#and the impact of me saying yes or saying no will almost certainly be the exact same. so my rule is no. sorry

[stellacendia]

Just got an ask from some stranger with a brand new blog about signal boosting their fundraiser. And tbh even if the blog, ask, and fundraiser post wasn't giving me mild scammy vibes I probably would've answered with something like "I can reblog it but it wouldn't be much of a boost, I've got like 10 followers" because I'm such a tiny little nobody blog I doubt it'd get them any attention anyway

[reasonsforhope]

hey, how do you cope with people saying we only have a small amount of time left to stop the worst effects of climate change? no matter how hopeful and ok i am, that always sends me back into a spiral :(

A few different ways

1. The biggest one is that I do math. Because renewable energy is growing exponentially

Up until basically 2021 to now, all of the climate change models were based on the idea that our ability to handle climate change will grow linearly. But that's wrong: it's growing exponentially, most of all in the green energy sector. And we're finally starting to see proof of this - and that it's going to keep going.

And many types of climate change mitigation serve as multipliers for other types. Like building a big combo in a video game.

Change has been rapidly accelerating and I genuinely believe that it's going to happen much faster than anyone is currently predicting

2. A lot of the most exciting and groundbreaking things happening around climate change are happening in developing nations, so they're not on most people's radars.

But they will expand, as developing nations are widely undergoing a massive boom in infrastructure, development, and quality of life - and as they collaborate and communicate with each other in doing so

3. Every country, state, city, province, town, nonprofit, community, and movement is basically its own test case

We're going to figure out the best ways to handle things in a remarkably quick amount of time, because everyone is trying out solutions at once. Instead of doing 100 different studies on solutions in order, we get try out 100 (more like 10,000) different versions of different solutions simultaneously, and then figure out which ones worked best and why. The spread of solutions becomes infinitely faster, especially as more and more of the world gets access to the internet and other key infrastructure

4. There's a very real chance that many of the impacts of climate change will be reversible

Yeah, you read that right.

Will it take a while? Yes. But we're mostly talking a few decades to a few centuries, which is NOTHING in geological history terms.

We have more proof than ever of just how resilient nature is. Major rivers are being restored from dried up or dead to thriving ecosystems in under a decade. Life bounces back so fast when we let it.

I know there's a lot of skepticism about carbon capture and carbon removal. That's reasonable, some of those projects are definitely bs (mostly the ones run by gas companies, involving carbon credits, and/or trying to pump CO2 thousands of feet underground)

But there's very real potential for carbon removal through restoring ecosystems and regenerative agriculture

The research into carbon removal has also just exploded in the past three years, so there are almost certainly more and better technologies to come

There's also some promising developments in industrial carbon removal, especially this process of harvesting atmospheric CO2 and other air pollution to make baking soda and other industrially useful chemicals

As we take carbon out of the air in larger amounts, less heat will be trapped in the atmosphere

If less heat is trapped in the atmosphere, then the planet will start to cool down

If the planet starts to cool down, a lot of things will stabilize again. And they'll probably start to stabilize pretty quickly

[saphronethaleph]

Offer accepted

Leia’s comlink chimed.

She yawned, stared at it for a moment, then two synapses connected and she snatched it up.

“I’m here,” she said. “Is something wrong?”

“Leia,” Luke said. “I’m sorry for waking you-”

“Luke?” Leia asked, now almost entirely awake. “What happened?”

“...you’re probably not going to believe me if I tell you,” Luke replied. “Can you get the command team to the west side of the village as soon as possible?”

Leia held back a yawn, which was a struggle, and checked her chrono.

“Everyone should be asleep, it’s not even dawn,” she said. “Everyone from the command team who sleeps, anyway. I can do Threepio and Artoo, and myself on about… five hours of sleep? Maybe four?”

She paused, thinking. “Chewie might be awake, I honestly don’t know. Han almost certainly won’t be.”

There was a long pause, and Leia frowned.

“Luke?” she asked her brother.

“That’ll do,” Luke decided. “See you then.”

“All right, I’m here,” Leia told Luke, unnecessarily. “Han and Chewie were both asleep, so I got another commander in their stead… what’s this about?”

She stifled a yawn, and took a drink from some caf. “This had better be important.”

“Skywalker knows what he’s doing,” Commander Rex said.

“Yeah, you weren’t speaking to him last night,” Leia muttered, glancing at Luke. “I believe Luke knows what he’s doing, I’m not so sure that what he’s doing makes any kind of sense.”

“You might need to think again on that, Leia,” Luke said. “It turns out, it was surprisingly easy… I think we’re ready.”

He gestured, and Darth Vader stalked out of the pre-dawn gloom.

Leia nearly dropped her mug of caf, but the dark and imposing impact of the scene was immediately and drastically undercut when Darth Vader actually did drop his lightsaber.

“...what in the name of Padme Amidala are you doing here, Rex?” the Terror of the Galaxy asked, his vocoder apparently suffering some strain.

“Who would-” Rex began, his blaster covering the Dark Lord, then he dropped the weapon as well. “...General? You’re – you’re Darth Vader?”

“...yes?” Vader replied, looking down at himself as if he actually had to check. “I believe so?”

Then he did a double-take.

“What are you two doing here, exactly?” he asked, his helmet turned towards Artoo and Threepio. “Is this some kind of reunion? Am I going to see Snips come out from behind a tree? Is Obi-Wan going to appear?”

He sounded slightly frazzled. “Where is Hondo Ohnaka?”

“Father,” Luke said, his voice calm. “Please, allow me to explain as much of the situation as I know myself.”

“I’m not sure how to explain this situation,” Leia said. “What is going on?”

R2 beeped something that indicated that he knew exactly what was going on, and found it very amusing, thank you very much.

“Well, I don’t,” 3P0 said, with a sniff. “Why don’t you introduce everyone, you tin can?”

“Don’t worry, 3P0,” Luke told him. “None of us are in any immediate danger.”

Leia wasn’t sure she believed that.

“Oh, thank the maker!” C-3P0 sighed.

“You’re welcome,” Vader replied, crouching down to pick up his lightsaber.

“...okay, that bit I didn’t know,” Luke admitted. “But I’d better get started or we’ll be here all morning… I went to confront my father, and turn him away from the Dark Side.”

He glanced to his side. “I… don’t know if it’s worked, but I’d say it’s working at the moment.”

“How exactly did you pull that off?” Rex asked.

“I said that the Dark Side forced me to obey my master,” Vader intoned. “Then my son told me, quite passionately, that I was not a slave – that I was a person, and my name was Anakin Skywalker.”

His shoulders moved in a slight shrug. “He also asked me to come with him. As you can see, I chose to take up the offer.”

Vader let that stand for a moment, then pointed in succession. “That is Rex, formerly the commander of my personal legion in the Clone Wars. Those are the droids C-3P0, who I built on Tatooine, and R2-D2, who worked with me during the Clone Wars after a swap of C-3P0 for R2-D2 with my wife Padme Amidala. And that is… actually, I find myself unaware of your current personal situation. The only connection between us that I am aware of is that you are the daughter of one of my wife’s close friends, and that I should probably apologize to you at some point.”

Luke coughed, and R2 made a sort of beeping giggling noise.

C-3P0 still seemed to be in shock, which was fair enough, because so was Leia.

“Furthermore,” Vader went on. “Since I have defected, I will tell you the following. The Emperor is aware of your plans. He has an entire battle group ready to ambush your fleet. The shield protecting the Death Star is to be disguised by jamming. And an entire legion of the best troops the Empire has are waiting in ambush for any attempt on the shield generator.”

“So… what you’re saying is that our enemy has an overwhelming numbers advantage, an excellent tactical and strategic position, and they know we’re coming,” Rex said, having recovered his aplomb slightly and picked up his blaster. “And the only advantage we have is that we’ve got two Skywalker Jedi on our side.”

“I am still a Sith,” Vader replied. “Not a Jedi.”

“Still,” Rex protested. “Because… yeah, they’re karked.”

“This is the place?” Han asked.

“This is it,” Chewbacca agreed.

“Still can’t believe we’re going with this plan,” Han muttered. “Still can’t believe we’re doing what Darth Vader suggested.”

“I know,” Chewbacca noted. “You said.”

“I said because it’s true, fuzzball,” Han retorted.

He glanced around at the other commandos, then to either side of the draw they were in. It was a minor flaw in the deployment positions of the Imperial legion, a small blind valley through which troops could get close enough to attack by bypassing just a few Imperial guards… with a judicious mind trick from Luke, of course.

Not many troops, though. No heavy equipment. Just men and blasters, with two blaster cannon hauled up the draw.

“Stand by,” Leia said. “Who’s in position?”

“Team Besh, in position,” Rex reported, levelling one of the blaster cannon and being careful not to skyline himself.

“Team Aurak, ready,” Han said, as Chewie readied the other blaster cannon.

“Ten seconds,” Leia said, then activated her commlink.

A commlink set to Imperial scramble frequencies.

“Execute Alderaan,” she said, firmly. “Alderaan, Alderaan, Alderaan. Open fire!”

Rex opened fire, and so did the commandos on his side of the draw. His cannon shot hit the neck of an unsuspecting AT-AT, knocking it to the side and sending up a shower of sparks, and the commandos fired out a volley of shots at troopers and officers before ducking into cover.

At almost exactly the same time, Chewbacca and Aurek team opened fire as well. With different targets to aim for, Chewbacca elected to shoot out the knee of an AT-ST, and it fell over before exploding in a cloud of smoke.

A dozen or so stomtroopers fell in the fusillade of blaster fire, and then all the Rebels were behind cover as the Imperial battalions reacted.

Each had just taken fire from the direction of the other. Each had suffered casualties and taken hits.

And they’d just heard someone give a clear codeword. And when they looked in the direction of who could have been firing… all they saw were other Imperials.

Within seconds, blaster bolts were flying back and forth over the draw, as the Rebels began evacuating back down the way they’d come in. Leia flicked her comlink away from transmit mode, then nodded, and Han took out his own.

“They’re shooting,” he said.

“We’re far enough down the valley,” Rex pointed out. “We can run now, and we’ll need to – go!”

“Admiral Piett,” Vader said, his override codes cutting him on the Executor’s main viewscreen without preamble. “Your assistance is urgently needed. The Rebels have sprung a trap.”

“Lord Vader!” Piett replied, startled. “I thought – there were reports you were missing?”

“I was investigating the Rebel presence,” Vader retorted. “I am ordering immediate orbital bombardment, coordinates seven four two aurek nine, eight three six leth two.”

“But – I don’t understand-” Admiral Piett protested, glancing at the nearest reports.

They showed that firing was going on on the surface, and two defending battalions were already reporting losses.

“I do not require your understanding, Admiral, I require your compliance,” Vader said, his voice like iron. “If your mewling causes our defeat then you will have to answer to me personally.”

Piett could almost feel the forceful grip around his collar.

“Don’t just sit there!” he snapped, turning to the command pit. “Get a shield window ready and open fire!”

The Executor’s port turbolaser batteries opened fire, two volleys blasting into the sphere of the planetary shield, then a third one passed right through the now-open shield window and raised hell on the ground. The explosions hit like the mightiest ground artillery available to the Empire, raising huge plumes of smoke, and harried officers and ratings called reports back and forth.

“Correct north, fourteen,” Vader said, firmly.

“Correcting north fourteen!” one of the officers said, and the turbolasers spat fire again.

And destroyed the main shield dish in a fountain of explosions.

“What?” Piett demanded. “What just happened? Lord Vader, what is going on?”

The channel had already closed.

About ten seconds later, one of the Executor’s escort star destroyers opened fire on it, and Piett lost all track of what was happening.

“All wings report in,” Lando called, flicking a switch as the Falcon closed in on the Death Star, then frowned at his scanners as Wedge and Arvel and the others reported their squadrons ready.

“...well, I don’t know what’s going on there, but it sure looks like Han and the others have pulled something off,” he said.

There was some kind of battle going on in sector 3-7, what looked like an Imperial battlegroup tearing itself apart with turbolaser fire flashing back and forth in every direction and a boil of fighters trying to work out who was on what side. There was also a battle on the surface going on, one far more intense than anything Lando had expected the commandos to need to do.

Or be capable of.

“It looks like the Imperials are doing our job for us,” Nien suggested.

“Yeah, but we’ve still got a job to do,” Lando muttered. “Other squadrons on combat patrol; red group, gold group, all fighters follow me! Let’s pop that grenade!”

He shook his head. “And I thought rescuing Han was chaotic! I wonder who came up with this?”

[dduane]

hello mrs. duane, i've been following you for a while, but i just wanted to say that the young wizards series is one of my favorite series of novels that i've ever read and has a huge impact on how i write my own stories and worlds, so thank you for creating them. my absolute favorite detail about how the YW series works though is the nature of the ordeal and how that informs the dynamic between wizards and the lone power. the whole system of "a young wizard is given an ordeal because they'd be the best suited to take on the lone power for this particular problem" is really cool and interesting, but i absolutely love how the way it's handled means that the lone power basically has Personal Beef with every single wizard in the universe. something about how the lone power is always like "oh fuck, not these two again" every time it sees that nita and kit are involved in foiling another one of its plans is so funny to me, especially how absolutely sick of their shit it was in wizards' holiday when it was asking for kit and nita's help. it's just such a fascinating and entertaining dynamic and adds so much to the lone power's character as an antagonist. i just wanted to tell you how much i enjoy it.

I'm glad all that works for you. :)

If I have a recurring preference for my bad guys—Big Bad or otherwise—it's that they need to have sound reasons for engaging with their antagonists/victims/whatever, and not just be flailing around aimlessly looking for ways to be Eeeeevil and make unfocused trouble. They should also, ideally, routinely see themselves as being in the right: and in some cases, the injured parties. (One model for this attitude I got from Le Guin—that line in The Left Hand Of Darkness where the King asks some poor functionary light years away, by ansible, "What makes a man a traitor?" and the answer comes back "I do not know... No man considers himself a traitor: this makes it hard to find out.")

The Lone Power is therefore well in this mold. It would probably (in the first instance, anyway) have had no trouble with engaging with Creation had Its colleagues not insisted on disagreeing with It regarding its uniquely annoying invention, Entropy. Instead, though, they took the undignified and inelegant approach of not only siding with physical Creation against It, but unilaterally enforcing this attitude by (the hyperdimensional version of) brute force!—surely the last refuge of those with no really solid argument on their side.

So It's left stuck in profound disdain for the Creation all its peers are defending, and yet is forced (again and again) to descend into that creation, into the icky mucky morass of gross physical embodiment, to try to demonstrate to the other Powers and their deluded minions how wrong they are about the value of Life. And yes, absolutely, It has serious beef with every single damn scrap of living matter that has the absolute gall to be alive in Its despite. The more sentient, the more beef.

And the more sentient those chunks of Life prove themselves by repeatedly getting in the Lone One's face, the more galled It gets by them. Especially the ones who have the absolute cheek to claim to be doing it on purpose, because they seem to think they have some right to have beef with It! It's like being dissed by bugs. Infuriating! Makes It want to stomp on them all the harder.

Needless to say, the "bugs" have their own take on this. :) (Which just pisses It off worse.) And that a being that's come to disdain sentience itself as wasted on the lower orders winds up spending so much of Its own sentience on attempting to punish such lesser beings... well, the irony's almost certainly inescapable, sometimes, even for that One, so very invested in being Right. Viewed from a vantage point closer to the Heart of things, you could almost feel sorry for It. And in some moods, you'd be tempted to laugh at It... which naturally It pretty much hates more than anything else.

Eventually, of course, the goal (whispered here and there in Timeheart) is that It will discover being Right is of less value in the long run than it originally believed: that what matters is correcting the error—if it can be corrected—and starting over. What that will look like, for the time being wizards can do no more than speculate.

Meanwhile, they continue to take things personally. Earning the Lone One's very personal enmity, and indeed doing it repeatedly, isn't at all safe. But in some moods, it can be really, really fun... which (both in those moods, and out of them) is what makes Nita and Kit and their colleagues so dangerous. :)

[sv5hive]

in every universe? | cl16

pairing(s): charles leclerc x fem!reader

content warning(s): use of y/n, pretending the university of monaco has an architecture course shhhh, inaccurate architecture course information bcos i am lazy, ma**ia bin**to mention IM SORRY

word count: 2,580

note: this is my longesttt fic yet and i had so much fun writing it!! i hope you like it just as much 🫶🏻

masterlist!

"so in summary, i want to see how you will finance your project while keeping your budget in mind, any issues you may come across and their solutions, the influence behind it, how it might impact the environment and the population as well as visual aids to guide the audience. these presentations are due next month and remember! it is your responsibility to arrange times to work on the presentation together. i won't be accepting any excuses whatsoever!"

you chewed on the end of your pen at your professor's reminder as you watched everyone filter out the doors from your seat right at the back.

group projects always meant you would have to do all the work yourself just to share equal credit with everyone else in the group who didn't even attempt to contribute. this project was unlikely to be any different. it didn't help that you hadn't yet managed to make any genuine friendships with your classmates. it was understandable though, considering the expected workload at such a renowned university like monaco.

"hi, are you y/n l/n?"

too deep in your own thoughts about the assignment, you didn't realise the room had emptied completely. you also didn't realise other people apart from your professor knew your name. moving your gaze up to the source of the sound, you found a man almost too good looking to be true.

"oh, uh, yeah. yes, i am. sorry, who are you?"

with each word that escaped your mouth, you felt your face heating up. you didn't mean to be rude but you truly had no idea who you were talking to. how had you never noticed this greek god of a man in your class until now?

"i'm charles leclerc. we're in a group together for the assignment and i thought it would be a good idea to get your number so we can talk set up a time to talk about our ideas."

he held out his unlocked phone to you, inviting you to type in your number. if he was offended by your failure to recognise him it certainly didn't show which helped calm your frazzled nerves.

"oh, of course! sorry, i'm not used to someone else taking responsibility in a group project. usually i'm stuck doing everyone's work on top of my own. here you go." you replied while saving your number into his contacts.

he smiled at your admission and reassured you he wouldn't dare leave you to handle the entire project alone.

"i already have everyone else's numbers so i'll make a groupchat too. when are you free?"

as much as you would like to lie and say you had a life outside of studying, you didn't. but you would gladly say yes to any get together if it meant charles would be there too.

"honestly, i'm always free so any time works for me." you explained while packing your bag and standing up from your seat.

he grinned and walked with you towards the exit and out the building.

"yeah? how about now? there's this café i've heard is really good and i've been meaning to try it, i just haven't had the time recently."

you stopped in your tracks.

was he asking you on a date? this was definitely new. obviously you had been in a few relationships before but they had never quite managed to get you flustered like this on the first meeting.

truth be told, he had gone to that café a million times over as it was the closest one to campus that served the best croissants for cheap but you didn't need to know that.

"are you asking me on a date?" you asked, not hesitating to get straight to the point.

his grin flickered for a split second, almost in surprise at your bluntness, before growing impossibly wider.

"uh, yeah, i'm asking you on a date right now. so? what do you say?"

"hmmm, and what do i get out of it if i say yes?"

you didn't think twice about taking him up on his offer but it was fun to watch him scramble for reasons you should have a coffee with him. you watched him come up with several nonsensical arguments before you decided to put him out of his misery.

"relax, i'll go on a date with you! you should've seen your face!"

he blushed at your antics before joining in your giggles at his own expense. he had a feeling your laughter would become his favourite sound.

"what are you waiting for then? lead the way."

unsurprisingly, you two were the only ones who took part in the group project but you couldn't complain when you had such good company to help you.

"this is charles leclerc, he will be your race engineer starting from next season." your team principal fred vasseur gently pushed you away from your teammate to the new hire fresh out of internship at haas.

after the quick decline of your 2022 season, ferrari had wasted no time in sacking binotto and your less than competent engineer for much more suitably equipped individuals.

"pleasure to meet you, charles. i'm y/n l/n. are you sure you're ready for this?" you outstretch your hand to shake his.

"thank you, it's a pleasure to meet you as well, you are an inspiration to so many. i'm extremely grateful to be given this opportunity to work with such a talented driver like yourself. and yes i'm one hundred percent ready to give my everything so you can bring home some wins and maybe even the championship." he spoke with a conviction almost as if he had been practicing it in the mirror for weeks.

his hand wrapped around yours and you couldn't help but notice how warm they were even in the frigid winter. you grinned at his confidence and faith in not only himself but also the team and you as a driver. it was certainly the energy you needed after the less than impressive season that you had just wrapped up.

"i like him already! so much more positive than my last engineer. where have you been all this time?" you declared patting him on the back while looking at your team principal in approval.

he was so sure you could notice the pink tinge on his cheeks as he nervously smiled at your praise and suddenly found the carpeted floor the most interesting thing in the room to observe.

"i'm glad you two are getting along! now let's get on with this meeting. i would like to get home at a reasonable time today."

as the meeting dragged on, you found yourself staring at charles opposite you out of nothing but pure curiosity and maybe a little bit of humour. it was clear he harboured some feelings towards you that he couldn't hide no matter how hard he tried. that much was evident in the way he refused to even glance in your direction at the risk of making eye contact.

"we don't quite know how the others will perform yet but we definitely expect to be more on pace with red bull next year. this season wasn't our best but it gives us a good foundation to improve on which is better than nothing. any questions?"

even if there were any questions left unanswered everyone was much too tired to articulate them and so the meeting room fell into silence before you all said your goodbyes to each other wishing everyone a restful winter break.

you were headed out the door when you heard your name being called. you turned to see charles jogging to catch up to you and so you decided to wait for him at the exit.

"you excited for the winter break?" you strike up a conversation with him as you dawdled towards the car park together.

"yes, but i'm more excited for the season to start. i've been preparing for this my whole life. what about you? surely you're tired of being in the car?" he questioned with genuine interest.

"no, not really. i mean i've been preparing for this my whole life too. the travelling is a lot to handle but there's nothing more i enjoy than being in the car. don't get me wrong, i do like being at home too. i just love racing so much i wish i could do it all the time."

"really? you don't ever get tired of racing?" he looked over at you in wonder and you smiled at his disbelief.

"really. ever since i was a kid i've always wanted to be racing constantly. what about you? i mean pretty much all of us drivers got into the sport through karting. what made you want to be a race engineer?"

"well actually i did get into karting too. my father took me and my brothers to a local track and it all started there. i liked karting but i was always more interested in the technical side. my younger brother arthur liked it a lot though and he decided to pursue a career. he's actually stepping up to formula 2 next year."

"yeah? he must be pretty good then." you didn't recognise his brother's name because you were too busy with your own preparation every race weekend to watch the support series but you took his word for it.

"yeah, i'm really glad he's made it this far. we didn't have much money for karting when he was just starting out but we managed to make it work."

you were all too familiar with the struggles of funding and putting together enough sponsors just to make it through the season. there were already very few people getting into motorsport and the high costs didn't help. you had seen too many young talents drop out because they just couldn't afford it anymore. you were one of the lucky ones to secure a place in the ferrari driver academy and have their money to fall back on.

realising you were getting closer and closer to your car, you slowed down in hopes you could keep talking to charles for longer.

"so, why ferrari? it's a team with lots of history but we haven't won a championship since 2008." you asked with no ill intentions.

you really were just interested seeing as the team was currently the laughing stock amongst the grid and the fans - which you didn't blame them for. they had thrown away several chances of a championship with some of the most talented drivers, purely due to their own inability to perform when it was needed most.

"that doesn't matter to me. i've supported ferrari since i was little so it wasn't even a question which team i wanted to join. i remember i used to always follow the red car when they raced at monaco even before i knew it was a ferrari. anyone who has the chance to be a part of ferrari, would take that chance, no? i've barely started here but there's something special about being a part of ferrari." he explained with a look in his eyes that you could only imagine was the same wonder that appeared when watching the red ferrari of kimi räikkönen speed around his home track.

"what about you? you're the one who actually drives for ferrari so what made you sign with them?"

you stopped upon reaching your car neatly tucked inside the white lines.

"ah, i would love to tell you but i do have to get home."

charles' smile fell before he agreed, making his own excuses about his neighbours complaining of his late night ruckus he caused. both of you were disappointed at the fact you couldn't just keep talking for hours but you had another idea up your sleeve.

"but i would be happy to have dinner with you tomorrow to continue this conversation if you're free? if you want to join me that is! you don't have to."

"no, no i want to! that would be great! here's my number. i'll pick you up at 7?"

his initial plans of acting casual around you had been thrown out the window and he was already wishing for time to go faster. you couldn't help but smile at his eagerness - it was a change from your usually soulless dates who treated you like arm candy.

"great! thank you, charles, really. i haven't been this optimistic about an upcoming season in a while but you've already made me excited for the future, even though we just met. i have a feeling we're going to enjoy a lot of victories together." you admitted honestly.

you hadn't been completely happy with any of your seasons with the scuderia so far, always hungry for more despite exceeding the expectations of many.

"thank you, that's the biggest compliment i could receive. i have no doubt we can bring the team many wins."

the 2023 season went on to be one of your best performances in a time where red bull dominance was ever growing. although the championship was not quite in your firm grasp just yet, you had come closer than ever with the help of new management and, more importantly, charles. this was simply the beginning for you two.

"hey charles?" you called out looking up from your phone screen to find him pulling on his race suit.

"yes, mon ange?" he replied turning to face you sitting on the tiny bed.

even though you two had been dating for years, him and his pet names never failed to fluster you.

"do you think we're soulmates in every universe?" you asked after seeing the tik tok trend appear on your phone.

you weren't really expecting a serious answer from charles. you knew it was a silly theory but you decided to entertain the thought. however it seemed that charles had a different idea.

"maybe, maybe not. i'd like to think we are but even if we're not, that doesn't matter. what matters is that we're together in this one, no? besides, even if we weren't destined to be together, i'd still find you and choose you in every universe." he voiced casually, placing a soft kiss on your forehead while looking around the room for his racing boots.

his confessions of undying love to you had become a daily occurrence and it was always certain his words would make your heart melt.

"you've seen the trend, haven't you?" you questioned him. there was no way he had just come up with that answer on the spot.

"what trend? mon amour, you know i am not on social media as much as you are."

"the tik tok trend! are you sure you haven't seen it?"

"yes, i am very sure, mon ange. come on, i don't need to see a tik tok to tell you that i will always choose you."

you didn't fully believe him but you also knew that he was a terrible liar, his facial expressions giving him away no matter what with each attempt made.

"come here. one last good luck kiss for me?" he asked with a pleading look you could never deny and pulled you from the bed by your arms.

"of course, my love. i want you back safe in one piece, ok?" you held his face in your hands and placed a delicate kiss on his forehead, nose, each cheek and finally, his lips.

"anything for you."

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

A few people have defended Chloe and Lila's writing by saying that teenagers being just as capable of heroism as adults means that they need to be just as capable of villainy as adults. I know that's not good logic, but I can't put my finger on WHY it's not good logic, can you weigh in on this?

I actually don't think it's bad logic at all. They're right. Teenagers are absolutely capable of being monsters. A teenage bully may not have the wide reaching impacts of a terrorist, but teenage bullies still do real and lasting harm that can shape victims for the rest of their lives.

This is why you have to be really careful when it comes to redeeming either of these characters (and also Sabrina since she's almost as bad as Chloe in my eyes). You cannot minimize the harm that they've caused by saying "well, they're just kids" or even by pointing out that Chloe and Sabrina were victims of abuse.

Fourteen-year-olds are more than old enough to know right from wrong. Yes, they're not full adults yet, but they're in the stage of life where they're learning how to be adults. That's why we call them young adults! People in this stage of life are very capable of understanding that their words and actions can hurt people. Heck, three-year-olds are capable of that! If you don't think that these teenage characters understood that bullying Marinette was hurting Marinette, then you're arguing that these characters have some sort of developmental disability or psychological disorder or something of that nature that is effecting their development in an extreme manner. If so, then that requires immediate serious intervention by professionals, but I don't think that anyone is making that argument for anyone save, maybe, Lila.

On the abuse side of things: being a victim is not a free pass to hurt innocents. Victims don't get a magic ticket that says, "you may now do one free abuse" every time that they're abused. By that logic, giving Audrey an abusive past would absolve her of everything that she did to Chloe. The same goes for Gabriel and Adrien, which is why this is such shitty logic. Nothing justifies Gabriel and Audrey's actions. What they did to their children was wrong.

The same logic applies to all characters and all types of abuse. Victim status doesn't prevent you from becoming an abuser. It's actually quite common for abuse to lead to more abuse which is part of why you can't grant exceptions on the basis of victim status. If you do that, then you eventually reach a point where no one is accountable because everyone has been abused and is therefore a blameless victim who can do no wrong. No one wants to live in a world like that.

There is of course, a lot of nuance to this topic and a lot of it is heavily situational. For example, I totally believe that certain exceptions have to made for extreme cases that I'm not going to give examples of to avoid triggering content, but you can probably think of some. However, we're not talking about extreme cases here. The characters that we're talking about are reasonably normal fourteen-year-olds. Young adults who have been allowed to be part of society and who know that what they're doing is wrong. And if they don't know that bullying and terrorism are wrong? Then we're back to the concern that something is deeply wrong with these characters and they need immediate serious intervention from trained professionals.

To be fair, Lila may end up being that kind of character, but Chloe and Sabrina certainly aren't. Since Chloe was the character mentioned in the original ask, we'll focus on her for the rest of this. While Chloe has absolutely been abused, she's not some isolated victim who has no idea how the world works. She's been allowed a reasonably normal childhood. This scene from Malediktator is actually pretty solid writing for a character like Chloe:

Ladybug: I'm fine with helping you, Chloé, but first… I need you to tell me what happened. Why is your father— I mean, Malediktator, so mad? Chloé: It's because of this super lame loser named Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She's this horrible girl in my class and she hates me. (Ladybug looks angry, but then contains her feelings) She's ganged everyone up against me and she— Ladybug: Maybe this Marinette girl isn't entirely to blame? Chloé: Uh! Ugh. Okay, it wasn't totally Marinette's fault. She is really mean to me sometimes, but actually, this time, Daddy got angry all by himself. Ladybug:(not buying it) All by himself? Chloé: Yeah, because… there was something he couldn't do… Ladybug:(puts a hand on Chloé's shoulder) Chloé, it's me, Ladybug. You can trust me. You can tell me the truth. Chloé: I— I— Ladybug: Mm-hmm. Chloé: It— it was me. I hurt my daddy's feelings. Because I want to leave Paris, forever.

She knows right from wrong and she knows when she's hurting people. She just doesn't care most of the time because she's never had to face consequences for causing harm so why should she care? It's not like it effects her! This is why she only cares about the damage she causes when it effects her or the people she loves.

That's not a deeply messed up world view. A lot of people only have strong feelings about things effecting those they love. Chloe just needs to work on being more neutral to people outside her circle because that's how we make a happy functioning society. (This is a hint of that nuance I mentioned before. I'll give a few more hints as we go on, but we won't really be digging into it due to word count. Just know that I'm aware of it.)

Giving Chloe an abusive past didn't absolve her of her actions. It just gave us a potential reason for why she does what she does. This actually does make Chloe's abuse important! Once we know the reasons why her character is doing something, we can then understand her character and better guide her story. Understanding that she's a victim means that she can be helped because this isn't some inherent part of her. It's learned behavior and that means that she can unlearn it.

And now we get to circle back to the original ask and discuss why it's still valid to be mad about Chloe and Lila's treatment and why it IS bad even though it's not wrong to have "evil" teenagers.

The reason why Chloe and Lila's lack of redemption is concerning is because full grown adults who have done far worse things are being redeemed based on nothing while these two teenage girls are being treated as beyond hope. If Gabriel Agreste and André Bourgeois are allowed to have happy endings without doing anything to earn those happy endings, then why are Chloe and Lila being treated as devils? What message is this show trying to send to kids? That it's okay to be a terrorist as long as your reasons are good, but be a bully at 14 and you're doomed for life? That's total BS!

It's especially concerning because Chloe's bad treatment of her adult father is being used to justify his redemption while Audrey and Andre's terrible parenting is not being used to give Chloe a similar free pass. Writers, wtf are you doing? No one should be getting a free pass in this situation. They all need to take action to right their wrongs if they want to be redeemed. Andre shipping Chloe off to live with her mother is an adult man saying, "oops, raised that one wrong! We'll let's just pretend that never happened."

Don't get me wrong, Chloe's actions are still fully her own and she needs to own that, but crying, "Daddy" only held power because Andre did whatever Chloe told him to do. He held all the power and was happy to misuse it in order to make his daughter happy. That means that he holds blame here, too. He allowed his daughter to become a total brat by encouraging bratty behavior.

This was not a situation where Chloe was a danger to others for some reason. A situation where Andre was truly doing the best anyone could hope to do in order to keep his daughter placated so that she didn't physically hurt anyone. It was also not a situation where forces beyond Andre's control were effecting his daughter and shaping her personality while he was desperately trying to guide her down the right path. It was just plain old terrible parenting. He spoiled Chloe rotten, got the completely predictable end result, and then threw her out for a better version that someone else raised. What an uplifting message! (That was sarcasm.)

Chloe and Lila would have worked reasonably well in a story where all of the important characters were teens. A story where Lila was always the big bad, Gabriel was a minor character, and Chloe's parents never got any screen time.

That's not the story that the writers wrote, though, so the "teenagers can be evil" defense falls flat because if domestic terrorists aren't evil and child abusers aren't evil, but bratty teenage girls are, then what are we even doing here? This is extra true because the people this show is aimed at are not adult men. They're little girls who may very well relate to Chloe and Lila.

There's also the issue of Chloe being dammed while other teen characters were given a free pass for no real reason. Felix, Sabrina, and Kim have all done equally bad or even worse things. Felix is especially uncomfortable because he's basically a male Chloe who did all of the same actions - and often did them better - yet he doesn't have to give so much as a simple apology for what he's done. He's just good now because Kagami needs a boyfriend.

Chloe outed herself in public while emotionally compromised? So did Felix and he had weeks to plan before hand, too! Chloe did it in a totally reactive manner without any real plan.

Chloe used the miraculous that Gabriel stole? Felix stole the miraculous himself and gave them to Gabriel!

Chloe bulled Marinette? Felix bullied Adrien!

Felix even did some of the same things as Lila! He tried to ruin Adrien's friendships via manipulation and deceit in his first appearance. He knew Gabriel's secret and used it to his own advantage instead of telling the heroes. He used a major terrorist attack as an excuse to further his own goals. The list goes on! So why is he being welcomed onto the team with open arms? And why is no one telling Kagami just how dangerous her new boyfriend is? She wasn't there for most of this so she has no idea who she's dating.

And this isn't even touching the mess that was Derision's terribly delivered message about owning your actions and not blaming others for your bad behavior. That episode makes everything about Chloe's treatment look even more hypocritical.

In summary, the issue is not that teenagers can't be bad guys, they absolutely can! The issue is how all of the other bad guys and bullies are being treated compared to these two and how inconsistent the rules are. Of course, we haven't seen all of Lila's story, so who knows what the end game is for her. Maybe she'll also be trying to restore a dead wife and so she'll get a free pass, too.

[salty-autistic-writer]

A snippet, inspired by the deleted Tommy/henren scene (link to ao3):

Tommy lays down on his bed with a relieved sigh. He’s exhausted. It's been a long day of socializing and unexpected events. He’s been soaking in the spotlight for hours, now his social batteries are almost empty.

Seeing Gerrard at the ceremony was unsettling. At least he left soon. Tommy was touched by how protective Evan and Chimney reacted to his old Captain’s remarks. He was even more touched by the way they all invited him to their tables. He didn’t invite any family. To see his full name on that plate was enough to stir old long-buried yet still sharp-edged memories. Evan and the other members of the 118 distracted him from them. He's very grateful for that.

His wandering thoughts keep coming back to Hen and Karen asking him about his intentions with Evan.

Tommy replays the moment in his head a few times. Did he make a good impression? Did he say anything weird? Anything they could interpret as a threat to Evan? Did he smile enough? Or ... did he smile too much?!

His thoughts are interrupted when Evan enters the room, his hair still damp and dripping from the shower he just took, one of Tommy’s fuzzy towels wrapped around his hips. He carries the scent of Tommy’s favourite shampoo, which makes his heart flutter. He’s still a little awestruck. Still can’t quite believe this is real sometimes.

Tommy enjoys the view while Evan slips into his sleep clothes. He joins Tommy on the bed, a hearty yawn revealing that he’s clearly tired too.

Evan snuggles up to Tommy, radiating warmth, nudging against Tommy’s toes with his own and smiling at him sleepily. “Hey, you. What are you thinking about?”

“Oh, just about Hen and Karen approaching me at the ceremony today.”

Evan grins. “Did they actually give you the shovel talk? Certainly looked like it.”

Tommy smiles weakly. “Yeah, I guess they did.”

“Was it scary?” Evan asks, eyes sparkling with amused excitement.

“A bit,” Tommy admits. “I just hope I managed to convince them that my intentions with you are honourable.”

Evan chuckles. "Well, you do know it’s not that serious, right? I mean, Hen knows you. And Karen has been asking me for a double date for quite a while now.”

“She did?” Tommy asks, sincerely surprised.

Evan nods. “Yeah. Really feels like she can’t wait to get to know you better.”

“Hm.” Tommy ponders about that for a moment. He had a feeling they might not be entirely serious, but he wasn’t sure. Reading people is difficult for him sometimes. And Hen … Well, he cares about what she thinks of him. After all, she had a great impact on him. She made him a better person. He still remembers … Remembers how transfixed he was by her speech.

It was the way she stepped in front of everyone - including Gerrard - meeting their eyes without fear. The way she held her head up high. The way she said what she had to say with steel in her voice and a spark of anger lighting up her eyes.

She was right. She was brave. And Tommy felt like a coward.

He wanted to do better. All of them filing complaints against Gerrard was a good start. It felt good. Felt like opening a door he had kept locked for a long time. And once Gerrard was gone, they all spent more time together. It was nice.

Hen was the first person he came out to. She asked him about his date. About his girl. And Tommy just said: “Actually, uh, it’s a man. I’m gay.”

“Okay,” Hen said and smiled at him. “Tell me about him.”

At that moment, Tommy felt like a big weight was taken off his shoulders.

Yes. He really does care a lot about what Hen thinks of him. She knows you, Evan said. He’s right. She does. So she has to know he would never hurt Evan, right? That thought calms the brewing storm in his mind down a bit.

He gets distracted by Evan’s lips on his neck. Soft and warm. “You know,” Evan mutters, “I sure do hope that not all of your intentions are honourable.”

Tommy huffs a laugh. A wave of arousal rushes through him despite his exhaustion. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m having very dishonourable thoughts right now,” he promises in a low voice, pulling Evan into a passionate kiss.

~

The next day, Tommy gets a text from Evan:

Double date with Hen and Karen on Friday?

Tommy smiles and types: Absolutely.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Ray and Rehab

I am watching carefully for a Love Heals All plot around Sand, Ray, and Ray's alcohol dependency. But I will say, as a harm reductionist, rehab has a much lower success rate for people who unwillingly enter treatment. In order for Ray to have really any hope of maintaining a period of sobriety, he needs to be the one who makes the decision to actually take treatment seriously.

So it is really, vitally important to me, to initially be able to see Ray be emotionally impacted by the questions his therapist was asking him, deflecting, and then seeing it actually sink in a bit the next morning. It is absolutely necessary as a scene to see Ray be the one, with no one around him, with no external pressure standing in the room watching, of his own free will and volition to stop, put his glass down, and start throwing away his alcohol.

And because there are cycles of addiction, it is also very important, in my mind, to see that Ray immediately turns back to alcohol to cope with strong emotions. The second that he feels betrayed by Sand, that he turns back to alcohol.

I think there is a tenuous line to balance here, because I do think that the continuous neglect Ray experienced from his mother, the guilt he almost certainly feels around her death because he ruined her life by just existing, and the fact that his friends are compassion fatigued out with him, are decent foundations from which Ray builds a complete disregard for his life.

Which is part of what I personally think contributes to his alcoholism. So in my mind, in order for treatment to be successful, Ray needs to understand that his life has value. And I do think that it is totally fair for that realization to come through Ray having consistent support from someone.

What I do find critical in the depiction of Ray's final arc here, is that Sand is trying to get him to go to rehab, but he isn't stopping Ray from drinking. For me, this is critical for two reasons:

Again, as a harm reductionist, it is far more important to me that people with a substance dependencies are engaging in substance use as safely as possible, rather than them stopping use. Sand being with Ray where he can watch him, (potentially try to moderate), and drive Ray home is harm reduction.

Runs counter (to me), to a Love Heals All plotline, expressly because Sand takes Ray to places he can drink, (and it looks like they have beer bottles in the bathtub next week). Sand wants Ray to stop drinking but beyond giving him the resources to seek treatment, (and yes, taking Ray up on the ultimatum), he hasn't done anything else to stop Ray from drinking.

(thirdly alcohol withdrawal is super fucking dangerous, so I'm lowkey glad that Sand isn't trying to stop Ray from drinking when he's not around medical professionals. But I'm not counting that cause I doubt Sand would know this).

Like I said, there is a tenuous line to balance between Sand being Ray's savior from alcoholism, and Sand just helping Ray find enough self-motivation to attempt sobriety. And so far, I do think they have set up a couple good indicators towards the former.

[my-cowboy-hat]

Risk and Endearment

Summary: Bounty hunting with a Mandalorian is a dangerous job, but you know the risks. Don't you?

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!Reader

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: blood, injury, near-death experience, angst, PINING, hurt/comfort, fluff, cuddly Grogu my beloved

A/N: I'm not sure where this came from or why I started it, but it got me writing again for the first time in a while so I'm not complaining. I've never posted any of my own work to this blog but I think I'd like to start.

I hope you enjoy reading this, please feel free to comment your thoughts!

The explosion comes from nowhere. 

One moment, you and Din are fighting a particularly elusive bounty, quickly gaining the upper hand, and the next, debris is flying everywhere. 

You don't remember the initial impact to your abdomen, or maybe your body just didn't register it through your shock. Time slows and the sounds around you start to echo in your ears. The first thing you notice is that your hands are wet and there is a coppery taste on your tongue. The next is a sharp, pinching pain slowly growing from your stomach.

Have you been impaled by something? You wonder why your thoughts are so calm when everything else seems everything but. A quick glance down tells you, yes, you have certainly been impaled. A long, thin metal rod protrudes from your stomach and the dusty gray shirt you wore is almost fully darkened with your blood. 

When your ears slowly stop ringing, you can hear Din cursing frustration as the explosion manages to be enough of a distraction for the bounty to escape.

"Din?" You call out with a wince. He turns to you and you see his body jolt at the state you are in, "Din, I- I think we need to get back to the ship."

You think you might be in shock.

You manage to take a few steps backward with the intention of turning toward the direction you knew the ship to be in, but suddenly the world started to spin and you can't place where you are anymore. You hear Din yell your name as you begin to fall, and a pair of armored-covered arms wrap around you before you could land.

All your senses start working overtime when your brain suddenly catches up with the series of events. You can hear fire crackling around you and you whip your head around wildly in order to get a grasp on the situation. Worst of all, you can feel the excruciating, agonizing pain from your abdomen. You cry out when you feel Din place his hand on the area next to the rod to apply pressure.

"Dank ferrik!" Din grunts, "No, no, no."

"Ship," You breathe, "We have to get back to the ship."

"The ship," he repeats, and then you're being lifted in the air. You groan with the movement but manage to hook your arm around the back of Din's neck. 

"Just hang in there. We're not far." He tries to reassure you.

The trek to the ship is difficult for you to remember. The pain searing through your body only seems to increase with every step Din takes. Your eyes flicker from the story night sky to the lip of the mandalorian helmet, trying to focus on one or the other. The rest passes in a blur.

Din says your name again and suddenly you're on the ground again. Cool metal blankets your shoulders as you're laid on your back. You shake your head as another wave of pain hits you and you slap your hand against Din's armored shoulder before gripping the cloth covering his arm. 

"You're okay," Din tells you, but you don't think you believe him.

"I'm so-sorry," You whimper, a tear falling from the corner of your eye. You feel it slip down the side of your face and it tickles your ear. "Din…"

"Don't talk," his voice is gruff as he cuts your shirt free from your bloodied skin.

You start to panic and your breathing becomes ragged. So you start speaking. You say the only things that come to your mind at that moment.

"D-din I-" You let out a harsh gasp that turns into a sob, "I'm gonna die. I'm gonna- I don't wan- wanna die."

"You're not gonna die," his voice is firm, but you think you hear his own tears in his voice. "I won't let you die. Hear me?"

Faintly, you register that his gloves are off.

"Din, I- I- I- I can't- it hurts,"

"I- I know, Cyare, I know."

You don't know what he's doing. You think your stomach might be going numb. You can't really tell in all honesty, but it's a welcomed feeling, you think as your sight begins to blur.

"Take- take care of th-the baby. He-he needs you." What's happened to your voice? It sounds muffled in your ears. You feel the tears streaming down your face freely now. The pain is unlike anything you have felt before. You knew that even if the injury doesn't kill you, surely this pain will.

"He needs you too," Din's voice sounds far away now too. Why? You don't want him to go.

"An-and care… f'yours- self t-too. I love you. Th-theres a-a bag und-er my cot. Credits, and- and- extra ration pack- ah! I love you, Din. I love you. I love you."

The edges of your vision begins to darken and it takes everything in order to keep your eyes open if only to keep looking at your Mandalorian's blurry form. But this is not your Mandalorian, is it? Your Mandalorian wears a silver helmet. This one has shades of brown.

You hear him say your name when your eyelids become too heavy. He sounds so upset and urgent but you can only hum in response, the numbing feeling slowly taking over your whole body. Maybe now... Now, it might just be okay if you rest your eyes a bit.

-

When you wake, it's to a small hand tapping on your cheek.

You let out a small grunt when you attempt to peel open your eyes. 

You hear a small, concerned coo from where something sits heavy on your chest and there's another tap on your cheek. When you finally manage to open your eyes, your vision is in hues of blue, and small black dots dance as they take in the wooden ceiling above. 

You hear another coo and you dip your chin to see your small, green child looking at you with his big dark eyes. When he sees your eyes, his ears perk up exponentially and he collapses forward with a soft squeal. His small hands hold your neck and he nuzzles his head against your chin.

You lift a heavy hand to his back gently and whisper, "Hello darling."

You can't remember much, but flashes of the explosion play like a distant nightmare in your head, along with a fear of death you didn't know you had. You remember the pain in your abdomen and the sound of a distraught mandalorian.

You were alive. You survived when you were certain you wouldn't see another day. When you were so sure you would never see Grogu or Din again.

Din.

"Darling?" You whisper, tears stinging your eyes, "Where's your father?"

You're only given another small coo in response, the baby refusing to remove himself from his hug.

With the hand not holding Grogu, you trace down the edge of your ribs and softly over your stomach. Your body jerks in the anticipation of pain rather than the pain itself and you let out a soft whimper. You take in your surroundings as a distraction and find yourself in a small room of a wooden hut. A light breeze slips through an open window on one side where a dresser stands under the seal. There's a chair to your left with a pillow and a thin blanket thrown over it.

The room seems barren otherwise, minus the bed you were occupying.

You wonder what planet you were on. How long have you been asleep? 

Your head pounds in the way it does when you wake up after sleeping for too long, or when you take a nap that just wasn’t long enough. It did not help your confusion. 

"Dank Ferrik!" You hear a curse coming from another room and Grogu quickly sits up again on your chest, ears drooping at the sound.

The door to your room is opened and your Mandalorian steps through, "Grogu, what did I tell you? We need to let her sleep. She'll wake up when she-"

He stops when your eyes flicker up to meet the T of his helmet. 

"G'morning," You greeted softly.

Din breathes your name in a way you've never heard before. Like a prayer. "You're awake."

"Where are we?" You question. He steps forward hesitantly and you watch his gaze travel over your form, landing on your stomach.

Grogu gently slips off your chest to lay at your side.

"We- we're on a planet called Sorgon. I- it was the closest one I could think of with people I trust."

"How long…?"

"Almost a week. The medic here gave you some medicine to keep you asleep for a bit longer so your body could heal easier."

You nod and try to blink away the tears threatening to fall. You never thought you'd see him again. Hear his voice.

When you sniff, that seems to snap Din to attention. He makes a move to grab the kid but you shake your head vehemently, "No, no please let him stay. I thought I'd never- I wouldn't-"

Din pauses, "I know, cyare."

Cyare. You have a faint memory of that word being said but you don't know what it means. 

"You…" He clears his throat, "You almost didn't make it."

You reach out to him with your hand and he takes it instantly. His shoulders were stiff and the edge of his helmet kept dipping forward in an almost jerky sort of nod. He takes a knee next to your bed.

"You saved me."

"Your heart stopped."

"It's okay," You tug his gloved hand over your chest, above your sternum, where he could feel your heart beating soundly. "You made it start again. Thank you, Din."

He doesn’t respond, at least, not with words. He only squeezes your hand a bit tighter and lets out a shaky breath that crackles against the modulator of his helmet. 

By your side, Grogu snuggles into the crook of your shoulder, eyes drooping.

"He hasn't slept well," Din informs you, "I… He wanted to heal you himself, but I-" he cuts himself off and looks away.

He had stopped Grogu from healing you. Good.

"It would've killed him," You say softly, "I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself, or you, for that matter."

Din only nods and his gaze falls to your hands, still laying on your chest. Your fingers graze down the side of his glove until you reach the exposed skin of his wrist, absent-mindedly swiping a thumb along the bumps of his veins and the small scar that you discover on the side, just below the joint of his thumb.

You realize, even after all this time with the Mandalorian, you've never touched his skin. You've seen him without his gloves, of course, and even occasionally a peak of his lower neck when he was bare of any armor. Now, however, you feel him for the first time, Din. His wrist is smooth under your touch, maybe a bit smoother than you'd imagine. Perhaps wearing so much gear does wonders for skin care. You smile softly at the thought.

When you see how rigid Din’s posture has gotten, you give him an apologetic smile and begin to pull away when he suddenly grips your hand firmer in his. Your breath catches in your throat when he brings it up to his helmet where his lips lay just beyond. 

And suddenly, Din is speaking again. Just one word this time, barely above a whisper, "Mesh'la."

You don't know what it means, but he says it with such sincerity and softness that your face warms under his covered gaze.

"You should rest," He continues, lowing your hand but not letting it go.

"I've rested long enough for the next month, Din."

"Are you hungry?" 

You nod and he makes a move to stand but you tug his hand, "Wait…"

He pauses at an awkward half-kneel next to your bed and tilts his head in question.

"Just…stay? Just for a little while longer?"

"You should eat, Cyare."

Cyare. He's called you that before. You hear the echo of his voice frantic, and breaking while you laid dying on the hull of his ship. You think it may be a term of endearment, just from the way it falls so kindly from his lips. It makes you hope he loves you in the same way you love him.

You'll learn what it means one day. You'll learn the words he calls you with such reverence. You'll learn the whole language for him, you decided. Maybe you'll learn the words that could express what he means to you in ways the common tongue could not. 

"I will," You promise. He doesn't know it's a promise for something else but that's okay. "Just sit with me a little longer. Please?"

Din stares at you for a moment. You wish you knew what he was thinking. Finally, he nods, "Always."

Thank you for reading!

[vaguely-concerned]

Happy Grace/Pan Vibes For The Soul

"How can I, with you in the way?"/"(Laughs) The floor is yours!"

First of all I'm honestly just so charmed by how genuinely delighted Pan seems to be at watching Grace finding her voice and learning to enjoy using her power, I think that's where I started to take a shine to him. (also seems quite central to his character/romance in general because it's a thing that recurs through their relationship -- he tells her "I'm enjoying it if you're enjoying it" straight out at one point and that's definitely always there in the subtext). He buys a music studio for her just in case she ever wants to return to making music again even when she's not the muse anymore just because he loves her singing and has seen it make her happy before, how is that not the sweetest goddamn thing in the world??? Pan and Oracle in shared first place as stans for Grace musically

For real though, 'I Can Teach You' is sooo... even when you don't join forces with him Pan teaches Grace so many things in that song, it's a thematic tutorial as well as a gameplay one in many ways. For me I think the most impactful subtexts are 'This is a tricky situation, change is here and it's difficult, but you have more control and agency here than you think' ("You're in control!" "It's your song!"), and this sense that, y'know... there can be joy and playfulness and discovery in setting out into the unknown, not just fear and uncertainty.

dude... I wanna be in cahoots with & sing playful duets with you for the rest of my life bro (amorous intent)

Pros: Hell yeah look at her go! 🥰

Cons: Uh-oh look at her go! 😬

I love that Grace can bring Pan's motif into 'Challenging A Queen' and be called the fuck out by Persephone btw. why u keepin' your guard up girl uwu

'you gave up the only thing worth having -- for your little mortal friend' he says, giving up everything for his little once-again-mortal friend literally the next day fhsdkjfhsad who are you fooling buddy? not even yourself at this point surely??? (dialogue for if you save Freddie by giving up the eidolon)

my observations on the grace/pan dynamic across the different personality traits (yes I've done a run of each romancing him I am normal about it):

Clever!Grace: Pan seems to set out to be a trickster mentor of sorts, and Clever!Grace flips the uno reverse card on him and goes ‘Not if I trickster mentor you first bitch be honest about your feelings or perish challenge engage’. Probably the most birds of a feather combination (and indeed it’s the Blue version of the soundtrack that shows off his romance — also his tie and glasses are on the cover for that one :) ). 

Charming!Grace: Performative puppy dog eyes-off whenever either of them wants to get their way. 🥺4🥺. Pan is provably a soft touch from the Charming option to find Persephone before Challenging A Queen so I feel he probably tends to buckle faster but it’s a close thing. Local trickster god completely disarmed by someone being nice to him.

Kickass!Grace: “Be real with me or Imma kick your ass”/”Promise? ;)”/"...>:)"

I am always thinking about the way he steps up in The Trial when romanced (and the way it's the only one where Athena is genuinely shocked and appalled fhskadj). there is something about him that's like... he keeps protesting against 'innocent' and he's probably right haha, but there is certainly an almost fundamental lack of any active malice there that he doesn't fully admit to himself or to grace until this moment. he is doing this for grace, but it is also a confession about something really deep in himself that seems to be very vulnerable for him in its sincerity -- that he really doesn't mean to or more importantly want to cause harm (I don't wanna dance/with blood on my hands). admitting to his own basically good heart finally seems to be the bigger, scarier thing for him, more than facing the prospect of dying. he's experiencing the mortifying ordeal of being known and I for one am so proud of him

"I'm just here for the dance"

the way he sings that just to her and completely changes the meaning of it from what he said with it before, from using it to keep her out to inviting her in...

also can you imagine how badly the kill bill sirens must be going off in Grace's head in all variations of this scene no matter who steps up, considering what happened to Freddie just days before....... oof!

*incensed whisper* are you fucking kidding me with this what am I supposed to do with myself here

love these too

I really like the visual repeats of crossing the pond to the tree and back as a metaphor for them getting closer (or rather, him letting her closer, it is very much His Space). he retreats back there towards the end of 'Share This Dance', and that's the point where Grace puts her foot down and essentially says 'no. you come meet me honestly in the middle this time or this isn't happening'. and in 'The Trial' he does and then some!

I meant what I sang. I'm not a good man. If Athena had taken me up on my offer, the Idols would have been better off But I can try to be better. You make me want to try.

fun fact: if you break up with him after The Trial (YEAH you can still break off the romances at that point! it's wild honestly fsjadk), Grace tells him he should try to be better ‘for himself’ not for her... and he calls that (i.e. himself) ‘not much of an incentive’. My guy don’t make me break out the ‘Have you tried therapy’ prompt again. He takes it very calmly and gracefully under the circumstances but he's also like. quietly resigned and subdued. I tried it once for Science and never will again but there you go I bring my knowledge to this altar of sadness lol

you see the thing is I would forgive him for just about anything too I understand why so many of the characters in-game can't stay mad at him for any length of time

he starts the game by asking her to take his hand and he ends it on asking her to take his hand (and she does)...

:') let's share this dance

[daydream-cement]

User Error (NSFW)

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

Reader and Miranda are on a stake out and they get a little distracted.

Authors Note: Thank you to the gc as always. I luv ya <3

Five hours. You had been in the car for five hours with Constable Hilmarson and nothing seemed to be going as planned. The supposed drug dealer you had been sent to watch should have been here by now, but Adrian told you not to come back to the station until you had something. Now you were stuck here in a stuffy car with nothing to do but talk and snack on the junk food Miranda packed away for you both. 

Currently, you were splitting a bag of chips and sharing the woes of your failed love lives when Miranda altered the subject, “I never understood the big deal about cunnilingus.”

Her statement caught you off guard, but the controversial nature of her words made you probe deeper, “What do you mean? How do you not like cunnilingus?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, but I don’t get why it’s such a big deal.” Miranda tilted the bag of chips towards you as she spoke, her right hand continued gesturing. From the quickened pace of her words and defensive tone, you could tell she was a bit self-conscious of her opinion, “It doesn’t feel that great.”

You maintain your composure, turning your head to look at her, “User error.” 

“Wha-” Miranda’s jaw dropped, knowing you had insinuated her past partners were incompetent. From your discussion over the past half hour, it seems as though Miranda had only been entertaining men as love interests. You were drawing your own conclusions of how this impacted her perceptions of cunnilingus. 

You attempted to make your voice as merciful as possible, not wanting to make her feel attacked, “I don’t know who you have been with, but they certainly aren’t doing it correctly if you don’t think it’s a big deal.” 

“I’m assuming you know how to do it correctly then?” Miranda may not have expected her words to be so sexually charged. You always did find her to be attractive and you assumed she would be someone interested in the fairer sex. 

You shrug modestly, “I’ve been praised for my work.”

“Mhmm...” Miranda only hummed in response. You knew she didn’t believe you. She turned back to her food, glancing up every few seconds to watch the backdoor of the warehouse you were supposed to be watching. You weren’t satisfied where that conversation had ended. You had a reputation to uphold. 

“God, I haven't given head in forever…” You toss your head back into the headrest overdramatically, hoping to bring her attention back to you. 

Your forwardness caused Miranda to choke on her mouthful of chips. She coughed wildly, her words came out strangled, "What do you mean?" 

“I mean that I have this godly tongue... and have no one to use it on.” With each word, your body shifts towards Miranda, hoping to make your intentions clear. Miranda couldn’t always catch a hint, so you knew you may have to be extremely direct with her. “Such a crime against humanity. Don’t you agree, constable?" 

Miranda’s eyes widened and she looked about the car, almost as if she was searching for her answer. She looked back to you, her mouth gaping for a moment before she responded, “Yes. I agree"

Your eyes were locked and you licked your lips, hoping desperately she would say yes to your next question, “Would you like me to demonstrate my skills for you?”

“I- Uhm... yeah. Yes.”

“Perhaps we should move to the backseat?” You ask, a wide smile growing on your face.  Miranda moved clumsily into the backseat, not attempting to hide her enthusiasm. Miranda’s nerves were getting the best of her. Her hands shook and she fumbled with the button on her pants, wanting them off her as soon as possible. You paused as you made your own way into the backseat, “Miranda... I can do that.”

Miranda paused what she was doing, staring down at her navel in shame. You continue speaking, crawling into the backseat directly into her lap. This proximity was new for the both of you and Miranda wasn’t exactly sure of what to do. You took charge of the situation, taking Miranda’s hands and placing them on your hips, “Can I kiss you?”

Miranda nodded frantically and you pushed your lips to hers, not interested in wasting any more time. If another on duty constable were to see you, neither of you would hear the end of it. If you missed the accused drug dealer, then Adrian would have your head. 

You could have spent more time kissing, but you had a job to do. You trail your lips down her jaw line to her neck. Your hands were making quick work of her belt followed by her pant button and the zipper. You scrape your teeth against the flesh of her neck, drawing a whimper from Miranda, “Please...”

“Take your pants off for me, honey.” With a final nip to her neck, you pull yourself away from her and give her the space for her to push her pants down her legs. Not often did you see Miranda’s bare legs, but dear god, they were incredible. From the moment Miranda was left in her underwear, you lifted her ankle to your shoulder. Kiss by kiss, you made your way down her bare leg, slowly lowering yourself to her panty clad sex. 

From her labored breathing, you could tell Miranda was aching with anticipation. Miranda braced herself with one hand against the back windshield and the other against the headrest of the driver’s side seat. You lowered yourself to her panties, rubbing your fingers over the damp fabric, “Hmm, is this all for me?”

“Mhmm...” Miranda rested her head on the car window. The anticipation was absolutely killing her. 

You swept her panties to the side, exposing herself to you, “Oh... look at this pretty little pussy...”

Miranda moaned at your words. You had yet to even touch her and she was already putty in your hands. This alone was enough for you to know that her not enjoying cunnilingus was certainly a user error. You couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face. From your place between her legs you glance up, Miranda was watching you intently, her eyes begging you to give you what you had been bragging about.

You moved your focus back to her aching cunt. You were determined to prove your abilities to Miranda. Thrusting your tongue into her, you begin lapping at her feverishly, drawing the loudest of moans from her. Miranda was uninhibited in many facets of her life and you were happy this was one of them. 

She was extremely vocal with you, writhing and grasping at your hands that came up to grip her thighs. You always did appreciate feedback when you performed oral on another woman. Your swirling tongue made its way higher, stopping when you reached her clit. Unable to resist yourself, your eyes watched Miranda with deep intent wanting to see her reaction when you licked your tongue across the sensitive bud. When you proceed to stroke your tongue over her clit, her hands grasp at your scalp, winding their way into your hair. 

“God... yes, Y/n... I’m so close...” Her hips moved against your skilled tongue and her hands kept your face close. The slickness of her heat coated your chin. You were in paradise. 

User error. That’s all that it was. 

You began spelling your name on her clit, making each movement slow and deliberate. The bucking of Miranda’s hips became more unpredictable and desperate. You pull away only for a moment, appeasing her obvious praise kink, “Be a good girl and cum for me...”

You don’t offer Miranda enough time to respond before you begin your tongue movements once again. Her ragged breathing and thrashing hips gave away her impending orgasm.  You draw your tongue in rapid circles around the bud, noticing earlier this drew the most desperate moans from fer. 

When she came, her hands held you against her pussy as her thighs squeezed around your head. Your tongue lapped at her juices, not wanting to waste anything she has to offer you. Miranda’s hips continued to grind against your face as she rode the orgasm to completion. You adored the way her legs shook as she parted them, releasing you from their vice grip. Her voice was a hoarse whisper, “So-So you are good at that...” 

“It’s what I’ve been told.” You press a kiss to her inner thigh, drawing yourself to sit on your knees. 

“Can you teach me how?” Miranda glanced down to your hips, her hands moving to begin to undo the buttons of her light blue button-up shirt. 

“I’m sure I can teach you a thing or two...”

-----

“What do you mean you didn’t see anything?” Adrian was furious with the two of you. He pulled his hand to his face, massaging the bridge of his nose. 

"Listen, no one came out of the warehouse. I don't know what to tell you.” Miranda shrugged, not looking at her superior. Instead, she stared off out the window of his office, feigning disinterest. 

“No, no... Someone came...” You swatted Miranda’s arm, an innocent smile plastered to your face. She looked back at you in utter shock that you could admit such a thing in front of your boss. Quickly, you saved yourselves from your own little joke, “But she wasn’t the person we were looking for.”

[ride-thedragon]

MAKING A CASE FOR GREGORY TO BE EVERYONE'S FAVOURITE BRIDGERTON.

(Jk, this is just an excuse, like who you want)

Is he my favourite?

Yes.

Why?

Well......

1. He wants love.

From the start of the book, we are made aware that he has nothing going on and genuinely wants to find love like his siblings.

2. Friends over food.

The way he meets Lucy is him falling in love with Hermonie Watson(👀) and asking Lucy to dance. She pities him enough to carry him to eat because he showed up late and had to go mingle. Basically, they become acquaintances and friends once they decide to set up Gregory with Hermonie.

3. Bro is in love with Kate.

One of the funnier themes in the book is that he goes from saying something he loves about Kate and then compares it to something Lucy does.

4. Alcohol.

He keeps stealing and drinking Anthony's alcohol.

5. Fist fights.

He fights Lucy's brother, Richard, after compromising Hermonie (deserved, earned).

6. The first time they kiss.

I kid you not, I was in shock, tears almost and the energy after this moment never changes. Like genuinely at any point they would've been wed to each other had one person saw them but what makes if crazier is that the only reason it stopped was because Lucy was engaged and she remembered before it escalated

7. Making it everyone's problem.

After he realises he loves her, he makes it everyone's problem. From comparing her to Francesca to embarrassing Violet publicly , even roping Hyacinth in on hijinks, his story is a family event.

8. The Second time they kiss.

Hyacinth is in the other room, they are in Daphne's home and he has orchestrated a plan to propose to her in a closet.

9. They sleep with each other.

To the TSPWL and WHWW girls, step aside for a moment. Gregory breaks into his unofficial fiancé's home in the dead of night, goes to her room, and is eventually seduced by her. They proceed to sleep together, THE DAY BEFORE HER WEDDING TO ANOTHER MAN. They do so three times holding each other, then sleeping together and so on. She's doing it under false pretences because she isn't going to marry him atp.

10. A love like Violet and Edmund's.

They break the Bridgerton record for most kids. At the time of the epilogue, they have 7 kids and are expecting the 8th, they have twins and end up with 9. It's to the point where the pregnancy impacts Lucy and Gregory let's us know that the amount of kids they have is genuinely due to their lack of restraint.

11. They name their kids after their siblings.

Lucy actually gets to name one after her best friend, but there is a little Daphne and Anthony running around. Also a Kate.

12. Guns.

There is a gun stand off.

13. Kidnapping.

Gregory breaks the law, again.

14. Gay.

Lucy is pinning over Hermione during the first half, her fiance is gay, the uncle never marries......

15. 9 CHILDREN.

I don't want to understate the fact that they have 9 kids in less than 20 years. It was never that serious. She is 33 when they have their last kid. He's 39. They met at 18 and 24 respectively. 9 kids in 15 years.

16. LUCY MY LOVE

Me 🫂 Gregory.

She's darling. Throughout the narrative, it's just her making sacrifices for everyone she loves. For her brother, her best friend, even Gregory, it's consistantly her trying.

17. Blue Mushroom.

Please read the book because Drunk Greg>>>

18. Last one.

My baby boy is a horrible shot.

Let me end it on a mood board for my faves.

We do be on the way to a wedding. It certainly was a journey

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 18: I LOVE YOU

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Fluff, Smut

“Cillian…” you began to say without saying anything else, seeing that his revelation was not something you had expected so soon. As such, you were speechless and, if the room was any more silent in this moment, you would have been able to hear your racing hearts echo through it.

“You don’t have to say it back” Cillian then said after taking a deep breath. He knew that he was moving too fast and he certainly regretted admitting his feelings to you now.

“But I feel the same way about you” you told him quickly nonetheless before smiling at Cillian and caressing his cheeks. Speaking these words took some courage, but you felt good about admitting how you felt, even though Cillian did not appear to believe you.

“You do?” he thus asked, hoping that you did not just say this in order to make him feel better.

“Yes. In fact, I have been feeling like this for a while, ever since that first night we shared. I know it sounds cheesy but it is the truth. I was hoping that you wanted to see me again when I left” you then admitted and Cillian recalled that, on the morning after, you asked him about whether he wanted to catch up with you again some time soon, which was an offer he declined due the fact that he wanted to remain single for a while.

“Well, I suppose it is fate then?” Cillian chuckled nonetheless, having been glad about how things had turned out, even though there were so many issues to be considered now that your relationship had become more serious.

“I should resign” Cillian thus suggested, feeling as though that this would be the most appropriate action for him to take, although you disagreed.

“No, you should not” you told him firmly, causing him to furrow his eyebrows.

“I actually want to be with you Y/N but I can’t be with you if I am your teacher” Cillian pointed out. He clearly wanted a relationship with you and even though this was what you wanted as well, you did not want him to take this drastic step just yet.

“No Cillian. There is too much hinging on this and, to tell you the truth, it will make absolutely no difference if you resign or not. I will be tarred and feathered in class if it becomes known that we are involved with each other. So, let’s just wait it out, huh?” you explained and Cillian knew that you were right. He needed to keep this relationship with you under wraps for now, at least until you had graduated.

“You are right” Cillian thus said, causing you to chuckle.

“I am always right” you teased before asking him whether he wanted to have sex again, this time in the shower.

“So period sex isn’t so bad after all?” Cillian joked before helping you out of the bathtub and playfully pushing you into the shower

The next two weeks

Over the next two weeks, which were leading up to your birthday, you and Cillian spent almost every night together while, during the days, you saw each other at theatre school and pretended that nothing ever happened between you.

In addition, you were teaching Cillian’s daughter twice per week, getting her ready for her eisteddfod and at least once, in the past two weeks, it was Cillian who accompanied her to the classes, making things a little awkward for you, him and Dermont as well.

On one occasion, you even met Cillian’s mother who took Nina dancing and, just as you had expected, she was as lovely and kind as Nina had described her.

Cillian’s mother, of course, had no idea about her son’s involvement with you, or at least so you thought, but for some reason she was made an effort in getting to know you before and after class.

On numerous occasions, she praised you for the impact you had on Nina���s life, making her enjoy the dancing again and this, in itself, made you proud.

Cillian, too, loved the fact that his daughter looked up at you and adored you. She wanted to be just like you and, even when she stayed over once per week as per the court’s interim visitation orders, most conversations Nina had with her father turned out to be about dancing and watching you perform.

***

By this point, your best friend Emma was well aware of your somewhat secret relationship with Cillian and, whilst you trusted her with your secret, she reminded you continuously that, one day, you had to tell him about the lie you told him on the night you first met.

You weren’t turning 30, which is what Cillian still believed. You were turning 23 and you knew that an age gap that large could be the end of Cillian’s love for you.

Emma though seemed to think that, if you gave it some more time, he probably wouldn’t care so much about your age but with every day that passed, you started to feel more and more guilty about it.

Another problem now was that Cillian suggested to have a few drinks at a local bar for your birthday which, to you, sounded like a terrible idea.

Of course, Emma wouldn’t tell on you and you didn’t have any other friends to invite after Lorraine and James had turned most people at school against you. Thus, in order not to make too awkward, Cillian was going to invite Dermont and his wife as well, which would also solve the issue of being at the same place at the same time on your own and without friends.

It would be seen as a coincidence of having a few friendly drinks together just before your impending semester break and, in the end, given the informality of the location, you agreed to Cillian’s suggestion.

You wanted to get to know Dermont and his wife some more, being Cillian’s best friends and you most certainly did not want to exclude either, Cillian or Emma, from your birthday celebrations.

Before your actual birthday though, you wanted Cillian all to yourself and, being the romantic man he was, he booked two nights away, in a self-contained cottage by the sea.

Thus, you packed some clothes, including your hiking boots which was what Cillian had suggested and made your way to his apartment again late Friday afternoon. He had already packed the car and was ready to leave but still would not tell you where you were headed until, two hours later, you pulled up in front of the smallest and most traditional Irish house you had ever seen.  

There was some greenery, four stone fences, a red gate and about twenty sheep, with nothing else for miles. Not a single house or pub was to be seen.

“Where even are we?” you asked as your chin dropped and you took in the most amazing scenery you have ever seen.

“I used to visit this place a lot when I was younger to go hiking with my parents. It’s quite stormy here, but also incredibly beautiful” Cillian explained while you gave one of the friendly sheep a quick pet which was something that amused him.

“It’s stunning” you said, smiling widely.

“What? The sheep?” Cillian joked, causing you to roll your eyes. You adored his silliness but couldn’t help but pull him up on it sometimes.

“No, not the sheep Cillian! This whole place!” you explained before asking him why he took you here for the weekend, right before your birthday.

“Because you said that you haven’t really seen much of Ireland yet, so here we are, in the most Irish place in Ireland” Cillian chuckled with his sweet laugh of his and, just as he spoke, you fell into his arms and kissed him.

“Thank you. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me” you then admitted after your lips drifted apart, causing Cillian to smile.

“Well, that’s not my actual present, but you are welcome” he said before showing you inside.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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[back2bluesidex]

Taste of a Poison - KSJ (18+)

Pairing: Boyfriend!Seokjin X Fem!Reader (ft. Ex-boyfriend Jimin)

Theme: Angst, Drama,

Summary: Relationship with Seokjin is as toxic as it is addictive.

Word count: 2.2K

Warnings: Unhealthy relationship, mentions of cheating, attempts of cheating, Jin is toxic, reader ain't anything better, argument, petty behavior, reader is stubborn, Jimin is an angel.

MINORS ARE NOT ALLOWED IN THIS BLOG!!

A/N: This story is based on this request by @chimmisbae. It was getting longer and I don't usually write more than 2k for a story, so I made it a two shot. The next part will contain BDSM themed smut and I have not tasted that water yet, so, all the best to me. Till then.. enjoy this.

You stare at your open palms blankly. Your hands are as dry as your life lately.  

Not knowing what exactly you are trying to find there, you close your eyelids focusing on the stinging session that only tears can bring. 

You are in desperate need of soaking your tears away. 

“You can’t cry. You won’t cry. You don’t need to waste any more tears on Seokjin. You have had enough.” These are the words that you chant within yourself. 

Your eyes open on their own and divert themselves at the sky as if to look for an answer. An answer to justify why you are stuck in this miserable state. 

“Don’t I deserve to be happy?” you ask yourself and something within you replies saying, “Yes, you do. But first you will have to leave him.” 

You turn around to take a look at the exit of the bar. 

There is a guy trying to carry the weight of his drunk friend, a couple of girls who probably got kicked out for not having valid age proof, and a lonesome man trying to call someone. But there is no sign of him… your boyfriend Seokjin. 

It’s been more than fifteen minutes since you left your seat and walked out but he hasn’t even noticed your absence. That’s what you are worth to him, that is what you mean, which translates to nothing but an unimportant presence. 

How much time has it been again? 1 year and eight months? Yes. 

It's been almost two years and you still don’t understand Seokjin, neither does he have a Ph.D degree in understanding you. And as a result, you have seen more downs than ups within your relationship span. 

Things always go wrong one way or another. Mostly because - 

1. Seokjin is way too busy for you. Owning and running one of the most successful law firms of South Korea certainly makes you a busybody. However, that does not mean you can’t spare an hour for the person you apparently love. 

2. Seokjin is dangerously possessive. A man within 20 meters of radius of you and he will be losing his shit. If he could, he would lock you up in a showcase only for him to see. 

3. You don’t trust him enough. You are well aware of the womanizer reputation he had before starting to date you. And no matter how many times has he claimed that he has changed, you just can’t bring yourself to trust him.

4. You are way too stubborn for your own good. You only do what you feel like doing. You listen to none, you don’t consider suggestions and most of the time you don’t accept what Seokjin has to propose, which ticks him off very badly. If he tells you to go right, you will go left. Hence, your relationship is a mess. 

All in all, you and Seokjin are not meant for each other. 

Tonight is just another confirmation of the above statement. 

He has been ditching you for work for the past few weeks. You said nothing knowing that everything will end up you two having another unending fight and then you will somehow get pinned to his mattress while he fucks you senseless. 

You did not want to repeat this vicious cycle, so you settled for giving him a cold shoulder instead. This new tactic of yours had an impressive impact on your boyfriend as he promised you a date in exchange for your normal behavior. 

You almost accepted your victory. But it seems like you are not as lucky as you thought because as soon as you two got seated in a booth, he miraculously found two of his clients and offered them to join you two. 

And those clients being more important than you, your so-called boyfriend didn’t even pay you mind when you left the booth and walked out of the bar. 

This is unacceptable, especially because this occurrence is nothing new. You have been facing the same and similar shit again and again. But tonight, you are going to take a step. You are going to take a step away from Seokjin and this toxic hell of a relationship. 

So you do the next best thing. Pulling your phone out from your purse, you call that one person you know will go again every odd to be with you. You dial Jimin’s number and he receives it readily after the third ring. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Jimin’s voice bounces through the other side of your phone. He is always so cheerful to you that it hurts. 

“Jimin… can you pick me up please? I am standing at the exit of Blue Night” Your voice comes out firmer than you expected, “I mean only if you are not busy.” 

“Will be there in ten.” he cuts the call. 

You punch the keycode for entering your apartment as soon as possible. If Jimin notices that the code is still a combination of your and his birth dates then he doesn’t say anything. He has not said a word during your entire way back home, maybe he had understood that you are in no mood of being pursued for a conversation. 

“Um.. I’ll leave. Good night Y/N” Jimin says as you enter your apartment holding the door open. 

“No- I mean..” You pause, deciding on whether you should ask him to stay or not, “Can you.. uh.. Would you like to stay the night? If you don’t have anything to do- anyone waiting on you?” you place the last part of the sentence very cautiously. 

“I would love to stay, Y/N. but-” he closes his eyes, “what about Jin?” 

“I don’t care. Not anymore.” Your voice trembles. 

You break down in a loud sob as soon as Jimin shuts the door behind him. He wastes no time and wraps you into his warm embrace. You feel as if you just hit home.

“You know… he doesn’t deserve you.” Jimin mumbles, his lips brushing on your temple. 

“Just like I never deserved you. You were way too good for me. You still are. And look at me, I broke your heart only for you to hold me down when my so-called boyfriend ditches me for his precious clients.” You hide your face in his chest. Saying that you feel guilty of breaking Jimin’s heart upon realizing that best-friend-to-lover trope doesn’t work for you, will be an understatement. But you had no other choice, or that is what you tell yourself, since you could not see him expecting things from you and getting disappointed again and again. You are not a giver after all. 

“Just so you know Y/N, I never stopped loving you.” Jimin whispers in your ear, stroking your head gently. 

“I know. And that’s so stupid of you.” You reply, staring up into his eyes. 

His soft blonde hair makes him look like the angel he is and you feel like your rationalities are drowning in those beautiful brown eyes. You somehow start to reach up as he leans down. 

Just when two pairs of lips are about to touch, you hear the keyword being punched in your apartment entrance and the door opening with a beep. And the only person to know your house code except for you and Jimin is none other than Kim Seokjin. 

Jimin stops stroking your head as he sits up somewhat straight and stares at the door. However, you keep your face buried in his chest. A part of your brain is telling you to push yourself off of Jimin but another wicked and darker part of the brain tells you to stay put, rile seokjin up and push each of his buttons. You listen to the darker part. 

“Woah! I definitely did not expect to discover such a sight.” Seokjin regards the sight in front of him as the words fall from his mouth humorlessly. 

You detach your body from Jimin’s and sit straight, ready to fight him back, “You should not expect anything else after leaving me to die during one of our meaningless dates.” 

“Oh? Leave you to die? Have you even checked your phone or are you too busy to fuck around with your ex-boyfriend?” He grits, anger taking over his otherwise indifferent expression faster than light. 

“Only if you treated her better would you have a reason to complain.” Jimin interjects, now standing straight as if to protect you from Seokjin. 

“I am not talking to you, Park. Stay out of this. No wait- get out of the house or otherwise I will have to throw you out.” Seokjin growls. 

Jimin balls his fists ready to fight seokjin but that’s the last thing you want now. You know Jin. You know if he says he will throw Jimin out then he will actually throw him out, thanks to his immaculate military achievement during his enlistment span. You have already broken Jimin’s heart. Now you don’t want to be the reason for his broken ribs as well. So, you intervene.

“Jimin. I am sorry but can you please-” 

“You are doing this again Y/n” Jimin is visibly upset. His eyes reflect his heart, which is filled with pain and again you are the reason.

“This is the last time Jimin. I promise.” you manage to say. Jimin nearly stomps off and shuts the door loudly enough to signify his bitter mood. 

You sigh and then diver your eyes to your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend,

“What do you want?” you seethe through your teeth. 

“What was he doing here, Y/N?” Jin takes a step towards you but you stay where you are. 

“Someone had to bring me home since you got busy with your clients.” 

“He only brought you home?” 

“Why? Do you think I am like you? Fucking behind your back?”

Jin scoffs. He is now dangerously close to your body. His tall and broad form easily swallows your smaller one.

“You think I am fucking behind your back? After all these times?” Jin’s voice has reached a few octaves lower than usual but his tone is calmer than what it was seconds ago. 

“Your reputation doesn’t suggest otherwise. Especially when you don’t even spare a single evening for me.” Your voice is firm, steady and serious. You are not afraid of confronting him, especially when it’s the last time. 

“We have talked about this, Y/n” Jin’s voice is still calm, which contrasts the raging fire that you perceive inside his eyes. 

“Yes. we have but nothing changed. So-” you pause, gulping once to provide a touch of moisture to your dry throat, “I don’t think I can do this anymore. Let’s end this right now, right here.” 

“What?” Jin’s tough exterior finally breaks. His face falls, eyes widens, jaw loosens. 

“You heard me.” you reply nonchalantly, causing him to break into a round of a dry chuckle. 

“You really think you can live without me? After all these times?” Jin closes the remaining distance and this time, you take a step backward. You will be lying if you say the thought doesn’t make you weak. But you know he is trying to manipulate you into thinking you are nothing without him, which is most definitely not the truth. 

“I will be doing fine. As fine as I was doing before you walked into my life, Jin.” you reply firmly and you believe your words wholeheartedly.  

“I see? Does that mean… you will go back to that guy, won't you?” 

“That’s my private matter. What I do after breaking up with you should not be your concern. And what if I go back to him? He has always been a better lover anyway.” you spat at his face, reminding him the fact that Jimin is indeed better when it comes to loving you. 

“Oh really? But can he fuck you like I do? As much as I can remember, sex is one of the primary reasons why you left him?” Seokjin smirks, you gulp. 

Well, yeah. He is right. Sex is certainly one of the main reasons. 

With Jimin everything was so soft and vanilla. He used to hold your hands while thrusting into you, which is very sweet and lovely but not what you wanted. 

You are a kinky woman with a keen interest in submitting yourself to a master and that is exactly what drove you to Jin. Sex was rough and animalistic with him, he is also the best dom you have ever had. So even if you didn’t stay for love, you certainly stayed for sex. 

“What happened, princess? Why aren’t you replying?” Seokjin’s hand flies around your waist to pull you flush against him.

Once you are in his orbit, you lose your composure a bit. You grit your teeth, trying to breathe out a lie through them. You wanna tell him that yes jimin can fuck you like he does, but you can’t. You can’t lie about something you enjoy the most about this relationship with Jin. And you quietly decide to enjoy it for one last time before you leave him completely. 

“I am not replying because I forgot how you felt.” you scoff, wiggling in his strong hold, “you are way too busy to fuck me these days.” 

“Then let me remind you how good I can make you feel, princess.” Seokjin smirks as his hand finds its way to your ass.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonviblog @nochuel

[monpalace]

Twi talking about his reader with Time and time putting together that his friend settled down and had kids and such. Upon first meeting Twi’s s/o he isn’t sure because she’s so nice and welcoming not like the woman who he knew that fought her way into her position until Twi says something absurd which leads to her ranting and eventually yanking at Twi’s ear challenging him that Time is like “ah yes this is definitely a descendent of hers” has been heavy on my mind lately.

time and twi being related is so integral to my sanity its insane.

time seeing pieces of the future, his impact, the impact of those around him, and his response to it all is also just as important.

(imagining a one-on-one grandfather-grandson time-traveling trip together because what are the rest of the chain gonna be doing except for looking like���🏼)

"Why don't you tell me about your version of her? It's only fair since I've given you my share."

Time isn't sure how they started talking of you, but he's glad to hear you made something of yourself a few centuries down the line, even if he wasn't hearing it from your words as he would've liked.

There's an unsure look on Twilight's face before he quips back with "d'ya want the good ones, or the bad ones?" Uncertainty quickly turns into adoration. "Dream girl ain't got a shortage of either."

(If Time were younger, he'd certainly gag at the nickname. It was cute though, and after Twilight had explained his reasoning for calling you that, it added onto the level of sweetness.)

Idk why I started this off like it was a fic. Anyways.

After arriving in Ordon (or wherever else you two decided to live), Time would be a little more than conflicted because?? You literally kissed Twilight's cheek and gave him the most dreamy smile??? You are not your ancestor????? But he also doesn't want to call or think of Twilight as a liar????????

(To be entirely truthful, he doesn't think Twilight has a lying bone in his body.)

After being invited inside, Time is further confused by Twilight's telling of you. You offered him clean clothes, to bandage his scrapes and bruises, and asked him what he wanted to eat since it was nearing the time you usually started dinner.

Time doesn't even think his version of you knew how to cook.

Since the dinner table only seats two (for now. Twilight is always talking about how he's gonna build a bigger one for the future), you, Time, and Twilight are settling yourselves around the living room or whatever they were called back then.

"Shame Malon ain't here, huh Old Man?"

You elbow Twilight hard enough to almost make him drop him plate while hissing "don't be rude," and that's when Time finally starts to see the similarities between his you and Twilight's you.

"What? 'm not the only one that calls him old man! Everyone does! He said we could call 'em that to!"

"Oh, so it's your job to point out the obvious now? What if he was insecure about his age?"

"He ain't!"

The second thing that makes him reason that you really hadn't changed in over a hundred years is when you kick Twilight for pulling your feet into his lap while the plates were still present.

You said it was a hygiene thing, Twilight joked that it was because your feet were ugly.

There's a knot on Twilight's head now.

Totally unrelated but just had the brief image of Time laying in bed with Malon once they hit his timeline and he's just telling her all about his time staying with you and Twilight to try and convince her about moving the whole having kids things to now instead of later.

Also imagining him finding you in his timeline and just gossiping, asking if you've found anyone special to settle down with.

(Time looks like he gives and gets good gossip. He looks like he knows exactly what to say/do to get the good stuff because of everything from Majora's Mask.)

ANYWAYS.

Time sees a lot more of his you in Twilight's you the day after. Whether you work alongside Twilight or somewhere in the city (or not at all), he's able to see everything in your mannerisms.

(You asked if he wanted to do the equivalent of a ride-along while you were out and he's never said yes to something so quickly— except when Malon asked him out. Y'all are def talking about stupid shit Twilight's done.)

From how you haggle prices down, to how you drive away people who had less than innocent intentions (from yourself and others. He'd have a field day retelling how you verbally bullied a man for trying to steal from an older woman), it all just screamed his you.

As soon as he gets to his timeline he's showing up at your front door to catch up, trust and believe 🤞🏽

[lewmagoo]

swathed in the purple glow | bob floyd

description: in which he desperately seeks a way to relieve the tension he carries

warnings: 18+ only, mentions of a plane crash (aftermath of the bird strike), dom/sub dynamic, sub!bob, spanking, pegging, bob has a thing for sucking on titties, crying, subspace, aftercare

pairing: bob floyd x wife!reader (i tried to keep it gn but there's a possibility that i slipped up)

wanna be added to my taglist? go here

He’d never been so fucking tense before.

His entire body was as rigid as a board, and he feared that he might snap at any moment, like a rubberband biting at exposed skin. 

He supposed that hurtling toward the ground at full speed might do that to a person. He remembered so clearly the way his body had locked up, bracing for the impact. Amazingly, he seemed to be sore from his head down to his feet. 

He was bruised in odd places. There was a cut on his arm from where a jagged rock had sliced into his flight suit when he landed. But those things weren’t nearly as uncomfortable as the tension he couldn’t seem to alleviate.

He’d considered going for a massage. But he really didn’t have time within the day to schedule such a thing, certainly not with the most high-profile mission of his career on the horizon. There was, however, one solution that could potentially ease that unbearable tension.

That solution just so happened to also share his last name. And what was that solution? Why, his wife, of course.

He knew that all he had to do was say the word and you would take care of him. The only problem was, he didn’t have much time. Between leaving early in the morning, and coming home exhausted in the evenings, he could hardly muster up the energy to ask for it. 

However, one afternoon he was released from work a little earlier than normal. Likely from Captain Mitchell feeling benevolent and giving his pilots a few extra minutes to breathe before it really got down to the nitty-gritty.

Bob knew you’d be home. He’d texted you to make sure of it. You weren’t sure why he’d asked, but you had a feeling. And sure enough, that feeling was confirmed when he practically burst through the door of your rental, eyes slightly wild, normally perfect hair mussed and curling against his sweat-glimmering forehead. 

You knew. He didn’t even have to say anything. 

“Oh, Bobby,” you cooed, and he quite literally whimpered. His knees almost buckled. You had to usher him to the nearest chair so he wouldn’t collapse. “What do you need, honeybun?”

“I-I need…I can’t…oh, I’m so sore and tense and I…”

You took his face in your hand, reaching up to lovingly brush his hair back, fully revealing his handsome face. “You need to be fucked. Is that it?”

His bottom lip quivered. The cobalt in his eyes went dark, almost navy blue in color. “Yes.”

That was all he had to say for you to know exactly what to do. You nodded, standing upright. “Okay. I’ll go get set up. Wait for me to call you upstairs, alright?”

When he nodded, you turned and made your way upstairs. The first thing you did was head into your bedroom and draw the blackout curtains, swathing the room in darkness. It was necessary to set the tone for what was about to follow.

Then, you went about lighting a few candles and setting the mood lighting, turning the room a comforting purple. Once you were satisfied, you continued on to gather everything you would need. The chest you kept under the bed, full of different types of toys. The bag you kept in the closet, containing things you would need during aftercare, such as snacks, wet wipes, water bottles, soothing lotions, and the like.

You finished by stripping down to just your bra and underwear before you finally made your way to the top of the steps and called for Bob. Once you heard the creak of the floor signifying that he was on his way up, you went back to the bedroom and perched on the edge of the bed. 

Moments later, Bob stepped into the room. He stood in the doorway, taking in the sight. You had the lowlights on, keeping the atmosphere calming, free of harsh light. He could already feel himself relaxing, a certain calmness washing over him, even more so when you beckoned him forth.

He knelt before you, and you ran your fingers through his honeyed tresses. "Do you want to talk about it, precious boy?" you asked, but Bob shook his head.

"I just want to forget about the last few days for a little while," he confessed.

You hummed in understanding, and then leaned in close, fingers resting on his jaw as you turned his face toward yours. "Undress for me then.”

You released him, and Bob made quick work of stripping from his uniform, his belly alight with anticipation. He neatly placed his uniform over the chair that sat in the corner. Then, he moved toward the bed, but he didn't sit upon it. Instead, he lowered himself, entirely naked, to his knees before you for a second time.

"Good boy," you praised, reaching down to stroke his cheek. He nuzzled into your hand, realizing how desperate for your touch he was.

All too soon, you stood, slipping away toward the chest of toys. Bob watched intently as you began rummaging through it and gathering items. He saw you get the harness for your strapon out, and he shivered at the thought of what you were going to do to him. His cock had already begun to harden.

"Get on the bed," you instructed, and he obeyed immediately, rising to take a seat on its plush surface. You joined him, carrying a black paddle in your hand along with your harness. He knew what came next, so he quickly turned over onto his stomach, without prompting.

You trailed your hand over his round ass, admiring how it looked in the dim mood lighting. "I'm going to ruin this cute little bottom tonight," you promised. Bob moaned at your words. He hoped you would.

"Now, instead of laying on your stomach, I want you on your hands and knees," you commanded further.

He complied, immediately righting himself and waiting for your next move. You brushed the paddle over his ass, dipping it down between his legs and gently trailing it over his balls, at which he took in a whimpered gasp. It made you smile.

“Before I start, what do you say if you need a break, or you can’t handle it?”

He took in a breath and said, “Palomino,” with confidence.

“We can take as many breaks as you want if you need them.”

“Yes ma’am.”

That response sent a shudder through you.

"Stay still," you commanded, and he braced himself, knowing what was coming. He gritted his teeth as the paddle came in contact with his bare skin. The swat wasn't that hard, but the smack still sent a jolt through him. He knew you were starting out easy, and it would soon grow more intense. But that was what he needed. He wanted to be rendered to tears by the end of it. It was the only way to release the tension he held.

Another whack! landed across his ass. Then another, and another. Bob counted them in his head, wondering when you'd decide to stop. He hoped you wouldn't anytime soon.

You watched him as you administered his punishment, noting the way he responded to it. He was desperate for this, you could tell.

You couldn't help but admire his skin as it began to flush pink from the welts left by the wooden paddle. However, the sounds he was making were even prettier. He gasped and whimpered each time the paddle came in contact with him, body jolting.

"What do you say for your punishment?" You asked, offering another harsh swat.

"Th-thank you, ma’am," he moaned.

"Good boy." You rested a gentle hand against his lower back as you continued, watching as he came unraveled beneath you. “What’s your color?”

“Green,” he sighed blissfully.

He was beginning to melt already. He let himself slip into a state of vulnerability that only you were given the privilege to see. Right there, before you, he'd already begun to succumb to his brewing emotions. The pain rippled through him, heating his skin like a flame. He clutched at the bed covers, writhing against them. You coaxed it all out of him, wringing him out like a damp cloth.

It happened faster than you were anticipating. Halfway through the spanking, the tears began to spill forth, and Bob collapsed against the bed, wracked with sobs. You ceased the punishment then, setting the paddle aside. Quickly, you climbed onto the bed beside him, pulling him into your arms. He buried his face against your chest, crying openly.

You ran your fingers through his soft hair, quietly soothing him. "My precious boy," you cooed, "you took that so well. I'm so proud of you."

You lay there for a long while, as Bob let it all out. He didn't have to feel ashamed of his emotions here. There was no judgment from you, none in the least. You were there to comfort him when he fell apart, and you somehow put him back together again in the process.

After a while, he slowly lifted his head, teary eyes gazing into your own. You smiled, stroking his cheek with your fingertips. "Feel better?" You asked.

He nodded. "Y-yeah," he whispered, lowering his head again, and resting it upon your soft breast. "Thank you."

"Of course, honeybun."

Again, you settled, with your hand in his hair and his head against your chest. But Bob was growing antsy, shifting in your arms. You knew why, and you could soon feel the evidence of it against your thigh. You glanced down, humming softly.

"Oh, sweet boy. That spanking made you so hard, didn't it?" You taunted, and Bob whined deep in his throat.

"Yes ma’am."

You brought your hand down between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock. He gasped at the feeling, hips jolting against you. "Poor thing, I bet you're just aching to come." You began to stroke him slowly, and he watched through hazy eyes.

But he soon grew preoccupied with something else. His hands came up to tug at your bra, and before you knew it, he'd pulled it down, exposing your breasts. He nuzzled his face against the soft flesh, searching for a form of pacification.

You pushed your chest towards him so he could have better access, and soon, his lips were wrapped around a hardened bud, suckling softly. You hummed in pleasure, pressing your body closer to his own.

You remained like that for a while, as you languidly stroked his cock, and he nursed your breast. The heat of arousal warmed you both, deepening your need for each other. Bob whimpered softly when you applied more pressure, stroking him with purpose, and he pulled his mouth away from you to speak.

"If you keep doing that 'm gonna come," he whispered.

"Oh, we can't have that now, can we? When you come tonight, it's going to be with my cock buried inside you, and only then. Do you understand me?" You spoke. Bob nodded, his eyes still glassy from the tears he'd shed.

But you weren't satisfied with just a nod. You gave a warning squeeze to his balls, and he gasped. "What do you say?"

"Yes ma’am," he hissed, and you loosened your grip.

You kissed him, and he melted into it, clearly in need of tenderness tonight. "Don't worry, sweet boy. I'll take good care of you."

You slipped away then, much to his dismay, but you soothed him, informing him that you were just getting things ready. You stood, pulling on the strapon you'd laid out. Bob watched through heavy-lidded eyes as you fastened it in place, and your eyes locked with his as you reached down, stroking the toy as if it were part of your body.

"Get into position. I want you on your back."

Bob obeyed without hesitation while you retrieved a bottle of lube. As you approached, he spread his legs for you, and your gaze fell to his cock resting heavy on his lower abdomen, swollen and pink, dribbling precum onto his skin, aching for attention. You'd give it to him, all in due time.

He seemed to have a pavlovian response to the bottle of lube being opened, and he moaned softly, watching you slick it all over the strapon before you proceeded to prepare his entrance. He shivered at the feeling of your fingers swirling around the sensitive spot before you slipped them inside, prepping him to take you.

Bob sighed softly, and he gazed at you with pleading eyes. "May I please touch myself?" He softly asked.

You considered it for a moment, and nodded. "Go ahead."

He wrapped a large, elegant hand around his cock and began to stroke, never taking his eyes off you as he watched you situate yourself between his legs. Soft hands slid up his sensitive thighs before you pushed them a little further apart. Then you began to slowly inch into him, and Bob gritted his teeth at the feeling of being stretched.

You didn't stop until you were fully seated inside him, and he hissed softly. "Good boy," you praised, "I can tell you've been keeping this cute little ass prepped for me with the plug I told you to wear."

His cheeks tinged pink. "Y-yes. I, uh…I slipped one inside to wear on the drive home. I-I took it out before I came up. Left it in the sink downstairs."

You smiled, ducking down to kiss him. "Such an obedient boy."

Bob moaned at the praise, arching his body into yours. You began slowly working your hips into him, building a steady rhythm that soon had him writhing against the bed. His body was gorgeous in the low, purple-tinged light. You admired the rise and fall of his chest as he gasped, the roll of his sharp pelvis as you pushed into him. There was something almost ethereal about him.

Through it all, he continued to touch himself, palming his hard, leaking cock as his you fucked him. In that very moment, as you offered a particularly deep thrust, you brushed against that deliciously pleasurable spot within him, and he let out a strangled cry.

"Oh! Right there!" he gasped in a high-pitched whine, shivering beneath you.

His encouragement had you quickening your movements, and soon, you'd pushed his hand out of the way, taking over pleasuring him. You reached over, grabbing the bottle of lube and pouring some into your hand before you resumed your stimulation, massaging that big, beautiful cock of his.

Bob gripped the sheets, needing something to hold on to. He didn't care how needy and desperate he got. With other sexual partners, he would have cared. But with you, he could let that submissive part of himself shine through.

He'd never been able to do that with anyone before. No one understood him enough to be able to take care of him in the way only you could. Not that he’d had many sexual partners before you. His first had been his high school girlfriend, when they were young and dumb. His second had been another girl before you. He’d never been able to relax and fully enjoy sex with her. It felt so…impersonal. 

But then, he'd met you. You were everything he’d ever dreamed of. You didn’t treat him like he was a fragile, shy wallflower. You knew that he was capable of greatness. That he was incredibly skilled, wickedly smart, and sharp as a tack.

You also knew what he needed. Knew how to bring him to his knees and make him submit. He found himself melting into a puddle at your feet, submitting to you in a way he'd never done with anyone before.

It had blossomed into so much more. You'd introduced him to the world of the dominant and submissive dynamic. Bob knew of such dynamics. He was a reader, and he read up on many things he was curious about. Including BDSM and the word surrounding it. But he’d never fully delved into it. It was so much more to it than simply being called mommy or daddy.

There was a special level of trust involved. And what Bob hadn't been expecting was the intimate bond that came with it. He had a connection with you he'd never experienced before in his life. He experienced safety and security and a fulfilling emotional intimacy that changed everything for him.

He willingly gave himself to you, and you cherished his submission. Just as you were now.

From above, you smiled down at him, softness showing in your eyes. "You're taking my cock so well, darling boy," you cooed, and he whimpered softly.

"F-feels so good." Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes again. 

Your hand around his cock stroked him with purpose, syncing with your thrusts, and you could tell that he was beginning to lose himself. He bit his lip to hold back a squeal as you went deeper, but that just wouldn't do. "You let those pretty sounds out," you commanded.

He threw his head back, wailing loudly. It was useless to mask his pleasure. He was in ecstasy, and he let it show. You were in awe, watching as he let himself succumb to it all. You pulled your hand away from his cock then, wanting to watch as it twitched with each brush against his prostate.

Bob looked at you, desperation in his eyes. "Please touch me again," he pleaded.

But you wanted him to feel a different form of pleasure. "No, I want you to squirt for me. No hands, my cock is all you need."

At that, his eyes widened, and he nearly sobbed, because he could feel the intensity creeping up on him. You leaned closer then, taking his face in your hands and kissing him deeply, breaking the kiss only to place your forehead against his own so you could watch him fall apart.

His eyes glimmered with tears of pleasure, and they soon began to trail down his cheeks. You encouraged him to let it all out, to feel the emotions, the pleasure, every sensation in that very moment.

He began to grow overwhelmed, breath quickening, chest heaving. "You're okay, Bobby," you assured him. You slipped two fingers into his mouth, and that soothed him instantly, his oral fixation satiated.

You let him suck on your fingers for a while, and he pulled back only to let out moans and whimpers. You could tell that he was nearing his end, just by the way his body responded.

He shuddered and arched off the bed to meet your thrusts, and suddenly, he pulled his mouth from your fingers, letting out a broken cry. "Oh! I-I'm gonna come!"

"It's okay, baby. Go ahead, make a mess for me."

A few more thrusts and he was done for, careening up off the mattress as he was overwhelmed by an orgasm that spread from his toes to the top of his head. Just as you'd said, he made a mess, seed spilling thick and white all over his abdomen in seemingly copious amounts.

Finally, he fell limp against the mattress, completely breathless and trembling from the aftershocks. "Good boy," you praised, "such a good boy."

Oh so slowly, you began to ease out of him, and he whined at the empty feeling once you'd pulled away completely. He was knocked out of his afterglow for a brief moment, glancing down and realizing how much of a mess he had made.

"It's all over," he whined, "s’ messy. G-gotta clean it up."

"Hush. I’ll take care of it." You kissed him gently, soothing him before you slipped away briefly to grab a towel and a pack of wipes from your aftercare bag. You warmed a couple of wipes in your hands before you gently wiped his release from his skin. You moved away only to throw the wipes in the trash.

You were with him again in an instant, and he immediately reached for you, wrapping two long arms around your waist as you settled beside him.

He rested his head against your chest again, and you placed one hand on his head, fingers threading through his hair. The other rested on his shoulder. He moved to look into your face, and you noticed his bottom lip was quivering. "Was I a good boy for you?" He asked.

"Of course you were, Bobby. You took that so well, I'm so proud of you." You kissed his forehead, and he melted into you. He'd clearly slipped into a gloriously small headspace, and you wanted to encourage it for as long as he would remain that way. 

His brow furrowed with worry for a moment, and he attempted to pull away. "I have to make you feel good," he said, but you placed a hand on his chest.

"No, what I want you to do is lay here for a little while with me. Don't worry about a thing."

Then he relaxed against you, letting out a soft sigh. You knew he wasn't in the right headspace to pleasure you. He needed to be taken care of, and would likely get overwhelmed if he tried to make you feel good.

Again, he sought out your breast, and you allowed him to have it, stroking his hair as he wrapped his lips around a hardened bud. Your chest warmed with love for him in that moment. Here was this beautiful man, so used to working a dangerous, intense job, putting his life on the line every day, reduced to a state of gentleness and docility. He needed to be taken care of, and you were there to provide that care.

It seemed that the horrible tension he’d been holding had finally melted away from his tired body. He let out a sigh of contentment, and his eyes fluttered shut, long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks.

As Bob drifted to sleep in your arms, his mouth still at your chest, you cradled him close, humming a soothing tune. He was safe here, body pressed close to yours. The harshness of the world couldn't touch him. And if it tried, you would protect him from it, because that was what you had promised him you'd do.

You thought you heard him murmur a soft “thank you,” into your chest.

"I'll always take care of you, sweet boy. Always,” you pledged. 

He’d never doubted you would.

-

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