scott/jimmy G, 1k

Summary: Jimmy is in Scott Lang's bed. That's really not how this is supposed to work.

choreography (ao3) - manic_intent scott/jimmy E, 9k

Summary: The alpha stood carefully by the biggest window in Scott’s house, keeping his hands to himself. Fate had just decided to fuck with Scott in a major way and the only comfort Scott could take from the mess was that Agent Jimmy Woo looked as freaked out as Scott was. Of course the first perfectly compatible alpha Scott had ever met in nearly five decades of his life on earth would be his goddamned case officer.

first date (ao3) - ChookTingle scott/jimmy M, 2k

Summary: Scott finally asks Jimmy out then turns up late for their first date. This doesn't end even half as badly as he expected.

First Move (ao3) - calatoria darcy/jimmy T, 3k

Summary: Post-Hex, Darcy and Jimmy keep dancing around each other. Who makes the first move?

Green Tea Panna Cotta with Cookie Crumble and Brûléed Plums (ao3) - derevko_child phil/melinda G, 3k

Summary: They both smell like they just came out of a coffee shop but Coulson smells like coffee and May smells like tea, and if twenty years ago, someone tells him that one day, he’ll be sitting in between the two of them, eating Chinese takeout for dinner, knees touching, watching tv and bantering like old friends, he’d probably think they’re crazy

Agent Jimmy Woo gets a surprise visit from old friends.

Hints (ao3) - amitiel, RikuKingdomHearts3 darcy/jimmy G, 1k

Summary: Darcy realizes that she has a crush on Jimmy so she figures that she'll drop some hints and get them talking about it so she can properly tell him. After all, no one can be THAT dense... right?

Normal People (ao3) - manic_intent scott/jimmy E, 43k

Summary: “Dating is a security risk,” Phil said. He patted Jimmy companionably on the shoulder as he said it.

Jimmy pointedly shrugged off Phil’s hand. “Seriously? Is this really the time?”

Phil shaded his eyes against the sun. They were both wrapped heavily in parkas, knee-deep in snow a couple of miles out from Mt. Lussari village. Nothing but brilliant blue sky, mountains, and the wreckage of a military plane with all the bodies suspiciously missing. “It’s always a good time. Especially if you insist on using unsecured apps.”

Only in a Sitcom (ao3) - ForASecondThereWedWon darcy/jimmy T, 26k

Summary: Darcy has no idea what the hell's going on with this WandaVision thing, but neither does Jimmy. It's kinda fun to have somebody to binge-watch alternate reality TV with.

Initiative (ao3) - manic_intent scott/jimmy E, 6k

Summary: “Hello again,” Scott said, as cheerfully as he could.

Standing by the holographic deck in the middle of the shiny new Situation Room in the shiny new HQ for ATLAS, Jimmy stared at Scott. “Did you need something else, Mister Lang?”

Scott winced. The past year since the Ghost Incident hadn’t changed Agent Jimmy Woo much. Same wary expression, as though Scott was going to cart off the TV if Jimmy turned his back. Jimmy was still looked perfectly folded into his black suit with the neat tie, his collar pressed to sharp edges. “No uh. Just want to say. I’m happy to be here?”

jurisdiction (ao3) - manic_intent scott/jimmy E, 5k

Summary: “Let’s say that I met someone kinda cute,” Scott said as he and Luis sat down for tacos in Taqueria El Farolito, hunched over their burritos against the bright yellow and orange wall. “But we didn’t meet in the best of circumstances, and they probably hate me. How would I fix things?”

never the wrong card (ao3) - manic_intent scott/jimmy E, 4k

Summary: Scott peeked in. He was a little late thanks to traffic. On a quick sweep of the place, he thought for a moment that whoever he was meeting was also late. Or had stood Scott up. No such luck. In the corner of the restaurant, checking his phone, was a guy in a suit with a white tulip pinned to his lapel.

Huh. Scott felt a little embarrassed for snipping a wildflower off the sidewalk now, but he’d genuinely forgotten about the flower thing until he was on his way. He sidled over to the table and sat down. “Paxton’s friend?” Scott asked, then added awkwardly, “er, hi.”

superheroes (ao3) - manic_intent scott/jimmy E, 7k

Summary: “Just gimme the chicken soup,” Scott said, once Agent Woo ran out of breath.

Woo blinked and handed over the plastic soup container. It was lukewarm to the touch and smelled rich and oily and herby in a way Scott didn’t recognise. Strange wrinkly red raisin-like things floated on the surface among odd white shards, and the chicken was a weird charcoal colour through the clear plastic lid. “Err. Is this really chicken soup?” Scott asked, trying his best not to sound suspicious and failing.

“It’s obviously chicken soup,” Woo said, a little defensively.

the mistimed bing (ao3) - Siria scott/jimmy T, 3k

Summary: “Oh, whoa, okay, wait, hold up.” Scott came to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk, clutching his bag of tacos to his chest. “I think he actually was asking me out.”

Wooing Bruce (ao3) - Blizzard_Fire jimmy/bruce T, 2k

Summary: Jimmy performs card tricks to calm Hulk down. In the year that follows, he and Bruce get to know each other.

[ser-rctslcyer]

Slow Down Rebel Boy || Poe Dameron

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Transmasc! Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Synopsis: He’s been bouncing around all around The Resistance, doing everything for everyone, and every time you tell him to slow it down.  (Or the 3 times you make Poe take a break and the 1 time he comes to you for one.)

Warnings: Canon Compliant (Post TLJ / Pre TROS), Established Relationship, 3+1 Things, Mild Hurt/Comfort, NSFW, Coded Language (clit and cunt)

A/N: This was 100% written so I could watch @mccnknightstcrdst lose their goddamn mind 😌(also cue me writing other things even though i have a series to work on)

He was quieter for the first few weeks after Crait.

You had noticed the subtle shift in your love after The Resistance had settled into Ajan Kloss. The lack of smiles, laughter and the typical fiery stubborn temper had all but disappeared. He was silent and nearly compliant with everything asked of him— so unlike his regular self. 

Poe was different.

It had taken a tearful confession at night for you to realize how badly the last escape from The First Order affected him. He had blamed himself for the losses at D’Quar, for Leia’s injuries, and Vice Admiral Holdo’s sacrifice for them to even make it to Crait in the first place. He had felt at fault for the position they were in now, barely scraping by and on the breaking point of falling apart. The Order had truly won their last battle, sinking their claws deeper into the galaxy and more and more people were afraid to help them.

He believed he was the one to condemn for that. 

Wiping away his tears, you tugged him closer and assured him it wasn’t; that no one believed he was at fault, which was true. Rubbing your hand over his back, you told him his leadership skills were needed and that people here still needed him to be him. 

After that night, you noticed his demeanor change; he was acting like his usual self.

Well except for one thing. 

Dumping the extra scraps you scavenged over your workbench, you plopped down with a sigh. On one hand, you were glad to have found a bunch of scraps to use but frankly, there were one too many X-Wings that still needed to be repaired and you were running a little behind. 

Speaking of which, the familiar reverberations of the ships shook the broken down structure and quickly you were out of your seat; heading straight toward the hangars. Your eyes fall on the familiar black and orange X-Wing, watching the dark curly-haired man hop out; his usual bright orange jumpsuit was covered in different size patches of dirt. He talked to a few of his other pilots, seemingly updating them on some sort of information. You watched and as the conversation ended, he started off in the other direction; the one he wasn’t supposed to be going. 

“Poe!” you shouted, watching the man pause and turn; a soft puppy-like grin stretching across his lips as he jogged up to you. 

“Hey, handsome.” he sang, tucking his helmet under his left arm to cup your face with both hands and kisses you tenderly. It’s short-lived but sweet and you can’t help but lick over your lips.

“Good to see you too, love. Where are you off to?” you ask, scanning over the small scapes on his face and neck; catching the way his eye twitched.

“I was going to start working on the next mission briefing, I—”

“Poe— you just got back,” you state and he winces slightly. 

“Yeah, well I thought, I could–” he tried to explain but you shook your head. 

“Poe, you haven’t even rested,” you poke his chest hard and he lets out a soft sigh.  “I’m also assuming you didn’t eat anything either, since you forgot your food pouch too,” you add sarcastically, poking him again. You wait for an answer but instead, Poe shyly avoids your eyes.

“Now, now, Wing Commander you are to go to your quarters, eat and relax,” you command, walking behind him and giving him a shove in the direction of all the rooms.

“Wait, wait, I promise it won’t take long at all! It’s quick and I will be done and in my room—” you snort, knowing this little game of his all too well.

“Before you know it?” you finish, watching the small smile drop from his lips.

“That’s what you said last time, but then you ended up spending the entire day planning said mission you just went on and left before I could even talk to you.” you look over at his X-Wing and then back to him; his head bowed down, staring at his feet. 

“Sorry, I will go eat.” he softly apologizes a small frown over his lips. 

“No need to, love; I just need to you to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.” you soothe. 

“I know.” he kisses the inside of your palm and you can’t help but drag your thumb over his lips.

“You can slow down, love.”

“I know and thank you, handsome.” he grinned, nuzzling your hand for a second longer before you put it down to hold his hand. 

“No problem, now let’s go get you fed.” you smile, pressing a quick kiss to his neck before heading to your shared room. You feel him squeeze your hand for a second but don’t think anything of it; not noticing the sharp intake of air he takes.

You had lost track of him after breakfast.

Poe had slipped out of sight when you were talking with Finn and now you couldn’t find him anywhere. Normally, you wouldn’t be that concerned with him off doing whatever business he need but he had spent all day hard at work and he needed a damn break. 

You had ended up outside, grimacing at the hot heat of the jungle, and began searching outside. You passed by many of your friends but with no sign of Poe. You were deep within the forest when you caught sight of rocks flirting and you pause. As quiet as could be, you crept in that direction catching sight of the young Jedi, training. She was barely floating above the ground, a few small rocks rotating around her. 

“Rey,” you called softly, not wanting to break her concentration, “ have you seen Poe?”

“No, why?” she replied, her eyes still closed. 

“He’s being a busy body again,” you complain, sitting down under a tree,

“Ah, the typical Dameron.”

“Yep, and I was trying to make sure he stayed still but he gave me the slip when I was talking to Finn.” 

“He’s a crafty one.” she chuckled, and you rolled your eyes. 

“He’s a bastard is what he is. Dammit, Dameron.” you deflate, looking up between the branches. Silence falls between you both and you wait, watching as Rey slowly moves higher into the air.

“Rey?”

“No, I will not use the force just to find Poe.” she deadpanned.

“Not even if I say please?” you plead with your voice and she shakes her head. 

“The answer remains the same.”

“Damn.”

“I’m sure you’ll find him soon, if there’s one thing about Poe he has his patterns.” she hums, and it's like the idea comes crashing down onto your head; you scramble up off the ground. 

“You’re absolutely right, thank you for the advice!” you shout before taking off. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean—” Rey’s voice trailed off as you rushed past the tall bushes and trees, towards the other side of the base. If there was one thing you knew about Poe, was his love for vehicles, especially fast ones. As soon as you catch sight of the speeders, you see him standing there chatting with a few other members. You jog over, right as someone points at you and Poe turns around with a smile, meeting you halfway. 

“Hey, handsome.” he greeted, pulling you in for a hug and kissing the top of your forehead. 

“I didn’t know you taught speeder lessons.” you grinned, waving at a few of the soldiers; their heads falling down as they pretended they didn’t get caught staring. 

“I saw them riding around and it look like a few of them were struggling, so I thought I give them some tips.” he stepped back, turning to admire

“Just tips on how to ride?” you raised your eyebrow. 

“Well, that and maybe a few on how to em faster,” he spoke, shyly scratching the back of his head. 

“Like the speeders, you used in Kijimi, when you were—” his gloved hand quickly cups itself around your mouth, as he looks at you wide-eyed. 

“Shh, will you keep your voice down?” he hissed, and you smirked against the leather, tugging his hand gently down. 

“Why? I’m sure they’d love to know you were a spice runner.” you beam and he squints. 

“Why are you being a little terror?” 

“I don’t know, why are you not taking it easy, like I asked?” he instantly grimaces and stomps his foot like a little kid. 

“Handsome, you know I hate sitting still,” he whines and you cross your arms. 

“Yes, I do but with the number of chases you get yourself into and hurt, I think I’m allowed to be worried.”

“This time, I didn’t get hurt that bad!” he argued, patting the side that barely was grazed by a Stormtrooper's blaster. 

“Emphasis on this time. Coming back from missions and working your ass off, isn’t healthy for you, my love. You still need to get your rest, so you can keep kicking ass.” you grab his hands, slotting your fingers between his and tugging him closer. His eyes are focused on yours as you lean in and peck his lips lovingly.

“Besides, I’m sure they’re perfectly fine with waiting at least a day, for your supervision to get these speeders in peak working order,” you add, brushing your nose against his jaw; your hands moving to rub over his sides. One of his hands moves to his hips and the other cupping the back of your neck. 

“I hate when you make good points,” he mumbles and you chuckle softly. 

“Oh I know, you do. Which is why I keep making them.” he snorts, kissing you again. 

“You should go tell them you're taking the rest of the day off.”

“The rest of the day?” he looks at you like you’ve said the most insane thing in the world and you shake your head. 

“Poe.”

“Fine, fine.” he frowns but instead of scolding him, you press a kiss to his neck. 

“Go tell ‘em.” you look over to the group and back at Poe, who seems a little flush in the face. His eyes are locked on yours for a moment, before he rubs his neck, walking back to the group. You watch as he apologizes for having to leave and promises to be back tomorrow. You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips, as the rebels thank and rave at him.

Yawning, through the quiet beeping halls, you come to a stop as you come to your room. The soft click of the button opens the door and to your surprise, Poe is sitting at the table, awake. You rub over your eyes to make sure you’re not already dreaming, shocked to see him up this late. You expect him to look at you but he doesn’t too focused on whatever is in front of him. You enter, letting the door shut softly, and BB-8 beeps from his charging station. You greet the robot, rubbing over his  little head before looking back to your pilot. 

“And what do you think you're doing?” you call out, watching Poe jump and whip around in his seat.

“Oh, uh, hey, um— what have you been up to?” he smiles, pushing back whatever he was working on. You step closer, finally noticing the tablet on the table. 

“Poe.”

“I swear I was doing nothing more than reading over it!” he put his hands up in defense and you rolled your eyes. 

“Which is why you have several mission documents out, right?” he sighed, throwing his head back as he slouched in the seat.

“I’m close to being done.” he defend.

“Poe.”

“I know, you told me before, no more working before bed, in fact, you outlawed it, but I promise I thought it would be quick.” he moped, pulling his stuff back in front of you. Sighing, you set your tool kit down and walked up to the table.

“How close are you?”

“Just another hour,” he whispered and you sighed, tapping your fingers against the table. 

“I’ll give you another half to finish whatever you have now so you can go to sleep, is that okay?” you can see the confusion spread across his face before he realizes your giving him extra time. 

“Yes.” he grinned, blowing you a kiss. “Thank you handsome.”

“Mhm, don’t get used to it, Dameron.” you kiss his temple, heading to your closet. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” he laughed, tapping away on his tablet.

You listen to him work silently, as you stripped down and got yourself in clean clothes. You drink a small bit of water before plopping in bed to relax your muscles and closing your eyes. You can feel every second tick by but you refuse to let yourself fall asleep until you can make sure Poe’s in bed. Once it’s been long enough you get up, stretching your limbs as you drape your arms over his shoulder; burying your nose into his hair. 

“Trying to lure me to bed, already? I thought you said you were giving me another half hour?” he hums, one of his warm hands, grabbing and rubbing over your arm. 

“I am, you still have a few minutes. I just missed you, is all,” you mumble.

“I missed you too. I’m sorry we keep breaking everything.” he leans up and kisses underneath your chin. 

“It’s fine, you know I love fixing things,” you speak sarcastically and he laughs.

“Yes, but you’re also very meticulous to make sure everything works perfectly for us.”

“The life of a war mechanic.” you yawn and Poe stops his tapping.

“We're almost at the end.” the calmness in his voice brings an unnerving feeling to your stomach. 

“I know.” you answer, feeling the tension increase. 

“We’ll win, love. Please don’t fret.” you kiss the back of his neck, squeezing him gently till he relaxes with a soft exhale. 

“Ready to stop?” you press your lips behind his ear.

“Yes.” you pull away, and he shuts everything off before getting out of the chair.

“C’mere.” you hug him tightly and he buries his face into your neck. 

“Thank you, handsome.”

“No problem, I love you.”

“Love you too.” he hums, leading you both to bed. 

The silver shower handle squeaked as you turned it off,  the warm droplets on your body cooling instantly as you stepped out. Another tedious day over and finally you could get some early rest. You slipped into an oversized shirt, one you had nabbed from Poe a long time ago, and a pair of soft pants. You were about to slip under the covers when the metal door whirled to life and in came Poe— looking awfully distraught. 

“I thought you had a meeting?” you ask, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“I did— I just left early; already got the gist of how that one was going to go.” he shrugged, his fist balling at his side for amount before he shoves them into his pocket.

“Are you alright, love?” he shrugs again, avoiding eye contact as he trudges toward the bed, plopping down beside you. He stares forward, his hands slipping out of his pocket and onto his lap. Carefully, you reach over and grab his hands, rubbing your thumb over each knuckle. 

“It’s okay, I’m here for you, love,” you whisper.

“I think— I wore myself out. I fucking pushed myself too hard and now, I’m fucking exhausted, like an idiot.” his voice broke, along with your heart as he lets out a soft sniffle. He finally looks at you and his eyes are bloodshot and shiny. 

“I know you tried to help and I didn’t listen and I’m sorry—” 

“Poe, you don’t need to apologize for anything, love,” you assure him, quickly dropping to the ground so you can hold his face. His lips quiver, frowning and closing his eyes as a tear rolls down his cheek; you brush it away. 

“Even as headstrong as you are, I know you do it because you care about everyone in this galaxy so much. Please know, that I am proud of all the hard work you do, my love. I am so fucking proud of you, Poe Dameron.” you emphasize the last sentence, watching his features relax as he leans into your palms. You wipe the rest of his tears away, holding him like this until the tears stop running. 

“What can I do to make you feel better? What do you need from me, love?” you ask, your fingers playing with the few curls you can reach. 

“You,” he whispers, the rest of his desires, echoing through his eyes. You smile warmly at him as you stand up and straddle his lap. His hand smoothes over your hips, gently securing you in place as your fingers comb through his hair and pepper him in gentle kisses.

The effect is instant, soft gasps and sighs escaping his mouth until finally your lips land on his. You kiss him slow and thoroughly, mapping out every inch of your mouth, tasting every bit of him. Your hands trail up the dark brown leather jacket, tugging it between your fingers as you deepen the kiss. With a slow rock of your hips, the noises become louder as you find a lazy rhythm, feeling Poe’s cock already straining against the material of his pants. 

Breaking away, you kiss over his jaw, admiring through your upper lashes how out of it and needy he looked— all from just a simple kiss. Your lips trail down his neck, feeling his pulse beating strongly and faster with each kiss you left him. A moan escapes him and you pause your motions, staring up at him with innocent eyes. 

“You like that?” you smirk, watching as Poe avoids your eyes for a moment, before finally looking down at you 

“Yes,” he whimpers, your lips already back over his neck; teething grazing over his fine skin. He curses, tilting his head back as you nip and suck over his pulse point; licking over the newly formed hickey. His grip over your hips tightens as your speed up your pace, the warmth in your core slowly building. 

Swiftly, you tug off your shirt, peeling his leather coat off of him and onto yourself. He was stunned for a moment, but you could easily tell he was loving it with how wide and blown out his eyes were. You take the time to unbutton his shirt and with his help, it's tossed onto the floor with your own. Without warning, he flips the two of you over so your back sinks into the cushiony mattress. You can’t stop smiling, watching him kick off his shoes with ease, properly slotting himself between your legs. He traces his fingers over your stomach and down, right to the edge of your pants and Poe gives you a look.

“Yes, baby.” you spur, biting your lip as his hand disappears under your waistband; the feeling of the rough pads of his fingers brushing your clit makes you shudder. They circle lightly, making broad sweeps over the sensitive nub and through your folds. You whine, opening your legs wider and Poe takes the invitation, pressing two of his warm fingers inside of you. His fingers pump slowly, stretching you gradually and rubbing against all of your sensitive spots. 

“Poe,” the simple plead of his name, breaks his silent trance. 

“I’ve got you handsome,” he coos lowly, thrusting his fingers faster. He twists them and curls them, leaving you almost completely breathless,  “you’re such a good boy,” the praise is all it takes, and you clench, shaking around him as you come. He pulls his fingers out, licking each one of them clean as you catch your breath. Once finished, his lips are on yours again, the taste of yourself driving you both mad as you tried to devour it off each other. Reaching out, you palm over his bugle and he whines loudly into the kiss. 

“I need you in me, now,” you demand, stroking him teasingly until he swatted your hand away. He fumbled over his buckles, shimming out of his pants and undergarments before yanking them off of his legs. He grabs your legs, placing them on side of him as he drags his throbbing hard cock against your folds; looking at you for some sign of approval to which you nod.

He sinks in slowly, both of you savoring the feeling of each other, gasping when he bottoms out. No matter how many times you do this, you both never can get enough of the feeling when he first enters you. His eyes are screwed shut and his mouth agape, as he slowly pushed in and out, building a steady rhythm. 

You moan, basking in the pleasure building its way up your stomach when your eyes focused on the shiny metal around his neck. Without a word you press your palm flat to the ring, pushing it up until you could caress his neck. His eyes open again, bright, brown and bewilder by your actions until you pull him down for a kiss. You lap the inside of his mouth, his hips rock faster, thrusting his cock as deep as he could get it. Nipping at his lips, you pull on the strands of dark curls you can reach and he keens. 

“You like that, pretty boy?” he whimpers, bucking his hips against yours, moaning loudly into your ear. You tug again and he shudders, his thrusts slowly beginning to lose rhythm. 

“Oh, fuck me so well,” you pant, rocking your hips up to meet his. The wet sounds between you grow louder, as you dig your heels into the bed for more leverage. The skin-smacking sound echoes through the room, Poe’s whines following just behind them. 

“Only you know how to fuck me like this,” you gasp, clenching instinctively when he hits that spot inside of you. 

“Fuck,” he groans, thrusting sharply and you can feel his cock twitch inside of you. “I’m close, I’m close,” his whines increase, even with his head buried into your neck he’s still so loud. Throwing your head back, you focus on the pit boiling in your stomach, as you’re right on the edge again. 

“Cum inside me,” those simple three words, make Poe scream and he comes buried deep inside of you, triggering your second orgasm for tonight. His hips sputter and shake and he leans into pepper you in kisses, mumbling thank you’s against your lips, between every kiss. 

It takes a few more minutes of rest before he can manage enough strength to pull out of you and roll himself over onto his back. Your eyelids fall shut and your body decompresses; sleep tugging you bit by bit and your mind calling for rest—- until you felt squirming beside you. 

“You’re still thinking?” you whisper, not even bothering to open your eyes; though you do reach out blindly and hold his hand. 

“Yes,” he chuckles for a second before quieting down, “I— I just figure that I— ah, fuck it, there’s just no easy way to approach this,” he sighs and you feel the bed dip as he sits back up. 

“Huh?” you force your eyes open, sitting up only to be met by his hand in front of your face.

“Will you— will you carry it for me? For us?” he opens it, revealing his necklace for you— a choice in the palm of his hand. Without hesitating, you gently grasp the metal chain, cradling it in both of your hands. Your thumb brushes over the silver band, a soft exhale of air as your heart flutters in your chest. 

“Poe— are you sure?” you look at him, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. 

“Yes. I don’t think there’s anything I’ve been more sure of,” he says like it's the only truth in the world.

“Oh, love.” you cup his face, kissing him with all the love in your heart you could muster. He kisses you just as passionately, pouring every bit of love and devotion into it. Even when you pull away, his lips graze against yours, breath warm against your face. You sit back, pulling the chain over your head, the cold silver ring bouncing against your chest; your heart ringing in your ears. You reach for it, admiring the sleek ring in your palm.

“Ever since I met you,” his hands rest under yours, closing your palm and his around it, “it’s always been yours.” you squeeze it softly, brushing your nose against his. 

“I love you, Poe Dameron.” your lips are so close to his that you can feel the smile stretching across his lips.

“I love you, (Y/N) Dameron.” he leans forward, happy to be kissing his future husband. 

[lokilickedme]

So I’m at work yesterday and my supervisor decides to break the one cardinal rule of keeping me as an employee, and that’s to never ever ask me to put on the headset.  We’re a sometimes crazy-busy tourist-centric ice cream parlor (the last stop for mountainbikers and hikers before you hit the mountain) that also makes fairly good food (not “fast” food...our cook is slow as hell and also legally blind so yeah no we don’t fit that category by sheer technicality thanks to Andrew’s inch-thick lenses that honestly probably need to be another inch thicker for him to see the damn grill)

Anyway

So supervisor is like listen, I gotta pee so bad I can taste it and I haven’t had a break since, like, last Thursday so I’m gonna clock out and go take a nap behind the dumpster (or something, I dunno I wasn’t listening over the wheezing roar of the cream spinner) and I nod and say okay yeah sure babe whatever go have your meltdown you’re owed one, and as I’m reaching for the hammer to take a whack at the chugging dispenser she puts the dreaded headset in my hand.

I look at her.  She looks at me.

“I got you one.  You’re the only person here that I trust to do everything.  You can do this.”

“I quit.”

“No you don’t, Andrew will kill himself and you can’t have that on your conscience.”  I glance over at the kitchen window.  Andrew the mostly-blind cook is nodding pathetically and making a praying-hands gesture at me.  “Put it on and give it a try, please?  Come on I haven’t peed since noon yesterday, I’m dyin’ here.”

She’s cute as hell, my supervisor.  And she’s giving me the big brown puppydog eyes, so I begrudgingly take the headset.  I’m such a fucking guy sometimes.

She runs for the exit.

A minute later I hear her voice over the headset.  “Push the button closest to your temple to talk to the driveup intercom, push it again to mute.  Middle button talks to me.  Don’t worry about the other four buttons.”

You can all see where this is going, can’t you.

I push the middle button and tell her sweetly to fuck herself.  She giggles from somewhere far away, probably peeing in a ditch I dunno I can’t be bothered to stop what I’m doing long enough to look up.  I’m trying to figure out how to make three brownie sundaes out of the last two brownies without anybody noticing they got shorted and had their brownie replaced with an Oreo when I hear a sound that strikes fear into my soul.

The driveup dinger, ringing in my right ear.  The blind cook starts cackling from the kitchen - he has a headset too, but he’s not trained on either window or register and thus has immunity.

Geezus hellfire it’s gotta be me.  I ignore it, they’ll go away in a minute.

“Answer it!!” my supervisor hisses in my ear.

“No, I quit.”

“Answer it!!”

Goddammit.

“Why can’t Andrew do it?”

“Andrew isn’t trained on register.”

“He can take the order and repeat it to me, I’ll put it in the register.”

“Take the order!!”

Fuck

“Yeah hello, welcome to - whatever this is, you want some ice cream?  We got ice cream.”

Kitchen boy is howling while my supervisor screams the deathscream of a person of authority who’s just made a career-ending decision against their own better judgement and is currently watching it explode in their face while they’re sitting on the toilet.  That’ll teach her.  The day I took this job I said no headset, I have to be able to read a person’s lips while they’re talking to understand them and I warned her, I fucking warned her it would go badly.  She really should have listened to me.  It’s too late now though, I’m taking the goddamn order.

Andrew is hooting from the kitchen.  I’m gonna smack him in the dick with a spatula the next time he walks past me I swear to god.  So I take the order and it goes pretty much without a hitch with the exception of me having to ask the customer three times to repeat themselves because I can’t see their damn mouth telling me what they want, then I commence to preparing it and then I ring the customer out and give them their ice cream.  End of.  And then I take the headset off and drop it by the sink because I’ve done what I said I’d do.  I can hear supervisor screaming at me through the little earpiece across the room while I make sundaes for the nice elderly couple who had the decency to come into the lobby instead of pulling up to the drive through and putting me through hell, and as is my custom, I ignore it.

A minute later supervisor is standing in the doorway, hands on hips, glaring at me.  “Put it back on.”

“I quit.”

“No you don’t, think of Andrew.  Put it on, you did fine.”

“Will I still get my final paycheck if I tell you to fuck yourself in front of a customer?”

“You’ve done that twice this morning already.  Put it on.”

“Does it matter if the customer is over a certain age?  Like, 75?”

“Put it on.”

“Why don’t you just take the driveup orders while you’re peeing instead of yelling at me through the headset?  If you can talk to me you can talk to the intercom.”

She’s already gone, so my argument for taking orders from the ladies room is pointless.  I can see cars lining up outside.  Andrew is still laughing from the kitchen.  I make a nice pretty little ice cream cone, dip it in cherry sauce, and hurl it at his head through the window.  I don’t think he even saw it, he’s pretty damn visually impaired but I’m sure he was wondering a couple of minutes later what the hell was making that godawful sizzling noise from the fryer.

In the end I put the headset back on, and I took the incoming orders, and it went okay for the most part - nobody died, I didn’t screw any orders up, and once the rush was over my supervisor comes back on and tells me I’m doing great, but I don’t hear her because I’m busy making the last driveup order and muttering an impressive litany of vile curses to myself over the drone of the shake machine.  The machine, like everything else in this fucking brokedown palace, is held together by chicken wire and a whole lot of prayers and a halfassed deal with Satan and today’s the day it has chosen to go out in a blaze of glory.  It explodes the shake all over me with all the noisy blast of spewed milk and chocolate sauce and ice cream that you’d expect to be involved in a malfunction involving a rotor spinning at just about 5000 rpm, and the bulk of the spewage that doesn’t hit me in the face heads straight for the front of my pants.

I scream JESUS CHRIST!!! and drop the whole thing on the floor, where the remaining contents of the cup go right ahead and explode all over my shoes.  I’m soaked tits to toes.  I can hear supervisor giggling over the headset, which is now the only dry thing I’m wearing.  “Goddammit Trina the shake machine just shit the bed and unloaded itself all over my crotch!!”

She’s laughing so hard now.  So so hard.  It kinda hurts my ear how loud she’s laughing.

“My damn crotch is soaked straight through to the goddamn cotton panel of my panties Trina!!  People are gonna wonder how the hell I’m pissing milk and chocolate sauce I mean it feels kinda good but THIS IS A HYGIENE ISSUE TRINA send me home I quit I’m done this is it GET OUT OF THE DAMN BATHROOM AND MAKE THIS SHAKE FOR THE DRIVE-THROUGH BECAUSE I’M LEAVING I told you not to put me on this thing!!!!”

There’s another set of laughter coming over the headset when I stop ranting.  It’s not kitchen boy, he’s staring at me through the window like he’s equal parts scared and turned on and supervisor has turned off her headset and retreated to the office because I’m obviously teetering on the brink of murderous intent and I guess she figures plausible deniability is the way to go in this situation, since obviously the cops will be coming soon.  So where’s the second set of laughter coming from...?

Oh...

Oh no

I forgot to mute my headset link to the driveup intercom.  I’ve been broadcasting my soaked crotch adventures to the entire parking lot, including the lady whose shake just blew its load on my pants.

“Aw fuck.  Tell me I didn’t just say all that over the headset.  Somebody please say it, I don’t even care who just somebody say it.”

Supervisor isn’t answering me anymore, so kitchen boy replies over his headset.  “Yeah, and you said fuck just now too.”

“Fuck.”

I can still hear the lady outside laughing.  I suddenly can’t remember which button mutes me, not like it matters anymore.  “Andrew baby, I’ll give you a dollar to cash this lady out at the window and give her her shake.”

“No way.”

“Five dollars.”

Silence over the headset.  Driveup lady has gone silent, obviously waiting to see how the negotiations go.  “Nope.”

“Come on Andrew, I’m dyin’ here.  My pants are wet.  Don’t make me do this.”

“I don’t know how to do cashouts.”

“I’ll teach you right now.  Come on, I can teach you before she even gets to the window.  Come on.”  At this point I’m willing to offer the kid a quick feel in the walk-in fridge if he’ll just do this thing for me.  I can’t look driveup lady in the face, not with the contents of her original order trickling slowly into my various crevices, not after I effbombed her through the intercom god knows how many times.  I’m hitting all the buttons on the headset but don’t know what the hell I’m doing so I finally just take it off and throw it in the sink.  “Come on baby, little man, sweetiepie, please?”

Andrew is making gestures at his ear, pretending like he can’t hear me now that I’m off the headset despite his skinny ass being less than ten feet away from me.  Dick.  Somebody’s gettin locked in the freezer tomorrow.

In the end I cashed the lady out and handed her her new chocolate shake, and as I’m giving her her change she says “It sounds like you’re having quite a day.”

I’m squidging when I walk and my vagina feels like when you rub vaseline between your thumb and forefinger and I’m pretty sure chocolate administered internally via the urethra causes UTIs so yeah lady, I’m having quite a day.  Take your damn shake and your change and get gone, I gotta go out behind the dumpster with a pressure washer and take care of this.

.

Today I arrive at work and Trina gives me a look, but doesn’t mention yesterday.  Our boss works with us all morning and after about two hours she holds up a headset and asks if I want to do driveup for her while she’s on break.  Trina yells from the office before I even have a chance to respond:

“NO SHE DOESN’T DO HEADSET!!!”

Damn right I don’t.

.

[ktmarison]

in  trousers  sentence  starters.

'  he  needs  love.  '  

'  i  need  sleep.  '  

'  i'm  awake.  '  

'  i'm  still  here  alive.  '  

'  i'm  sick  of  counting  goddamn  sheep.  '  

'  goodnight  !  '  

'  i'm  reading  !  '  

'  i'm  still  awake  and  thinking  maybe  i'll  become  a  nun.  '  

'  go  to  sleep.  '  

'  maybe  one  day,  i'll  win  at  love.  '  

'  we  love  you.  '  

'  i  can't  talk.  '  

'  they  never  really  disappear.  i'd  like  so  much  to  whiz  without  them  there.  '

'  look  out,  he  breaks  the  golden  rule.  '  

'  who  can  rebuild  the  people  i've  killed  in  bed  ?  '  

'  i  need  bombs  exploding.  '  

'  it's  important  to  win,  but  i'm  scared  to  begin.  '  

'  i  could  sleep  through  the  day.  '  

'  i  accept  my  faults  and  welcome  sudden  death.  '  

'  it's  a  helluva  day.  '

'  it's  our  moment  to  shine,  just  forget  last  night.  '  

'  this  itty-bitty  glass  of  wine  helps  us  start  our  day  out  right.  '  

'  time  to  wake  up  and  face  the  day.  '  

'  our  eight  year  old  is  crying,  please  show  your  face.  '  

'  i  think  he  plays  with  girls  and  dolls.  who  can  know  what  love  he's  lacked  ?  '  

'  what  time  is  it  ?  '  

'  we  can't  stand  here  waiting  forever,  so  move  your  ass,  (name)  !  '  

'  something's  missing  in  my  life.  i  don't  know  what  it  is,  though  i  have  suspicions.  '  

'  i  have  a  family,  and  a  family  pet.  '  

'  i  have  a  family,  with  a  wife  who's  perfect  in  many  ways.  '  

'  in  my  mind,  i'm  a  kissing  a  man.  '  

'  i  have  a  family  while  i've  never  defiled.  '  

'  i'm  honest  when  i  say  i'm  a  child  for  a  fella's  caress.  '  

'  i  love  being  me  !  '  

'  i  turned  fourteen  today  and  will  eat  the  very  best  breakfast  in  town  !  '  

‘  do  i  really  have  to  show  you  people  how  ?  ’  

‘  no  one  looks  busy  in  this  kitchen,  and  my  breakfast  isn’t  ready,  and  my  stomach  aches.  ’

‘  try  to  make  me  hungry.  ’

‘  cat  got  your  tongue  ?  ’

‘  he  always  knows  the  sorts  of  answers  he’ll  allow.  ’

‘  wait  until  i’m  older,  then  i’ll  kill  you.  ’

‘  i  need  my  breakfast  now  !  ’

‘  oh,  jesus  christ,  it  wasn’t  loaded.  ’

‘  she's  an  actor  from  the  old  school  and  a  lousy  chef.  ’

‘  i  don't  want  miracles  from  heaven,  just  some  eggies  over  spinach  over  toast.  ’

‘  no,  i  will  not  apologize  !  ’

‘  she  should  win  a  prize.  ’

‘  that  girl  can’t  cook  !  ’

‘  he  wouldn’t  read  that  kind  of  novel  anyhow.  ’

‘  stop  your  staring.  ’

‘  get  to  work.  ’

‘  life  is  lonely,  life  is  rotten,  and  thankfully  short.  ’

‘  he  throws  a  fit,  then  a  knife.  ’

‘  you  call  this  breakfast  on  my  birthday  ?  this  is  shit,  this  isn’t  breakfast  !  ’

‘  i  mean,  for  god’s  sake,  am  i  talking  to  the  wall  ?  ’  

‘  (name)  underestimates  the  fear  that  he'll  endow.  ’

‘  i’ll  wait  here  until  you  get  it  right.  ’  

'  he's  laughing  all  the  time.  '  

'  he's  a  veritable  fool.  '  

'  (name)  is  my  very  best  friend  in  school.  '  

'  lately  i've  been  thinking  maybe  he  needs  attention  of  a  private  sort.  '  

'  should  his  mother  be  blamed  ?  '  

'  he  has  something  which  most  everybody  needs,  he  cannot  ever  be  embarrassed.  '  

'  he's  my  very  best  friend  in  school  and  i'm  embarrassed  and  ashamed.  '  

'  my  high  school  sweetheart  is  a  person.  '  

'  he  says  i'm  just  ridiculous.  '  

‘  i  tell  him  he’s  a  person,  he  says  i’m  just  a  ridiculous.  ’

'  he's  a  person.  '  

'  i  want  to  hold  him,  but  he's  not  alive.  '  

'  a  person  has  their  wants  and  needs,  i'm  not  a  greedy  person.  '  

'  here  i  am,  (name),  hold  me.  i  want  you  to  want  me  badly.  '  

'  put  me  onto  your  bed,  not  a  pedestal,  will  you  ?  '  

'  but  i'm  his  sweetheart.  '  

'  she  cast  me  in  her  play.  she  gave  me  words  to  say,  made  me  what  i  am  today.  '  

'  stop  begging,  stop  making  me  crazy.  '  

'  i  love  the  way  he  acts,  i  do.  '  

'  do  not  make  faces  and  do  not  undo  the  facts.  '  

'  relax.  '  

'  it  was  one  of  the  best  nights  of  my  life.  '  

'  nothing  is  for  nothing  and  a  new  land  is  a  new  land  to  explore.  '  

'  hey,  i  love  you.  '  

'  a  good  man  never  fails.  '    

'  i  am  living  proof  that  cowards  still  can  rise.  '  

'  you  might  tell  me  you're  a  victim,  you  might  get  what  you  deserve,  but  i  won't  excuse  a  boy  who's  lost  his  nerve.  '  

'  stay  clear  of  love  and  jail.  '  

'  lovers  don't  go  hungry.  '  

'  kids  live  and  learn  to  attack.  '  

'  take  a  break.  '  

'  we'll  drink  it  and  talk.  '  

'  does  he  like  the  rain  ?  '  

'  does  he  kiss  ?  touch  ?  drink  ?  screw  ?  '  

'  does  he  like  to  screw  ?  '  

'  we're  alone  at  last.  '  

'  i  thought  for  a  not  unseemly  price,  you'd  introduce  me  to  the  wonders  of  the  bed,  and  also  treat  me  nice.  '  

'  (name)  is  cute,  though  rarely  good.  '  

'  but,  dearest,  please  accept  my  hand.  '  

'  tell  me,  how  did  you  get  in  here,  please  ?  '  

'  i  drugged  the  man  who  was  guarding  the  floor.  '  

'  i'm  the  only  one  here  in  the  school  except  you  and  the  guard  who  you  beat  in  a  fight.  '  

'  he  was  drugged,  not  with  pills,  but  with  some  apples  from  a  basket.  would  you  like  a  few  ?  '  

'  what  i  do  for  you  is  your  pleasure.  '  

'  i  like  your  eyes.  '  

'  i  was  never  out  of  place.  '  

'  that's  true,  she  minded  her  business  and  taught.  '

'  i  always  like  the  way  you  got  angry  in  your  glasses.  '  

'  you  little  shit,  i'll  throw  a  fit,  i'll  beat  your  head  in  with  a  hammer  !  '  

'  just  keep  your  dirty  fingers  away  from  my  face,  kid  !  '

'  listen,  i'm  a  bastard,  bummer  with  a  penis,  and  i  need  us  two  to  be  together.  '  

'  i  need  us  two  to  screw  together.  '  

'  make  me  a  happy  boy.  '  

'  please,  please,  please,  rub  your  hands  between  my  knees.  '  

'  he  always  gets  the  things  he  wants.  '  

'  accept  the  things  he  wants.  '  

'  do  you  want  my  telephone  number  ?  '  

'  lest  we  forget,  she  will  always  remind  us  how  they  two  met.  '  

'  love  me  for  what  i  am,  not  what  i  try  to  be.  '  

'  he  gave  me  a  phony  home  address.  '  

'  i  am  a  person  who  likes  to  lie  too  much,  i  try  too  much  to  impress  other  people.  often  my  inferiors.  '  

'  could  you  like  a  girl  like  that  ?  '  

'  would  you  hold  her  in  your  arms  ?  '  

'  darling,  we  might  survive.  '  

'  this  whole  damn  thing's  a  joke.  '  

'  perhaps  he'll  trip  or  she  might  choke.  '  

'  forget  this  guy,  he's  no  damn  good.  no  action  and  all  words.  '  

'  call  me  a  disgrace  and  then  be  done  with  blame.  '  

'  how  was  i  to  know  that  he's  a  gigolo,  emotionally  underbred  ?  '  

'  when  the  passion  stings,  i  think  of  pretty  things  instead.  '  

'  after  winter,  i'll  marry.  i'm  entitled  to  that.  '  

'  here  i  sit,  drunk  and  self-indulgent,  dressed  up  in  a  hat  which  even  i  detest.  '  

'  marry  money,  money  wins.  ’  

‘  your  past  will  disappear,  and  with  it  all  your  sins.  '  

'  joy  once  seemed  so  near.  '  

'  he'd  approve  if  i  let  him.  '  

'  though,  it's  hard  to  forget  him.  '  

'  where's  her  goddamn  husband  ?  '  

'  always  acting  infantile,  that's  one  thing  that  makes  him  smile.  '  

'  i  do  not  think  that  this  will  work.  '  

'  i  think  we  should've  spoke  before.  but  today's  too  late.  '  

'  i  hate  weddings.  '  

'  is  her  veil  on  straight,  and  is  she  drunk  ?  '  

'  will  he  be  the  man  i've  dreamt  about  ?  '  

'  isn't  this  a  perfect  day  ?  '  

'  what  do  i  think  about  five  seconds  before  i  die  ?  '  

'  i'm  about  to  die  and  i  didn't  feel  like  shopping.  '  

'  please  stop  your  bye-ing.  '  

'  have  pity  on  the  one  who's  dying.  '  

'  when  her  passion  soon  cools,  and  it  will...  if  she's  smart.  '  

'  will  i  break  the  girl's  heart  ?  '  

'  did  i  ever  have---  no,  will  i  ever  have  fun  ?  '  

'  things  on  which  we  most  depend  seem  to  fail  us  in  the  end.  '  

'  we've  been  married  for  ten  years.  eight  were  fine,  and  six  were  not.  it  seemed  longer  than  ten  years.  '  

'  the  first  two  were  the  best  years.  '  

'  i  felt  him  slipping  away.  '  

'  i  felt  him  die  in  my  arms.  '  

'  how  could  i  ever  compete  ?  '  

'  the  cause  of  all  his  lust,  she  must  be  sweet.  '  

'  he's  used  to  love  me.  '  

'  don't  be  pathetic.  '  

'  he  could  just  as  well  leave  me.  '  

'  when  he's  with  us,  he's  somewhere  alone.  '  

'  i'll  be  fine  if  he  leaves  me,  but  i'm  sure  he  won't.  '  

'  the  bitch  might  be  dumb.  '  

'  he  will  not  admit  the  truth.  '  

'  why  are  men  so  damn  uncouth  ?  all  they  ever  tell  are  lies.  '  

'  he  hates  my  wife.  '  

'  i  hate  his  food.  '  

'  he  thinks  i'm  rude,  but  nice.  '  

'  i  think  he's  nice,  but  indiscreet.  '

'  he  thinks  i'm  sweet,  but  he  treats  me  kind  of  funny.  '  

'  isn't  it  delightful  playing  easy  ?  '  

'  he's  on  his  knees,  i'm  lying  flat.  just  like  a  bad  idea.  '  

'  i  think  i'll  die.  '  

'  listen  to  him  laugh.  i'm  reminded  of  the  old  times,  'cause  at  last  he's  got  passion.  '  

'  he's  sick.  '  

'  i'm  delighted.  no  i'm  not,  but  it's  better  than  it  was.  '  

'  let's  recapitulate  the  things  he  does  to  earn  my  blessing.  '  

'  first  he  hurts  his  wife,  it's  a  good  move  if  you  ask  me,  but  you  didn't,  so  i'm  quiet.  then  he  hurts  his  child,  that's  a  less  good  move,  but  necessary.  '

  '  call  it  passion  and  don't  regret  it.  '  

'  him  and  the  boy  live  happily  ever  after...  that's  a  sickening  thought.  '  

'  all  of  us  alive  need  something  we  can  live  for.  '  

'  i'm  counting  on  this  boy  to  make  me  dream.  '  

'  he  needs  love  ?  i  got  love  !  '  

'  i'd  like  to  be  a  princess  on  a  throne.  '  

'  men  will  be  men.  '  

'  i  saw  them  in  the  den.  '  

'  he's  a  queen,  i'm  a  queen.  where's  my  crown  ?  '  

'  my  life  is  shitty,  and  my  kid  seems  like  an  idiot  to  me  !  '  

'  i  mean,  he's  great.  it's  me  who  is  the  matter.  '  

'  if  i  repeat  one  more  word,  i  swear  i'll  lose  my  brain.  '  

'  i  can  cry  on  cue,  but  so  can  you.  '  

'  you  ask  me  if  it's  fun  to  cry  over  nothing.  it  is.  '  

‘  a  healthy  fruit  is  healthy  until  it  rots.  ’  

‘  speaking  of  friends,  (name)  is  sweet  and  trim.  ’  

‘  i  think  in  fact  i’ll  marry  him.  he  wants  me.  ’  

'  i  think  it's  strange  because  the  sex  was  good.  '  

'  i'd  take  his  mouth  and  feet,  and  make  them  do...  well,  i  forget.  '  

'  i  think  it's  rotten  how  i  lately  feel.  '  

'  it's  like  a  nightmare  how  this  all  proceeds.  '  

'  i  hope  that  he  don't  fulfill  his  needs.  '  

'  i  wanna  sleep.  sure,  things  will  probably  worsen,  but  it's  not  like  i'm  a  healthy  person.  '  

'  i  only  wanna  love  a  man  who  can  love  me.  or  like  me.  or  hold.  or  touch  me.  or  stand  me.  '  

'  he  was  never  mine.  '  

'  i  used  to  cry,  we'd  make  a  scene.  '  

'  and  me,  i'm  just  a  freak,  who  needs  it  maybe  every  other  week.  '  

'  does  he  feel  awful  ?  and  has  he  grieved  ?  '  

'  i  do  not  feel  awful.  a  little  unlawful,  but  a  lot  relieved.  '  

'  (name)  will  act  very  parental,  completely  gentle,  absolutely  swell.  '

'  those  were  things  i  used  to  do,  which  i'll  leave  behind.  '  

'  tell  her  your  sin's  called  hanging  on.  '  

'  honest  to  god,  no  one's  the  villain.  '  

'  i'm  not  a  saint,  let's  not  mince  words  here.  '  

'  am  i  your  nightmare  or  your  dream  ?  '  

'  if  you  see  me  at  your  door,  swear  you'll  let  me  in.  '  

'  pack  it  up  and  call  it  quits.  like  good  quitters  do.  '  

'  god,  what  have  i  done  ?  '  

'  i  dreamt  last  night  we  flew  to  china.  '  

'  your  parents  own  a  car,  don't  they  ?  can't  we  drive  away  ?  '  

'  may  we  talk  as  friends  ?  '  

'  i  dreamt  last  night  you  almost  held  me.  '  

'  jesus  christ,  you'll  come  through.  '  

'  hold  me.  hold  him  too.  but  stay.  '  

'  please  drink  your  tea  before  it's  cold.  '  

'  you  can't  go  on  as  if  you're  dying.  '  

'  this  is  much  better  for  the  both  of  us.  '  

'  people  used  to  lick  the  streets  after  she  walked  by  in  order  to  show  respect  for  this  great  lady.  '  

'  he  did  little  all  day  but  jot  down  ridiculous  poems  and  wait  for  (name)  to  call  his  name.  '  

'  he  wasn't  cheating  exactly.  '  

'  they  met  at  odd  hours,  off  and  on  for  three  weeks.  '  

'  he  was  half  out  of  his  mind  with  grief.  '  

'  she  paid  for  his  fine  clothes,  provided  him  with  a  fine  apartment,  rent-free,  and  he  loved  her.  '  

'  you  think  she  was  moved  ?  you  think  so  ?  '  

'  you  don't  know  the  whole  story.  i  was  not  having  an  affair  with  a  lady  in  waiting.  '  

'  he  asked  if  he  could  sit  down.  he  asked  if  there  was  anything  to  drink.  he  asked  if  he  could  take  off  his  clothes.  '  

'  well,  we  slept  a  little.  '  

'  god  bless  america.  '  

'  the  thing  about  explorers  is:  they  discover  things  that  are  already  there.  '  

'  it's  taken  all  of  my  will  to  still  stand  high.  '  

'  he  wrote  me  goodbye.  '  

'  he  filled  it  with  details,  explicit  things  that  i  can't  try.  '  

'  another  sleepless  night  at  home  in  bed.  '  

'  you  try  to  think  of  things  you  might  have  said,  you  try  to  carry  on.  '  

'  i  was  my  face  then  drink  beer  then  i  weep,  say  a  prayer,  and  induce  insincere  self  abuse  until  i'm  fast  asleep.  '  

'  i've  done  too  much  talking.  '  

'  he  never  stops.  i  need  my  sleep.  '

'  five  times  a  night,  he'll  request  it.  i  wanna  rest  it.  '  

'  what  he  wants  is  a  body  that  won't  fuss.  '  

'  he's  feeling  hot.  i'll  close  my  eyes,  and  then  surprise:  i'll  be  awake  and  preforming.  '  

'  i'll  wanna  sleep  but  maybe  trying  to  put  up  with  a  guy  like  myself  must  be  a  bore.  '  

'  he  sleeps  in  this  bed  with  me,  a  survivor.  '  

'  i'm  feeling  alive-er  than  i've  ever  felt  in  my  life  before.  '  

'  another  book  you  thought  was  best  unread  has  proved  indeed  it  was.  '  

'  i  am  so  alone  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  '  

'  they  said  they'd  never  lose  their  love.  and  then  they  lost  their  love.  '  

'  women  sit  like  angels,  men  like  vultures.  '  

'  and  who's  to  blame  them  ?  '  

'  i  write  to  keep  the  pain  alive.  '

[putyourlipstomine]

1/23/2024

I’ve always wanted to write here for a minute but always slacked. We don’t talk anymore so this might just be an entry for me and the ghost of old times passed. That sounds dumb, honestly I know there are better words for what I’m trying to say but I was never the writer between us two. You always did inspire me though, to think I could. Anyway, it’s a new year. I thought about texting you after our falling out but a lot of things were said that we really shouldn’t have. I was really mad with myself because of the things i could’ve said to you but didn’t. I was mad with myself for even wanting to say hurtful shit to you even if some of the things you said hurt me, but I hate the feeling of that these days. I hate having to feel like I have to fight back against everything, instead of everything just being relatively calm. I know nothing is going to be perfect, but i’m trying to find that softness, the kindness in my heart again to be soft with people. I have felt so much anger, so much negative emotions, and it has consumed me so much in the last few months. I took like two weeks off the gym when i was going 6 days a week, but i’ve been so depressed lately. I haven’t felt myself in months and I don’t know why. But I want to get better you know? I wanna be able to get myself right to learn how to love myself and to stop feeling like I deserve every bad thing that happens to me because of the mistakes I’ve made. I’m more than that. I want to celebrate my accomplishments and actually feel proud of myself, not just brush it off like I got lucky. Cause I work hard. I’m trying my hardest this year. It took me some years, but I’m finally here. I wanted so badly to text you and tell you about it, but i had my first appointment with my doctor and I’m starting my hormones soon. I’m finally doing something for me. Of course, the insurance is being a pain in the ass and not wanting to cover it so your boy might just go broke tryna get rid of this dysmorphia but goddamn. I was so happy today at my appointment. I guess that’s why I’m at least here sharing it with you through this forgotten blog. I doubt you’ll look here anytime soon. Unless… the universe does that weird thing where we get drawn back to each other when we’re dealing with shit. You know that stupid weird intuition type shit like we shared a brain bluetooth that doesn’t unpair. That’s a stupid analogy but again, i am not the writer. I need to stop trying to be funny but it’s funny because this is awful. Anyway, again - I’m starting therapy again. Granted, even though I know that I’m completed mentally and emotionally broken i don’t want to do the medication. I’ve felt so much of nothing, of pain and anger and frustration that something in me switched and I can’t cry. I never wanted to get to this point. It hasn’t been this bad since i started seeing my psychiatrist for the first time as a kid. And I’m scared because I don’t know how to just release everything I’m holding in because even though I can’t cry, i can’t release these feelings I’ve got wound up in me, it’s got this grip around my heart. It’s got me in this dread that the grip is gonna keep getting tighter and it’s gonna break my heart. And I’m not even heartbroken over my relationship, but because I’m losing myself and knowing how to value the things I love in my life. I’m so “well, i guess it wasn’t meant to be then” instead of fighting for the things I love because I want them there. I’m so afraid of showing I still care, that I still love, that i want people around because I’m tired of people leaving me. Of feeling like I’m not wanted. Or i’m not enough. I want to feel the way i felt before, you know. Where you have so much love to give someone it pours out in abundance and you have no regrets because you know the love you give is going to someone who’s gonna keep you safe, who’s gonna accept all your love for what it is and be soft with it. I miss the innocence of that and I hate that everything these days, nobody cares to fight for. Because either things are too complicated, or everything’s too much.