#YOU CAME. YOU CALLED. AAA

[california-112]

Fallen And Lonely

First, watch and give some love to this EXCELLENT short vid by @dicebarnart, which has lived rent-free in my mind ever since I first saw it a couple of days ago. There was a request for fic to go with it, and this is that :) It's about 700 words, just a slightly overgrown snippet. The title is from 'Someone To Stay' by Vancouver Sleep Clinic because the next lines are 'Will you fix me up? / Will you show me hope?' and YES SHE WILL. Anyway.

Dedicated to @azure-firecracker who tossed this prompt my way and who is the BEST. I hope you enjoy it <3

---

Something had happened.

There was a pair of squad cars and an ambulance, their red and blue lights staining the night in turn, and there was a handful of cops standing about, taking evidence photos and speaking with the pair of EMTs.

And there was Mulder.

Sitting on the hood of a police car, one arm sat curled around his ribs, and his head was bowed as he listened to a nearby officer's question. When he looked up to answer, though, the sight presented to Scully caused her to speed up what had previously been a dread-filled, almost hesitant, approach.

Mulder's mouth was a messy blood-red stain in an otherwise pale face, lips swollen and thankfully split; 'thankfully' only because any other alternative, given the arm still around his stomach and his hunched over posture, she refused to consider. His right eye socket was already filled with angry red bruising, which would no doubt develop and expand over the coming hours and days, and she has no doubt that there was more under the usually pristine black suit. This was now crumpled and slightly ripped, dusted with grit and dirt, and patched with mud and water, which glimmered darkly in the glare of the lights.

He was a mess.

The police officer beside him saw Scully approaching, guessed this must be the FBI guy's partner, and clearly read the expression on her face: overriding worry, with a slightly reduced panic and a simmering anger at the perpetrator of the violence. He made himself scarce, knowing that the two would want a moment alone.

Scully stopped just short of touching Mulder's shins, and caught the eye contact that he, surprisingly, offered. What she saw there was exactly what she had heard over the phone earlier that night: mainly pain, but also deep exhaustion- and a definite element of surprise.

"Mulder…"

It was the only word she could manage, her throat already constricting as tears sprung to her eyes. He managed to return a look that was equal parts shock and relief, but she only saw a moment of it; being careful of his ribs, she pulled him into a fierce hug, pressing her mouth against the scratchy fabric of his shoulder, desperately trying not to cry.

They were quiet for a minute, among the flashing red and blue of the police cars. If anything, Scully expected the silence to be broken by a question or a joke, not by a quiet, serious statement in a scratchy, tired voice, vibrating beside her ear and through their touching chests, Mulder's still-stiff muscles practically thrumming with the words.

"You came."

He had phoned her almost sheepishly, not really wanting to disturb her so late at night, not sure if his situation even warranted it. They hadn't hit him that hard; he could still see well enough out at least his left eye to drive, and he was pretty sure his ribs were just bruised, not broken. They didn't really know each other that well yet, he'd thought; she would probably just tell him to phone the hospital instead, and maybe call him back in the morning. There had been some serious deliberation before his throbbing head finally made the decision, taken out his cell, and been grateful it only needed a single press of a button.

He hadn't expected Scully's voice starting to quaver as she wheedled information from him, asking where exactly he was, if he was still in danger, telling him to stay put and awake. He hadn't expected this.

Hearing Mulder's words, particularly those two words, half a question, Scully hugged her partner even tighter, if that were possible. She felt, passionately, that she never wanted him to leave the safety of her arms ever again. She wanted to yell at him for running off, to plead with him not to keep doing this, to lock him away in the basement office where he could never get hurt. But instead, she took half a moment to get a hold of herself, then replied with a simple sentence of her own, spoken to him via the hands crumpling fist-sized marks in the back of his already ruined jacket. It would never cover the depth of emotion she needed him to feel, but it was a start.

"You called."

Beneath her arms, in the warmth and safety of the embrace, Mulder finally melted.

[aeolianblues]

Right?

Right??

[mistyycowoa]

I remember seeing a lot of people saying things like "oh people assume you're cishet before you come out because it's most common/seen as the default..." But I disagree. Cishet isn't the default in any way, even if common. My take of the day:

Aroace agender is the human default.

Everyone starts off as a baby. And babies are inherently aaa because. Obviously. Babies do not see bodies as anything (other than mother's milk which is food), it's not sexual. Babies do not want romance, only platonic love is enough. Babies don't understand gender stereotypes, and therefore everything is agender. It's just "thing", not "masculine thing" or "feminine thing".

As they grow up, kids of certain ages start understanding and putting weight on gender, giving them a gender identity/ideal. Their bodies look the same as their peers (purely body shape, ignoring hair and clothing etc), so they are the same, therefore there is no "two(or more) genders", and it's just "child".

Most children don't start feeling any kind of romantic attraction until a certain age (if ever). Sexual attraction comes much later too, when teens "discover themselves"(aka coming out as not ace) (if they're not ace).

All this to say, cishet is not default. Kis shouldn't have to "come out" as not cishet, because they shouldn't be assumed to be cishet in the first place. Adults shouldn't push their views onto kids who have yet to even understand these concepts, much less worry about it yet.

[nyxserpent]

Well my shift is over. Can't really deliver with this

Waiting for AAA to put the donut on so I can go home

[applepixls]

Anyone else thinking about how odd the hermitcraft economy is?

in season 9 they had a minor economic recession after the diamond ore war because there were far too many diamonds in circulation making them (hypothetically) worth less than normal and ren stepped in as the king and did what has been done in the midst of a lot of irl economic depressions; he created a government so they could employ the policy of Keynesian economics (basically more gov't intervention to stabilize the economy, it mostly worked in 1930's japan!), he took control of diamonds and even introduced a new currency, royal emeralds (much like Germany after WW1! they had some hyperinflation because of the war reparations they had to pay and the gov't not understanding that printing more money makes the money worth less resulting in the mark [currency] being so worthless they started burning it because they couldn't afford wood for fires. a new gov't came into power and they replaced the mark with rentenmarks which did a lot of fixificating for the economy). Ren's gov't also introduced a lot of gov't funded projects like the quests (the irl equivalent for this would be Roosevelt's New Deal which introduced policies/projects called the Alphabet Agencies (among other things) such as the AAA, CCC, TVA (do you see why they're called the alphabet agencies?) that would adjust the value of grain so farmers could start earning money for produce again and create work that would support a growing economy, projects like building roads and bridges)

so basically, all the policies ren's government introduced were very logically sound and worked in real life to fix the economy (except that irl the Great Depression only fully ended because WW2 started-), the issue is that hermitcraft is not real life and hermits do not behave like real people, they behave like hermits.

lets start with the hermitcraft economy. unlike the real economy, hermits rarely adjust prices according to how many diamonds are "in circulation". i say this despite the fact grian in a recent-ish episode says that "everything costs more this season because diamonds are more common". that can't be true because the caves and cliffs update literally made diamonds more difficult to acquire. I will circle back to this point made by grian later

hermits not adjusting prices by server-wide abundance of diamonds (because they cant really know how much anyone has, much less the total amount of diamonds in circulation, they just know who has a lot and who is broke) means that more diamonds doesn't make them worth less like it did with German marks, it just means hermits have more expendable currency and can spend more money and less time gathering materials for projects. It is also notable that diamonds are constantly being added and taken out of circulation because they're an actual useful currency rather than real life currencies which are symbolic slips of paper. diamonds can be used for armour and tools and it can be acquired by mining. so because of how hermits spend money, taking diamonds out of the economy in s9 did nothing but make them poor and angry at the government. the hermitcraft economy is actually stronger with more diamonds in circulation and is worsened by gov't intervention.

so already the use of real life strategies is utterly useless in hermitcraft economy but there are a few other reasons as well

the hermits tendency to resist government as well as the flawed and greedy government itself are a couple but also the fact that all the hermits are self employed (in real life but also in universe). they own and stock their own shops meaning all profits are more or less direct; its not passed through hands of big corporations so the person producing the product gets mere cents. the hermits are essentially small business owners (which becomes a bit of a problem come season 10 but we're still talking about season 9). The important part is the self employment. the season 9 gov't introduces the quests which mimic and echo real life government funded projects but because they're all employed and the quests gave small amounts of diamonds back, they did very little for the hermits

I'm sure theres more to say but i think its time to move on to the very interesting season 10 economy

if you've missed it you must be living under a rock but hermits are all using permits this season meaning only one shop in the shopping district is selling any given item/material and as a result of this prices have gone sky high. at one point a single stack of mangrove logs cost 7 diamonds when in previous seasons you could get at least 1 stack of wood for 1 diamond if not more

So what is causing this economic depression and hyperinflation?

well, circling back to the point grian made about resources costing more because of abundance of diamonds, I would think it actually costs more because of the permits.

grian thinks the diamond prices are fair because he has middle of the road permits (and is one of the hermits who designed their shopping district, permit and economic system this season so he's biased), there is enough demand to keep him afloat when he's stocked but its nothing people are clamouring for and buying him out. on the other hand, joel made a lot of shops that no one shops at because his objectively weighted permits have not been selling as well as they anticipated when making the permits (also some people like etho and pearl have additional income from their not as fabulous permits because they've made a pay to play game to go with it) and finally there are hermits like mumbo whose gold, iron and item frame shops were constantly getting bought out so he was frustrated with trying to restock despite getting lots of profit

(another interesting dynamic to think about is permits like cleo's book permit which lost value as the season went on because everyone needed books early on but now that they're all playing late game Minecraft, everyone is pretty stocked up and buying from cleo less often)

Basically, grian is satisfied with the pricing because he's middle class and couldn't afford it if they were more expensive but appreciates not being constantly out of stock, joel is unsatisfied because he is lower class and never has enough expendable currency to fund his projects because materials are too expensive and his permits aren't worth enough to sell them for more, and mumbo is unsatisfied because he is higher class and is constantly out of stock because his materials sell out too often and he wants to sell them for more to stay in stock more (classic supply and demand, he doesn't want to stock them as often making the supply lower and the demand proportionally higher making them worth more and therefore more expensive)

the reason i say the permits are to blame for the high prices is because they cause the responsibility of constantly stocking something to fall on one person (in past seasons, if one persons sandstone shop was out of stock you could go check someone else's sandstone shop). the threat of taking the permit away if they arent stocked along with the difficulty of constantly stocking some of these materials raises the cost.

a great example of this is skizzleman because his mangrove and cherry wood shop was one of the first shops to be built in the shopping district, meaning he somewhat set the prices this season. now, mangrove and cherry are both difficult trees to harvest because of their unconventional shapes and the fact that they are more recent additions (and skizz's stubborn desire to design his own farms...) so because of the time required to gather them the prices already were hitched up. add that to the fact that they are trying to constantly be in stock and therefore low prices that allow hermits to completely buy out the shops are unfavourable, and you get sky rocket-ing prices. (it is also difficult because skizz had no prior experience with hermitcraft pricing)

in conclusion... hermitcraft needs a laissez-faire economy (f. a. hayek) to function and not go into economic depression. Between the nature of the diamond currency, hermits' tendency to rebel against governments, the way they use the concept of supply and demand to price their goods, and the restrictions permits put on supplying products, hermits have proven that extensive structure and government intervention have not improved economic wellbeing the way that it does in real life

thus, hermits do not behave like regular humans, they operate on fae laws of its funny so lets do it and therefore must be governed as such (aka not governed), thank you for coming to my ted talk

[littledes1re]

How to disappear | Chapter: two

Summary: Joel is feeling guilty, he is broken. He ruined you. Yet, he has the audacity to come to your house and have dinner. To come to your door and talk to you. Your mind is a chaos.

Warnings: ANGST, fluff (but as a flashback, i’m sorry) dealing with heartbreak, tommy cameo, Joel is kinda an asshole, fighting, age gap! (23 and 61), grief, anxiety, lots of crying, depression, small reference to suicide

A/N: AAA it‘s finally hereeeee. It’s kinda short but there is lot’s of things going on right now so🫩But this took SO long I kept deleting it and then rewriting it. I was never satisfied, but now I think I like it. I didn‘t even think so many people would read it🥹

„You‘re not the happiest I‘ve seen you, once again.“ if his mother would still be alive, Tommy would run to her and spill his heart out about joel. Ask for advice, listen to her words and maybe even cry. He couldn‘t understand his pain, but could see his sorrow. He wanted to reach his hand out, take a part out of it, carry it with his own. But Joel never let him—never let him past that strong wall that he was hiding behind.

„It‘s going.“ Joel shrugged, taking a sip from his drink and putting it down. In his mind he was already planning to make this wall stronger, so this time Tommy wouldn‘t even notice when his mood was off for a few days. But, he couldn‘t blame him. The months after the accident, joel did not even once speak to his little brother. There was an uncomfortable passing between them, one that none of them could break, the guilt weighed heavy on both of them—one, not knowing how to handle his big brother after his daughter died in his arms; the other, not knowing how to open up, shutting people out completely, resigned to misery and solitude.

„S‘nothing. Swear.“

And joels stomach twists at the thought of calling you nothing.

„Okey, brother. I believe you. Uh—benjamin’s birthday is tomorrow. You comin‘? And tess too?“ Tommy asks, a little bit more hopeful because Joel was actually showing interest in their conversation. Yet, there was still this dull light in his eyes, sadness and the bags under them did nothing to ease his worries. His brother was strong—that was certain. Whatever he was saying should be true and tommy tried his best to hang on that reassuring promise that joel was doing okey, even if in the back of his mind he beat himself up, for not knowing how to handle him. How to handle his anxiety, his guilt.

„Yeah, sounds good.“

There was a bling, his phone went off. It was you, once again.

Every time Joel read your messages, your letters, each one left unanswered, each call declined, a sharp knife that already sits in his heart just twists a little deeper. There is no denying in what he had done. The cowardice. He had ruined you, crushed something fragile within you, made you love him only to vanish without a single explanation. The only thing left in his wake was consequence. The deep hatred he carried for himself, the suffocating guilt, always trailing behind him like a second shadow. He tried, over and over, to give himself and the world another chance—but he ruins it, every single time. And now, seeing the weight of it all reflected trough your efforts, makes him want to die. He tried that once, but he is a coward.

The day he came to your room to ask how you are doing. The day he got the news that your mother had passed. It all hit him. He just understood the pain you were feeling and how much of a moron your dad was. Being best friends with him for years, he saw some shit that made his stomach turn. Not even once caring for his daughter, always having a dumb excuse to not pick you up from somewhere, always having an excuse to avoid his daughter. And god—if joel didn‘t need to be friends with him because of work, he would‘ve probably beat him.

Alone, angry and miserable. He knew how you were feeling, and if your dads not going to be there to comfort you, he took that role.

But he wished he didn‘t. There was a line that was crossed, the more time you spent together, the more he lost himself in you. Suddenly, the pain wasn't that big anymore; suddenly he had someone with him who understood him and gave him strength. Joel hadn't known anything like that in a long time. This affection from someone else. If it wasn't a warm shoulder on a cold winter morning, then it was the loving look when he showed up at your door. It felt like everything else in the world disappeared and only the two of you existed. Understood, comforted, loved. Together.

His eyes fell to the pink blanket he extra bought for you, a sharp pain spread over his heart.

“No, keep em’ closed.”

The air was crisp, carrying the scent of fresh grass and distant city lights. It was one beautiful night. The temperature just the kind of gentle chill that brushed against bare skin, coaxing shivers yet never sharp enough to be uncomfortable. A perfect summer night.

He was standing behind you, his hands hovering over your eyes, warm and slightly trembling. Joel was nervous. And he wasn’t sure if you noticed it. He even accidentally stumbled on the back of your feet, a little ‘sorry’ leaving his lips. But you always noticed, every single detail that his expression makes, his body language. You knew it all. Seeing a man like him, with his rough edges, grumpy attitude being anxious was a rare sight, but a sweet one.

Your heart was thrumming inside your chest— there was a sweet awaiting of love and affection but one that was still swimming in the unknown. Anticipation floating in the air between you two. Neither of you dared to take the first step. Maybe it was fear. Fear that what you felt was love—or something dangerously close to it—but that for him, it was something else entirely. A refuge, a place to rest, not a fire to burn in. Was it love, or merely the comfort of knowing you were there? If he had never needed saving, would he have reached for you at all?

Yet, you imagined it was love. Waiting, wanting. Needing.

“Okey, open them.”

And as you did, you sucked in a breath.

The soft glow of the fairy lights twinkled, golden and pretty against the darkness, that was surrounding you two. A white sheet had been hung from the tree, flickering slightly as it caught the breeze. In front of that — a projector. Pillows and a pink blanket had been scattered across the grass, cosy and all of it carefully placed, he made it just for you. And you couldn’t believe it.

Same flannel. He was wearing the same flannel in front of you from that night. Shamelessly sitting there, eating. The hatred filled you, the anger was one you could feel in your bones yet you wanted to cry. Your fist were clenched under the table, leaving marks on your skin. There was a tight knot in your throat, just barely keeping you from sobbing out loud. Like a baby. You were ashamed, cheeks flamed— because apparently he didn’t care.

You had your answer. Joel just wanted a shoulder to cry on. And it was you who fell in love and made everything difficult.

Why tho? That single word clawed at your mind, echoing in the quiet.

All these words he whispered to you in the middle of the night, all the times he had made you blush, giggle, smile. Looked at you love. Tucking you to bed, cuddling you, making you food. People didn’t just do that for fun? Do they?

He looked at you as if nothing else existed in this world except you

It hurt. It felt like a gut punch. Like you could crawl away from the embarrassment and stick your head into sand only to never come out.

But what hurt more was the painful realisation, that he moved on. So easily. As if you were nothing more than a passing season in his life, something to be forgotten once the weather changed.

His girlfriend was beautiful, polite and way older. Older than you. While there should have been deep hatred toward them both, you couldn‘t get past that. Your mind even coming to the conclusion that they fit together. Fit together way more than you and joel did. The age gap was a normal one, she probably had a good job and income, an apartment. You had none of those things. And maybe joel didn‘t deserve that, maybe his decision was right, maybe you shouldn‘t be sad, you should be happy that he found himself someone. Gaslighting yourself wouldn‘t change this situation much further. Because as much as a difficult conclusion that is, you fell in love with him. And now you lost him to someone else.

He laughed at the table—that warm laughter you knew so well, the kind that spilled from bad dad jokes, the kind that made your stomach ache with giggles. But you kept searching for his eyes, for their softness, for the light he once gave you. He avoided your gaze, and part of you was grateful because if you met his eyes now, everything would crumble. You'd unravel, a crying mess, right in front of your dad. And you hated yourself for it—for being so sensitive, for not moving on as quickly as he had.

While you tried your best to concentrate on eating, which consisted of only moving the food underneath fork left to right, you caught his eyes, from the corner of your eye. He was looking at you, watching, trying to get your attention? And there it was. Eye contact. You didn‘t burst out in tears, like you thought you would. You didn‘t even twitch with your eye. You felt it in your chest. A drop, then warmth spreading in you, goosebumps on your whole body. Cheeks flaming hot, just like the tip of your ears. You couldn‘t take this anymore.

„Excuse me, i‘m not hungry anymore“ You abruptly left the table, not even looking at the people before sprinting to your room.

Your press your back against the door, locking it and looking around your room.

Slumping onto your bed, limbs weak as your arms wrap around your body. The walls seem to close in, slowly suffocating you, leaving you alone with your own thoughts. And as your chest tightens you think of your mother. How she was your best friend. How you could tell her everything in the world and she would not judge you once, not question anything. Just listen to you.

The slow and painful realisation of being alone, makes you suddenly sob. Breaking free before you can even stop it. You press your face against your pillow, trying to muffle them but they come anyway, loud, ragged and shaking your whole frame. Memories of her voice haunt you, the way she gently laid her hand on your shoulder, her warm laugh filling the room. The sweet worried look she would give you whenever you feel bad about something. Nerve wrecking, helpless. You couldn‘t do much. You had to accept it and move on. The embarrassment, the fear that it would happen again.

And suddenly, there was a knock. And after asking three times over who it was, you sure knew it wasn‘t your father.

His brown eyes gently looked every inch of your face, his bottom lip quivering. He just stood there, looked at your red, crying face.

„Oh, babygirl.“ it slipped out. He didn‘t want to call you that. Heck— he didn‘t even want to come to your room in the first place.

And for a split moment you wanted to fall into his arms.

Bury your face into his chest and let yourself overcome with the comfort and warmth you haven‘t felt for months. But you didn‘t. You raised your hand slowly and without a brink in your eye, you slapped him across the face. A sudden, unexpected act that not only took him by complete surprise but also you.

„How do you have the fucking audacity to come here and call me babygirl?“

And Joel was just standing there. Like a fish out of water, mouth gaped open and not moving. The right side of his cheek slowly turning red, as you looked at him. Shocked, hurt and angry.

„I—I don‘t know.“ his voice was careful, like he is testing waters before talking. Not wanting to have another hit in his face. Yet his eyes were still full of worry, the bags under his eyes deeper than ever. You wondered if he also had sleepless nights.

„Why do you even show your face here? And with her! Did you not care for me just a little bit? Was I just a shoulder to cry on for you?“

„That‘s not what this is.“

Disbelief gripped you. The anger you felt inside was something that had been building up over these months. And you wanted to take it all out on him. Everything. Your father and his ability to make you feel useless. On the guilt that gnawed at you whenever you resented your mother for leaving you alone. On your friends—who, in the end, were never really friends at all.

He was just looking at you. Jaw tight, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as if he is holding himself up by force. There was no warmth in his eyes as you knew it, they were empty. A shallow vessel of a man was looking at you, while you desperately tried to hold into the one feeling he showed you. Love.

„then what is it?“ you step forward, almost daring him to flinch, to react, to prove that the man you love is somehow still in there.

Joel doesn‘t answer, looks away and tried to find the right words to answer you. But they never come. There is an uncomfortable silence between you two. One that you never experienced with him.

“You are such a coward“ you spit, voice breaking. Tears streaking down your face, landing on your mouth as you taste the saltiness.

„Please stop with the letters and calls. I‘m with her now. I don‘t want her to get uncomfortable.“

Wow. Every word that left his mouth hit you in the face like a brick. Your breath was gone and you wished you could crumble, crumble in front of him and disappear. You wanted to be held by the hands of your mother and lay down her chest, smell her. You wanted to cry out and sob. You wanted to slap him, kick him, scream into his face. But everything around you blurred together, the pain wrapped around your ribs, just tightening more and more as you looked into the face of a man you never knew.

You didn‘t know him. You apparently never did.

The feelings that he showed you, grief, anger and pain. All gone, once again being kept deep inside, he turned into that miserable man he was right after his daughter died. And maybe you realised, that‘s who he was. That‘s who he was always and the kindness, comfort, light you experienced was all in your head. He played you, so he could have you, then left you with a hole in your heart.

You watched silently as he left your room. Then, a couple minutes later, you watched from the window as he and his girlfriend walked to their car, packed their things in and got in.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours one last time before he drove away.

You wished to disappear.

You wished to hate him.

You wished you could forget.

But knowing, cruelly, that you never will.

Fucking joel you little pos🫩😔

Chapter one! Chapter three!

Thank you so much for reading!!! as always, english isn‘t my first language—so feedback or any corrections of mistakes are appreciated!!!🫶🏻

Taglist:

@vickie5446 @a-goose-on-mars @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs @pickyeater13 @sweetiegirl16 @keseqna @shivispunk @kyloispunk @meetmeatyourworst @joelmillerswife9 @iveseenstrangerthings50 @idrkman @vanishintoyoubby @dlwrish @brittmb115 @xcallmetaniax @umadirectioner @glitterspark @replaythatrayrae @bluekat707 @ccmoonshine @datgirl-audrey @lovelystrawberrysblog @heartpatch @sukivenue @valitagun @lizaispunk @bigeyesbabe @mystickittytaco @catalysmic @marisemonteiroo @nosebeers @ariundercovers @misguidedasgardian @neobangverse @lestatismo @aj0elap0l0gist @ur-fav-pixi @pedrofan @hhallefuckinglujahh @callmeafra @b1bbles @fallout-girl219

If I missed anybody then i‘m sorry, it‘s so many people and I completely lost overview of the taglist lmao😭😭😭

[alpaca-clouds]

Why the media CEOs will always learn the wrong lessons

Yesterday a friend and I talked about how the entire (AAA) game industrie looked at BG3 being as popular as it is and going: "Oh, we need to produce 100+ hour games, I guess! Those sell!" Which... obviously is not why it is popular. The game is not popular because it has 100+ hours of gameplay, but because it has engaging characters, that are well-acted and that work as good hooks for the players. Like, let's face it: The reason why I so far have sunken 160 hours into this game is, because I wanna spend time with these characters - and because I wanna give them their happy endings.

But the same has happened too, just a bit earlier this year, right? When Barbie broke the 1 billion and every Hollywood CEO went: "Oh, so the people want movies based on toy franchises! Got it!" To which the internet at large replied: "... How is that the lesson you learned from this?"

Well, let me explain to you, why this is the lesson they learn: It is because the CEOs and the boards of directors at large are not artists or even engaged with the medium they produce. They mostly are economists. And their dry little hearts do not understand stuff more complex than numbers and spread sheets.

That sounds evil, I know, but... It is sadly the truth. When they look at a successful movie/series/game/book/comic, they look at it as a product, not a piece of art or narrative. It is just a product that has very clear metrics.

To them Barbie is not a movie with interesting stylistic choices that stand out from the majority of high budget action blockbusters. It is a toy movie with mildly feminist themes.

Or Oppenheimer is not a movie to them with a strong visual language and good acting direction. No, it is a historical blockbuster.

And this is true for basically every form of media. I mean, books are actually a fairly good example. In my life I do remember the big book fads that happened. When Harry Potter was a success, there was at least a dozen other "magical school" book series being released. When Twilight was a big success there was suddenly an endless number of "teen girl falls in love with bad boy, who is [magical creature]" YA. When the Hunger Games was a success, there were hundreds of "YA dystopia" books. Meanwhile in adult reading, we had the big "next Game of Throne" fad.

Of course, the irony is, that within each of those fads there might have been one or two somewhat successful series - but never even one that came even close to whatever started the fad.

Or with movies, we have seen it, too. When Avengers broke the 1 billion (which up to this point only few movies did) the studios went: "Ooooooh, so we need shared universe film series" - and then all went to try and fail to create their own cinematic universe.

Because the people, who call the shots, are just immensely desinterested in the thing they are selling. They do not really care about the content. All they care about is having a supposedly easy avenue of selling it. Just as they do not care about the consumer. All they care about is that the consumer buys it. Why he buys it... Well, they do not care. They could not care less, in fact.

So, yeah, get ready for a 20 overproduced games with a bloated 100+ hours of empty gameplay, but without the engaging characters. And for like at least 15 more moves based on some toy franchise, that nobody actually cares about.

And then get ready for all the CEOs to do the surprised Pikachu face, when all of that ends up not financially successful.

Really, I read some interviews yesterday from some AAA-studio CEOs and their blatant shock and missing understanding on why BG3 works for so many people.

Because, yeah... capitalism does not appreciate art. Capitalism does not understand art. It only understands spread sheets.

[purinfelix]

YOU ASK FOR REQUESTS AND I SHALL GIVE. since most riki aus r often w him being the ‘nonchalant’ guy, what if its switched.. riki being riki who is the most troublemaking, silly, goofy, wont-get-off-your-tail guy while the reader is always keeping to herself, quiet. but when they get close shes a whole diff person

just for me - n. riki ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

summary: you and ni-ki's friendship makes no sense, but maybe that's what makes it so special ─────────── extroverted ni-ki x introverted reader || fluff, wholesome, college au || w/c: 1.5k

a/n: I LOVE THIS IDEA AAA i think so many people forget about how silly and cute niki can be when he's around someone he's comfortable with so i loved writing thissss hope u enjoy pookie!! <333

To most people, it didn’t make sense for you and Niki to be friends. 

Almost everyone on campus knew who Niki was, and those who didn’t had at least heard stories. It was hard not to, with the way he was constantly getting told off for chatting loudly during class - on the rare occasion that he actually showed up - or bounding down halls like he was on a mission, his backpack barely hanging on one shoulder, the other arm slung around whichever friend he’d dragged into his chaos for the day.

Most often, he could be found at the campus basketball courts, dunking on his opponents and then making sure everyone heard about it after. He was the kind of person who naturally demanded people’s attention wherever he went - loud, unfiltered, and almost annoyingly attractive.  

You, on the other hand, had yet to be late to a single lecture and could almost always be found in your favourite front-row seat. People typically only heard your voice when you’d answer questions, and even then, you only said what was needed to get your point across. Sure, it might’ve had something to do with shyness or introversion, but more than anything, you just preferred the peace that came with quiet - the control you felt when enjoying your own company. 

It was just your luck that Niki seemed to like your company almost as much as you did.

“Doesn’t he annoy you?” One of your friends whispered in a hushed tone as you left class together, being greeted by a familiarly lanky figure waiting out in the hallway. 

You don’t blame her confusion because, a couple of weeks ago, you would’ve reacted exactly the same way. He did annoy you, at first at least - you had always reserved a special kind of irritation for people like him. People who showed up late to things, were disorganised and loud for no reason, who always seemed to be disrupting things for others without so much as a modicum of guilt. 

But it was difficult to be so snarky when you were slowly trudging home from an almost 10-hour-long study session at the university library. And it was there, when you were dragging your feet along the dimly lit pavement, that you heard Niki’s voice calling out to you. Lifting your head just enough, you saw him bounding quickly towards you, chasing after a stray basketball.

It hits your feet, but you don’t move, seemingly frozen in place. He jogs up to you, scooping it up in his arm casually before turning to you.

“Sorry about that,” he says in between pants, and it hits you that this is the first time he’s actually spoken directly to you. 

“All good,” you mumble curtly, without much thought. 

You’re waiting for him to turn back around, to just leave this tiny insignificant interaction between two people who should be strangers at just that. But he doesn’t - instead, he stands there silently, as if studying you, running a hand through his hair. 

“Can I help you?” you ask, and it comes out a little meaner than you’d intended. You blame this on your exhaustion, hours of studying muddling the lines between what’s polite and not - though you can’t deny the sudden shyness you feel under his attention. 

“No, sorry,” he pauses, caught off guard by your tone, “you just look sorta tired, are you alright?” 

It’s your turn to be surprised, the sudden concern in his words feeling so alien that you’re unsure of how to respond. “Yeah,” you breathe out, “I mean, I’ve been at the library almost the entire day, so I am kind of tired.” 

The laugh you let out is almost self-depracating, an attempt to make light of your pathetic admission, and you wait for his response - for him to mock you for being such a nerd, or a try-hard. But it never comes.

“Wow,” he says instead, somewhat impressed, “you work really hard in class, don’t you.” 

You raise your head to catch his eye, trying to study his expression for any signs of mockery. “I mean, I guess.” 

Behind him, you spot his group of friends huddled around watching the two of you talk from a distance, presumably waiting for their ball to return to their game. 

“Your friends are waiting.” You shove your hands in your pockets, unsure of what else to do with them. 

“Oh, right,” he says calmly, and with a swift motion, he tosses the ball over to them, but doesn’t go to join them. There’s a beat of silence, the awkwardness of the whole situation heavy. 

Then, after what feels like forever - “You don’t have that little keychain today.” 

Your brows furrow as you look up at him in confusion. “What?” 

He blinks, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud. “Uh- just, you know that little stuffed keychain you have? I’ve seen it before, on your bag, I think - it’s, it’s not there today.” 

You stare at him for a moment, genuinely at a loss for words. It’s such a small, stupid detail, something that no one else has ever pointed you - not your classmates, not even your friends. But somehow, he of all people noticed. “Oh, the little bear?” 

“Yeah!” he smiles bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, “Sorry, that sounded creepy. You just always had it when you walked past the courts - I thought it was cute.” 

You don’t really know what to say, but before you realise it, your cheeks are warming up and a smile is tugging at your lips as if threatening to break through. 

“Thanks,” you say softly, but earnestly, “I think it fell off somewhere.” 

He offers a small frown. “That sucks, I thought it suited you.” 

There’s a weird flutter in your chest that you try not to think too much about. He glances over his shoulder at his friends, and you take that as your cue for the conversation ending. 

“Well, I’ll uh- see you aro-” 

“Are you headed home now?” 

You nod without thinking.

“Mind if I walk with you?” 

You nod again. 

And you hadn’t really thought much of it then, but that walk proved to be the first of many. What started as a rare one-off encounter turned into something regular. Turned into meeting before class for drinks, into late night study sessions, which were basically you tutoring him - and once you both came to the conclusion that his grades were a lost cause, even later night snack runs. 

Something strange happened when you were around him.  You let yourself say things without filtering them in your head first, you laughed louder, and more often. Being around him felt a little less restrained, a little less quiet. 

And now here he was, waiting for you outside your class to take you to the newly opened cafe you hadn’t shut up about. 

“He’s not as bad as everyone makes him out to seem,” you say, turning to your friend with a small shrug. 

“I mean, no offence, but he’s Niki,” she sighs, like that explains everything “the only times I hear about him is people complaining about him tanking their group assignment, or whatever went down at his last party. I mean, you saw those photos, who even thinks ot hire a bouncy castle for a 19th birthday party?” 

You let out a soft chuckle that contrasts your friend’s incredulous tone, but she doesn’t stop.

“He’s never on time for class, I mean, I don’t think he even knows our professor’s name.” 

“Well, he’s never late to meet me,” you say, watching as she shoots you one last look - half confused, half resigned- before leaving. 

“Hey,” Niki says through a smile, waving you down, “ready to go?” 

“Of course,” you say, beaming up at him as he falls into step beside you like he’s done a thousand times before - like he belongs there. 

“Oh wait,” he says, stopping just before you reach the building’s door, “got you something.” 

He slings his backpack around, rummaging around in the mess inside it for a bit as you stand there, curious. Finally, he pulls something out with a dramatic flair, dropping it into your hands. 

You look at it - a tiny stuffed bear keychain, a little squished, but adorable nonetheless. Your breath hitches. 

“I know it’s not the same one you lost,” he says sheepishly, “but I saw it and it reminded me of you. Plus-” 

He holds up his own keys which you now notice has the exact same bear, just in a different colour. You stare at it, then back at him. 

“Twins,” he smiles. 

You let out a breathy laugh, fingers curling around the bear as you attach it onto your bag quickly. “You’re unbelievable,” you laugh. 

“Unbelievably thoughtful,” he corrects, shrugging smugly as you continue to walk beside him.

To others, it shouldn’t have made much sense - and really, it didn’t.

But whenever he flashed you that warm smile, or laughed honestly at a joke you made, one that really wasn’t that funny, it all seemed to make sense, at least to you - and that’s all that mattered. 

taglist for niki fics! <333 - @miniw0nz @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @charsworld96 @jenjnk @nocturnebite @nodoubtily @teireiii @starniras

[babyleostuff]

when they accidentally overhear you talking lovingly about them | ot13

𐙚🧸ྀི the ones that would just stand there and listen to you with a soft smile

jeonghan, joshua, wonwoo, woozi, minghao, vernon 

he just stands in his lil hiding place and listens to you. a part of him is just too shy to admit that he overheard you, and that he was there for the whole time you were talking about him. and even though he is well aware of how much you love him, to hear it, especially when you don't realize that he's right there - it's something completely different. the way you're truly pouring your heart out while talking about him... yeah, nothing beats that.

𐙚🧸ྀི the ones that wouldn’t know whether to jump, squeal, cry or hug you

jun, hoshi, dk

he is filled with so many emotions that he doesn't know what to do with himself. the love you surround him with every day. the happiness you provide him. gratitude that you came into his life. and pride that he's able to call you his partner. this is exactly what he feels when he overhears you, and because of all this, he just stands there and doesn't know what to do. is he supposed to cry? run to you and hug you? lay down and die?

𐙚🧸ྀི the ones that would silently waddle over to you, with a cute pout, and wrap their whole body around you 

seungcheol, mingyu, seungkwan, chan

he can't help but hug you. and it's not your regular hug - it's a big big bear hug that leaves you gasping for air. it is physically impossible for him not to convey his love right back to you, like there is no way he'd just go on with his day and pretend he didn't just hear all of that. come on, you just melted his soul with your words. and as the biggest cuddle bug, you can be sure he wouldn't let you go for a long long time. he is just filled with so much love.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot 

[thewritetofreespeech]

Doritos are not breakfast

Another beautifully day at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital. And it looked like they were already going to be overrun with how deep the waiting room was.

Robby clocked in for his shift, put his stuff in his locker, then went to the breakroom to get a cup of coffee. He was going to need it this morning, it seemed, and at his age he refused to drink energy drinks.

As he came into the breakroom a familiar, but out of place, face was still there. Sitting in what looked to be an uncomfortable manner at a small table with her phone in her hand and an array of snack chips littered around.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were on shift today.”

“I’m not.” [Y/N] told him. “I’m off from last night. My frickin’ car won’t start.”

Robby let out a long ‘oof’, “that sucks. Is it just the battery or….”

“I wouldn’t know what a catalytic converter was even if you hit me with one.” A loud crunch echoed through the breakroom as [Y/N] ate a handful of Doritos and Robby chuckled. It was sad to think about, but there had been more than one occasion when a member of the ER staff had gone out and their tires were slashed, or the windows punched out. No good deed and all that.

“So, you’re just waiting here to get a ride or something?”

“Nah, AAA is supposed to come check it out. Give me a jump hopefully.” She made little prayer hands to emphasis the ‘hopefully’ and took another big crunch of her chips.

Robby nodded, but then paused and gave them a critical look. “That’s not your breakfast then, is it?”

“Why? Do you want some?”

[Y/N] held out the bag out to offer Robby some of her horde, but he crinkled his nose. “Doritos aren’t breakfast.”

“Uh…they are if you eat enough of them.” [Y/N] retorted. “And neither is black coffee.” She then clipped back in a haughty tone to match his superior one. “At least mine has some measure of protein and thinking calories.”

“And a bunch of Red 40.” [Y/N] tsked her teeth at him and proceeded to eat another handful of chips. Seemingly out of spite at this point.

Robby sighed. Then he reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “Here,” he handed $20 bucks to [Y/N] from across the table. “Go down to the cafeteria and get a fruit cup at least. Or go to the diner and get some eggs.”

[Y/N] seemed surprised by the offer, but took the $20 regardless. “$20? In this economy.” Robby chuckled. “….thanks…”

“You’re welcome.”

Just then [Y/N]’s phone buzzed to let her know that AAA had arrived. “I gotta go. Try not to make anyone cry today.”

“No promises.” Robby told her. “Hey, make sure you use that $20 to get something nutritious!” He then called after [Y/N] as they left the breakroom.

“No promises!” She called back. Then headed out the door with Doritos in hand.

Robby chuckled as he watched her go. “Worst $20 I ever spent.

[underthetree845]

chuuya taking his hat off to hide when he kisses his partner 🤭

Hello saturn lovely! Sorry this took me so long to finish TwT I love the prompt, but as you know writer's block hit me kinda hard the second semester of school so over the summer I've been trying to get back into the swing of posting once in a while!

Hope you enjoy <3 thank you for the request! _

Kiss Me Hard Before You Go

Nakahara Chuuya/Reader (oneshot request)

cws: fem! reader, established relationship, bungou stray dogs s5 spoilers, meursault arc spoilers, fluff, hurt/comfort kinda? there was a little hurt, reuniting, airport reunion, ada dazai, reader cries about 2.5k words summary: Chuuya disappeared on a business trip for three whole days with no explanation- and no one would tell you why. Now he's returned to japan and back in your arms. a/n: This is my last fic for the summer before school starts aaa qwq I'm glad I was able to finish it before the semester starts though! *sigh* am I really incapable of writing something like this without accidentally creating so much plot? Anyways, hope you enjoy! <3 divider credit: (x) (x) ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ Chuuya had never considered himself to be a very possessive man; or a possessive boyfriend, for that matter. Protective, sure, but how could anyone expect him not to be? He understood, probably better than most, the risks that came with even so much as associating with a person in his position. It made Chuuya’s stomach churn unpleasantly to even imagine putting you in any sort of danger, so he used his position (along with the power and assets that came with it) to take certain preventative measures. The penthouse you shared was equipped with state of the art security, a technological system truly fit for an executive of the Port Mafia. Additionally, in case you ever needed to travel long distances without him, Chuuya often kept a trusted chauffeur on call. This individual also happened to be a professionally trained underground bodyguard of his personal selection. Even so, Chuuya knew you had a good head on your shoulders. He trusted that you would try to keep yourself out of trouble, or call for him at the first sign of it. It didn’t matter if he was on the road, halfway through a private meeting, or in the middle of pummeling down an enemy organization. Chuuya had always been a man with his priorities set straight. Not even Mori’s notifications were set to come through on silent mode. Coming home to you at the end of the day, allowing you to soothe away the crease between his brows, your voice uttering sweet nothings against the shell of his ear. You had become his lifeline, irreversibly carved your name into every cell of his body. He’d do anything to erase your pain, and it was making his heart break more than anything to know that he was the cause of the salty tears now streaming over your lash line. Chuuya did his best to hold back an ‘oof’ when you threw your frame into his own, burying your sobs in the crook of his neck. He was immediately overwhelmed with the scent of your perfume, the familiar feeling of your body against his own, the softness of the sweater you wore, and the glimmer that never seemed to escape your eyes. The red colored contacts from earlier had given Chuuya one hell of a headache, which only added to the pressure from taking off and being stuck in one of the mafia’s smallest private jets with the most insufferable jackass he’d ever met and some hair dye obsessed casino manager passed out on one of the couches. Chuuya’s gloved fingers almost trembled as they gripped the fabric of your shirt. He lifted a hand to cradle the back of your head while the other remained planted firmly on your lower back.

Sakaguchi Ango, if Chuuya remembered correctly, stood a few yards away. He simply observed the situation from afar, as if he dared not insert himself into the scene. A government agent whom Dazai used to maintain his connection with the outside world. Ango stood with one hand folded neatly over the other behind his back, the faint ghost of a smile residing behind his glasses as he watched Dazai reunite with his fellow agency members. The brunette walked on a crutch, but the uncharacteristically tired look in his eyes brightened ever so slightly when he was swarmed by his coworkers. Chuuya continued to hold you close, patiently waiting for your sobs to die down enough for you to be able to speak coherently. He loosened his grip slightly, removing one of his leather gloves behind your back and bringing that same hand up to cup your face. A whisper of your name left his lips, and your teary eyes finally refocused to meet the warmth of his own. “Chuuya… how could you just leave?” your voice cracked; he could see the hurt in your eyes. Guilt crept into his chest, eyebrows knitting together as you subconsciously leaned into his palm. This was exactly the sort of thing Chuuya promised himself he’d never do. You were the absolute number one priority in his life. There was no doubt in his mind; he didn’t want there to be any doubt in yours either. “I know, Doll, ‘m sorry, it was never my intention…” he muttered, allowing you to rest your hands on his chest. “I know that’s a shit excuse, but I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” A beat of silence passed, the indistinct chatter of the agency fell on deaf ears as you zoned in on the man in front of you. His breath, the way his eyes searched your expression, how you could once again feel the warmth of his skin against your own. “You’re not hurt, are you?” your voice was pricked with concern, hands gentle as you cupped his jaw and turned his head from side to side. Chuuya let out a breath, fondness flickering in his irises at your concern. “Barely a scratch,” he murmured, and you seemed to accept his answer. “Chuuya,” you started, and his gaze locked onto yours. He voiced your name in response. “I need you to promise me something, please?” “Anything.” 

You bit your lip. Your mind told you it was a selfish request. You understood, probably better than most, how unpredictable your boyfriend’s line of work could be. But you had accepted it as an adequate price to pay for his love when the two of you started seeing each other, even more so when you moved in together. He was yours, you believed it with every fiber of your being. Chuuya had told enough stories of his old work partner for you to gather that the two had never exactly been the chummiest of pals. So the fact that they cooperated for this mission must’ve meant that it couldn’t have been a minor dilemma. You understood why Chuuya made the decision he did, and that it was probably just as difficult on him. Albeit, that didn’t make your feelings any less real. Your heart reminded you of the unconditional love and comfort that Chuuya always offered you. You knew he’d never intentionally hurt your feelings, especially not without talking it out and making up for it in some way afterward. “Doll…?” he barely breathed, giving you all the space you needed to voice what was on your mind. You took a deep breath. “Don’t… please don’t scare me like that again,” your voice wavered as you spoke, “Everything on the news is scary. And every time I watch it all I can think about is the fact that you’re out there.” You took a moment to glance at the group of Armed Detective Agency members on the airport runway to your left. One of the so-called terrorists you heard about on the news stood amongst the group about ten feet away from where you watched. The world was confusing, and scary, but there was a certain security in your heart that told you as long as you had Chuuya by your side, everything would be okay. “First you’re leaving before sunrise and staying out late on special missions, and I get it, I really do…” you felt a lump beginning to form in your throat, threatening to make you choke over your words, “but then you just leave on a business trip to Europe without so much as a ‘goodbye, I’ll be home soon’? And I have to find out from a call from your boss? I didn’t- I still don’t understand what’s happening. Do you know how scared I was? That I might not ever see you again?” Chuuya’s thumb swiped away the teardrop that ran down your cheek, his eyes trailing over your expression. “You’re right, it’s not fair… I don’t think I could ever apologize enough,” he began, his hold on you tightening slightly, “All that I can ask is for you to understand. I can explain everything to you when we get home. And I promise, I’ll do my best to not leave you in the dark so suddenly. It was an urgent mission, but it must have been scary. You’ll never have to feel like that again, not if I can help it.” Chuuya’s face softened, the corners of your lips curving up slightly at his sincerity as he cupped your cheek. “Shit… you deserve so much better.” You stood there for a moment, just breathing. Soaking in each other’s presence as your heartbeat gradually fell back to its usual pace.

“My my, Slug, is this the lovely lady you were so eager to get back to?” a voice chimed from your left, and you turned your head to face the man at the same time Chuuya snapped his head in that direction. Your boyfriend clicked his teeth, pressing your body closer to his own. “What’s it to you, huh, Dazai?” Chuuya was clearly trying to suppress his irritation. He was doing especially well, considering the fact that he had been holed up next to Dazai on an airplane for the past fourteen hours. “I’m just trying to acquaint myself,” the man went on, a grin playing on his lips despite Chuuya’s glare, “As a responsible owner, I should at least make sure my dog is in good hands.” You tilted your head slightly, and Chuuya sucked in a breath. “You’re treading on some pretty thin ice, Mackerel,” he growled through gritted teeth, “Watch what you say around my girl.” The taller man only took a step forward, his eyes glittering in amusement, a sharp contrast to the hollowed out, almost dead look he carried earlier. “Oh? Holding back your more vulgar language around the lady?” Dazai hummed with mild intrigue, “Perhaps my dog is being well taken care of.” You simply stood and watched with intrigue, the interaction clearly more complex than distinguishable at first glance. Despite their constant verbal jabs and ostentatious insults toward each other, there was a sense of familiarity between the two that was almost palpable to you. They bounced off each other, knowing exactly which buttons to press and which ones to avoid. It was probably a welcome change of tone in contrast to what they had just been through. Your gaze flickered between the two once more, and you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in Chuuya’s shoulders had been released. “Dazai-san?” your voice was level, and both of the men fell silent to give you their attention. You looked at your beloved, then to his ex-partner, then Chuuya, then Dazai again. Mirth swam in your eyes. “I want to thank you for making sure Chuuya was able to return home safely today. Truly, I cannot thank you enough.” You gave a slight bow of your head, and Chuuya looked like he wanted to protest. For once, Dazai didn’t immediately produce a response; he fell silent at your sentiment. This time, a gentler smile curved onto his lips. “Please spare me, Miss,” Dazai began, “Truth be told, I don’t believe I could have made it out without Chuuya’s help either.” The redhead raised his eyebrows. "I'm passing him into your capable hands now. I trust you’ll take good care of him?” Dazai seemed satisfied with the chuckle that slipped from your throat. “You have nothing to worry about,” you replied, “And I trust that your detective agency will treat you well?” “They always have.” Chuuya let out a breath, sharing a look with his partner before turning to face a black passenger vehicle that had pulled up a short distance away. Tinted windows that prevented anyone outside from peeking in; glass, body, and tires that were all bulletproof. It was one of the mafia’s. 

“C’mon Dollface, we should get going. Don’t wanna be here when the press shows up, and the boss is probably dying for me to give him a call,” Chuuya nodded his head in the direction of the car; you brought your hand up to give a small wave to Dazai and the handful of agency members further away who glanced in your direction. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in, allowing your head to rest on Chuuya’s shoulder as you made your way to the car. You felt like you could finally breathe properly again. The door unlocked with a quiet click. Chuuya swung open the door of the vehicle with his non gloved hand and stepped aside to allow you to enter first. “...Chuu?” you started quietly, taking a step closer to where he stood. “Hm?” he raised an eyebrow. You placed your hands loosely on the back of his neck, fingers intertwined; Chuuya responded by resting his hands on your hips, listening intently.  You could have held more of a grudge. He disappeared overnight without a word, and no one would tell you why. You’d been on edge for three days straight. Hardly even sleeping through the night as you kept up with the news almost obsessively, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. To be able to hold Chuuya close again so easily felt almost surreal. A soft smile creeped into your expression, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you tilted your head to the side. Chuuya’s breath stilled. “I’m just…” you paused for a moment, your voice pouring with sincerity, “I’m really glad you’re back, and that you’re safe.” Chuuya paused for another moment, studying you carefully as an equally tender look came to his face. He glanced to the side for a moment, and let out a disgruntled huff upon discovering that Dazai’s head was still tilted in your direction; he kept a curious eye on the situation from several meters away. Your boyfriend pursed his lips for a moment before snaking one of his hands further around your waist. He plucked his pork pie hat off the crown of his head, and before you had the chance to realize what was going on, you were already being gracefully tilted backwards, forcing your hands to grip onto the lapel of Chuuya’s jacket for support. Everything seemed to still the moment he slotted his lips into yours, holding his hat up to act as a shield from certain prying eyes. You didn’t hesitate to pull him in closer, your lashes fluttering shut as you savored what you felt like you had been missing for an eternity. Chuuya’s eyes were shut in concentration, his heart thrumming with delight at the familiar sensation of your lips molded against his own. Chuuya didn’t pull away until you were both light-headed from the lack of air. Cheeks flooded with warmth, looking at each other as if you were the only two people in the entire world. “I missed you so fucking much, you know that?” Chuuya’s voice was low as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. The two of you stood straight, lingering in each other’s embrace for a moment longer. Chuuya lightly tossed his hat inside the car and once more gestured with his arm out for you to enter first. The satisfied smile on his lips morphed into one of slight perplexion when you didn’t show a reaction, raising your fingertips to brush over your lips. “Chuuya?” you questioned, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He replied with your name, all the more puzzled when you let out an incredulous chuckle. “Since when are your teeth so sharp?” 

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ a/n: Thank you so much for reading! Have a day/night/morning/evening as lovely as yourself. tagging: @judasgot-it (I noticed that I wrote down that I agreed to tag you for chuuya fics but I can't seem to remember why?? TwT please tell me if this is incorrect! Thank you <3)

[mintmatcha]

I so understand this would be so far off, but I’m imagining reader’s son being 13 and a couple months old, he’s cordial with Shinsou, for his mum, but he’s trying to come to terms with why his mum didn’t stay with his dad. Until monoma doesn’t show up for something and maybe one of his friends is like ‘hey, I’m really sorry your dad is always doing that. It must really suck’

‘My dad always shows up usually, just later. He’s busy.’ And the look of pity from his friend and it just CLICKS

Has to call his mum to pick him up and shinsou picks him up because maybe it’s late at night, and shinsou has always respected that he shouldn’t talk shit about monoma in front of your son, but when your son starts asking about things, about the lies and twisted truths monoma has told, shinsou won’t lie to him. Just gives him yes and no answers.

Monoma doesn’t understand why all of a sudden his son isn’t responding to his messages or answering his phone calls, and there’s no way he’s calling you to reveal to you that he’s no longer the golden father figure in your son’s eyes

I LOVE THIS IDEA AAA

I think, leading up to that, the more your son is angry at monoma, the more he's disrespectful of you. it's displaced, but he just can't bring himself to think that his dad is the problem.

the only time shinso has ever REALLY yelled at him was after school one day. monoma was supposed to come for his weekend, but it's shinso standing at the curb waiting for him.

"Whoa, that's your dad?" a friend asks. oh, he had been bragging all day that his pro hero dad was coming to take him on vacation and now he's face to face with the realization that he's not going anywhere.

"He is not my dad." There's so much angst and anger building up in his gut. you must have done something to piss his real dad off- it's always your fault when he doesn't arrive- "he's just some guy my mom whores around with."

Shinso's jaw flexes so tightly that he can see it from all the way from across the street. He uses his whole name, biting out every syllable with a barely restrained anger. your son trudges across the street with his pack dragging on the ground.

"Say that again." It's been years since he's thought Shinso was scary, but the cold grind of his voice makes him freeze. "Say it right here, to my face."

They both know he can't. He doesn't have the guts. Shinso bends over just a bit, bringing himself face to face.

"You do not have to respect me. You don't even have to like me." Shinso's voice breaks with the sheer volume he's using. your son looks back at his friends, who look equally horrified. "But you will not talk about your mother that way."

The man jabs a finger towards the school bag.

"And pick up your fucking bag." He's never cursed at your son before. "Your mom worked extra shifts to pay for that."

He had begged for this bag, the full leather one. it was expensive. too expensive to ask you for. It came as a holiday present with no name, so he had always assumed his dad was the one who bought it. Monoma is the one with money-- you're just a waitress. The scuffed bottom suddenly feels embarrassing.

Shinso hasn't stopped his ranting. "All she has ever done is loved you. Your whole life! All she's ever done! And I will not let you treat her the way your father treats her, got it?"

Your son doesn't reply.

"I said- did you fucking get that?"

His real dad never yells. No, he just laughs when he says things like that. Your son sniffs and slugs his bag over his shoulder. "Yeah. Whatever."

"And if you ever say that to your mother's face-" he can't finish the sentence. "Get walking."

[roosterr]

hi! i was wondering if i could request your thoughts/drabble on how the 141 would react if a mission went awful and you were left in the hospital with amnesia! like the reader wakes up and has no memory of her team🥲

if you aren’t taking requests atm or this doesn’t fit with your writing, i completely understand and you can ignore this! just wanted to say i binged your masterlist and absolutely love all your writings! keep up the amazing content <3

the 141 when you have amnesia

note: AAA TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!! and ty for reading my stuff, it means a lot!! i had so much fun writing this it's unbelievable, this concept is just so JUICY,,, i really hope you like it!! <3

wc: 2.8k

warnings: established relationship, angst sadness and depression wow i did not mean for this to get so sad

ao3

[part two]

price

✹ he would undoubtedly blame himself for what happened to you. as your captain, it was his job to keep you safe and make sure you came home in one piece, and he'd failed you there.

✹ weeks and weeks go by as he waits endlessly for you to wake up, and with every day that ends with you still unconscious, he feels his resolve slipping just a little bit more.

✹ he holds himself together as well as he can, keeping his head high and projecting confidence that you'd be okay, if only to keep the team's spirit up. they still needed their captain, and he'd be damned if he failed them too.

✹ behind closed doors, however, he's a mess.

✹ john drinks, a lot, so much that it’s irresponsible, but the image of you, beaten and bloody and barely breathing haunts him every time he closes his eyes. he locks himself in his office, away from the others and ignores their concerned calls through the door.

✹ he visits you, only when it's late and there's no one else around to hear him whisper apologies to you with a lump in his throat. he confesses to you like a sinner, all the things he wishes he'd done differently, how he'd put himself in your place in a heartbeat if it meant you'd be okay.

✹ other than those nights, he does his best to stay away from the infirmary. it’s selfish, but he can’t bear to see you in such a fragile state.

✹ he’s in his office when you wake up.

✹ the nurse finds him on his second drink of the night, and no sooner than the news leaves her mouth he's pushing past her and rushing to the infirmary. he bursts through the door, startling you and the other nurse with you.

✹ "hey, sweetheart." he’s by your side in an instant, taking one of your hands in both of his as he gazes lovingly into your eyes. it feels like it's been an age since you've looked at him, the sight of your eyes alone almost has the dam behind his own breaking.

✹ you’re staring back at him with a somewhat lost expression, but john’s so relieved that you’re here, that you're back, it slips his notice.

✹ he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, like he's done hundreds of times before, but you stop him by placing your other hand on his chest. he pulls back with a concerned frown, finally noticing the unsure look you're wearing.

✹ the nurse briefly explains that some memory loss is common for the amount of head trauma you sustained. he should've expected something like this, in fact it's a miracle you made it out with just memory loss.

✹ "i'm sorry, can you tell me who you are?" you ask meekly, looking back at him with an apologetic look in your eye. you look guilty, like it's your fault this happened and not because of his own shortcomings.

✹ john's heart sinks at your words, but he's careful not to show it. amnesia can be temporary, he knows that, he just has to jog your memory.

✹ "i'm john," he smiles as warmly as he can through the panic in his chest, lifting his left hand to show you the wedding band on his finger, "your husband."

✹ your jaw falls open, your eyes wide as you look between the ring, his face, and the nurse behind him, who simply nods in confirmation of the captain's words.

✹ "you're…" you mutter, disbelief taking over your voice, "my husband?"

✹ you take his left hand in yours, bringing it closer to your face and examining the wedding band, a tiny smile pulling at one corner of your lips.

✹ "yes, love," his chest rumbles with a chuckle, grasping your left hand and showing you the matching band on your own finger, "we're married."

✹ "seriously?" you ask, comparing the rings on your fingers and looking back up to him with an almost comically surprised face. john nods again, his moustache tilted with an amused smile.

✹ "been together for nearly seven years."

✹ "how the hell did i convince you to marry me?" you mutter. at that, he lets out a real laugh, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

✹ "think i should be the one askin' that question."

gaz

✹ kyle takes it harder than anyone.

✹ he visited you once, at the first opportunity when you were stable enough to not require constant observation, but the sight ruins him. you looked so weak, nothing like how you should; your cheeks were sunken and your skin has a sickly sheen to it, and there was nothing he could do to help you.

✹ he couldn't stand it.

✹ he becomes so easily irritated, a hair trigger just waiting to snap. the others want to help him, but he won't let them get close enough to try. any mention of your name has him shutting down, leaving faster than they can finish their sentence.

✹ he barely sleeps, spending most nights curled up in your bed with his tears soaking your pillow. he surrounds himself with your clothes, things that smell like you, but your scent eventually fades and he just feels so alone without you.

✹ price finds him like that one night, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against your bed after throwing up from crying so hard. he hauls kyle up by the collar of his shirt, and forces him to meet his stern eyes through the tears.

✹ "pull yourself together, garrick! they need you to be strong for them, how d'you think they're gonna feel when they wake up and see you like this?"

✹ after that it's like the spell is broken, and he realises just how pathetic he's been acting. in the weeks you've been out, he's only visited you – his partner – once. you'd never forgive him if you knew.

✹ from that night onwards, he visits you at least once a day, filling multiple vases around your bed with beautiful flowers and making sure they never wilt.

✹ he got 'get well soon' cards for you too, having each of your teammates, and even kate, sign one to decorate your room.

✹ you wake up surrounded by life and colour, physical evidence of how much he loves you that puts a smile on your exhausted face, even if you don't know who left them.

✹ he's off base when you wake up, picking up a fresh bouquet for your room. his phone rings as he's leaving the florists, and as soon as he hears the nurse's voice he's sprinting back to his car, throwing the flowers onto the passenger seat and racing back to base.

✹ he bursts through the infirmary doors to see you standing with the help of the nurse, your legs wobbly but your face determined. he almost breaks down in the doorway.

✹ when you look up and meet his eyes, he feels his heart stutter in his chest. he rushes towards you, the new bouquet slipping from his fingers, and almost knocks you off your feet with the how hard he embraces you.

✹ you let out a small 'oomph' as he squeezes you, hesitantly wrapping your own arms around his torso. he sniffles into your shoulder, a few tears wetting your shirt despite his attempts to hold them back.

✹ "hey, uhm…" your voice reaches his ears, hoarse with disuse, "are you okay? what's your name?"

✹ "what?" kyle lifts his head, pulling back to mirror your confused gaze. "babe, what're you on about?"

✹ the nurse pulls him aside, leaving you sitting on the edge of your bed as she explains your amnesia to him.

✹ you really didn't remember him. his heart withers in his chest, the pain of losing you all over again spreading to the ends of every limb.

✹ "no, no no no–" he mumbles, stumbling back over to where you sit and cupping your worried face so gently, like you'd break if he was too rough. "please, love, you have to remember"

✹ you cover his hands with your own, a few tears falling from your eyes and rolling hot against kyle's palms. "i'm sorry, i want to remember, but…"

✹ "please, i love you…"

soap

✹ johnny spends every free moment at your bedside.

✹ he talks to you, tells you stories about everything that's happened since you've been asleep; the time ghost burnt dinner and set the fire alarms off, a robin that landed on the windowsill of your shared room, anything that comes to mind.

✹ sometimes he plays your favourite songs, sitting on the end of your bed softly humming along, praying that you'll hear it and come back to him.

✹ most often though, he draws you. he fills page after page of his sketchbook with sketches of you; the peaceful look on your face as you lay next to him, memories from before the accident, the two of you together – though he always puts infinitely more detail into you than himself.

✹ similarly to the captain, johnny stays positive about your condition, refusing to even entertain the idea of you not waking up. he's optimistic, and so good at hiding the anguish of being without you that even ghost is fooled by his facade.

✹ he won't let the others worry about him. you're the one in the hospital, you're the one that deserves their sympathies, he has to stay positive for everyone so they don't worry, so you have something familiar to come back to when you wake up–

✹ in reality, he's living in denial. he's on the verge of a steep mental nosedive, and if he looks past his delusions for even a second, he's afraid he'll spiral into a pit he won't be able to claw his way back out of.

✹ so he continues to live like that. he has one-sided conversations with you, going on for hours as if you're talking back to him. he brings you your favourite meal when the mess hall makes it, putting it on your bedside table so you can reach it and clearing it up the next day when he comes back.

✹ when you eventually, finally wake up, he's already there with you.

✹ it was late, and against the nurse's wishes he'd climbed into your hospital bed with you, an arm around your shoulder holding you close his chest while his other hand doodles away in his sketchbook.

✹ you let out a small sound and shift against him, and his heart skips a beat under your ear at the realiseation that you're back.

✹ any lingering tiredness immediately disappears from his mind, as he throws his sketchbook carelessly onto the side table and wastes no time in gathering you up into his arms and bringing you into a crushing hug.

✹ a groggy, surprised noise leaves you, the sound of your voice lighting up johnny's face with a smile so wide it aches. he loosens his hold just enough to hold the side of your head with one hand, gazing into your eyes like you were the only person in the world.

✹ "there y'are, bonnie, i missed you so much,"

✹ he presses his lips to the top of your head, his eyes glassing and his heart full with how relieved he is that you're awake.

✹ "...what's going on?" you mutter, your eyes darting all over his face and to the room around you with a confused furrow in your brow.

✹ "lemme call the nurse," he replies with an easy, comforting smile, reaching somewhere behind him for the call button.

✹ while you wait for the nurse, he helps you sit up, adjusting the pillows behind your back so you can sit comfortably, all the while rambling about everything and nothing all at once.

✹ "you should've seen gaz's face, darl, it was priceless–"

✹ "i'm sorry, i… i dont remember you…"

��� nothing has ever shut him up quite as effectively as those words.

✹ "wh… what? stop messin' about, bonnie," he chuckles, desperately searching your eyes for the humour that was missing. when you only shake your head in response, the smile fades from his face and quickly morphs into concern.

✹ "sergeant mactavish, how many times do i have to tell you to get off the bed!" the nurse exclaims as she enters the room. he doesn't get down though, just fixes her with the most intense look he's ever worn.

✹ "why don't they remember me?"

✹ the nurse explains that an injury like yours was bound to cause some lasting damage, but amnesia was more often than not temporary.

✹ "i'm sorry, i wish i could remember you…" you mutter, dropping your gaze to your lap as he turns back to you.

✹ johnny exhales deeply, finding a great sense of comfort that you'll most likely get your memory back. he gently tilts your chin up again so he can stare deep into your eyes.

✹ "don't apologise, that just means i get to woo you all over again, bonnie."

ghost

✹ simon would be destroyed.

✹ while you're knocked out its like he forgets how to be human. he eats, sleeps, and breathes on autopilot – like a robot with a function, no feeling, just keeping himself alive until you wake up.

✹ it worries the others, price especially, but the walls around his heart are expertly crafted, and without you by his side he sees no purpose in lowering them.

✹ when you do wake up, the first thing you see is him, sitting at your bedside with his hand enclosed around yours. his eyes are closed, but he's still very much awake, in fact he finds himself unable to rest anywhere but in the chair by your side.

✹ the way you try to pull your hand from his brings him back to the present and alerts him to your consciousness. his eyes snap open in less than a second, already glassy with the pure relief he feels now you're back.

✹ but you're looking at him differently. where there would once be soft affection, now he can only see confusion, and worst of all, panic.

✹ and there's fear in how your shoulders bunch up, but simon tries his best to ignore that thought.

✹ "hey, you're alright, darlin'," he coos, as gentle as he can manage, pushing the rising dread to the back of his mind.

✹ he presses the button to call the nurse, letting go of your trembling hand bringing it up to your shoulder. your worried gaze flicks to his arm and back to his face, which makes him pause in his tracks.

✹ "who… who are you?"

✹ simon's waited so long to hear your voice again, but hearing those four words from you shatters his heart into pieces.

✹ no.

✹ you didn't forget him. there was no way.

✹ "it's…" he swallows hard, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to fall. "it's me, love, it's simon."

✹ you're still looking at him with that same anxious expression, and he curses himself when he realises he's still wearing his balaclava. he practically rips it from his head, dropping it to the floor without a care for where it fell.

✹ your eyes study his bare face, tracing over every crease and scar, the mess of hair on top of his head, and finally landing on his desperate eyes.

✹ "i'm sorry, i…" you look guilty, the subtle shake of your head hurting simon like a knife to the chest. "...do i know you?"

✹ the silence that follows your words is unbearable.

✹ you really did forget him.

✹ all the time you'd spent together, the memories you shared, the love you had; it was all gone, just like that.

✹ suddenly he felt like the walls were closing in on him, he couldn't get enough air and his skin was crawling with the need to escape.

✹ at that moment, the nurse comes through the doors, startling simon into standing from the chair and stumbling backwards. he never takes his eyes off of your guilt-ridden face. you didn't know him, not anymore, and that meant he was all alone again, with no one to care for him and call home.

✹ the emptiness in his chest was enough to make him want to rip the hair from his scalp.

✹ the nurse says something, stealing your attention from him with words he's too overwhelmed to listen to. he takes the opportunity to back away, disappearing through the doors with a hand covering his mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.

✹ it was a miracle to two of you got together in the first place – simon didn't know if he could get you to love him again.

[archangeldyke-all]

Size queen Sevika has a chokehold on my mind right now so I was wondering what it would be like using the ejaculating strap on her AAA

Maybe some breeding kink thrown in there too jsksjsjsjsksk

heheheheheheheh i'm gonna make this ceo sev because i miss her!!

men and minors dni

before you were married, sevika made an effort to keep your love lives and your work lives separate-- not wanting it to seem like you had any kind of unfair advantage because of your relationship status to the ceo. your little desk was tucked in the corner of sevika's office back then, where you could eavesdrop on her meetings and make appointments and calls with her without interrupting or interfering with her work.

but now that you've tied the knot, sevika's given up on trying to pretend like you aren't her favorite employee. she's rearranged her office completely, so there's enough room for two matching desks, pushed right up against one another. it leaves no room for sevika to have visitors in her office, you guys play footsie all day, and when she looks up from her work the first thing she sees is you. she loves it.

you love it too.

but it has its drawbacks, because it means you can't hide anything from your wife. like the package you're opening right now with your name on it-- a package you'd completely forgotten about ordering-- a package containing what was supposed to be sevika's birthday present this year.

when you realize what it is-- it's too late. sevika's already seen the way you gasped and heard the little giggle you let out before quickly closing the box again.

"whatcha got, baby?" she asks, her foot reaching out to hook around your ankle.

you clear your throat and shove the package into a drawer, shaking your head. "nothing." you say. dammit. that sounds suspicious as hell.

sevika tilts her head, her gaze sharpening a bit, a smile growing on her lips. "nothing?" she asks. you huff.

"fine. it's something but i can't tell you what it is for a number of reasons."

"reasons being?"

"reasons being you have a birthday coming up and i want to surprise you and you have a meeting in half an hour that you cannot be late to."

and goddamn your wife for being so fucking smart. and so fucking pretty.

sevika's brow furrows for a moment, her eyes darting to the side as her mind races with the possibilities of what could be in the package, and you swear you can actually hear a bell go off inside her head when she perks up in her seat and looks back at you with a sparkle in her eye and a smile.

"baby..." she starts. you huff.

"sevika if you ruin your birthday present i'm not getting you ano--"

"did you get me a dildo for my birthday?" she asks fondly. you groan and kick your wife's shin, and she cackles. "you're incredible!" she laughs.

"it was supposed to be a surprise sevika, you're such an asshole." you pout.

"well lemme see!" she demands, making grabby hands across her desk.

you giggle and give up on trying to surprise your wife. it's never worked before. you pass the package across your desks, and sevika tears into it like a kid on christmas morning.

you check behind your shoulder to make sure none of your coworkers are looking through the glass walls as sevika gasps with shock. "you got me a fuckin' breeding strap?"

when you turn back around in your seat, sevika's holding the dildo box to her chest like it's a teddy bear, and there are stars in her eyes. you cackle.

"would you put that away before somebody sees you?!" you ask. sevika giggles and puts the box back inside the cardboard packaging it came in. "and to answer your question... no. i didn't." you say.

sevika blinks up at you, caught off guard. "y-you didn't?" she asks. you smirk and stand, reaching across your desk to tug your wife across hers by her tie until your lips are only a few inches apart.

"i got me a breeding strap. all you're getting is the synthetic cum i'm gonna fill you with tonight." sevika gulps and you smirk, leaning forward to kiss her parted lips. "now, i gotta go set up the conference room for your meeting, so be a good girl for me and put that away for me and look over your notes." you demand as you turn around to leave your office.

the last thing you hear before the glass door closes behind you is your wife's sweet groan.

sevika glares at you the entire meeting. she's also rock hard the entire meeting.

of course, you're the only one who notices this last part--with your hand casually palming her cock under the solid wood table the entire time; so the looks she's giving you must be incredibly confusing for your coworkers. seamus even asks you after the meeting if everything's been alright at home. you have to hold back a cackle as you assure him that things have literally never been better.

and it's true. every day you fall deeper and deeper in love with your wife. you know the same is true for her, it's proven in how fucking fast she drives home.

in the very beginning of your relationship, sevika never bottomed. but as she grew more secure in your connection, she allowed herself to be more vulnerable with you... and now, three years married, your wife's a loud and proud size queen.

she's jittery with excitement on the elevator ride up to your apartment. when you get home, she kicks her shoes off, tears off her tie, and smacks your ass as she sprints to the bathroom. "you put your dick on, i'll go get ready!!" she giggles.

you snort, your heart swelling with fondness as you wander to the bedroom and begin getting ready.

the dildo's a little tricky to figure out, and you have to research if your synthetic cum is microwave safe, and how long to microwave it to make it warm enough to feel like real cum-- but by the time you're all ready, sevika's running out of the bathroom butt-naked and grinning.

she launches herself onto the bed, spreading out like a starfish on her belly as you giggle. "come on!" she says, shaking her ass a bit at you. you snort.

"you're fuckin' ridiculous." you giggle as you crawl on top of your wife. "hips up." you whisper, shoving a pillow under her hips to give her a better angle and something to grind against. she starts grinding immediately. you smack her ass and she yelps. "don't get too worked up baby. you're not allowed to cum until you milk my load outta me."

sevika shivers and claws the blankets beneath her. "f-fuck." she stutters. you giggle and reach your hand forward, shoving two fingers in her mouth.

"get 'em wet for me, love." you demand. sevika's lips and tongue wrap around your fingers immedietly, soft moans and squelches starting to fill the room as sevika bobs her head on your hand like it's a cock. it's hot as fuck, and you can't help yourself from reaching down and sucking a hickey into her shoulder as she gets you ready for her. "god, you're perfect."

sevika shivers again, a little whine escaping her and tickling your fingers with the vibrations. with your free hand, you start groping her ass, teasing her hole without penetrating, getting her worked up and arching into your touch.

when she's just panting around your fingers-- sucking completely forgotten-- you decide that she's ready for you.

she takes your spit soaked fingers with ease, muffling her whimper into her folded arms. you let her get away with hiding her sounds for now-- in a few minutes you'll have her screaming, anyways.

when two fingers become three you know she's ready.

"you hear how wet your hole is for me? haven't even put my cock in you yet-- you're such a slut, baby."

"i'd be more of a slut if i had your dick in me." she mumbles.

you cackle and smack her ass again. sevika huffs a little laugh at her own joke, and you pick that moment to slide your cock in her.

she sputters, squeaks, and then groans so loud you're pretty sure the walls shake. "good?" you ask.

sevika's too busy gasping and trying to smack her hips back on yours to answer, so she shoots you a thumbs up over her shoulder. you laugh again, sink your nails into her hips, and start fucking her like she deserves.

for a while, it's just grunts and gasps and moans and kissing sounds. you re-adjust a few times, trying to find a good position and rhythm, until you're basically mounting her, buried balls deep in her and pounding her into the mattress.

you can always tell when you're fucking sevika right because her whole left leg starts to spasm, from thigh to toes. it's cute as hell-- she has no control over it-- and it makes you want to fucking ruin her. you growl when her calf starts quivering, reaching forward and grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head out of her arms.

"fuck!" sevika cries. "f-fuck you fuck me so good, what the fuck?" she babbles.

she looks delicious beneath you, her strong back writhing as she squirms on the bed.

"i'm gonna knock you up." you grunt, smacking her ass. sevika whines. "you're so fuckin' good sevika, gonna fill you with my cum 'n fuck you til it takes-- give you my fuckin' kids."

"fuck, stop talkin' like that or you'll make me cum!" she whines. you snort. she's trying so hard to be good and wait for you to cum like you told her to, but she's so easy when you start talking about breeding her.

"thought you were gonna be good?" you ask, clawing at sevika's ass.

"i'm trying but you're-- fuck! there!-- fucking me too good!" she cries.

you giggle. "well, then, you better hurry up 'n make me cum before you do, baby."

sevika flails around for a few seconds, reaching out to try and reach your body from where you've mounted her, but she's basically pinned beneath you. she groans in frustration, lets out a tiny moan, and then takes a big breath.

"p-please cum in me." she whines. it's your turn to shiver. her voice is just so pathetic and sweet, and you can feel the tension in her body from the way she's trying to keep herself from cumming-- like a rubber band ready to snap. "please, please cum in me-- you're so fuckin' big, you're so deep, i know it'll work-- you'll knock me up this time, i know it-- i want your cum-- i want your kids-- baby ple--" sevika cuts herself off with a gasp as you start to cum, grinding against her ass as you squeeze the little pump you'd hooked in your harness.

"f-fuck, take it baby--" you pull out just for a moment, just to see the way your cum leaks out of her ass, just to spurt a few drops on her lower back-- and that's all it takes for sevika to fall apart.

you laugh as she cries and cums into the blankets, sinking yourself back inside her hole and giving her the rest of the cum loaded in your dick.

"it's warm." she whimpers.

you heave a breath and then burst into giggles. "microwaved it for you."

this makes sevika giggle too. "that was way more cum than any healthy human should be producing." she cackles. you giggle.

sevika's thighs are drenched in the sticky substance, and you're sure when you pull out the mess will only get worse. still though. "that was hot as fuck." you mumble.

sevika grins. "best birthday gift ever." she agrees. you snort and smack her ass one more time-- just for good measure.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @claude999 @nhaaauyen

[zevrra]

may i request some more nsfw love n deepspace <3 i love the headcanons u posted aaa

one more—

tags: 18(+), mdni, very nsfw, suggestive content, fem!reader, short & sweet, men of LaDS!!

creator notes: omg i’m glad you liked them!! i haven’t played the game (i have but like when it first came out!) so i know none of the lore and hope i wasn’t writing the men ooc or anything aaaaa!!!! but i’m glad you enjoyed them enough to request for more!! thanks for requesting as well!

SYLUS—

actually makes you wear a collar and a leash

your first time together was rough, both of you fighting for dominance over each other but ultimately he won

degrades you!!!

calls you “kitten” when you please him but any other time he’s telling you how pathetic you are for wanting him as badly as you do

loves it when you’re a brat solely so he can break you later

is so into tying you up, forcing you to take whatever he gives you

especially likes it when he ties your hands behind your back and makes you ride him

loves to watch you struggle

you have a safe word for a reason!!!!!!

is 8 inches and thick as all hell, deep red tip, veiny

RAFAYEL—

the first time you both wanted to be intimate he was a nervous wreck

took you a few times to steady his hands and convince him that you wanted it too

worships you like a goddess when you fuck

i secretly think he has amazing stamina but hides it from you

that way you’re on round 3, overstimulated and he’s asking “once more please one more time my love.”

begs you for it!!!

i’d like to think he’s a switch! let’s you start things, get him all heated and needy, then he takes total control

also think he’s always in the mood

24/7 he wants to touch you, taste you but holds himself back and instead makes jokes

is probably 6.5 inches, curved, and flushed pink

XAVIER—

you two struggle to go on missions together anymore solely because you always want to touch each other

always requests for you to be his partner too

loves having sex under the stars

especially when you ride him and he gets to see the stars halo your head

his max number of rounds he’s gone without passing out is 3

once he wakes up though he’s ready to continue

knows every single one of your weaknesses

he rarely makes noise when you two fuck but constantly reminds you how good you look

“baby you look so beautiful.” he says as he has your legs on his shoulder, pounding into you

is roughly 7 inches, thicker at his base, a nice red tip

ZAYNE—

your first time with him was definitely either in his car, office, or his apartment

uses his tie to keep you quiet

he likes to let you think you’re in control but really you both know he is

uses the excuse that he’s “always cold.” and needs you to warm him up

forces you to look at him when he fucks you

especially when you want something, makes you look him in the eye as you beg him for it

praises praises praises!!!!!

“good girl.”

i also think he’s horny ALL THE TIME but only when you two are together!! then he stares at every move you make and thinks to himself how he’d take you right then and there

8.2 inches, veiny, thicker head that’s a pale pink

[internetdaddy98]

The Ties That Bind Us - Chapter 4

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[Series Masterlist]

Content Warning: Ectopic pregnancy; blood; violence; gory description; medical procedures; I have 0 medical knowledge; if I've missed any warnings, please let me know.

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The Emergency Room was already humming when you stepped in. You walked through the sliding doors, scrub top sticking to your shoulder blades where your bag had rested, your badge swinging with each step. The scent of antiseptic and saline entered your senses.

“Williams.” Dana’s voice floated over from the nurses’ station. Clipboard in one hand, coffee cup in the other. “You’ve got that ‘I slept four hours and regretted every minute’ look.”

“At least on nights no one expects me to look awake,” you scoffed.

“I didn’t want to seem too well-rested,” you replied, suppressing a yawn. “Bad for team morale.”

You weren’t sure when the hospital had started feeling more like reality than your apartment. You hadn’t slept well since changing to day shift over a week ago, your body not adjusting to sunlight had left you in limbo.

Your first case came in less than twenty minutes later.

Code Blue—female, late twenties, syncopal episode, hypotensive. Report from EMS said she collapsed in her apartment bathroom, pulse thready, GCS dropping en route. ETA two minutes.

The trauma bay swelled with motion before the doors even opened. You reached for gloves without thinking, your brain already mapping out differentials: ruptured AAA? Sepsis? Internal bleeding?

Then she was wheeled in—ashen, barely breathing, soaked in sweat. EMS was shouting vitals, and someone called out, “Positive pregnancy test. LMP unknown. No trauma history.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Get her on O2,” you snapped, stepping in. “Two large-bore IVs, run a bolus. CBC, coags, type and cross. I want a pelvic—”

“She’s hypotensive,” Perlah said. “BP seventy over forty and falling.”

Your eyes scanned the abdomen—distended, rigid.

Robby was suddenly at your side, already snapping sterile gloves on. “Could be ectopic.”

You didn’t need to answer. The look you shared said enough.

“Let’s do the bedside,” he said, and you nodded.

He handed you the ultrasound probe with steady hands “Transabdominal first,” you murmured, angling the screen. “Uterine stripe is empty…”

“Check Morrison’s pouch.”

You slid the probe, and there it was: free fluid collecting near the liver. You didn’t need a positive pregnancy test anymore.

“She’s bleeding out,” you said, your voice low but calm. “Internal rupture.”

Robby met your eyes. “OR, now.”

“Call OB,” you barked. “We need the rapid transfuser. Get a trauma pack—no, two.”

There was blood. Too much of it. But your hands stayed steady as you started the line. Robby worked the airway, quick and efficient, while you coordinated the push to surgery. The two of you didn’t speak beyond commands to the residents, but the rhythm was still there—tight, fluid, unspoken.

When the gurney finally wheeled her out, you stayed frozen in place for a second, gloves soaked, the adrenaline still ricocheting through your chest.

You peeled off your gown and leaned against the wall just outside the trauma one. Breathing finally caught up to you. The world tilted back into focus.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low. Quiet enough that it didn’t carry.

“I’m fine,” you said automatically. Then, softer, “It’s just… fast.”

He watched you for a moment. “You’ll learn to breathe in the middle of it.”

You weren’t sure if that was meant to be comforting, but you took comfort in it anyway

At lunch, you leaned beside him on the rails of the rooftop. It had become habitual to find yourself up here with him during your shifts, finding a small moment of quiet.

“You ever get used to it?” you asked, not quite looking at him. “The… not knowing how things end?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just leaned back, hands gripping the rails “No,” he said finally. “You just get better at compartmentalizing.”

“That sounds bleak.”

“It’s honest.”

Another pause. Your eyes flicked toward him, catching the faint lines at the corners of his eyes. Not quite from age. More like from carrying too much.

You tilted your head. “You ever take a day off?”

He glanced over at you. “You ever stop asking questions?”

You smirked. “Touché.”

A pause.

“You talk like someone who’s burned out and pretending not to be.”

He glanced at you, surprised. “You talk like someone who sees more than she says.”

You didn’t answer that.

Late afternoon hit you like a sledgehammer. A code blue on 4 East, two pediatric lacerations back-to-back, and a psych hold in Room 9 who threw a bedpan at you because you wouldn’t let him leave AMA.

You didn’t know Robby had seen that until you found an energy drink waiting at the nurses’ station.

No note. No acknowledgment.

You almost smiled. Almost.

You blamed your lack of sleep, but your last case got to you. It was a diabetic foot ulcer gone septic. The smell alone made your eyes water, and the patient was aggressive and confused.

You powered through the dressing, the orders, and the call to vascular. You didn’t realize how tightly your jaw was clenched until you stepped out of the room and leaned against the wall, eyes closed.

“Hey.”

You opened them to find Robby standing in front of you, arms crossed, watching you with something like… caution. Or concern.

“You good?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just… one of those days.”

“You handled it.”

“Barely.”

He looked at you, long enough that you felt your stomach twist. Not unpleasantly. Just… uncomfortably aware.

“You’re allowed to struggle, Williams. Doesn’t make you weaker.”

You nodded, swallowing past the thickness in your throat.

“I just hate that I care so much,” you said. “About getting it right. About being good.”

He hesitated. Then, softer, “That’s exactly why you will be.”

There was silence between you then. Not awkward. Just… still.

You didn’t move. Neither did he.

Eventually, you broke it. “If you say something profound and walk away dramatically, I swear I will beg Dr. Shen to take me back-”

He snorted. “I’ll save the theatrics for tomorrow.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You didn’t leave until nearly eight. Your shift had ended an hour ago, but you’d found yourself lingering—checking your charts, double-reading labs, pretending like you hadn’t just been waiting for your heartbeat to slow down.

You finally stepped out into the night, air cool against your skin. You were halfway to the parking lot when you heard footsteps behind you.

“You always stay this late?” Robby asked, walking up beside you.

You shrugged. “I was just being thorough.”

He tilted his head. “And the real reason?”

“I don’t know how to turn it off,” you confessed quietly.

He nodded like he understood. Because maybe, he did.

You walked in silence for a while, the gravel crunching beneath your sneakers, headlights flashing in the distance.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he said, just as you reached your car. “You’re not just surviving this place. You’re learning it.”

You looked at him. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

A pause. His voice dropped slightly, not softer but lower. “And you’re not easy to intimidate.”

You almost smiled. “I fake it really well.”

“I can tell.”

He looked at you like he wanted to say something else. Like he almost did.

Instead, he stepped back.

“Night, Williams.”

You climbed into your car, closed the door, and sat there for a long moment before starting the engine.

He still hadn’t said your first name.

And somehow, that felt like its own kind of tension.