#because that's what anyone in their right mind would do with a real life space hitler cosplayer

[short-wooloo]

the reality reylos live in is so weird

listen to them talk about their precious “kylo lives” au follow ups to ros and they’re always going on and on about how “wonderful” it is that Rey and kylo live happily ever after together (bleagh) in a hetero nuclear family new jedi order, but they never seem to have an answer for why everyone in the universe ignores and lets the mass murdering fascist off the hook

[stevieschrodinger]

Eddie notices things.

He might be loud and brash, might be over the top and his mouth might run away before his brain can kick in, but he still notices things.

He likes the details. Loves a fantasy world that’s so detailed it’s believable. Loves a tiny detail in a story that becomes relevant two hundred pages later. Loves a detail in a puzzle in a DnD game. He loves the minutia of everything.

So he notices these details about people. Mostly because Eddie likes to create people. He likes to write his own stories, likes to make his DnD characters real...foibles and all. Any time Eddie is alone, or bored, or waiting, sometimes he looks around and thinks, ‘if I were writing this, how would I describe it?’ And then he does...he writes in his head about the tree he can see, what the weather is doing right now, how he would describe the quality of the sunlight or the way the rain rattles against the window. He watches complete strangers and writes out their whole life in his head. Eddie likes the details, and he likes to create characters, and he also thinks, a lot of the time, you write what you know.

So yeah, Eddie pays attention to the people around him. How they dress, how they behave, if they bite their nails or chew pen lids. If they stand straight or lounge against the nearest wall or counter. How they cradle their smoke in their hand when it’s breezy out.

All the little details he can build into characters he makes in his mind.

Steve’s calendar interests him. It probably shouldn’t, that stuff would be private if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s hanging in Steve’s kitchen where anyone can see it. Plus the fact that it is just a calendar and there for by it’s nature isn’t very interesting. Eddie thinks he finds it interesting just by the virtue that it’s to do with Steve Harrington, and therefore it immediately becomes very interesting to Eddie.

It’s got big pages, a decent amount of space to write in every day. And Steve has. Every single day.

There’s a pattern to it that Eddie deciphers pretty fast; his shift at work is on the top line; it’s in red. Next is anything to do with the kids, and it’s in green; picking the kids up or meeting them or going to a game for Lucas or basically anything like that. Then blue, and that seems to be stuff to do with Eddie himself, Robin, Nancy, if he needs to meet them, give them a ride somewhere, or just times to hang out.

The bottom line is in black, and it’s stuff like, ‘hoover’, ‘do laundry’, ‘bathroom,’ ‘kitchen’, ‘groceries,’ followed by a little note that seems to be about whatever Steve plans to have for dinner that night.

Below it is a note pad, also hanging up, with an in process grocery list on it. Eddie knows why all this is here; Steve’s forgetful.

If Steve makes plans, he immediately writes it down; Eddie’s seen it for himself.

Eddie sees it too, when Steve’s struggling to hear. If too many people speak at once, or if there’s too much background noise, Steve doesn’t stand a chance.

If he’s not looking at you when you’re speaking to him, chances are, he might not be hearing you. Which, okay, Eddie’s just kind of rolling with it.

Until they get together. No one was more surprised by this turn of events than Eddie, who was convinced that he was just going to pine after Steve forever and that would just be how things were for the rest of his life. That was right up until Steve Harrington held his hand and just sort of...seemed to forget to let go.

Eddie hasn’t pointed it out to him yet, he’s still kind of worried that if he points out the fact that they’re kind of, sort of, dating, Steve might realize and stop again. So yeah, Eddie rides the wave, not at all freaking out when Steve invites him over for dinner and a movie like that’s just a normal thing they do now. Because it is. Because they’re kind of dating.

There’s no answer, but that’s pretty normal, the front door is unlocked a lot of the time, Steve doesn’t want to hinder anyone's entry if there’s any kind of emergency going on, and it’s totally normal now for any of them to just wander into Steve’s house.

Steve is cooking; Eddie can smell it. He stands in the kitchen doorway and says Steve’s name. And predictably, Steve doesn’t react.

Eddie takes this as an opportunity to gauge this. He says Steve’s name a little louder; still nothing.

Eddie tries four times, a step closer and a little louder each time, until the last time, when Steve spins around so fast the spoon he’s holding splatters sauce on the counter top and his other hand flies to his chest, “holy shit.”

“Sorry,” Eddie rubs at Steve’s arm and shoulder as he gets his breathing under control, “you couldn’t hear me.”

Steve shrugs, “it’s fine.”

“Stevie…you could at least, you know, go get them checked, or whatever.”

Steve hums, "maybe, if you go with me," and Eddie's quick to agree, because he gets a kiss out of it.

[pandoraslxna]

Luna love PLEASEEEEE HEAR ME OUT‼️ Dilf!Jake getting mad at human!reader when he catches her on her room in the science lab using toys instead of him (that are not even close to his length btw), and fucking her dumb. Like fucking some senses to her, with degradation kink pretty please?

Pent up and stressed out

Jake Sully x female human reader

Words: 3.7k

Summary: Jake knows just the way to help you relief some of that pent up frustration.

Warnings: explicit smut, use of toys, caught masturbating, age difference, size difference, p in v, oral, degradation, praise, dirty talk, use of daddy (once), brat tamer dilf!jake

It was the melting-pot of earths greatest minds, a central locus for innovation and invention, a modern day renaissance. It was where scientists went to work on the next next best thing, before the next best thing had even arrived. It was where everyone who was anyone in the scientific community would go to start a new life and get their hands dirty on real science. And of course, the science at the RDA’s Laboratories was very real –and very dangerous. But what's life without risks? If life gives you lemons, use the decaying remains of those lemons to invent the best damn anti-lemon device possible! (And maybe colonize the poor Lemon farmers home too, while you’re at it.)

Well, at least, that was the marketing for Pandora. And to be honest, in the very beginning it was this ideal (and quirky) view of how the RDA worked that you had fallen in love with all those years ago when you worked there as an intern. That was, before you figured what these limb dicks were actually doing here.

Of course they don’t tell you about that war stuff back on earth. They don’t tell you about the natives, the blood that will stick on your hands, the flora and fauna they promised you to study to be burned to ashes because apparently mankind needs apartments and streets and fucking beer on this exomoon.

You were tired of how things worked. You were tired of the long hours, of snappy managers, of being shuffled from lab to lab for no apparent reason, of working on projects for six months at a time and then being told they were cancelled –and sometimes finding out later that some of them had been handed to a different scientific team. You were tired of how cavalier some of the higher-ups seemed about handling dangerous technology and killing innocents. And you were tired of the secrecy about this insanely morally wrong war.

That’s when you had decided to switch sides. Of course switching to the human / na‘vi revolution might’ve been the morally correct way, but what they don’t show you in the contract is, that this path doesn’t come with the luxury of working at high technology laboratories with dozens and dozens of other scientists to share this massive amount of work with. It doesn’t come with unlimited food, water, electricity and other much needed resources. Oh and remind me, who was complaining about the long hours at the RDA earlier? Yeah, that was pretty much nothing, compared to the fact that you hadn’t touched your bed in forty-nine hours.

Life on Pandora had definitely not been what you had expected when you first arrived here. The only difference now was, that you now did it with pleasure instead of guilt.

Working in the labs at high camp was probably the best thing that could’ve happened to you, but doing the right things never comes easy.

Sure, it took a while to get used to the power running out every few days and having to bath in a river, eating whatever the forest gives and oh, let’s not forget the eight feet tall, blue teenagers lingering around in your work space accompanied by a half naked tarzan with painted on stripes, making it extremely difficult to focus on your work.

Speaking of concentration…

"Kid, why the hell are you still here?"

"Huh, w-what?" You awoke with a start, and for a moment you didn't know where you even were. Your neck hurt as you lifted it up, rubbing the sleep away in your tired eyes only to be met with a pair of blue, muscular thighs standing right in front of your desk. Immediately, your gaze shoots all the way up.

“I said, why the hell are you still here?", Jake furrows his brows as he glares down at you, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's almost 3 am and this is the second night in a row that I catch you in here. Go. home."

"Jake we talked about this before", you roll your eyes at him, pushing away from the desk to walk over to where some of the scientists lockers stand. "I‘ll go, once I get this shit done." You make a gesture in the air to point at the petridish on your desk, with five ar'lek seeds inside. The healing potential of those seeds was something you’ve always took great interest in, especially during times where more of this medicine was needed than the Na‘vi could even harvest.

"No, you’re leaving right now", the clans Olo'eyktan and former marine said sternly. "No damn plant can be this important you’re loosing two days of sleep over it."

"Oh tell me about it…", you mumbled under your breath as you fiddled with the lock, flung the door open and reached for a small blue container. You unscrewed the lid and tipped the container ever so slightly. Out onto your outstretched hand popped two capsules, their smooth surface reflecting the fluorescent lights placed far above you. Down you gulped them, and up reached a hand to grasp a bottle of water. You took a swig.

Another day, another pill, another length of sanity in a place of madness.

The na‘vi behind you quirks a brow, "What was that?"

"Uh, this?", you shake the blue container and the pills inside rattle demonstrative. "Norm bought them from the raid last week. It’s a food substitutes. Helps me concentrate."

Caffeine in a pill, basically.

Jake let’s out a heavy sigh as he circles the desk and approaches you, the equipment and furniture around him looking comically small.

"You don’t needs pills, kid", he says, taking the container from you and placing in inside the locker a little harder than necessary to bring his point across. He’s towering over you without even trying, and you have to crane your neck all the way up to properly look at him. "What you need is sleep and a way to relief of all of that pent up stress. You’re here all the time, do you even eat? Have some time for yourself? When’s the last time you took a shower, huh?"

God, this man was a dad through and through.

You didn’t know if it was the difference in age or just his general authority, but whatever it was that made him talk to you like you were nothing but a fussy teenager, it was getting on your nerves. Even more than usually.

"Ha-ha very funny. Next you tell me to go visit a spa over the weekend. Oh, thanks boss that’s so kind of you for giving me a couple of days off", your voice had turned into a mocking tone, which makes both of his eyebrows raise in amusement. He cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to keep going, but your gaze only drops in embarrassment. "Leave me alone, Jake. I’ve got work to do…"

"See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about", he chuckles and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What?" You almost bark at him.

"You’re pent up. Quit acting like a little brat, go home and take care of it. Or I will."

Take care of it. Jake’s words whispered over and over and over in your head, a rolling loop that you thought might actually drive you insane. It’s not like you didn’t try, you really did. But as tempting as your bed might seemed to you, as tired as you were when you dragged yourself back to hells gate, you just couldn’t rest, couldn’t will yourself to sleep.

You’ve always spent your days with your mind full to the brim with various theories, studies and seemingly endless responsibilities, so much so that you often found it difficult to empty your mind for sleep. Sometimes you would recite the na’vi names of plants to yourself in your head ("Panopyra, Pamtseowll, puríhsa..."), over and over, like counting sheep, trying to memorize their names. You would take a quick jog around the building, read a book or sometimes even meditate. But some other times you simply preferred another method of relaxation.

Take care of it. Or I will.

He could be so insufferable when he was bossing you around, you thought to yourself with a heavy sigh as you let your hands run down your curves, feeling the soft swell of your breasts, over your stomach and the hem of your pyjama shirt.

"Is that an order, sir?", you grumble to yourself, mentally rolling your eyes at him as your fingers skim past the waistband of your shorts.

But eywa bless him to whatever heaven existed, this man was truly gifted with a body that served as material for your wettest dreams and dirtiest fantasies more than once before.

There had to be some rule against woman finding men around their fathers age hot. Men whose authority made them ten times more attractive, but just as annoying when they were treating you like a kid. Men that were exotic and alien and blue and tall and— There had to be some law that– that could protect you from the man that Jake Sully was. There had to be something in the books about dealing with this, with him. Especially if the only way you knew how to deal with whatever feelings you harbored for the much older ex-marine, was with busying your hands between your spread thighs.

Instantly, there’s this sensation, hot and burning and you allow it to rise within your core— allow it, and welcome it. You exhale softly, and the slick, wet feeling under your fingertips gives you a gratifying sense of accomplishment, fueling you to circle over your clit, gentle at first, but slowly adding more pressure over time. Your other hand clasps over your mouth, barely able to stifle a moan as the other finger that had been teasing your entrance slowly slips inside.

Breathlessly, you feel your head dip back further, as you recognize the heat slowly building, radiating from your core. Gyrating your hips, the feeling of wetness and pleasure builds within yourself, enough to make your hips buck up against your own hands. Thrusting your fingers in and out, you huff out a frustrated breath when you realize it’s not nearly enough to take the edge off.

Withdrawing your hands, you reach for your nightstand and pull the upper drawer open. It reveals a set of various toys, different colors and sizes, and you don’t need to think twice before you grab the biggest one and settle yourself back into the comfort of your pillow. It’s a blue dildo. Of-fucking-course.

It takes a few tries, the tension slips for a moment or two, but soon, you find the right angle to allow the slippery toy to slip inside and caress the spot you‘ve been seeking. More pleasure begins to wash over you, not unlike waves washing ashore, as you build up the tension your body craves you to chase. Your fingertips run in circles over your clit as you push the toy inside and angle it up, dragging the silicon tip along your soft, spongy walls and you moan, loud and wanton.

Your toes curl tightly as you approach what might just be the state of bliss you‘ve been seeking. The verge of Nirvana, quite literally, at your fingertips. Inhaling sharply, you feel that pleasure intensify and spread throughout your entire body. Your toes curl tighter, though you’re only vaguely aware of it for a moment.

Squeezing your eyes shut, your head lolls from side to side, before you pry your eyes open and glance between your spread thighs. The toy glistens in your arousal when you pull it out and your legs quiver when you push it back inside. In your lustful haze, it takes a few more thrusts, and then your eyes finally land on the door in front of your bed; widen open, with a big blue silhouette leaning against the metal frame, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted to the side in his telltale stance.

Your movements stop altogether.

"J-Jake!?" You shriek, clenching your thighs shut.

"Hey, sweetheart", he grins lazily, then pushes off the doorframe to approach you.

"What are you–"

"Thought I’d check on you", he cuts you off and the sway of his tail behind his back reminds you of a cat that just caught a mouse. "See if you arrived home safe and sound, and took care of that little problem how I told you to."

The mattress then dips as he puts a knee on top of it and reaches for your ankle. You squeak when he pulls your towards him with barely any effort, then spreads your thighs with his entirely too big hands on either one of your legs.

"Looks like you needed it bad, huh?", he chuckles and a deep flush of embarrassment settles on your face when he twists the toy inside you and then gently pulls it out. "But you could’ve just asked, you know? Instead of using these pathetic little toys. No wonder you’re always this pent up when that’s what you’re using."

The toys is tossed aside before you can open your mouth to object, your chest heaving in frantic pants as he kneels onto your bed with a creak of your old mattress.

"Jake..?", you whisper, the sudden, uncertain tone in your voice making him lick his lips in anticipation as you pushed yourself up on your elbows.

"Shhh, let daddy take care of you, yeah? Gonna relief some of that stress so my little brat knows how to behave again. That sound good?", he asked, with a fucking smug shit-eating grin. If only your face wasn’t bright red in flustered embarrassment, Jake would’ve taken the provocative roll of your eyes more seriously as you let yourself fall back against the sheets.

"Not a brat…", you mumble, but your eyebrows are only knit together for a second before they shoot up in surprise when grabs the underside of your knees and folds your legs so your ankles almost touch your ears. "F-Fucking, sh– ah!" The moan breaks out of you in a wheezed curse the very moment Jake’s tongue goes flat between your wet folds and his lips close around your clit.

He starts rather roughly, sucking hard on that little bundle of nerves until tears prick at the corner of your eyes. His tongue dips down to lap at your arousal, groaning against you as he pushes past your entrance and fucks you on his tongue. Your moans turn into wails, legs helplessly twitching as he keeps them bend to devour you.

You couldn’t hold out for long, not against the way he knowingly toyed with you, suckling and flicking over your clit, the strange growl he made between filthy slurps vibrating against it. You heard your own voice, a soft river of sounds, murmuring words that weren’t words, curses and moans as you felt the release start to pool in your belly, hot and tingling and restless. Until you couldn’t fight it anymore, thighs trembling around his face and you came with a gasp of his name.

But Jake doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop until your shaking from overstimulation, until your slick is running down his chin and even then, a desperate sound of frustration escapes you when he finally lifts his head up from between your thighs. The waves of your first orgasm had barely subsided, just to the point where your limbs felt heavy, your body drained and wrung out, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more, and it made him laugh, how needy you are.

"Noo", you complain, "don’t– don’t stop!"

"Ah, don’t worry sweetheart I’m only getting started", Jake promises with a dirty smile, shuffling his hips closer to yours before he pulls down his loincloth just enough to reveal his throbbing cock. There’s a certain glint in his eyes as he watches you swallow thickly at the sight. Fuck, he’s big.

"Been acting like such a desperate slut, rolling your eyes at me and talking back under your breath", he says lowly. Jake keeps you in this bend position, but takes hold of his cock at the very base before he drags his tip through your spit and arousal slicked folds. "Should’ve already put you in your place weeks ago", he goes on, "But I knew you just needed your needy little holes filled by a big cock, right?" He pauses for a second, and then you feel the mushroom-like tip prodding against your entrance. "Needed to be fucked like the slut you are. Don‘t worry, doll face. M‘gonna fuck you right to sleep, help you relax reaaal good." And then he pushes inside.

The stretch makes you choke on a scream that threatens to rise through your body and Jake groans at the suffocating heat around his length. "Shit baby, still so fuckin‘ tight, ain’t ya?"

Your hands reach out for his biceps, short nails digging into his skin, sinking crescents into the blue stripes on his arm, your whole body quivering, mind fuzzed with a long-forgotten drowsy sort of bliss.

"Feel me stretching you out? Those damn toys didn’t even loosen you up one bit." Jake grins. His lips are on yours then, his mouth claiming, and he swallows any sounds you might have made as you fit together like a hand in a too-small glove.

He moves, only a little, the springs groan and squeak as he rolls his hips, slow at first, then faster. Your lips are bruised by the time he breaks the kiss and his shoulders are scratched and he’s somehow even deeper, and then his thrusts turn harder.

He’s hot and heavy on top of you and it’s making you tingle and shiver all over.

Jake fucks you with precision, the tip of his cock hammers against your cervix, dragging along your g-spot on the way and it makes your eyes roll all the back inside your head.

"Yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to feel", he chuckles, the sound cutting off into a low groan as he licks away the spit from your bottom lip. "Look at my little slut drooling fr‘me."

Your wet, velvety-like walls are heavenly, warm and constricting him and getting even tighter when he increases his pace. In no time, you were all but melting in his hold, moaning out nonsense that was like music to his ears. Every time Jake’s cock brushed against your g-spot, your moans turned louder and your toes curled into your soles.

"Jesus, baby. You feel so good around me, perfect little cock sleeve."

The sounds he knocked out of you with the sheer force of his thrusts soon turn needy and higher pitched, as he was driving you over the edge faster than you could even proceed it.

"T-There, fuck Jake, right- right there", you mewl, sucking in your bottom lip between your teeth. The man above you groans, half a grin pulling at the corner of his lips before he aims his hips to hit that spongey spot inside you even harder.

"Where, here? That your special spot, hm?"

"Uh-huh, yes! Yes, fucking shi– oh my god!" Your walls pulsate around him, squeezing and clenching his shaft. God, you were so close it almost hurt.

"Hmh, can feel you clenching, baby. You like it that much?", Jake chuckled, and you could only muster the strength to nod weakly. "Gonna come fr‘me, yeah?"

His hips only increased their pace from there, taking you harder, hands holding you tighter, tail coiling around your ankle to spread your legs impossibly wider and you felt so full, it was hard to imagine that there was any more room inside you, not even for his cum. And that thought alone was enough to tip you over the edge with a full body shiver.

His name falls from your spit slicked lips in incoherent brabbles and moans, greedily pleading for more, more more, until—

"Coming! I‘m coming!"

"Look at you", Jake mutters and he sounds so wrecked, so reverent and pleased with himself. "Gorgeous, so pretty when you come on my cock, sweetheart. You needed this, didn’t you? Good girl, you’re doing so good.”

Jake certainly knows what he’s talking about because if only there was a mirror where you could see yourself– You looked completely obscene, folded like a little pretzel, skin flushed with exertion and sheened with sweat while your hair is matted on your forehead. There’s saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth from where you had been unashamedly panting, lips red and plump from kissing and sucking on his tongue.

“My perfect little slut.” Jake pants out, snapping his hips ruthlessly into you, helping you ride out your orgasm.

Jesus, you were a real sight. It makes his balls tighten up and his cock throb inside you.

He was drinking up every sweet little moan and gasp he elicited out of you like this, groaning, before he finally pumped you full of his hot cum, until it leaked out around his girth. "Oh, fuck", Jake murmured and he sounded so far away, thick and rough. Your pussy squelched as he continued to lazily thrust into you. He groans, shattered, hips fucking erratically until they still deep inside you and the tight walls of your cunt milk his cock until he’s completely spent.

It’s only now that you realize how god damn heavy this man was on top of you. Thankfully Jake rolled off before you had to start gasping too badly for air, leaving your front feeling impossibly cold.

"And? Feeling relaxed?" He chuckled, rolling over to pull the blanket over the both of you before he tugs you close against his chest.

"Shut up…", you make out roughly and it’s only then that you realize, you had screamed yourself hoarse. You want to roll your eyes at him, but they unwillingly flutter closed before you can even try to.

"Told ya‘ I’ll fuck you to sleep, kid."

[boldlyvoid]

Falling For You.

[REQUEST] spencer reid x BAU!reader but they're in a secret relationship, and basically she gets him to watch all these romcoms, so when he makes a reference to something like Notting Hill or You've Got Mail and then the whole secret is blown.

warnings: mentions of lila archer, spoilers for 90s/2000s rom-coms, co-workers to lovers, love confessions, implied smut, secret relationships.

word count: 2.4k

It was no secret that the newest team member had a thing for romantic comedies. From the little jokes she made with Penelope to the quote from Pretty Woman on her travel mug, she was a walking Rom-Com reference.

Hotch understood some of the references, JJ would talk her ear off about her favourites, and even Emily and Derek would jokingly re-enact that scene from When Harry Met Sally every time they had a team lunch. It was only Spencer who didn’t get the jokes, and after having to explain them all to him 1 too many times, she finally invited him over to watch some. 

The first one they watched together was Can’t Buy Me Love. Patrick Dempsey, a loveable nerd has been saving up all summer to buy the telescope of his dreams when the girl next door accidentally ruins her mom's favourite dress and needs to buy a replacement… he ends up buying it for her on the condition that she pretends to date him so his Senior Year can be his best year yet. Spencer likes the movie overall, he wishes someone in his high school took enough pity on him to make him popular. But his favourite scene is when they go to the abandoned airplane graveyard and watch the stars in his homemade telescope. 

“I can make one of those,” Spencer whispers to her. 

“Really?” 

He nods, “It would be pretty easy… maybe we could go star gazing someday too?” He asks, biting the bullet and making this movie date the first of many dates they’d go on. 

—

The next movie they watch is Never Been Kissed. Drew Barrymore is a nerdy reporter who goes undercover at a high school and gets to relive her teen years while falling in love for the first time. Spencer likes this one because he can relate, he never had his first kiss until well into his 20s… and she was an actress, too. When he explains that to Y/N she can’t believe it, but he has the magazine photos of them saying goodbye after the case to prove it. 

“Have you kissed many people since then?” She asks, wishing he’d move a little closer to her and steal one. 

He nods, “a few.” 

“anyone good?” 

He shakes his head, “no, I’m saving the best kiss for last.” 

She looks puzzled? “What?” 

“My best kiss will be from the girl I end up marrying,” he gives her a smile and moves his hand over to hold hers. 

“Oh,” she bites back a smile and looks down at their interlocked fingers. “Have you at least met her yet?” 

“I think so…” 

“Well, then shouldn’t you kiss her to find out if she’s the right one?” She teases, leaning into his space even more. 

“I suppose you’re right,” he teases, he cups her face with his free hand and rubs his thumb over her cheek, “are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

She nods and leans in all the way this time. Effectively pressing their lips together. And even for a first kiss, it sure does feel different. It feels like her last first kiss ever. 

—

Keeping it a secret at work is hard when all they want to do is stare at each other with googly-eyes, they’ve fallen head over heels for each other and not told a single soul. No one knows about their movie dates or their real dates either. No one knows they’ve spent a whole night kissing or that they really, really, don’t mind sharing the hotel room with the two queen beds. And they definitely don’t know that they only slept in the one. Together. The whole week they were away. 

After the case ends, they head back to her apartment for their mandated 48 hours off with the pan to watch as many movies as they can. 

The third movie they watch is You’ve Got Mail. 

“Rival bookstore owners hate each other in real life, yet on the internet manage to fall madly in love with one another. Based on an older movie called The Shop Around The Corner, it’s a beloved story brought to life once again by the one and only Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.” 

She explains every movie like this before they put it on. He’s honestly only watching them because he loves listening to her talk about them. 

“You see, they both have partners in real life but they email each other every day, as friends… but you know what it's like in movies like these,” she smirks. “Best friends who have a lot in common find it easy to fall in love.” 

“That they do,” he agrees. 

He raises his arm over the back of the couch and she sits back, leaning into his side just as his hand lands on her shoulder. They snuggle up close, she hits play and he watches with glee, not knowing this was going to become his favourite movie by the time it’s over. 

His favourite line is when two cars honk at each other and their drivers get out to argue, followed by Meg Ryan saying “Don’t you love New York in the fall?” Which is something Tom Hanks says to her in an email earlier that morning.

He loves the way the old man recalls a woman of his past and called her “enchanting” because what a wonderful thing to say about a woman.

He giggles when Tom Hanks tosses aside Pride and Prejudice cause he just doesn’t get it the way Meg's character does. But ultimately, he picks it back up because he wants to get to know her through her reading history. 

“I sympathize with Frank,” Spencer whispers as he brings out a typewriter when they have a perfectly good computer at her house. 

“I know,” she laughs. “I love the tablets at work, I can’t believe you still have Penny paint the files out for you.” 

You are a lone reed standing tall, waving boldly in the curet sands of commerce. Frank compliments Kathleen, or at least he tries to. 

Spencer giggles again. “I remember what it was like being a lone Reid,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

She gets all flustered, so madly in love with him that she wants to scream it from the rooftops but it feels way too soon. They’re only 3 movies into their relationship. Maybe at 10, she’ll tell him. Till then, she looks over at him and steals a real kiss. 

Kathleen is so passionate about her books in the same way that Y/N loves her movies. Spencer sees so many similarities between them that it’s really no wonder that Tom Hanks’ character falls in love with her. Passionate, kind, beautiful women will always have a place in Spencer's heart. 

Their 4th movie is another Meg Ryan classic; When Harry Met Sally, and now Spencer understands why Derek pretends to have an orgasm when he eats a good salad… 

Their 5th movie is Notting Hill and Y/N can tell he doesn’t like it very much because unlike William Tucker, the actress who kissed Spencer never talked to him again after that. 

Their 6th movie, however, is Pretty Woman. And while they shared a bed all through the last case, they’ve never really slept together. So watching a movie all about sex and falling in love really didn’t help the frustration they were both feelings. By the time the movie ended, it was almost midnight and they should’ve been getting ready for bed. 

She gets up and heads to her room, expecting him to follow but he just stands in her doorway, watching with a bit of anxiety in his gut. 

“So…” Spencer asks. “What happens after he climbs up and rescues her?” 

She stills, her heart fills with love and she quickly makes his way to him. She cups his face in her hands, staring up at him. “She rescues him right back.” 

“Indeed you have,” he leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips. “You know what all these movies have in common?” 

“What?” She has no idea where he’s going with this.

“They all fell in love pretty quickly, I mean just look at Vivian and Edward, it took them less than a week,” he explains. “So I don’t feel too crazy when I say… I love you, Y/N. I love you so very much.” 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she whispers between kisses. 

They kiss and kiss and he walks with her, leading her toward the bed where they fall in and make love for the first time. It's hot and close and emotional. It's slow and steady and perfect. It’s everything both of them have dreamed of when they finally met the one. 

— 

On their second day off they watch How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, 13 Going On 30, 50 First Dates, A Walk to Remember, 10 Things I Hate About You, and The Holiday. They would’ve gotten to more if they weren’t so wrapped up in one another. By the time they go back to work, they’ve gotten through half of her list of favourite movies. 

He’s not sure if it’s luck or coincidence or what… but their next case happens to be in New York. 

When they land, they get into their Bureau-issued SUVs and weave in and out of traffic on their way to the scene. They’re honked at multiple times and Spencer just smirks to himself. It’s not until they get out and they’re honked at once again, with some guy yelling at them to get out of his way, that Spencer turns to her and says. “Don’t you love New York in the fall?” 

She giggles and shoves him, “Shut up.” 

“It’s not the fall?” JJ remarks, not knowing why he’d say such a thing or why she’d react like that. 

“Hey, isn’t that…” Emily thinks it over for a second. “That’s a line from you’ve got mail!” 

“How would Spencer know that movie?” JJ laughs it off. 

Spencer turns to beat red with embarrassment. “I’ve seen it…” 

“You’ve seen you’ve got mail?” Derek even rides him for this slip-up. “And when do you have time to watch rom-coms?” 

“I’ve seen the original,” he lies. “It’s based on The Shop Around The Corner. My mom liked it before she got sick.” 

“Okay,” they drop it there. 

Thankfully. 

And by the time the case ends, 3 days have passed, the unsub has been booked into Jail at 9am and they’re free to go home. If they want to. Derek suggests they all go out for breakfast, and Hotch says he rather go home and sleep. JJ wants to go shopping and Emily’s right there with her. 

Spencer on the other hand, he opens his phone and sends Y/N a message. 

“There’s a place in Riverside Park at 91st street where the path curves and there’s a garden. I’ll be waiting there for you.” 

She digs her phone out of her pocket seconds later and smiles, a small sigh leaves her as her shoulders slump. She’s so in love with him it's unreal. 

“What about you, Y/N?” Emily asks her. “Do you want to come with us?” 

“No… no, I have a friend in town I want to meet up with.” 

“Looks like it’s just me and you for breakfast, pretty boy,” Derek teased, wrapping his arm around Spencer. 

He shakes his head, “Actually, I was thinking about going on a little sightseeing adventure, you know I only come to new york for work.” 

“Fine then,” Derek drops it and he, Emily and JJ watch as Spencer and Y/N head off, out of the precinct and in different directions. “I bet you ten bucks they’re meeting up.” 

“Hold on,” JJ says as she calls up Penelope. “Hey, yeah, can you tell me where Spencer and Y/N’s GPS pings in 20 minutes?” 

“I can… why?” Penny asks nervously. 

“No reason. Just a hunch.” 

When Penelope eventually calls her back all she has to say is Riverside Park at 91st Street and they know. 

—

Y/N gets there first, she’s never seen this place in person before. The flowers are even more vibrant than in the movie. There are bees dancing around every other flower, couples walking around hand in hand, people on dog walks and moms with their strollers. It’s just an average early morning in New York. 

And then she sees him. He comes rounding the corner, he’s carrying a bouquet of flowers wrapped in newspaper… at least she thinks they’re flowers. 

What they don’t notice is their friends on the other side of the garden, watching them get closer and closer until they’re chest to chest. He wraps his free hand around her waist, she cups his face in her own hands, and she stares up at him like he hung the stars just for her.  

“I wanted it to be you,” Spencer whispers what was originally Meg Ryan's line. “I wanted it to be you so badly.” 

“You sure did save the best for last,” she knows exactly what he means. 

Just as they lean in to kiss, as his lips meet hers, they hear it. Someone is playing “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” just for them. They smile into the kiss, shocked that their life is playing out like a perfectly written movie and then they see them.

It’s their own friends who played it. They’re clapping in the distance, “Woo!!” Emily cheers.

“We knew this would happen!” Derek throws in for good measure. 

They can’t help but laugh, Spencer pulls her in for another kiss, a longer, more hearty kiss. He loves her and he wants everyone to know. 

When she pulls back, she looks as though she could cry, so he extends the bouquet to her. It’s a bunch of yellow, newly sharpened number 2 pencils tied up with string. 

“Don’t you love New York in the fall?” 

“Not as much as I love you,” she says as she takes them, gladly. “Not even close.” 

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve never had a particularly strong desire to get high. Altered mind states have always been somewhat unappealing to me. The only drug I’ve ever enjoyed taking was a prescription strength muscle relaxant that loosened all my knots at once and sent me into the boneless slumber of jello. Top marks.

But I have dabbled with pot. As I’m wildly sensitive to smoke my only recourse was to try edibles and anyone could’ve predicted this was a recipe for disaster. So here’s the story of the first time I got high.

Connor was a major stoner. He was a high energy guy who loved hiking, had his shit together, and absolutely loved getting high and relaxing. One day he decided to make pot brownies. Connor was an amazing cook in his own right but he came into my life at a time when I was eating mayonnaise sandwiches and started giving me real food so I viewed him as a paragon of cookery. He made amazing desserts. And he didn’t make a batch of no pot brownies.

I’d never had one of Connor’s brownies, before, but dear god I wanted one when they came out of the oven in a waft of rich chocolatey smells. They were fudgey and perfect and all that I wanted in the world was to eat one. I watched him take a bite, burning with envy and desire.

Being high seemed like a small price to pay if only I could sink my teeth into the warm splendor of brownie. I came up to where he was sitting on the couch, slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hey. I want to try a bite,” I told him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” I was sure as fuck that I wanted that brownie in my mouth.

Connor was sat facing the tv and held up his hand without looking so I could take a bite. I am not a creature of modest bites. And I wanted that brownie. I took a huge bite, carving into the interior of the brownie, leaving Connor with a only a rim.

He pulled his hand back and saw the brownie crime I had committed and gave a resigned chuckle. “Well this is going to be fun.”

On one other occasion in my life I’ve tried an edible and there was a brief relaxed period before things went horribly wrong that made me think, this is probably where most people stop and enjoy themselves.

But on this occasion, the massive bite of brownie didn’t drift me slowly up through layers of being high. It skyrocketed me into high space with great prejudice. I have no memory of a middle point, I wasn’t high and then I was suddenly so high I couldn’t function.

I’ve heard people talk about paranoia. I didn’t have that. Some people mention nervousness, no, none of that for me. My mind was simply gone. A thought would blip to life on one side of my brain and fail to travel through the fog to find its conclusion. I couldn’t think. I wasn’t really experiencing sensation. I was nothing in the void.

When Connor realized I’d been staring wall eyed at nothing for too long he said, “How are you doing?”

It took a long time to process the words and even longer to slur out, “I can see everything.”

I don’t remember him getting up and leaving, or waiting, or anything really. Thoughts flickered and died in my mindscape, meaningless and alone.

Then Connor put headphones on me.

I was unable to conceive of anything as wonderful as music surrounding me, and thus began the only nice part of the trip. I might have experienced ego death but at least I had the ethereal sounds of Pure Reason Revolution to wrap myself in.

I’m not sure how long the nice phase lasted. But eventually something started going wrong in my mouth. My throat became uncomfortable enough to pierce the haze I was in. It was almost numb, and impossibly dry. I drank water to no avail. Finally I conceived of the solution. “Ice cream!” I demanded of Connor.

He went to grab some and I was dismayed that when I took a bite the sensation in my throat intensified. “It made it worse,” I complained.

“Made what worse?” Connor asked, because of course I hadn’t actually told him why I’d wanted ice cream.

When I told him what was happening he said, “Oh, of course ice cream is going to make cotton mouth worse.”

“Well then why did you give it to me!” I complained. He smiled fondly at my irrational grumping and got me more water.

Finally I’d had enough. Music couldn’t erase my discomfort, I was getting frustrated I couldn’t think but I was still high as balls and I wanted the night to be over. Connor suggested I go to bed so I climbed up into my bed and lay there, uncomfortably high.

I couldn’t sleep. My throat was so cottony, a side effect I hadn’t known existed and I thoroughly loathed.

Then I thought: I could masturbate! Connor had talked about enjoying that while high. I’d give it a shot. My body however was wiser than my head and was having none of this plan. It refused to respond, stubbornly insisting that now was not the time.

I doubled down, refusing to give up on this horrible idea and in a bitter struggle, and against my body’s own wishes, I produced an orgasm that rated a 0 on the pleasure scale. Something happened but it was like a resentful flex of muscles that stopped immediately.

Furious with the overall experience of being high I buried my head in pillows and finally slept. I told Connor the next day about my attempt and he facepalmed so hard. “Why didn’t you just go to sleep! You were way too high to enjoy that.”

I grumbled and agreed that it was very stupid. I tried to weigh the single bite of brownie I had with the absolutely wretched hours of discomfort and while it didn’t quite balance it was still pretty close. It was a really good brownie.

[morallyinept]

I don't rant very often - it's negative energy that I don't want or need in my life - but I feel that as a fan of Pedro Pascal, I'd like to take a moment to highlight what being a fan actually means.

As clearly, some people, some "fans", have demonstrated having a hard time grasping that concept...

Being a fan of Pedro Pascal means I enjoy his career, his portfolio of works.

Sure, I enjoy his physical looks too; the man is certainly as handsome as they come, let's be real here. Yes, I find him attractive.

More importantly, I enjoy what Pedro stands for; his beliefs, his passions. He stands up for injustice, he is an LGBTQIA+ advocate and friend. He is a feminist. He is politcal. He's proud of his heritage.

Is Pedro perfect? Do I believe the sun shines out of his ass? No, he's human and has flaws and off days like the rest of us.

Ain't no-one that is perfect, babe. That's delusion talking if you truly believe that.

I enjoy that Pedro inspires me to be a better human being.

Being a true fan, to me, means only positive things.

It means respect.

It means respecting Pedro's boundaries, be that in person, or online.

It means respecting Pedro's privacy. He has the right, just like any one of us, to a personal life seperate from his career.

Pedro doesn't have to answer to you, me, or anyone else about his private life.

You are not entitled to him, or his time, just because he is a celebrity. (God, I fucking hate that word.) He does not owe you anything, and nor should he be expected to.

Pedro Pascal is a human being.

As a fan of Pedro, I will not write fanfic about him. Only his characters, because his characters are primarily the reason why I admire Pedro. His characters are how I discovered Pedro to begin with.

He can make me laugh, cry, fall in love, wince when he loses an arm, gasp when he double crosses the protagonist. I can survive a fungal apocalypse with his characters by my side.

That's an incredible testament to his talent as an actor that no matter what role he plays, I don't see Pedro on the screen. I only see his characters.

It's his job and he enjoys it. As a fan, I enjoy his craft.

If you do write about Pedro, that's up to you and I am not going to judge, but for me personally, it's a hard no. And I won't be reading any of it either, sorry.

As a fan of Pedro, I can draw the line between fantasy and reality. Meaning, I would never go out of my way to invite, devise, plant myself in deliberately, or exploit a situation where Pedro is in my personal space, or I in his.

Firstly, I'm a realist. And secondly if I ever met the guy, chances are I'd walk right past him and not even notice. (It's happened a lot, not with Pedro but with other actors etc... I live in the capital, there are a lot of them here.)

And thirdly, I am not a stalker.

I would never intentionally track him down in another country whilst he is working or vacationing, and then post about how slighted I am on IG that he told me to politely leave him alone because I was too persistent in getting too close. I would never relocate and uproot my life just to live near him in the hopes we bump into one another and fall desperately in love. 🙄

This is real life people, not a movie.

This kind of behaviour from Pedro's so-called fans is questionable, and frankly concerning to anyone with a sane mind.

I would also never bully or belittle anyone because their fan account is more popular than mine. I would never actively enforce or seek to enforce the deliberate closure of any fan accounts because I am petty or jealous.

Unfortunately this has happened and I am sorry to have heard about those who were affected by it - you did not deserve that.

Sadly, all these things have happened. For real. And it's utterly gross behaviour from, in most cases, fully grown women who are old enough to know better.

We are all here to enjoy and support Pedro, so why is that such a hard concept to grasp? Why does fandom have a toxic corner?

I'll tell you why.

Because thanks to social media, and platforms like Tumblr, it's all too easy to sit faceless behind a keyboard and do and say whatever you want, without any real consequence.

There are always a few bad eggs, in any fandom, who feel they are superior, that they know everything. That because they found a new image or a clip first that they are entitled to police everything. That they are entitled to dictate how fandom should be run.

I've got news for you; you're not.

Fandom is inclusive, sharing, a creative hub for ideas, inspiration. A place to forge friendships, relationships because you have common ground. The coming together of like-minded individuals to celebrate and endorse their admiration for their idol in a safe, non-threatening place.

A place for creativity to flow, for confidence in yourself to grow. To create original stories from canon, to create unique head canon because we don't want these lovable characters to die. To paint amazing pictures. To get excited over Pedro's new projects and discuss your favourites.

That's fandom. That's being a fan.

Being a fan doesn't mean creating, spreading, peddling or posting harmful material that 1) is frankly abhorrently disgusting and is not only insulting to Pedro, but also his family, his friends etc... and 2) could also be potentially damaging to his career.

I am referring to the vile deepfake of Pedro currently doing the rounds now on Tumblr because some idiot thought it was funny to clog up our timelines with it.

I don't want, or need, to see that, thanks.

And whoever created it originally should be fucking ashamed of themselves. I would wholly encourage you to report and block any accounts that have done this.

Imagine how you would feel if your face, your image was used and violated in that way.

You'd be outraged, right? Hurt? Sickened?

This kind of manipulation of AI is exactly what the WGA and SAG-AFTRA are concerned about and were/are striking for.

What Pedro is striking for, and then someone has the gall to pull this sickening stunt.

It's what artists are concerned about. What writers are concerned about. AI wasn't created to be abused in this way.

So, what makes you think that all this behaviour is acceptable to do to a man, who is nothing but generous and kind?

A man who would give you help, no questions asked, if he ran into you, in his own words:

And you have the audacity to call yourselves fans?

A man who, if he knew, what his "fans" do, I'm certain he would be absolutely disgusted and not condone any of it.

☝🏻Let me make it abundantly clear:

If you have looked for, deliberately searched for, posted, jerked off to, liked or shared that vile deepfake clip, video, pic - whatever the fuck it is - in any way then, YOU ARE NO FAN OF PEDRO PASCAL.

And I am certainly no fan of yours.

Do better. Don't be a dick.

[fatuismooches]

fabulam diu oblitus - prelude.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the first part of a multi-chaptered fic that became too long to put into one post. It is a telling of your and Dottore's life as a fairytale, with fragile reader because yes. Thank you to all of my followers and anons who helped me figure out the animals that should be used and especially my lovely moot @kaixserzz!

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

“Once upon a time, there was a baby raven. The raven was an inquisitive and curious hatchling who wanted to explore things that no one else had ever dared of. But because of his ideas, the raven was beaten, shunned, and cursed for the entirety of his childhood. Eventually, as soon as he reached adulthood, he was chased away from his nest, and from that day on, the raven swore to never trust a single soul ever again. But one day, the raven came across a sparrow, who seemed to love to challenge and test him at every possible moment.”

When Zandik was exiled from his hometown, he thought that he was prepared for what was to come, for he had experienced the worst of what humanity had to offer. He knew better than to give any other person the time of day and resolved himself to be cold and closed off. And he didn’t mind being that way, as everyone at the Akademiya was a sore, shallow disappointment. He wondered if anything of substance ever went through those brains of theirs. Ignoring his classmates had garnered him a poor reputation, but it didn’t bother Zandik too much as he was far more interested in his personal research.

That was until he met you.

You had barged into his life out of nowhere, much to his dismay, and invaded his space, now occupying one of the beds in the dorm. You had greatly sabotaged his workspace and time, as now he had to be conscious of what he worked on in your presence. He had to be careful in his own bedroom because of you. It was positively infuriating. But perhaps the most confusing and annoying thing was your attitude towards him. 

You were… kind. You would smile at him. You would inquire into his studies and research with supposedly genuine interest (he had yet to deduce whether you were being real or not.) You would cook for him and continued to do so even though he had yet to thank you for it. You would run errands for him willingly without any protest. You would shut down anyone talking shit about him immediately.

Zandik didn’t like it.

—

“Despite the sparrow’s kind nature, the raven couldn’t bring himself to accept it. It wasn’t unheard of for ravens to prey on sparrows, and at some moments, sometimes the raven wanted nothing more than to swallow up the sparrow so they wouldn’t be in his hair anymore. But there were no opportunities for the raven to do that, so he was forced to endure the sparrow’s presence. However, he came to realize that the sparrow had far more strengths than he initially gave them credit for. Over time, it blossomed into a most unique relationship, one that should have never been possible.”

Zandik wanted you gone. Your behavior didn’t sit quite right with him, for reasons that weren’t hard to guess. But there was nothing he could do. No amount of harsh words or bickering could seem to deter you. Surely you heard of the rumors? Of what he possibly could have done? Of what he could possibly do to you? And yet you insisted on sticking around, despite his vehement denial of your presence.

Although Zandik didn’t like you, that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate your usefulness. And more recently, your intelligence as well. You didn’t think like the other scholars at the Akademiya. You weren’t short-sighted or close-minded, you were always open to new ideas and discussions. You were willing to listen to him even while he was being rude and made zero sense, always having a notepad handy to write down his words. At first, Zandik thought you were mocking him, but a quick investigation into your notes made it clear that you were one hundred percent serious. 

Naturally, you didn’t think exactly like him either for obvious reasons, but it was… refreshing. That made you far more intelligent in his eyes than any other brain-dead scholar. Yet at the same time, your excessive kindness made him think you were painfully stupid. Especially when his cruel insults and ignorance didn’t drive you away, and at some point you had the audacity to start giggling at him whenever he did so. Very strange, stupid, and smart.

He had dubbed you an enigma. Indeed, you were puzzling and difficult to understand. Normally, he enjoyed the challenge when it came to stuff like ancient texts or questions that arrived from his research, however, he wasn’t sure if he liked these qualities in a person. He liked your curiosity but your personality made him feel things he didn’t want to. But much to his dread, even this scholar wasn’t totally immune to your sweet charms, and he was slowly but surely beginning to warm up to you.

—

“Against all odds, the raven and sparrow became one and the same. It seemed as though the two could not be separated.”

You were always sure it was going to be a long and arduous journey, becoming Zandik’s friend, but you were well aware of what you were getting yourself into. Though even you could not have anticipated how much Zandik would like you, despite it always being your goal. It started off gradually, and it took you a bit to realize his small changes toward you. 

Something you realized was that Zandik enjoyed being genuinely listened to. Perhaps because no one had lent him an ear, or even then never took what he said seriously. Perhaps he was mocked and shut down. So you listened. And he told you more, and more, and more every time. You could be doing your own thing, and Zandik would drag you away from it, under the premise that his work was far more important. The audacity! But you didn’t really mind, except the times he woke you up in the middle of the night to check over his conclusions. 

Even still, it was hard not to find his bursts of excitement and passion cute. It was hard not to find how he inhaled your cooking cute. It was hard not to find his little grunts of approval at your work or the reluctant compliment of “Good, I guess” cute. And oh, and don’t get you started on the way he blushed when you got a little too close, and then promptly told you to fuck off. Zandik was so cute. Unhinged. Not a good or nice person. Mean. But cute. 

Eventually came a time when Zandik stopped trying to get rid of you. He stopped locking you out of the dorm and he stopped throwing insults at you for merely existing with him. Instead came times when you two would “hang out” as you would put it. You’d teach him how to cook but uncharacteristically gave up after one lesson because he was truly that bad. You would do group projects together and then snicker to one another about how the other groups’ work paled in comparison. You two would go out together, initially for the purpose of research, but end up spending some time relaxing in the soft plush of the forest together. No words were said, but perhaps fingers and legs accidentally brushed each other every now and then.

These were good times, Zandik admitted to himself.

—

“Despite their blatant differences, the raven and sparrow seemed to fit together perfectly, wings and beaks tucked into each other effortlessly. Both had accepted each other for who they were, something no one else had done for either of them. Many years passed, and the two developed feelings for each other. However, neither of them was sure how to express their love.”

The good times lasted far, far longer than Zandik could have ever dreamed of. You had remained a constant in his life for many years. He could have never imagined you’d stick around nor would he tolerate your presence for so long. It was now that he realized that there would always be a vast amount of possibilities in this world, ones that he would never believe existed, but they certainly did. You were an example of that.

Another thing he realized was how differently his body and mind could react around you.

Zandik realized, that sometimes his palms could get hot around you. Not sweaty, but hot and tingly. It was a strange sensation. He realized, that when your skin came into contact with his, instead of feeling like he had just been scalded, he simply felt… warmth. Not the overbearing or underwhelming kind. It was just warm. The worst part was, he realized that on very few and rare occasions, his heart would speed up a bit and get stuck in his throat. It was horrible. Zandik despised it.

And his mind, his mind would unconsciously favor you. He would wonder, what time were you coming home? Did anyone bother you? When you didn’t understand something, his mind automatically went to the idea of explaining again (begrudgingly?) instead of leaving you hanging. He hated group projects even more now when they weren’t with you because his mind instinctively knew that other people simply could not hope to compare to you in the slightest. His mind grew in various ways over the years, but this particular aspect… he was confused. This part wasn’t necessarily a hindrance, but it was odd and he couldn’t control it. Zandik preferred to be in control, especially of his own body, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand. 

You, on the other hand, completely understood your own feelings as well as Zandik’s. There was no doubt about it. You were in love with Zandik. Zandik was in love with you. This was the irrefutable truth. You couldn’t determine exactly at what point he began to like you romantically, but you knew you had liked him for years. You were just glad the pining was mutual now because the feelings were starting to weigh heavy on your heart. But now, you found yourself in a plight.

How to finally confess to Zandik.

You really had no idea how to do it. If it was any normal person, you’d probably have an easier time. But no, this was Zandik, which made everything complicated. You had gone through multiple different scenarios in your head, and none of them seemed right. You thought about it, in the morning, during class, while eating, on expeditions, before bed. Yes, the procedure of making Zandik your boyfriend was occupying your mind far more than it should be, embarrassingly enough.

Zandik noticed your continuous contemplative state of mind as well. He wasn’t much of a fan. No, not at all. Did you realize how much of a nuisance it was to be explaining or giving instructions to you and then find out you’re staring into space (which coincidentally happens to be his face) instead? And then he has to snap at you to pay attention and instead, you just give him a silly smile? It was nonsensical. At some point, Zandik had decided this had gone on far too long and demanded you tell him what had occupied your mind so much that it turned you into an airhead. Unfortunately, it was mostly unsuccessful as you two only had a little back-and-forth, with you defending that you were just tired lately and Zandik calling you out on that bullshit. But he let it go.

Was he worried? No, of course not. It was just that having his assistant’s mind not focused on him was entirely bothersome.

… Alright perhaps he was a little worried. Just a little. He didn’t like it when you were troubled.

—

“But thankfully, the sparrow found a moment to show their true feelings. Was it the perfect moment? No, perhaps not. But it became one. And amazingly enough, the odd duo had become an odd couple.”

It was the most average of nights. Really, incredibly average. The two of you were stuck on the floor doing a group project for the past few nights. It was a lot of work, meant for a group of people, but of course, you and Zandik refused to add anyone else to the group, so now you two had been grinding the work together for a while. But neither of you minded. It really was much easier with the two of you anyway.

Right now, Zandik was rambling on about what to add and what to do next and the comparisons and contrasting of the data and a variety of other things. Normal Zandik things, as he pointed and waved his hands to make his point. But all of his words entered one ear and came out the next for you. You were far too busy admiring his beauty.

Zandik didn’t notice your adoring stare, no, of course, he was too caught up in his rambling, but that was okay. You didn’t know what came over you, but an impulsive thought to just make him see came over you. To taste him. To let him taste you. To let him realize the depth of your feelings. To let him realize the extent of his own feelings too.

And so for the first time ever, you cupped Zandik’s cheek, to which his words came to an abrupt stop. He practically swiveled his head around to give you one of those signature looks of his, and he had your hand that was on his cheek in a tight grip around your wrist, nails digging into your skin as an automatic response to such blatant physical touch. It hurt, but that was when you took the opportunity.

After all, it was hard to focus on the pain when his lips were on yours. 

You were kissing Zandik, who was immediately practically screaming into your lips, along the muffled lines of “whadahelareyodoigmph?” And you would have chuckled at his reaction, were it not for how entranced you were by kissing him. It seemed, that after the initial shock, Zandik piped down and also began to process what was happening. He didn’t fight back. He didn’t move away. His grip on your wrist loosened, and you took the chance to intertwine your fingers with his instead before pulling away in satisfaction. Zandik’s face was red and his lip quivered in a half-hearted scowl, probably cursing both you and himself because of the fact he enjoyed a mere kiss that much. But he wasn’t the only one affected. Your own heart was hammering out of your chest as you tried to stop yourself from smiling too widely.

“You know, I’ve…” you paused, trying to control your heartbeat, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” So this was what was occupying that idiot mind of yours, Zandik thinks. How stupid.

Zandik's eyes flickered to yours, bearing a half-hearted glare, and they only said one thing: oh, he hated how easily you made him feel disgustingly weak, and how his fingers tremble in anticipation when you’re near, and how his heart beats far too much for what’s to come next, but oh, he demands that you do it again right now before he goes mad. So you did. You kissed Zandik again, and this time he kissed back.

His pointy teeth grazed your lip as he awkwardly kissed back, clearly unsure of what he was doing. But that was okay. You were probably his first kiss, after all, the idea of doing such a thing with anyone was revolting to him. Before he fell in love with you, of course. Well, this was your first kiss too, but you had read enough books to know what you were doing. You caressed his hair, gently rubbed his arms, and perhaps pushed him down on the bed a bit. It was very nice, to have years of feelings condensed into these kisses.

Neither of you said anything for the rest of the night after the kissing session, the group project now long forgotten. Except when you squeaked in pain since he had the gall to bite down on your lip, then swipe your bloody lip with his tongue deviously. You should have known that Zandik being inexperienced in something only lasts for a short time.

When you two finally went to sleep, Zandik allowed it when you climbed into his bed and delicately placed a hand on his chest, cuddling into him.

—

“The sparrow and raven’s romantic partnership began just like that. Nothing else needed to be said. In all honesty, nothing had changed much between the two who had been friends for years, except for the addition of an overwhelming amount of affection from the sparrow towards the raven.”

You and Zandik were dating now. It was truly a dream come true. Truly a dreamlike moment to randomly kiss his cheek and then watch him become a mixture of flustered and angry at you for doing such things. Truly a dreamlike moment to be able to squeeze his hand under the table when people were talking about him. Truly a dreamlike moment to be able to hold him and caress him all over, to watch his face as he received the love he never received as a child. And truly a… laughable moment as he familiarized himself with holding you, which took much work and effort. 

It was fine though. You were positive your relationship would endure throughout any kind of struggle.

—

“Though, like any kind of relationship, the two sometimes encountered a few bumps and turns that would perhaps set them back. But, these problems never lasted too long because… the sparrow and the raven had unusual ways of solving their problems sometimes.”

Zandik wasn’t very strong. Smart, a definite yes, but his physical abilities weren’t anything special, which was why you took it upon yourself to fight whenever the need arose. So when he came back to the dorms one day with hastily wrapped bandages and cuts and bruises, naturally you were extremely worried.

“Who did this?” He didn’t respond to you as he made his way to the bathroom and you quickly followed after. Zandik was digging through the cabinet for more medical supplies, the previous bandages now lying on the floor.

“Zandik,” you murmured. You knew that people didn’t like him, but you didn’t think it would go to such a physical extent. Most people had the common sense to leave him alone or merely talk about him instead. But now that you thought about it, you had an idea of who it could be. Ugh, those fools from the recent expedition. When Zandik exposed their faulty and false research in front of everyone with ease, they seemed to grow some kind of grudge against him. 

“Zandik, let me see.”

“There’s no need.” You watched as he roughly treated the wounds, his emotions clearly showing in his actions.

“Zandik, I can-”

“I said no,” your lover harshly snapped, gritting his teeth. He was trying to stop himself from saying anything else because he could say things he didn’t mean when he was in this kind of mood.

“Okay then,” you acquiesced and let him be. As much as you wanted to comfort him, it wasn’t a good time now. You needed to give him some space first. But at least when you left the dorm, you had a goal in mind.

You didn’t return until it was pitch black outside, and similarly, all the lights in the dorm’s building were off, so you wandered through the darkness until you reached your room. Ah, the door was unlocked too. Zandik must have left it open for you. You just hoped you didn’t get any blood on the doorknob.

The room was dark. Zandik probably went to sleep early. You went straight to the bathroom to clean up. After all, your hands and clothes were all icky with the blood of your classmates. Flipping on the light and looking at yourself in the mirror, you examined yourself. Good thing you weren’t wearing a nice outfit. And your face, not a single scratch of course. They couldn’t lay a hand on you and they wouldn’t be laying a hand on Zandik ever again.

“Where were you?” The sudden voice nearly made you jump. Zandik was at the doorway. So he was awake.

“Oh, Zandik. Hello. I was simply out with my friends, you know?” You gave him a reassuring smile. Obviously, the scholar knew that was a complete lie. He knew what you had done, he just had trouble understanding why. And how too.

Zandik came up to you and grabbed your hands, surprising you. His watchful eyes checked them thoroughly, the blood not bothering him in the slightest. You were truly unharmed. If you weren’t, he would have done something a lot worse than what you did.

“What, are you worried?” You teased. He seemed to be feeling better. Zandik only huffed in response.

“Why would you do that? Now the Akademiya is going to be behind your back.” Classic Zandik, using negativity to mask his appreciation.

“No, they won’t. Our little friends got beaten up by some Eremites instead. They told me so themselves,” you giggled almost a little crazily at his expression. “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Zandik.”

“Even so, it was,” he paused for a quick second to think, “a fruitless waste of time. You could have been helping me instead.” Again, you couldn’t help but laugh at his words. It would really kill him to be truthful for once, huh?

“Look,” you placed both your bloody hands over his own. “You are my boyfriend, are you not?” You cocked your head to the side, waiting for a response to which he nodded. “Precisely. So by that logic, I am yours, and you are mine. And naturally, I like to take care of things that are mine. Especially if that happens to be my brilliant blue-haired scholar,” you smiled. Perhaps you seemed a touch bit possessive. But this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, no, you two belonged to each other after all. Zandik didn’t respond but he unconsciously gripped your hands a little bit tighter.

“Just make sure no one sees you doing the laundry,” he huffed.

“Yes, love~,” you pressed a kiss on his cheek to which he made another grumble but made no effort to stop you. After you two got cleaned up, a restful and peaceful sleep came naturally.

—

“Underneath the moon and stars, the two shared years' worth of memories, touches, and love. Though even the moon couldn’t quite understand this seemingly impossible couple, it still bore witness to their endeavors every night without fail. But one day, tragedy struck. The sparrow fell sick to a terrible illness.”

Your relationship with Zandik had become one of the highlights of your life. Perhaps it seemed like you were too crazed for the man, but what was love if you two weren’t a bit crazy for each other? Your life was truly a joy with this grouchy and easily irritable scholar who went a wee bit soft at affection. Well, that was if you excluded the few ailments you had come down with recently.

It started small at first. 

Seemingly minor things affected you. Perhaps a painful throb in your head that wouldn’t seem to go away, but you passed it off as the stresses of exams and school. Aches and pains when you moved your body, but maybe it was just from sleeping in awkward positions because you kept passing out in the middle of the night after pulling yet another all-nighter with Zandik. Sometimes you felt unusually cold, or perhaps hotter than normal. But you thought it was nothing too big, maybe something was going around in the Akademiya.

That’s what Zandik thought too… at first. You were a strong person, no stranger to fighting whether it was people or Ruin Drakes. You would bounce back. In fact, in the beginning, he thought you were overdramatizing your pain. Groaning and whining and clinging to him in an attempt to convince him to stay in the dorms today instead of going out on this expedition. Of course, he shook you off and rolled his eyes, telling you to hurry up. He didn’t miss the tiny sigh you let out, and the slight twinge in his chest but that was quickly washed over by the thought that you were simply milking your unwell condition in an effort to gain more of his attention. 

He didn’t miss how you were much quieter than usual, leaving his voice to fill the silence as you two walked. He didn’t miss your slow and tired steps, to which you had to ask for him to slow down which he begrudgingly did. And he certainly did not miss when you tripped and nearly fell were it not for him catching you in time.

Zandik was about to scold you for your carelessness but the words died on his tongue at your expression. Dulled eyes and pants, your chest heaving up and down due to the strain. You swallowed before your eyes sparked back to life again, seemingly recovering from that little fall. 

“Sorry,” you smiled at him with a hint of nervousness. “Guess I didn’t get enough sleep.” Yeah, you went to sleep a bit late last night, but it wasn’t a three AM kind of night. It was rather earlier than usual, to be honest. So you really weren’t sure why your body was acting like this. Zandik looked at you, silent and unimpressed, but you think he bought it. After that, you tried to return to your normal chirpy self despite the throbbing of your head. You were saved by the fact that this expedition was only examining plants and fauna for a class instead of the normal expeditions you and Zandik carry out.

It did not get better from then. Zandik surely noticed from the way his usual rude comments gradually turned into silence and quiet help at your genuine condition. He wasn’t stupid. He could tell that you were being real. But it all boiled over one afternoon.

You wanted to ignore your deteriorating state badly. You wanted to pretend that it didn’t exist. If you admitted it to yourself, then everything would be over. For what good were you when you were stuck in bed all day? Not just to yourself, but to Zandik as well? You knew he would never leave you, wouldn’t ever hate you but… still, it bothered and worried you more than you liked to admit. So whenever it was possible, you did some tasks for your lover.

Today’s errand was simple. You’d done it multiple times before. You just had to retrieve some parts Zandik ordered (legally, this time) and bring them back to the dorm. And you had done just that… only with a minor hiccup. Yes, it was only a small setback, being pushed and shoved by some of your classmates who didn’t like you or Zandik. Yes, it was just an insignificant occurrence, your body too weak to fight back and put them in their place like you normally did. And since it was so trivial, you didn’t want Zandik to know. So when you got back to the dorm, you put on your smiling face and acted oblivious, handing your boyfriend the purchase and then scurrying to the bathroom. 

Not to mention, there were some scuffs and marks on your uniform. They looked to be only minor, but Zandik still noticed them immediately. Your uniform was crisp and pristine before you left, after all. And whenever you got into an altercation, you’d tell him every time. This time, however, seemed different. Now that you looked back, you were pretty damn obvious, but your knees were hurting really bad.

The scholar waited a few moments before waiting outside the bathroom door, listening in. What he heard were whines and grunts of pains, and then something falling supposedly from the cabinet, and then a string of curses from you. You were definitely hurt.

“[Name].” His tone was flat and serious, and immediately all noise from the bathroom became nonexistent.

“…Yes?” That tone of voice. You were guilty of something.

“I’m coming in,” he didn’t bother giving you a grace period despite your sputters of protest. Zandik found you near the sink, only in your undergarments, Akademiya uniform discarded to the hamper, now stained with small patches of blood. Knees and elbows scraped and bloody. Instinctively you moved your heads to cover your elbows at least, in an attempt to minimize the severity of the situation… which didn’t really work.

“Oh… hey Zandik!” You smiled nervously. “See this,” you motioned to your injuries, “I just tripped and fell again. No big deal!” You had a good and believable excuse. It was just that your execution of it was really bad and your boyfriend could see through you easily. But he didn’t need you to tell the truth, he already had a hunch as to what happened. Plus, if you truly had fell, the gashes wouldn’t have been so deep.

“...” Zandik seemed expressionless as he went behind you and grabbed the bandages and the necessary supplies to disinfect it, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the bed. You opened your mouth to argue but closed it again, probably realizing there was no getting out of this. It was eerily quiet as Zandik uncharacteristically treated your wounds with more care than usual. Most of the time, he was rough with it as he scolded you for being dumb, rolling his eyes as you chastised him for being so mean. This time, however, most of the sting was from the liquid cleaning the wound. He finally wrapped the bandage neatly around your knees and elbows, before he broke the silence.

“You’re not leaving the dorm tomorrow.” You snapped your head up at this statement.

“Excuse me? Yes, I-”

“No, you’re not. You’re staying in bed.”

“You can’t decide that for me. I can go where I-”

“Not when you’re like this,” he bluntly stated. It was harsh, but it was the truth, and you knew it. But hearing it like that hurt, even though you knew this was Zandik’s way of looking out for you.

The room was quiet again since you couldn’t argue any further.

And so, you had decided to take a break from going to classes for a while. Well, it was more like Zandik had decided that for you, his words being that it would be a great inconvenience for both of you if you continued to act like this, and so he confined you to bed rest and refused to let you leave. Sure, his expeditions would have to be delayed, he lamented, but it would be a waste of time to go when you weren’t in tip-top shape. So stop being an idiot and fighting him and rest already. You know, Zandik’s typical way of being worried. He even took the time to teach you everything, and of course, keep you updated on how shitty the professors were.

So now, your days consisted of resting in the dorm, sometimes doing homework that Zandik brought home, or your own hobbies. But you did feel bad. You didn’t like sitting around and doing nothing all day long when Zandik had to be by himself now. If you were going to be stuck in the dorm all day, the least you could do is tidy up a bit. And of course, cook for the two of you.

Cooking and sometimes even baking were things you liked, but it became one of your favorite things because of Zandik. It sounded strange, but you liked seeing him well-fed and not living off of his inedible cooking. Today you would make… shawarma wraps. Yes, you were in the mood for that today. And so you got to work preparing and cutting the ingredients. The only problem was… your hands were far more shaky than you wanted them to be. The knife quivered in your hands and now the vegetables were being cut weirdly.

Indeed, it had been harder to steady your hands nowadays, so you tried to go for easier food to prepare. But you really wanted to eat some shawarma wraps today,  so you continued on. If you just focus your hand, then surely the knife would just-

…And now, there was blood spurting onto the countertop and dripping on the floor. Just great. It was like nothing would go your way ever again once you came down with this mysterious illness. You blinked back tears the whole time you clumsily wrapped the cut and cleaned the kitchen. 

It was a horrible feeling really, to suddenly be unable to do things that were once so easy. To have things you once loved doing feel like a daunting chore now. No matter how hard you tried to avoid thinking about your illness, it felt like it was consuming your life now. You didn’t want it to start defining you… but it hurt. So badly, that you didn’t even bother putting up your usual cheerful front that evening. Zandik took one look at your hand and could deduce what happened. He would have scolded you, were it not for your terribly gloomy expression.

Once again, in pure silence, he redressed your wound (which was poorly wrapped by your unsteady hands.) You didn’t want to speak, nor did you want Zandik to speak. You didn’t want any pity or reprimanding right now. You quietly rested your head on his shoulder, requesting nothing more.

—

“From then on, the little sparrow’s condition only went on a downward spiral. It seemed like no amount of rest and medication could hope to help them recover. Slowly, it seemed like they were becoming a shell of their former self… quiet, tired, and closed off. The raven could only watch as his beloved grew farther… and farther… and more distant from him in more ways than one. In fact, it would be more fitting to call the sparrow a butterfly now. Butterflies are beautiful, but transient. They are truly a joy to admire, but if one gets attached, they will only end up in a world of pain as the butterfly leaves them far too soon.”

You had long given up on classes and work. The assignments Zandik brought home were piled up in a corner. Just looking at them made you feel exhausted. You tried to do some every now and then, but how could you focus on school when you felt like you were physically and mentally deteriorating with every passing day? Though, many had no sympathy for your current predicament which was why you found yourself in your current predicament.

Kicked out of the Akademiya. How embarrassing. Yes, you were not joking. They had a letter of expulsion delivered right to your door for being absent and missing too many assignments, and an order to pack all your belongings and leave within a week. You were not very surprised and kind of accepted it. Zandik on the other hand, had a few choice words for the messenger, before slamming the door with a bang. He was much more wildly upset about this than you were, a spew of curses directed towards a multitude of people in the Akademiya came flying out his mouth. He wouldn’t accept this, he said. But both you and him knew there was nothing to be done, especially since they would never listen to an outcast such as himself. So in due time, you found yourself admitted to Sumeru’s local hospital. Zandik’s expression was grim, which you tried to change.

“I know you’re going to miss cuddling up to me at night, dearest,” you teased in an effort to lighten up the mood. “Don’t miss me too much!” Zandik, however, did not have the slightest reaction, which made your smile dim.

“Hey,” your tone dropped a bit. “Don’t look so glum. Otherwise, you’re really going to make me think you can’t live without me.” This particular tease made his eye twitch.

Zandik scoffed, “You overestimate yourself. I am not so helpless that I would need you to be near me at all times. Furthermore, I suggest you be ready for when you come back. We have a lot of work to catch up on.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Oh, how perfect it was, despite all the changes in your life, Zandik never changes, does he? With his harsh words veiled with some kindness underneath, a silent promise to you that he will make you better and you will be healthy again in no time.

“Of course, of course, love. I promise I’ll be ready to be worked to the bone by you after all of this,” you smiled softly. Zandik rolled his eyes, but at that moment, everything felt like it was going to be okay.

And it… kind of was, for a while. If you ignore the whole context of the situation. You were surprised to see Zandik make time for you every day to visit you in your dreary hospital room, but he did. He would bring you things sometimes, books or puzzles so that your brain wouldn’t get bored. The hospital staff were initially on guard at his presence every day, for his reputation had spread even beyond the Akademiya, but they got used to him after many repeated visits. 

Zandik, on the other hand, didn’t realize how much different you made his life until you were actually gone. He told himself that he could deal with it, that he had done it long before he ever met you, so he would be fine.

He wasn’t.

No longer could he bask in you and everything that came with you. Your brains, your intelligence, your strength, your efficiency, your productivity, your voice, your smile, your laughs, your horrible jokes, your touch, your cuddles, your body - you, you, you. No longer could he call for you and you would be there in an instant, arms swung around his shoulders. No longer could he fall victim to being the taste tester for your new recipes. No longer could he consume your very being… it was driving him mad. He despised how you weren’t at your rightful place at his side.

And he despised how dull your eyes had gotten. For the first few weeks, it was “normal” at least. You’d still be excited to see him. Listen to him. Converse with him. Beg him to stop trying to cook again and just buy takeout. “Normal” things. But now, it was very different. You never outright ignored his presence but, you were far more distant. Barely speaking full sentences, save for the “mhm” and “uh huh” that sounded more forced than anything. Not even mustering the energy to reach out to him or brush your fingers against his You had asked for your bed to be placed right next to a window, and every time he visited, you were in the same position. Staring out the window longingly, gazing down at the city.

And there was nothing Zandik could do. There were no words he could say, no amount of comfort he could provide that would somehow make things better. No, the only thing he could do was solve the issue itself. He was best at that anyway, the scholar and researcher in him paying off. The Akademiya’s libraries were overtaken by him, day and night. No medical text went unread by him. He looked for answers during class lectures. During meals, during the early hours of the morning, and depths of the night. He looked and looked and looked without rest.

But one day, Zandik realized that perhaps he hadn’t taken things seriously enough.

He arrived at your hospital room like any other day, only to see a few nurses crowded around you, fussing and worrying to each other until they saw him, visibly stiffening. It was then his eyes flicked down to your body, which looked… oddly lifeless and unmoving. His brain figured out what this meant before his heart did. One already knew what happened while the other didn’t want to accept it.

“Err…” The nurse fiddled with her clipboard, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news, especially to one such as Zandik, “As of today, [Name] has fallen into a coma…” He couldn’t pay attention to the rest of her words. 

The whole world went silent to him at that moment. Everything around him did, as he could only focus on your figure.

—

“With the sparrow now asleep with no signs of waking up, the raven uncharacteristically found himself at a loss.”

Zandik decided it was time to occupy himself with other activities. Like the hospital in the desert he worked at, treating, or rather experimenting on the patients there. It was for a number of reasons. Staying in the empty dorm room without you bothering him every couple of minutes was beginning to drive him more than just mad. Going to the hospital to be greeted by your sleeping body provided nothing but a flurry of negative emotions in him. To curve his growing curiosity and thirst for knowledge. And although Eleazar wasn’t what you were afflicted with, perhaps studying it could provide some insight. 

It was entirely morbid, cruel, and unethical, whatever word one wanted to say would probably fit the bill. Using corpses as material for “medicine”, driving his last remaining patient mad. Yet there was no part of him that felt guilty. That felt bothered. In the end, all he could think about was how satisfying the results of this experiment were. He cured Eleazar. Perhaps he could cure your illness too. Zandik was, in fact, excited.

Zandik continued to visit you every single day to check on you. It wasn’t like the staff cared much at this point. It was then he started keeping dedicated notes on your condition. He wasn’t much of a doctor nor was he experienced in the medical field, but the Akademiya’s library had proven to be more useful than he thought.

He took your vitals. Your heart rate. Temperature. Everything. Everyday. This time he injected you with what he hoped would cure and wake you up. Nothing. There was zero reaction internally and externally. It was a failure. It was frustrating.

Zandik, as a child, was used to being rejected. He never got what he wanted. Which was why as an adult, he made sure he acquired everything he wanted. Regardless of what, why, or how, nothing would stop him. And now that he was hitting that same block again, no matter how hard he tried, he was starting to seriously get irritated. Not at you, but at himself. This happened before, but this time there was also the fact he didn’t have your inquisitive mind or soothing presence to make him feel better.

Not to mention there was also Sohreh. Initially, he managed to tolerate her thanks to your coaching, but now that he had so many things to deal it, he found it harder and harder to deal with the Amurta. She was also the only one who had the decency to send condolences for your current situation, though he brushed her off before she could even get the words out. Yet by some annoying twist of fate, the girl kept popping up randomly around him, whether that was expeditions or group projects together.

When Zandik found his hands around her neck, he wasn’t surprised at himself. He didn’t feel anything at all, actually. On the same day, he went to visit your sleeping body and traced your veins with the same hands that killed your classmate. He wondered if you would feel any different to him if you knew what he’d done. If you would perhaps leave him. From how deeply you were sleeping, it seemed like he would never receive that answer though.

The days that followed were nothing noteworthy unless Zandik’s further spiral into madness and experimentation for both your sake and his innate desire were to be described in-depthly. Soon enough, he was banished from the Akademiya and into the desert. Despite his dislike for that place, it was a hindrance as he still needed somewhere to conduct research… and your body was still in a Sumerian hospital. But no matter, he’d make do.

It was then he met a gray-haired Khaenri’ahn man who offered him something that was too good to pass up and bestowed a name upon him.

Doctor? He was obviously no doctor. At least not one that helps people. Quite the opposite. If you were here, surely you would be laughing and cackling along with him at the irony of that name. But Zandik liked the ring of it.

And so Il Dottore was born. He just wished you were here to see it.

—

“Many, many centuries went by, and the raven progressed with his research in all areas and became akin to a God himself. However, his sparrow remained in a deep sleep and he could only watch as he failed to help his slumbering beloved.”

Dottore was now a man of many feats. To list them all would take a large amount of time, and the only person who would be willing to sit and listen was you. And you kind of did in a way, because for centuries, your sleeping body would be the first one to know about anything. Dottore would tell you of his accomplishments, his failures and successes, his useless co-workers, and how no one could ever compare to the assistant you were to him. And how despite the fact there was no doubt that his research and progress were entirely fulfilling, there was still a distinct emptiness and boredom in his life that only a certain someone could satisfy.

He wasn’t the only one who felt that way. The same conversation was exchanged between him and a segment every day:

“Are there any updates on [Name]’s condition?”

“No, nothing to report, Prime.”

The segments too would bemoan about the situation and wonder when you would wake up. Yet there was nothing that could be done. Countless resources and time had been exhausted on you, yet he had nothing to show for it. The only solution was to wait for you to open your eyes on your own, however long that may take. Dottore would undoubtedly wait though, what was a few more centuries, after all?

—

“But one day, a miracle happened. The bird woke up from their eternal rest, utterly confused and lost.”

Nahida rubbed her eyes and stretched out her body. To think that was only the beginning part of the fairytale! It was truly a long tale, yes, the one of Zandik and [Name]. Yet every part of it was intriguing and left her on the edge of her seat. And what better storytelling was it than to leave it on a cliffhanger?

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 1

~~~

Author’s Note: I have barely been writing anything (I usually write for the Good Omens fandom) since I started playing BG3, but then a few days ago I felt compelled to start on *something* for this fandom that has completely taken over my mind. I usually post on AO3 but for some reason I wanted to post a first teaser-chapter here on Tumblr.

So here it is, my first (unbeta’d) venture into the BG3 fandom. I have no idea where this is going except that the endgame is a happy ending for Tav and Astarion.

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (Mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking

Summary: You thought knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… Now you do.

~~~

You watch him laugh as Shadowheart leans closer to whisper something in his ear, and the unwarranted jealousy that has your chest aching leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He may be sharing your bed now and then, but you have no right to him. For all you know, he might be spending his other nights with each and everyone in your camp. And that is his prerogative; pretty words aside, Astarion has never promised you anything other than fantastic sex.

A bitter smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You are sure he thinks he has you wrapped around his finger. That he has convinced you that this means more to him than it actually does. The sigh leaves your lips before you can stop it, but it doesn’t really matter, because none of the others hear you, too busy listening to Gale regaling another story about his ex.

Annoyed with yourself you rise, an excuse prepared on your tongue in case anyone questions your departure from the merriment. The lie remains unspoken and you’re relieved when you can slink into the shadows unnoticed. Relieved, but also perhaps a bit sad. It’s funny, you’ve spent most of your life aiming for anonymity, to stay under the radar. The unexpected friendships you’ve made since the kidnapping has unravelled all of that. Have made you aware of the dark and empty space in your heart you’ve successfully ignored until now.

Except it isn’t empty anymore.

It happened gradually, and without your permission. A dashing pale rogue stealing your affection when you weren’t looking. Because yes, while you know that his only reason for talking his way into your bed was manipulation, he has unintentionally shown you glints of his real self during your time together. He’s a complicated mess, just like yourself, and you love him. Love everything about him, even though it hurts.

So maybe he has you wrapped around his finger after all, because if you had any sense, you would end this thing between you. You should, but you are a selfish being. One day Astarion will realise that he doesn’t need to use sex to feel safe with you, but until that day comes, you will greedily accept every scrap of attention he gives you.

“Pathetic.”

“Talking to yourself, darling? Or have you made another furry friend when I wasn’t looking?” Astarion gracefully — why is that even when he’s pleasantly drunk, the elf manages to appear graceful? — sits down next to you in the grass. “You already have three of them in the camp, surely that’s enough?”

“Three?” You try to gather your thoughts, but it’s difficult when he is this close to you. “Scratch, the owlbear cub, and…?”

“Halsin, of course.”

“Of course,” you repeat dumbly. True, the druid was in his bear form when you first met, but something in Astarion’s demeanour makes you suspect that that isn’t what he meant. Images of Astarion undressing Halsin floods your mind. Halsin is a handsome and powerful man, so it would make sense for Astarion to seduce him too. Just like he had with you.

“Why are we sitting here, by the way?” Astarion shifts to lean on one hand, his face tilted back to take in the full moon. “Wanted a more romantic setting than your tent this time, darling?”

Oh. So you are the chosen one for the night. You were certain it would be Shadowheart, considering.

“Are you alright, Tav?”

For a moment you let yourself believe that the hesitation you hear in his voice is founded on genuine concern. That he truly cares beyond the deep-seated need for self-preservation ingrained in him. But the illusion can only last so long. You know enough of his history not to hold his actions against him, but right now you’re not in a headspace to pretend that everything is fine. And yet, you try.

“Of course I am.” You hold back a flinch when you hear the acid lacing your words like a toxin. It gives too much away, so you do the only thing you can think of. Your hands are already grabbing fabric before you have finished your thought, pulling him closer before he has time to examine your statement too closely. Before he can figure out your lie.

The night air is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the hot mouth claiming yours. You might regret it tomorrow, but right now, this is exactly what you need. In Astarion’s arms, you can forget everything but him and what he gives you. Around other people he can seem petty and cruel, but when he’s with you like this… this is different.

Or least that’s what you tell yourself. You cling to the illusion that this is special, and you succeed — until you feel yourself leaning your head to the side, offering your neck.

Astarion doesn’t ask it of you, he never does. It’s always you that wordlessly gives him what you believe is what he truly wants.

And this time it reminds you that deep down, this is just a transactional act for Astarion. Nothing else. He doesn’t care about you, not really.

After you’re both sated, you drift off to sleep without meaning to. It has been a taxing day, both physically and mentally, and the last thing you see is Astarion looking down at you with an indiscernible expression in his red eyes. Almost as if you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. Except that doesn’t make any sense, because to you it feels like he saw right through you the first time you met.

Some time later, you’re vaguely aware of strong arms lifting you from the damp grass. You must’ve made some noise, because you feel a warm breath against your ear.

“Hush, my darling, you don’t want the others to wake up.”

Exhaustion drags you back under, and when you next wake up, you’re in your tent. Alone.

~~~

[f0point5]

(I’m) charming and endearing, and (un)comfortable

Written companion piece to the Lando x fakegirlfriend!reader social media au

Set after Part 6, at the dinner with Lando’s dad that is mentioned.

A/N: So, those of you who were here for the Max fix know that I do long form writing exercises to get more of a feel for the characters for the smau. I didn’t share the Max ones while the fic was ongoing because my writing is not my favourite, but I do like providing more of an insight into the real life stuff that isn’t covered in the smau and especially the reader’s thoughts. And I like this is kind of needed for this smau especially. So, I’m not going to tag anyone in these so that if you’d rather just read the smau you don’t get caught up with these, but you can read them if you want more of an insight into the reader’s character. If you hate it…just pretend it never happened 🫠🫣

“You look fine,” you tell your reflection, staring at it right in the eyes.

Your gaze flits down to your simple black satin slip dress. Black Amina Muadi heels peek out from the hem. Single, but elegant, you think.

You look fine.

“You look fine.” You tell your reflection one more time, and she looks like she believes you.

Of course you look fine. You wouldn’t have a career if you didn’t. People have paid obscene amounts of money for your face and your body. You know exactly how much Lando Norris has paid. You put together something that accentuates your shape a bit but not so much that his dad would think you’re trying.

You haven’t met a parent in a while. Once you’d started shooting womenswear at 15, parents were rarely around, though occasionally you would run into an overbearing mother. You can’t remember ever meeting anyone’s father.

Your alarm rings, so it’s too late to change now. Steeling yourself with one last deep breath, you go over to the interconnecting door and knock.

On the other side of the door, something bangs, and then someone grunts, and you’re about to just give up on this whole idea before the door wings open to reveal a panting Lando Norris.

He’s dressed in beige chinos and a black polo shirt, showing off a golden tan. Okay, you’d let Twitter win this one; he’s beautiful.

“I thought you were going to-“ he starts, but then stops himself. You suppose he assumed you’d knock on the external door. “Never mind,”

“So,” you gesture to the space between you.

“Oh, yeah, come in,” he says, stepping aside to let you into his suite.

It’s huge. You survey the large living room. Several pairs of chinos sit in dry cleaning plastic on the couch. The remains of a fruit platter sits on the dining table. Two sets of golf clubs rest precariously on a wall in the corner. He’s a bit of a slob.

“What?” He asks you. You turn to him, surprised to find his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Nothing,” you shake your head and shrug, but he doesn’t stop studying you. He’s making an effort not to be obvious, but he’s assessing you from head to toe. It makes you squirm. “It’s okay? The look?”

His eyes widen. “The look’s incredible,” he says quickly, probably embarrassed you caught him looking. His cheeks turn even more red. “You’re-“

“Okay, we can go?” You cut him off, smoothing you already sleek up-do. He should turn the damn air conditioning on.

Lando motions for you to go ahead of him to the door and he trails behind you until he hurries past you to get the door. You head to the lift in silence, hair on the back of your neck prickling every time you feel his eyes linger on you.

You look fine. He would have told you if you didn’t.

“Thanks again for doing this,” he says, when you’re in the lift. You glance at him, finding him already looking at you with a shy smile that would have any woman on her knees right there.

You shrug. “It’s not a problem.”

“Probably not your idea of a fun evening,” he continues, and you wonder if he’s trying to convince you to call it off and go back upstairs.

“I was going to eat from the restaurant anyway.” You say, watching as he yawns. “You’re tired?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Two sessions today. And quali always take a lot out of me, you know,”

You hum in response.

“I, uh,” he stops himself, and then notices you’re looking at him, so he sighs before continuing. “I actually did pretty well. At quali. Better than I thought I would, anyway. It’s…” he trails off, scratching at the back of his neck.

He looks sort of embarrassed to have even mentioned it. You almost give in and tell him you watched the qualifying live while doing your post flight skincare, but you don’t. You’re not sure why exactly, it just feels like you’d be committing to something, and don’t want to do that.

“Congratulations,” is all you end up saying, and then it’s back to silence.

When you get downstairs, three separate groups of girls ask for pictures with him. You stand aside awkwardly, watching the way these strangers lean into him and eagerly put their arms around him and stand so close. It makes your skin crawl. Lando doesn’t react to it. But then, you never do, either.

He apologises for the interruption and you wave it off, embarrassed that he might have noticed your discomfort. It’s not your business.

Inside the restaurant, Lando gently directs you towards a table by the window where his dad is waiting. You’d googled him, so you knew what he liked like, but the photos didn’t do justice to the serenity that rolls off this man in waves.

He stands when he sees you, opening his arms to his son. Lando steps into his embrace with no hesitation, and you wonder if that’s why he’s not bothered so much by the closeness of strangers. Maybe you wouldn’t mind being touched if anyone had ever touched you like that.

When they part, you pull your lips into a smile and step forward.

“Good evening, Mr. Norris. I’m Y/N,”

Adam’s wide smile falters for a second. “Of course I know that,” he says with a chuckle, beckoning you over. You oblige, and he leans in to kiss you on both cheeks. “Who wouldn’t recognise his son’s girlfriend, eh? And please, call me Adam,”

“D’accord.” When both men raise an eyebrow, you explain, “it means okay,”

“Ah,” Adam says with a sage nod, sitting down.

You startle when Lando pulls your chair out for you, flashing him what you hope is a grateful look rather than a confused one.

“I learnt French all through school but I’ve forgotten it all, unfortunately,” Adam says.

“I got the duolingo for it, but it’s harder than you think,” Lando chips in.

“Surely Y/N could teach you,”

“I’m too strict for him,” you joke, forcing yourself not to react when you feel Lando rest his arm on the back of your chair.

“Is that so,” Adam says, catching your eye.

You know the looks he’s giving you. It’s the look a casting director gets when they meet you and you aren’t quite what they asked for. That look they get in their eyes as they decide if you’re a good enough compromise is the same one Adam Norris is giving you now.

He’s the worst kind of casting director - the type that will try to make small talk as if they don’t have your life in numbers printed out in front of them; the type to make you laugh so they can judge the shade and angle of your teeth. Not content with your time, they demand a performance.

So you perform.

You order pasta instead of salad because being thin is most appreciated when it’s effortless. You tease Lando endlessly because the brits like to make fun of each other. You pretend you’re duly nervous when Adam speaks to you and not nervous every time Lando does.

You’re not sure if Adam buys into it. He and Lando have an easy and intoxicating rapport that you’re powerless to replicate. Lando’s admiration of his dad is almost palpable, and Adam’s adoration is plain to see. He loves his son so much that you think it must be clear to him that you don’t.

But he’s clever, and funny, and more gracious than you deserve. He’s so guileless that you understand why Lando would want to shield him from the truth of your situation. You feel a little guilty, being part of the lie, and even more guilty for being part of the truth, but you push that all down, reminding yourself that these people have no more to do with you than a photographer or a designer on a shoot.

By the time dinner comes to an end, you’re exhausted. You can taste blood in your mouth from chewing the inside of your cheek, and you feel sick from the Chardonnay that Adam ordered that you had to pretend to like on an empty stomach.

The knot in your chest loosens with every step the three of you take towards the lifts. Lando and Adam joke about what they’re going to eat for dinner after the race and you almost burst into tears at the thought of doing this all again tomorrow.

“I’m so glad I finally got to meet you,” Adam says with what you’ve come to believe is a trademark wide smile. “Honestly I was starting to think he’d made it up, getting the most beautiful girl in the world to go out with him,”

Ha. Most beautiful. Maybe when you were six, all lithe and pouty and innocent. Maybe when you were seventeen, no curves or dark circles or opinions. Not now.

He’s teasing you, not laughing at you, but your body can’t tell the difference.

You think you feel the bile rising up your throat but thankfully Lando cuts in before you have to.

“Dad,” he chides through clenched teeth and a pained smile. When you turn to him the blush that has become quite familiar to you is back with a vengeance, and spreading all the way to his ears.

“What? It’s not bad to say your girlfriend is beautiful,” Adam teases, turning to you. “Is it, Y/N?”

“I would be worried if he didn’t. It’s how I stay employed, after all,” you say with a smile. Your response is effortless, well rehearsed, right down to the way you lift your hand to ghost over your collarbone.

“Must be a glamorous life, being a model,” Adam says thoughtfully. You may not have any experience meeting parents, but you know well enough what he’s getting at.

You lift one shoulder in a shrug. “No more glamorous than being a formula one driver. And I’m sure you know from Lando that glamour doesn’t mean comfort. Very often the opposite, if my shoes are any indication,”

He’s taken aback by your answer, doesn’t even bother to hide his raised eyebrows. “No, that’s-“ he lets out a sigh. “That’s very true. You’ve got a wise one here, mate,”

“Yeah, she’s keeping me out of trouble,” Lando jokes, nudging you, and though it doesn’t hurt you feel a sting where his skin touched yours.

“I don’t doubt it,” Adam says, opening his arms to hug you again. “Go easy on him though, eh?” These words are half whispered as he pulls you close, squeezing you just once before he lets you go.

“I will,” you promise. It’s one you’ll try to keep.

He hugs Lando next, a tight one, cradling the back of his son’s head with a gentle tap.

“Well,” he says to both of you, “it’s been lovely to meet you, Y/N. I’m just going to check the front desk has organised my taxi to the airport on Monday, so I’ll see you both tomorrow,”

“Night, Dad,”

“Love you.”

Adam heads off to the desk just as the lift arrives and you dart into it. You’re too tired to even press the button for your floor but Lando takes care of it.

He lets out a heavy breath, looking over at you as though thinking you might do the same. He doesn’t realise your night isn’t over until he’s gone, too.

“I think that went well,” he says. It’s a confident statement said in an uncertain tone, and you can’t help but feel bad. It’s not as though he was the one who had to make a good impression.

“I’m sorry if I’m not-“ you stop yourself. It’s not your fault. “If he didn’t like me. I hope it won’t cause problems for you,”

Lando looks completely nonplussed by your comment. “Of course he liked you,” he says with reassuring scoff and a smile, as if anything else is unimaginable. “And he’s not really that kind of dad. He just cares that I like you,”

God, that smile. You’d hate yourself for the things you’d do to keep him smiling at you like that.

“I think you faked that well,” you say, smiling back at him.

He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for doing this,” he clears his throat. “Still don’t know why you did,”

He’s expecting an answer and you struggle for something to tell him. You don’t know what answer he’s looking for.

You can feel the pressure building as he waits for you to say something. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears. Your skin bursts into flames and your palms get clammy.

Why is he even asking? He didn’t think twice about asking you for a favour and now he’s changing the rules. It was dinner, not a kidney. Does he have so many vampires around him that he thinks you need a reason to be nice? Is he so used to paying for kindness that he thinks he needs to buy you, too? Didn’t he already try?

Thankfully, mercifully, the lift stops at your floor and you waste no time stepping out even though you’re beginning to feel unsteady on your feet.

The air conditioning hits you, and you realise you don’t owe Lando an explanation.

“You can just say thank you, you know,” you tell him, striding towards your rooms with him half a step behind. “You don’t have to think so much about it.”

“I did say thank you,” he argues. You glance at him as you pull out your keycard. He’s bewildered. You’re breaking your promise to Adam already, but it’s his sanity or yours.

“De rien.” You place your key card against the censor and open the door. “Goodnight.”

Once you slip inside, the door clicks shut with no trouble, and you wait to hear Lando’s door open and shut before you make your way further into the room. You kick off your shoes and shed your dress on the way to your suitcase.

You can hear him moving around in his suite, more attuned to it now you know the layout of the room. As you rummage around for your sweatpants and hoodie, half of you wants to send an apology text. The stupid half of you. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you. You can’t afford for it to matter. The weight of his judgement will crush you, you know it.

As you pull on the brown Quadrant hoodie, you tell yourself it’s better he doesn’t think of you at all.

[destructive-path]

can you write ellie with dacryphillia?

heres a really rough quick drabble 4 u! (not proofread)

mdni(18+) nsfw, bdsm?ellie pulls out the belt idfk (lovingly), dacryphillia (duh) free palestine

“sorry i cant tonight. i have plans with my ellie.”

your ellie.

its true. she was yours, and you were hers. like yin and yang. polar opposites creating harmony. like two puzzle pieces come together to create a beautiful picture.

everyone in the town knew you two to be inseparable any time it was allowed. it was rare one of you would be spotted without the other. slowly people began addressing you as a unit, instead of your individual selfs, because you were hers. and she was yours. neither of you minded this, infact something about it made you two even more close.

“right. plans.”

the “plans” you had mentioned was a delicate way of putting things. your friend, however knew the truth. whilst you and ellie were infamous for being a perfect pair, you two were also infamous for being the LOUDEST couple in the late hours of the night.

warmth rose on your cheeks as you adjusted your pack and turned to your shared home with your girlfriend, where you knew she would be waiting for you.

“ill see you later!”

you waved as you walked in the opposite direction of your friend. you were only a few steps away from her before you heard her whisper-

“lesbians.”

as she turned on her heels and made her way to the kickback you had denied her invitation to. but not before shouting-

“GO EASY ON HER FOR ME HUH? DONT NEED HER SLACKING ON PATROL.”

—

everyone knew ellie to be a bit closed off, quiet. when she stumbled onto your little town bloody and bruised, alone…you knew you had to take her in. her first few months there she never said much of anything to anyone. she did make herself useful. always volunteering for any work, or patrol shifts. most people thought she was just eager to show her appreciation for being rescued. you- however, knew better. you knew she desperately needed a distraction from her thoughts. whatever she had been through prior to becoming a member of your town haunted her. you could see it.

eventually ellie opened up to you. most people had given up on cracking her harsh outer shell. but not you, no you were determined to learn everything you could about ellie. so you worked for it. made yourself available to her at any moment in fear that you would miss the time she was feeling venerable enough to share what brought her here. what made her this way.

you never pushed her to share. or forced her to be as into you as you were into her. and ellie appreciated that. you were always just there. ready to talk when she needed, ready to distract her if she got too in her head. she got used to that feeling of having you close. eventually her feelings became something more, and eventually you both opened up and became completely obsessed with discovering new things about each other. and the rest was history.

no one ever saw ellie the way you did. people in the town knew you to be persistent. always ready to lead. you gave orders like you were born to do it. so naturally when you and the quiet woman had become a pair, people assumed you were in the place of dominance in your relationship. but oh were they wrong.

you and ellie were polar opposites in life, and polar opposites in the bedroom. you two had created a space where you could give in to your deepest, darkest desires. after the first few more vanilla sexcapades something more dark crept its way between the sheets. something more real.

it started when ellie had you on all fours, your chest pressed to the soft mattress. back arched. she was behind you, leaned over your spine as she began whispering in your ear-

“can i make you feel pain baby? want to make you hurt…right. here.”

she squeezed the fat of your ass with her hand, and you were done for.

see, while you enjoyed being in charge, you also missed the feeling of letting go. by day you were a soldier. never bested in a fight, hardly faced with any challenges or fear or pain. you missed it, you had allowed yourself to become so comfortable in this town that you forgot how delicious adrenaline was. how it felt good to be covered in scars and marks and to know you had made it out alive, and that because of it all, you were stronger.

so when your sweet, quiet, girlfriend offered to show you some aggression, a little pain, wanted to leave her own marks on you- how could you deny her? if she didnt ask herself you wouldve been begging for it eventually. but as i said. ellie was the opposite of you. while you wanted to submit, ellie craved dominance.

on one night where she had opened up particularly more than usual you had found out why she became the way she is. to sum it up shortly. ellie had lost everything due to that taste for an assertive outlook on life. she had inflicted so much pain on others to the point where her life had fallen apart. and left her lonely. so when she settled into her new life in your small town she made a promise to herself that she never to get lost in her aggression again. shed be quiet, cool, calm, collected. but, she would be lying if she said she didn’t miss being someone who instilled fear in others. ellie had gotten so used to being the hunter she forgot what it was like to sit on the sidelines and let others call the shots.

but here, with you, she could give in. ellie could harness that animal in her, and you only encouraged it. wanted it. needed it. that side of her is what fit so perfectly with you during intercourse. ellie wanted to see you helpless, crying, sobbing even. she wanted you pathetic and at her disposal. and you couldn’t even call it surrendering because of how much you needed her to do whatever she wanted to with you. nothing was too much. as long as it you, and your ellie? you were happy.

—

you bite back another moan as ellie raises the temperature radiating off your thighs with yet another smack of her black leather belt on your soft skin.

your arms are tied above you, ankles bound by rope tied to each corner of the bed frame.

“where we at baby?”

your hips twist as much as you can chasing something, anything, everything that ellie isnt giving you in this moment.

“th-thirty seven..”

you whisper shakily. then as a reward ellie rubs the stinging pain away on your inner thigh.

“mmhm. good job. you almost there?”

ellie brings her belt back to your thigh, this time just tracing the area where she smacked you previously. then she drags it up your thigh and across your cunt until she reaches the middle of your other thigh. then plants a harsh slap there to match the prior.

“mmnf! t-thirty eight. yes.”

ellie tuts at you. always massaging the sting of her belt away before gracing you with another slap. her eyes move to look up at yours and she can tell you are telling the truth. tears coat your eyes making them appear glossy. they glisten under the moonlight that seeps through the curtains of your shared home. ellie has seen them like this many times before, but each time it takes her breath away.

“poor thing, you cant even make it to forty today? we are no where near your record…”

and it happens again. SLAP. moan, soothe, and you count.

“thirty nine! m-close!”

you whine and squint in pleasure which prompts the warm wet salty tears to finally spill from your eyes. and now you have done it. you lost. and when ellie sees those wet trails the tears leave behind she can’t help but smile wide.

ellie loved seeing those tears. how someone could make crying look so angelic was beyond her. your sobs had become almost mandatory during moments like this. she made it her mission to see you weeping in more places than one.

SLAP!

this time, the belt comes in direct contact with your leaky pussy and the initial feeling is enough to make you orgasm. your whole body convulses as much as it possibly could muster due to how restrained you are. ellie hadn’t even touched you there, she had spent so long toying with you and it felt too perfect that your body had gotten so worked up on its own.

slap, moan, soothe, count.

that was her way. so once she had graced you with contact on your cunt you began to grow excited at what was to come next. your body still shaking as ellie discards the belt in her hands and lowers her head to face your pussy directly. she licks her lips then presses a soft kiss ontop of your folds then says in a cocky tone-

“forty.”

—

A/N: i have never written dacryphillia before so im sorry if this feels wrong or something! i tried to be respectful as possible.

[spiderrrling]

Lazy cuddles... lazy sex... - Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader 18+ smut

Request - Eddie and soft sex and Romance because I just know half of the time spent in his bed is cuddling (anon you really be reading my mind)

Warnings - fingering, really soft sex, my unedited and not proofread writing

Masterlist - Taglist - 18+ Taglist - Requests are open

All parties are 18+ and consenting, minors do not engage!

Comments, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Eddies arms were stretched around your body, attempting to touch as much of you as he possibly could. His big and rough hands traveling the planes of your body, cold rings snagging softly against your doughy skin.

And it didn’t help that you smelled like him, mostly because of how close the two of you had been all afternoon, but you also just happened to be wearing his shirt

God, he thought you looked so perfect where you were laying, slotted against his body where you fit so perfectly together, hidden away in the soft warm comfort of Eddies bed, buried under the heaps of blankets above you.

No one could convince him there was a better place on earth right here in this moment.

However, that doesn’t mean that it takes long before Eddie gets just a little bit too handsy with you, his hands running over your body exactly where he knows he’ll manage to illicit the reaction he so desperately craves from you. But it’s not done needily, there is no rush to his movements. They’re slow, and more caring than anything else.

“What are you doing over there pretty boy?”

“Nuthing…” he murmured against your neck and his words trailed off as he delved into the soft junction between your neck and shoulder. Peppering your soft and sensitive skin with kisses until you’re absolutely reeling for any mention of his touch against your skin.

Your hands find their way into the wild mane of his hair, letting the soft curls crush between your fingers, and a soft chuckle in your chest sounded in the otherwise quiet room.

You could feel his teeth softly graze your neck, threatening to sink into your skin at any moment, but he never even nipped at your flesh, even when it would have been so easy.

There were many sides to Eddie Munson, the different personas he exhibits for the different people in his life, and none of them are a lie, they’re all a faucet of him. But you knew, that as you had him right there, with your limbs tangled with each other and with the sheets, that you have the real Eddie Munson. The one you can always see just right beneath the surface at school, he was there, right then and there with you.

The soft side Eddie has to him is doting and loving, an absolute sweetheart who wants nothing more than to charm you and let you know just how much you mean to him. Hell, he is even borderline romantic as his fingers dragged along the hem of the shirt you’ve stolen from him.

And Eddie did not waste more than a second before pulling the fabric away from your body.

“You’re so beautiful sweetheart, you know that right?” He whispered to you as he kissed down your exposed chest, his lips grazing your sensitive nipple and taking it gently into his mouth, leaving the teeth tucked away for another night. “The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

He continued to sing you praises until he is worried you might get sick of them, and then he still spills you some more. Eddie has never felt this way about anyone, he was absolutely and completely whipped for you, and there is no way he will ever let you forget it.

Running over the soft curves of your body, gently squeezing your supple flesh between his fingers and hands until you’re molded into his touch.

“Tell me you love me-” The words from his mouth are almost like a plea, as if the only thing that could save him in that moment was hearing those words from your lips. “Please?”

But it wasn’t like he ever needed to ask you with a please, you would do anything for him if he simply asked you.

“I love you,” you whispered back to him, before quietly repeating the words over and over again, letting them echo in the messy space of his bedroom, along the limited space between your bodies. You said the words until they almost started to lose meaning in your mouth, until they sound more like a prayer on your lips than anything else.

“I love you too sweetheart,” Eddie breathed into your hair, inhaling you gentle scent for a moment and he relishes in the feeling of you next to him. Rolling you over so you’re on your back, your hair fanning out over the bedsheets. Eddie grabbed your wrist in his hand, holding it above your head and using it to steady himself.

“Y’know you are so pretty like this,” Eddie said, and it was almost as if he was talking more to himself than he was to you, but you knew that deep down those words were meant for you and you only.

And with the words you and Eddie had exchanged, along with his kisses and tantalizing touches, it didn’t come as a very big surprise to either of you that your arousal had been growing, leaking, and spilling onto the fabric of your panties. But it didn’t matter how many times you had been in this exact position, with Eddie’s fingers sneaking down the front of your underwear to examine his handiwork, he was just as excited as the first time it had happened.

But now he was more used to you, he knew what you didn’t like, and more importantly what you loved.

And what he knew for sure, was that you loved to be spoiled, just a little bit. Which he didn’t mind one bit, he would gladly spoil you every day for the rest of his life if he could.

“Is this all for me?” There was an almost boyish grin plastered to his face as he traced his fingers through your folds, the tip of his finger gently circling the entrance to your wet heat, threatening to slip inside of you any second.

“Mmmh who else would it be for?” A completely rhetorical question, but one that riled him up more than you were expecting it to. His own arousal evident in his boxers, his hard cock tenting and straining against the fabric.

“You know, you look so pretty like this,” he echoed his words from before, looking down at you where you were laying beneath him, “what a shame that I’m going to have to ruin you.”

His words only eliciting more excitement from you as you try to hold a squeal back in your throat.

“Yeah you like the sound of that princess,” he said  nonchalantly as he finally plunges his teasing finger into you, making your back arch in immediate response. “But I’ll do that, no need to worry your pretty little head about it.”

Eddie focused on slowly working his finger into you, working you over just the way you liked to be touched, the way he knew you liked to be touched. It was like a game to him, and he had figured out just how to play it.

Eddie’s thumb grazed over your clit, rubbing fast and clumsy circles to it. While he wants to do nothing more than take his time with you, he is desperate to feel you wrapped around him. After spending the better part of the day tangled up with you, he is desperate to feel you, needy for your touch, your attention.

Your fingers digging into the supple flesh of his back, nails leaving small ravines along his skin until his skin is marked up and puffy with pink. Every movement of his fingers is torture, but the best kind of torture that drags you closer and closer to the high he is determined to climb with you.

Eddie’s fingers attacked that spot inside of you which made you see stars over, and over, and over again. You don’t even realize you’re coming on his fingers until your body is shaking from the aftershocks, Eddie’s fingers working you through those too.

“It’s truly a shame you’ll never know just how beautiful you look when you cum sweetheart…” Eddie pulled his fingers out of you and licked them clean, savoring the tase of you on his skin. “Or how good you taste.”

“How you feel?” Eddie placed a kiss to the underside of your jaw, hearing your ragged breaths on your lips. His voice was nothing but soft, smooth like velvet on his tongue. “Would I be silly

“God sweetheart- you’re so perfect,” he moans as he pushes into you, only dipping into you a couple of inches and rocking his hips against yours so you get used to the feel of him. Slowly fucking himself further into you. “Soaking my cock in your juices like this, how’d I get so lucky?”

His hands dig into the doughy skin of your hips, pulling you closer to him with every thrust he gave you, and you were sure with the force he was holding you that his rings would be leaving permanent indents in your skin for the next few days, but you didn’t care.

“You know I should be doing this more, making love to you, the love of my life.” His words combined with the slow, tantalizing thrusts he was giving you made you gasp. “Like being called that? Love of my life?” He asked and you moaned in response, hearing the pet name once more.

“You are sweetheart, the love of my life,” there is almost a level of relief in his voice as he says the words again, as if they’ve been beneath the surface and threatening to spill for a while. Eddie placed a kiss to the underside of your jaw and you could feel your head spin. He was driving you crazy with every thrust as your body begged for more. Your cunt wrapping around him and tightening more and more every time he pushed into you.

Still sensitive from your first orgasm it doesn’t take too long before you’re threatening to spill into your second orgasm, and Eddie is fully aware. He knows your body like it is the back of his hand.

“Hold it for me sweetheart? Let me cum with you please?” All you can do in response is nod and moan wildly, the feeling in your stomach driving you wild as you try to hold it off for a while longer.

Eddie picks up his pace a little bit as he starts to chase his own orgasm, his fingers snaking between your bodies and finding your clit once again, teetering to keep you on your edge as he rapidly approached your own.

The sound of sex hung in the air of Eddie’s room, his skin slapping against yours, the sound of your heat enveloping him, and your voices soaked in pleasure mixing.

You close your eyes tightly, holding them close as if your life depended on it, one of your telltale signs that you were close. He wasn’t about to last much longer either.

“Yeah princess? You’re gonna cum on my cock? Let me see how pretty the love of my life is as she creams on my cock,” his lips rest right next to your ear, and you didn’t need any more encouragement than that before you were slipping over your edge.

And Eddie followed you soon after, giving himself a couple more lazy and shallow thrusts before he is spilling into you. Groans mixing with the praises that still spilled from his lips, his words working you through your after shocks of both of your orgasms.

And just as it had started you were back to being wrapped up in each other, tanging limbs and bedsheets together, lips finding each other easily among the mess you had created for yourselves.

Mutuals - @uglypastels @catastrofhe @eddiemunsons-girl @eddiemunsonbrxinrot

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[harryscherrypie]

You pop, when we get intimate

husband!Harry Styles x fem!reader

summary - how your moans made their way into the background of cinema

warnings - smut, poorly written, slight voyeurism? Harry wants to put your moans in a song so yeah, fluff

wordcount - 2,8k

a/n - Oh god, this one physically drained me. I've been writing it since like august, but the smut never came out right, I hope you like this one, my second smut ever and I'm still a bit awkward writing it so patience, please.

If you have any feedback on my writing, please let me know, it would help tremendously,

Hope you enjoy it.

----

“You want to what?” You almost screeched as you looked at Harry with wide eyes.

“You heard me right,” he smirked.

You knew Harry could be unhinged when it came to his music. In his previous work, he wasn’t afraid to use intimate bits and pieces of your relationship, just to complete the storytelling. But this was too much, even for him.

“You are absolutely crazy,” you laughed and shook your head.

He had to be joking. Right?

This wasn’t what you were expecting today. You and Harry were both at home. You were working on a project for work and he was working on songs in his home studio. After being locked away in there for about 5 hours straight he came out into the kitchen and nonchalantly asked the craziest question you’ve ever heard.

“Will you let me put your moans into one of my songs?”

“Look, we don’t have to do it, I understand if you are uncomfortable, but I think it would go in the song perfectly,” he shrugged as he moved closer to the couch, where you were sitting. He crouched in front of you and you opened your legs to make space for him between your legs.

“I don’t know Har,” you mumbled as you leaned closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. It was an awkward position but you didn’t mind, you were glad to finally have him with you after he spent the few previous hours locked away in his studio.

“As I said, baby, if you are uncomfortable, it’s out of the window, you know I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to,” he kissed your cheek gently and placed his forehead against your temple.

“Let me think about it hm?” You asked and he nodded happily.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against yours softly.

----

That was 2 weeks ago, and to be honest, you thought about his question non-stop. You roughly knew what he wanted to do. He didn’t want to put your moans to the forefront of the song. He wanted them in the background, just loud enough to slightly hear over the music, he didn’t think anyone would catch onto them after the first listen, and that calmed your mind slightly.

Harry was spending the night at his studio in the city when you decided to agree to his proposition. It wasn’t unusual for him to spend nights at the studio. He always said that he felt the most inspired when he worked alone and during the night, and you could understand that.

You retyped the text a few times before you hit send. Just a couple of minutes later, a long voice message came from Harry.

“Oh my God, are you for real? Are you 100% sure? I don’t want you to do this just because I wanted it, please tell me you are sure,” even though he sounded concerned, you could hear a tinge of hope and happiness in his voice.

“Yes, I am sure, I know you would never do anything to hurt or embarrass me, I trust you with my life, Harry,” you sent back a voice message and quickly moved to gather your stuff and get to the studio.

It wasn’t far away, only about 15 minutes from your shared apartment. You listened to a podcast you started listening to while you were working earlier that day as you drove towards the studio.

You parked in the parking lot beside the studio and got out. The lights in the entire building were out, only reassuring you that Harry was in the building alone, maybe except for a couple of security guards, who were going to stay on the bottom floor, so it didn’t bother you.

You walked into the building and greeted the security guard who had a shift that night. You handed him your ID for him to check your name on the list of people who have access and wished you a good night.

You took the elevator to the rented studio, which was on the 8th floor. As the elevator slowed down, you called Harry to let you in.

“Hey, I’m here, can you let me in please?”

“Of course, love, I’m going to be right there,”

You only waited for about 2 minutes, before the door opened up and your husband appeared.

“Hey,” he smiled and pulled you towards him. He rested his chin against your shoulder as he gently swayed your bodies from side to side. You reveled in the feeling for a few moments before he slowly pulled away.

“Come on,” he tugged on your hand and pulled you into the studio with him.

He locked the door behind the two of you and led you towards a small couch in the back of the room. He sat down, pulled you right on top of him in one fluid motion, and rested his palms on your hips.

“I missed you,” he mumbled as he peppered small kisses around your face.

“I missed you too,” you smiled and rubbed his back gently.

“Baby, are you absolutely sure?” He asked concerned.

“Do you want me to change my mind? Because it sounds like you do,” you teased as you swiped your fingers around the surface of his cheeks.

“Let me get things ready, drink some of my tea if you want, it should be still hot,” he smiled and handed you the mug full of herbal tea.

You took the mug into your hands and blew on the tea gently. You watched Harry as he toyed with the soundboard and the computer from the couch. After a few minutes, you placed the mug on the table in front of you and stood up.

You moved towards him as quietly as you could, trying to scare him. He squealed lowly as you dug your fingers into his sides. You wrapped your hands around him while he quietly laughed at your antics. You raised to your tippy-toes and placed your chin on his shoulder.

“You little minx,” he smiled and opened up a program on his computer screen.

“Are you done?” You asked and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

“Almost, be patient,” he mumbled. Your eyes wandered from the screen to the profile of Harry’s face. You allowed yourself to admire him for a while before he spoke up.

“I can see you staring,” Harry said absentmindedly.

“I am getting bored and horny, so hurry up,” you whined jokingly.

“I am done, the mic is on, we can go in,” he turned around and pulled you into him. He kissed you gently, and unhurriedly. Even though the both of you knew what was going to happen in the next few minutes, the kiss didn’t get steamy. It stayed soft and gentle as if to bring each other comfort.

“You can still say no, you can always say no, I won’t get mad,” he reminded you as he placed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes in bliss.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes. “You told me like 5 times already,” you joked and he ‘tsked’ and raised your chin to keep you looking at him.

“I want you to be comfortable, and know that you can back out anytime you feel like it is becoming too much,” he stroked your cheek. You nodded in acknowledgment and tugged at his hand.

“C’mon, let���s get this over with,” you said.

“Eager, are we?” he teased but complied and let you lead him to the booth.

“You were hopeful, weren’t you?” You teased when you saw the inside of the booth. There were blankets and pillows strewn across the floor, with some towels and water bottles to the side. Your heart fluttered. You couldn’t have asked for more. The fact that he went out of his way to do this to try and make you feel more comfortable made your heart squeeze inside your chest.

“Guess you could say I had a hunch,” he winked jokingly and pulled you into the booth. He pulled you to sit down on the floor which was cushioned by the soft pillows.

“It’s so cozy, I love it,” you mumbled as you ran your hands over the soft fabric around you.

“Only the best for you, my love,” he smiled.

“C’mere baby, let me kiss you,” Harry pulled you onto his lap and quickly pressed his lips to yours. You stayed like that for a while. Pressed up against each other, lips moving against each other.

“Turn around baby, sit between my legs, it’s going to sound better that way,” he whispered into your ear and you complied. You shifted your weight and turned around, careful not to hurt him. You nested between his legs and pressed your back against his chest. You felt him lean against the wall behind him and get comfortable.

When the both of you got comfortable, you turned your head to the side, so you could face him.

“How are we going to do this?” You asked curiously.

“Well, I don’t think I’m going to be able to fuck you unless I want all of the moans in the background to be mine, so that’s out of the window,” he grinned and kissed your neck.

“Yeah, you tend to be just a tiny bit loud,” you smiled and raised your hand with a small space between your thumb and pointer finger.

“Get your shirt off, woman,” he jokingly ordered and you raised your hands above your head.

“Get it off yourself,” you smiled. The shirt landed somewhere to your right. You didn’t have time to look because Harry pulled you into a kiss immediately after the shirt stopped touching your skin. He didn’t waste any time and cupped your breasts in his hands. He kneaded the soft flesh roughly, making you moan into his mouth.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against your lips as he ran the tips of his fingers over your stomach and hips. You moaned at his praise softly and raised your hips off of the ground slightly, trying to tell him you wanted him to slide your sweat pants off of your legs.

Harry knew you like the back of his hand, and immediately understood what you wanted from him.

“Raise your hips for me, love, just a bit,” he murmured against the side of your face and you complied, air leaving your lungs at his words, wrapping your arm around the back of his neck to get some stability. He swiped the fabric of both sweat pants and your underwear from underneath your butt, and down your legs.

“Straighten your legs,” he ordered and you did, just for him to hook his knees around your legs and pinning them to the ground, spread out. You let out a shaky breath, tensing up from the sudden cold feeling touching your hot core.

“Relax against me, and let me do the work,” you nodded your head desperately and you laid your head against his shoulder, burrowing your face in his neck.

At first, he didn’t do anything. His slight touches were teasing and almost non-existent, dancing over your heated naked skin.

As his hand traveled down, over your thigh, it nestled itself on your inner thigh, incredibly close to where you needed him, making goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

He was so, so close when he suddenly started to pull away. In the deep feeling of desperation, you forcefully closed your legs and pried them from underneath his, with a loud whine.

“Please, don’t do this to me,” you whined and Harry tsked disapprovingly.

“Be good for me, or you won’t get anything,” he threatened, and you nodded understandingly. You knew he wouldn’t do that to you, after all, he needed this but you knew the longer you would misbehave the longer it would take for him to properly start.

he pined your legs underneath his again, this time a lot firmer than before and his hand went back to the place it was before.

This time around, he didn’t waste any time and dived straight in. He pulled your hood apart with two fingers, leaving your pulsing clit uncovered in the slightly cold air of the recording booth. He smeared your wetness over his fingers and started rubbing soft circles on your clit, making you lean back into him a little more, feeling a jolt of electricity flash over your spine.

“Is that good lovie?” He asked, already knowing the answer. You nodded vigorously, letting a breathless moan tumble out of your mouth. He didn’t take his time easing you into the feeling, as he started rubbing your clit a bit more roughly.

You didn’t understand how he did it, but you already felt the familiar knot forming in your stomach. The feeling of the cold rings pressing against your heated skin only made the motions of his skilled fingers make you feel so much better.

You could feel his fingers starting to explore, the thumb circled your clit and the rest went downwards until you felt them prodding against your wet hole.

“Please, give me your fingers,” you moaned out and he kissed the side of your head.

“Be patient,” he murmured.

He teased you, only letting the tips of his finger dip into you before he pulled them away, only focusing on your clit.

You couldn’t wait anymore, you gripped his wrist and looked him in the eyes, with a pleading look on your face.

“Please,” you whispered and he rolled his eyes, nodding, as if annoyed. You let go of his wrist, settling back against him.

He dipped his fingers in you again, going deeper this time. You spread your legs slightly more, trying to take as much of his fingers as you can. You moaned loudly when his fingers prodded against the sensitive spot inside you. The motion made you grip the loose fabric of his grey sweat pants you could almost feel him smirk behind you.

“Oh, God,” you whispered out as you fought against the flutter of your lashes, struggling against the urge to close your eyes in absolute bliss.

He quickly moved his fingers in and out of you, thumb on your clit, trying to graze the sensitive spot as much and as best as you could. Soon, you were a moaning and whining mess, too close to your orgasm to let out anything except the gasps of his name.

You were so, so close. The feeling in your belly almost too much to bear.

“Let go for me my love, cum for me,” he whispered against your ear.

You tried to hold off for a while, wanting to enjoy his touch for a bit longer, but you couldn’t it wasn’t possible.

You let go with a loud moan as the hot blinding pleasure hit you, making you see galaxies for a few moments. You desperately tried to close your legs around his hand, but this time, he was ready and didn’t let your legs slip from his. Harry continued to rub your clit even after your orgasm, making you whine and try to get away from him.

You felt sleepy. Your eyes were too heavy to keep them open and your limbs felt too heavy to move on your own. You felt yourself being moved. From between Harry’s legs to laying on a fluffy pillow with a warm blanket draped over you. You felt Harry slip away from you, and you tried calling out for him.

“M’just going to turn the mic off, I will be back in a minute, I promise darling, then I’ll clean you up,” he promised lovingly and you nodded, snuggling into the soft fabric of the pillow underneath your head.

He was right, after about a minute you could feel his presence again as the pillows around you shifted underneath his weight.

“I need to pull the blanket off, prepare,” he warned and you braced yourself for the chilly feeling.

You were grateful he cleaned up very quickly. He quickly wiped you up, and slipped your underwear on, mumbling encouraging words when you flinched away from being too sensitive.

“Sit up for me,” he gently ordered and pulled you up to rest against him. He opened the water bottle only an arm's length away from him and placed it against your lips, urging you to drink just a little. You took a few sips, but soon grew tired of it, and tried to lay down again. This time, he laid down with you. He threw a blanket over your bodies, snuggling your almost bare form to his, gently brushing his hand over your hair in soothing motions.

“Did so good for me, my best girl,” he mumbled as he peppered kisses around the back of your neck.

“At least credit me for the song,” you joked weakly, making Harry’s laugh the last thing you heard before you slipped into a well-deserved slumber.

----

This is it folks, hope you liked it, please reblog and like to let me know, it makes me very happy to see.

Anyway, thank you for reading <3

[gojos-thot-patrol]

I don’t know bout you but I’m introverted af. How would the jjk dudes treat an introverted and shy partner? 😊

AHH I love this request!! though, I will say I also have extreme social anxiety and I think that may have bled through so keep that in mind!

Now Presenting...

Starring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna

Satoru Gojo

Gojo is going to be a hard one to deal with if you’re an introvert, I’m not gonna lie homies

He is extremely extroverted and loves to be around people.

He actually kinda has to be around people, least he lose his frickin mind

But, he does try to do better and pick up on your nonverbal cues

If you guys are out and he notices you getting overwhelmed, he tries to separate you from the situation

And while he loves hang outs, kick backs, nights out ect, he also loves just hanging out with you at home, quietly watching you play games or read together

I will say he does fall into the trap of finding your shyness cute.

Your flustered body language as you try to hide yourself away in social situations, He finds it cute!

And I honestly think he has a little bit of a hard time understanding your discomfort being around friends.

I mean, think about it. He’s a lonely guy with not a lot of friends. Gojo loves to attend social gatherings and hang outs, because they make him less lonely.

Why would anyone want to be lonely?

I also think he would have a pretty hard time giving you space ngl

Like, you just want to read alone but he wants to be right next to you. 

So, you have to be blunt with no room for misinterpretation when you need space. Just like real life!

I don’t think it would hurt his feelings, don’t worry. He’d be happy you can be so honest with him

He does try to adapt to you and your needs, but ya gotta give him some time

Suguru Geto

BESTIES, HE RUNS A CULT IDK WHAT YA WANT ME TO TELL YA

As an introvert who loves loves loves Suguru, don’t date him if you’re an introvert LMAO

He’s always got people in and around his house and all of them want to talk to him. It’s his “Family”

He may even be a little bit upset with you for wanting space from his family

They don’t mean you any harm, they love you! Why do you hate and avoid them?

I think he would “try” To “Help you adapt.”

By that I mean when you start to get overwhelmed, he pushes you past your boundaries to keep hanging out with them.

He would give you a drink to “help you nerves” 1000%

I just feel like being an introvert and dating him would leave you overstimulated all the time.

Not related (But it feels very related) he sees no problem in using the overhead lights and does so liberally. I mean that derogatorily.

Your best bet at getting some space is sneaking away while the others are deep in conversation

If you’re an introvert please stay far away from this man. I'm so serious. For your own safety stay clear

Now, that being said, I do think you can get some quiet time by agreeing to read with him.

But that’s it other than that you’re screwed.

Good luck soldier.

Kento Nanami

HIM TOO BESTIE HIM TOO

He completely understands because he is the exact same way

He's extremely sensitive to your needs and when you start to feel overwhelmed 

And as such, he's really good about getting you away from the situation and to a safe place where you can calm down

He understands space better than any of the other guys because he needs it sometimes too

You guys work because both of you hate everyone else

Ok, that's a bit of an exaggeration but there's truth to it!

One of his favorite fate nights is just sitting with you reading together 

Unlike Gojo, he doesn't see your signs of distress as cute. He sees them for what the are: signs if distress 

Thankfully, he's never opposed to leaving any social gathering early to get you home to recharge your battery

Honestly he probably needs a recharge too

And don't worry, he's not going to ask you to go anywhere else for at least a little while

Honestly, he's the objective best bet for any introvert

He's understanding and gentle about the situation 

All he asks is that you do the same for him

Ryomen Sukuna

Ok, here me out on this one. Sukuna loves that you're an introvert 

….because it means he has an easier time keeping you to himself 

What, you didn't think this would come without a catch, did ya?

I've touched on this before but I think Sukuna is really in touch with his SO’s needs, so he picks up on it the moment you start to get overwhelmed

And his version of helping you re-regulate is to just taking you home because he didn’t want to be round people anyway

Honestly, I feel like he may be an introvert too

But not in a “People can drain me” Sometimes way but in more of a “I fucking hate people” way

He’d make fun of you for it too just fyi

“What? Can’t handle a few humans? Pathetic.”

If someone comes looking for you to hang out he’s real quick to be like “Sorry, her battery is dead today.”

Even when it’s not

Does not understand personal time at all.

Ask him to leave you alone all you want, he’s going to be at least in the same room as you.

Probably pouting because you don’t want to be near him

Have I mentioned yet that Sukuna is a nightmare?

[respectthepetty]

Pit Babe Colors Ep. 12 The Black Parade Episode

I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here. Y'all done told be EVERYTHING, so I know the entire plot now.

THAT WAS A TEAR! KENTA IS CRYING!

I thought it wasn't just sweat last week but knowing he is actually crying as he thinks about their past did immediate damage to me, and now they are ALL standing there in the dark with Way and Pete highlighted by the blue, and, and, and . . . Kentana are you gonna die? You and Waymond are stressing me the fuck out!

Now that I know they are both enigmas, I can't see them the same. Are they using their superpowers on each other right now? Are they reading each other's minds? Are they trying to figure out how to get Kentana back, so they can make this poly?

Kentana, how many times are you going to have this man spit in your face before you realize that he ain't shit? Go to your room, turn on Billie Eilish's "Happier Than Ever" and really hear it. "Never told anyone anything bad cause that shit's embarrassing. You were my everything, and all that you did was make me fucking sad."

The blue keys in front of the red product placement is all I need to be reminded that this show refuses to allow me peace.

Shocking absolutely fucking nobody, Kentana did not listen to "Happier Than Ever"

And now someone is gonna die because there are only so many ways for you and Waymundo to redeem yourselves, and if you have Jeffrey in all black, I'm worried it's gonna be your funeral we will be planning next, Kentana.

There is one episode left and I am death gripping the one time Vegas' Hedgehog wore blue because I will never get it again. I hate them.

Real question: Is Barbie pregnant? I know he is sad Charles is "dead" *eye roll* but he is taking pills, getting fruit thrown at him, and staring out into space. I would love to believe he is going through his Edward-left-Bella-so-she-was-super-duper-sad era, but now that I know pregnancy is on the table, that's all I can see.

Oh, thank goodness! Someone actually has a tracker on his phone! But Kimberly has been kidnapped, caught up in human trafficking, and is now beating up children. Bro, what was your life before it all went to shit? Do you ever call your mom and tell her these are your friends now? Are you even still racing? Nevermind. Go catch those kids.

The problem with black is the shades. Waymond's jacket looks green. Peter's pants look blue. And yet it still feels like we are preparing for a funeral. A real one this time. Not fake like someone else's *cough* Charles *cough*

Kentana, are you betraying Jeffrey as Big Red watches? Or are you asking him how Peter's been? Has he been well, without you? Is he dating anyone? What is his status with Way? Well, Jeffrey wouldn't know, but Peter x Waymond could be poly if you get out of that fucking house and stop kidnapping people!

Going from Kentana in that House of Horrors to Pete looking like this makes me understand why Kentana is out there kidnapping people. I'd feel some type of way too if my childhood crush looked like this and was getting chummy with a dude who looked like Way Way. Damn.

What the hell is this?! The cover of a boy band album? A meeting to discuss poly? The Thai version of Barbie where Ken(tana) explains why he won't leave the Mojo Dojo Casa House? AND WHY ARE ALL OF YOU WEARING BLACK?! Someone is gonna die.

Did Big Red know Kentana went to see Barbie and the other Kens?! Was he sent there by Big Red?! Kentana is really breaking my heart on his knees hugging this man like this. I want to slap Kentana all the time, but I also want to hug him and tuck him into bed with a moon nightlight calmly lighting up the room.

Let's stick him in a video game, so he can learn to love himself.

Push him down the stairs, Kentana! Do it. PLEASE! Shoulder check his ass at least.

Oh Lord, NO! Waymond, do not take a fucking bullet for anyone. You canNOT die by Whiny Winifred's bullet. I refuse to let you go out like that. You finally used your powers for good, but this is not the time to die.

Y'ALL DIDN'T EVEN GRAB THE BAG!

This is Mission Kim Possible all over again! How do you not grab the damn bag?! Waymundo looks so damn good in his suit, so thank God he is still alive, but what the fuck guys?! One job! SECURE. THE. BAG.

I hate how good everyone looks in black because I keep swinging through emotions. I'm terrified for everyone yet very attracted to everyone. All the guys connected to Big Red have been in black this episode regardless if it was their color or not, so I'm hoping that means the funeral will be Big Red's.

A cult meeting, in this economy? Villains make the dumbest decisions.

Waymond has some white on . . . over black. Please Mary, mother of God, do not let him do something stupid.

Alan, did you just say "eff them kids"? No. Not my Alan. He'll be back for them. Right. Right?

Peter is gonna Regina George his way into this Halloween party that he was not invited to just to cause some havoc. Mad respect.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!

How the hell did Charles get there?! Did Barbie's dad tell him to go to the cult meeting? Dressed like that though? Did his spidey sense go off? So many questions, but all I know is Kentana better let them go, so he doesn't have to die.

Whiny Winifred better not get better at aiming in the final episode because I still need both of these two to wear blue TOGETHER.

WAYMOND, NO!!!!!!!!!!

Good to know it only took being kidnapped twice and (possibly) someone dying for Jeffrey to finally commit to the blue.

My nerves are wrecked. There was too much black this episode. Someone is going to die, and as much as I want it to be Big Red, I just don't feel good that Kentana is still on his bullshit, and Waymond keeps jumping in front of guns. Peter needs both of his boyfriends to live.

Also, Barbara, I already know you are immediately going to hug Charles next week, instead of having a moment to be pissed all the way off at him like you should be, so I'm going to start meditating on that right now. I've been mad at Charles the entire season, so I'll hold this grudge for both of us in the finale.

[mychoombatheroomba]

Proximity Alert

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 11

And into the minefield you go. Little do you know, Leon is fool enough to follow you.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

Flustered or not, Leon was, as you came to find out, a damn good shot. 

He would have had to have been, you supposed, to survive what he’d survived. Still, you found yourself very much impressed as the two of you spent your hour unloading magazine after magazine into the targets down range. You didn’t mind losing to him. 

Not when three points was all it took for him to smile the way he did. 

“If you can shoot like that now, just think of how good you’d be if you cut that hair so you could see,” you’d said, and you weren’t sure where the energy you had was coming from. 

Maybe you said it for the same reason you'd called him pretty; it was true, yes, but you also wanted to get a rise out of him. 

And a rise you got. “You must not hate my hair too much, if you think I’m pretty.” 

Oh, he was getting better at countering your jabs. Knives and words. And just like when he managed to get a successful counter in while sparring, you watched his eyes go a little wide as he realized what he’d just said. 

You were both flying by the seat of your pants, then. 

“I won’t matter how pretty you are if someone can throw you around by your fringe,” you said, ignoring the way it felt like you were walking over the edge of a cliff. Ignoring the way your mouth curled without you meaning it to. “And if I remember right, I’ve done it before.” 

“Guess I’ll just have to be extra careful, then.” His own smile returned, and it lingered until the two of you said your goodbyes. 

That smile made some stupid, sentimental part of you ache because it made him look young - young and proud and excited that he’d done well. For a moment, he looked like Raccoon City never happened. Like the two of you weren’t training to fight what spawned from mankind’s darkest ideas. For a moment, as Leon beamed at you, you could almost imagine that things were normal. Or, as normal as they ever had been for you. 

You felt that way more and more when you were around Leon - strange, because if anyone should remind you of what waited for you out there in the real world, it should have been him. Instead, you found yourself smiling more when you were around him than you had in the last year. The smiling wasn’t the dangerous part, though. 

Ever more, you were ignoring the warning bells in your mind in favor of holding his gaze for a second longer than you should have. Letting yourself study the strength of his jawline, the way the boyish fullness of his cheeks was sharpening into something harder. Or the way his arms were being cut by more and more defining lines. You let yourself say things you shouldn’t have because getting those little rises out of him made you feel . . . 

It made you feel something other than the misery you’d been wallowing in for so long. 

Something you almost felt you didn’t deserve. 

That had been the silent war your thoughts had been waging, because it was stupid to get close. It was completely and utterly reckless. 

And you thought of that smile as you went to bed that night, anyway, because it felt good to imagine something other than the snow and cold, and the dead eyes that waited for you in your dreams. Thinking of the warmth of his hand on top of yours, his smart mouth, or the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears would redden when he was embarrassed felt like you’d found a place to rest your weary bones. Maybe you could afford a moment of weakness, every so often. 

Thoughts were harmless without action to give them life. A gun with the safety on. You could think whatever you wanted. 

So long as it stayed safe in your mind, where it belonged. 

⧫⧫⧫

Pretty boy. 

It really shouldn’t have taken up such a big space in his head, but Leon found himself thinking of those words as he lay in bed that night. It didn’t stop the nightmares, but it was a far better thing to remember when morning came than rotting flesh, or heavy footfalls at his back. 

Or the feeling of someone’s hand slipping through his fingers. 

He would much rather think of you and whether you were being serious or not. 

That was the question he tried to puzzle out that day, well aware that he was putting too much thought into a single moment. A joke. Had to have been. 

Still, he sure as hell wanted more, whatever it was.  

So, when evening came and he met you in the training yard, he did so with a mission he had no notion of how to carry out. You were already there, as always, the sunset casting you in honey gold. You tossed him a knife. “As promised,” you said as Leon caught it. 

“So, what do I get if I win this time?” he asked, flipping the blade back and forth, just as you so often did. It was becoming more and more natural to him, now. 

Still, if it was natural for him, it was second nature for you. 

“I wouldn’t worry about something that’s not going to happen,” you shrugged, a glint in your eyes. You’d always seemed sure of yourself, but with the passing of the last few weeks, he’d come to see a different side of that confidence. One that wasn’t afraid to dish out a bit of trash talk. An Army brat, through and through. Leon didn’t mind it, so long as he could give as good as he got. 

He rushed forward, knife aimed at your chest. You moved just as fast as Leon knew you could, bringing your hand up to smack the blade away. A few weeks ago, you would have blocked him, but Leon had gotten faster since you began teaching him. 

More than that, he’d gotten wise to a few tricks. 

He tried not to be too proud that he was nearly fast enough to pull the feint off. Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, after all. Still, as he changed his weapon’s course at the last minute and felt the blade catch your shirt, if not your skin. You felt it too, he could see it on your face as you leapt backwards to safety. “Don’t be so sure,” he breathed, locking eyes with you. “I learned from the best.” Flattery had worked the night before. Maybe-

“I’ll tell Krauser you said so.” 

“Not what I-”

“I know what you meant,” you nodded, eyes softening almost imperceptibly. “Now, come on.” 

You were all business when the knives were in play. He knew that. Still, it had been worth a try. Besides, he didn’t think he would ever get tired of watching you fight. Even if he was the one on the business end of your knife. 

You were a viper. When you reared up to strike, one couldn’t help but watch, wide-eyed as adrenaline filled them. Fear and bewilderment in equal measure. And when you moved, god help anyone within reach. You were too fast for him several times that night, as you always were. Too fast and too dangerously beautiful-

Focus. 

The difference lately was that Leon was beginning to move the same way. Those patterns that he’d been watching for from you, he’d finally begun to learn. You favored protecting your torso over your legs. You liked feints. Wrist locks and knocking him off his feet. Controlling his arm. All favorites that he learned to watch out for. It let him stay “alive” longer and longer. All secrets that helped him avoid a disarm, or a takedown. He was learning more than how to fight, he was learning you. For every disarm or takedown, he gave you a scrape or a bruise. You were showing him how to bridge the gap between the two of you. 

That was why he thought he had you when you bent his arm up after a jab at his side, the strain of it edging just short of real pain. 

Your hands were both occupied. His left wasn’t. 

He kicked towards your leg, and you shifted a bit to avoid it. 

His wrist being free was just enough mobility for him to toss the knife up. His left hand caught it, and again he just nearly missed the swipe he took at your head. You ducked under the swing in a blur of motion, and he followed through. You caught the attack, and again your hands were moving to control. Just as he knew you would. 

Shoulder protesting a bit at the speed with which he moved, Leon wove his arm under your own. You blocked the first strike. Just barely the second. 

Your bodies were pressed together, your hands just barely stopping him from checkmate. With steel just an inch from your throat, your lips parted as you looked up at him, first in surprise and then in struggle. Victory was there, within reach. So close Leon could reach out and grab it. Get drunk off of it. 

Drunk off of the idea of winning and drunk off the way you felt against him. 

Then he felt something else. The weaving of fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Gentle for only a millisecond. The sort of sensation that made it feel like someone had hooked him to a high-voltage battery. That gentleness died before it even drew its first breath as he remembered the warning you’d given him the day before. 

⧫⧫⧫

You’d done it to win, and maybe to prove a point. What you could never have predicted was that bragging rights were absolutely nothing next to the real prize. That being the sound that Leon Kennedy made that evening in the training yard when you pulled his head back by his hair. 

You’d heard his pained groans a hundred times now. This one, though . . . it was different. Throaty and strained, and downright sinful. No human being had a right to make that noise. Not in a situation like this. 

If that was the sound he made when he was in pain . . .

What were you doing?

Both of you froze as soon as you realized what had happened, staring at each other from a distance that seemed too far and too close all at once. His eyes were dark, even with how wide they were. His breathing shallow. His body tense. His lips parted. His throat was exposed, the knife in his hand still pressed against it. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thick. 

It was then that you realized just how far into that minefield you’d wandered.

And the way he was looking at you, those shadowed blue eyes searching your own, only made it worse. 

What the fuck were you doing?

“Told you about the hair,” you said, not of your own volition. Something cruel had a hold of you. Cruel and wild and full of a fire that burned you from the inside out. A year’s worth of pushing want down in favor of need was all threatening to split you open, now. 

You were stronger than your impulses, though. Or more cowardly than you’d like to admit. 

Whatever the case, you let go of Leon’s hair and stepped away because you knew if you didn’t, it would mean the beginning of something you couldn’t allow into reality. You just hoped that you had bailed out early enough, because as you moved away from him, that tension in the air remained. 

“You okay?” you asked after a moment of silence, because you genuinely didn’t know what else to say. 

“Yeah,” Leon nodded, and even if he was lying, you weren’t going to call him on it. Not right now. “Yeah. Just . . . point taken about the hair.” 

“Hmm,” you nodded back. 

Another beat of oppressive stillness, and you could only do your best to tread water through it. That, and try not to linger on the way Leon’s lips had looked only seconds ago. It was just a moment, and it passed. The safety was still on. 

“So, are you going to cut it?” you finally asked, pointing to his hair. 

Leon had looked lost up until that moment. Even as you spoke, it took him a second to register what you’d said. He looked at you for the first time since you’d let him go - just a glance, but one that let you know that you’d kicked up a storm in his mind. He breathed a single dry laugh and shook his head. “Not a chance.” 

⧫⧫⧫

He couldn’t sleep. And not entirely for the usual reasons. 

No, that night, Leon was kept awake by the memory of your hand in his hair and the sharp pain of you pulling on it. That, and the warmth of you being so close to him. The way your eyes had been so bright with an emotion he’d never seen in you before, one that burned low and true like embers. 

He replayed the moment in his mind, out of embarrassment, true, but also to chase the phantom of what he’d felt. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of you in the dark - his thoughts had drifted to you more and more lately. That night, though, he wasn’t just thinking about you. He was imagining you. He imagined what you might feel like in his arms, what the skin beneath your shirt might feel like against his fingertips. 

He imagined what it might be like to feel the kiss of your lips instead of your steel. 

And as he imagined, he fought back the guilt that wrapped its cold hands around his throat. Who the guilt was owed to . . . that was becoming a more difficult thing to know.

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Chapter Index

A/N: This chapter brought to you by the sounds Leon makes when he's injured. Also shot myself in the foot putting a Leon pic in every chapter . . . gonna need more than 40 of these mfs 😂

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Star Wars Fic Roulette

@dragonrider9905 hey love, so I finished the second request. So this is 29 and 48. I hope you like it.

It turned out more fun than expected.

Love oo,

Get Away

Warning: Betrayal, infidelity, hurt, looking for a fresh start, fluff, angst, gossip, fed up with being gossiped about, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know

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You sat in the cafeteria of Kamino nursing your caf. You really didn’t want to see anyone today, much less do any kind of work. How were you supposed to work, when the man you were supposed to marry just told you, he was in love with someone else. You understood, after all you had been on Kamino for the past seven months working on getting your medical licence. What shocked you however, was when he told you the person he was leaving you for, was none other than your best friend. 

Oh and he also felt it was relevant for you to know they had actually been sleeping together for the past year. So, not only did you lose a best friend, a fiance, but you were being cheated on, while you were with them. While the three of you would hang out. Go to the holovid cinemas, shopping, having lunch or dinner; all the while they were putting on fake smiles, they were betraying you behind your back. 

Word spread around Kamino faster than a gundark looking for its next meal, before you knew it you were being referred to as that medic. The medic with the broken heart, the medic with the cheating fiance, the medic who suffered betrayal from your closest and best friend. How they found out about who your fiance cheated with was beyond you. What you needed however was to get away, to do some real work, be transferred to the front lines. 

So you sat in your supervisor’s office, pleading to be transferred to a Commando unit or a unit that needed a medic. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’re emotional, and you could foul up in the field.” Your supervisor who never even cared for a second reiterated for the third time. 

“Excuse me, but you’ve never cared about me, so why now?”

“Listen, it’s not that I don’t care, it’s that I have to be fair.”

“So having me sit day after day as my personal life is being gossiped about and talked about is fine and dandy to you! Why aren’t you concerned that my emotional state right now isn’t affecting my performance! If anything, getting away from the gossip will ease my mind and heart.” You put all your effort into this speech, you just needed a break. 

She let out a sigh as she eyed you carefully, “Alright. I do know of a unit that could - - somewhat, need a medic. However…” she raised her finger to make a point, “if you foul up, if I get one negative report from the Sergeant in charge, and you’ll be right back here. Understood?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You held your hands together thanking her and the force for actually giving you a break. 

“Alright, I’ll contact the sergeant and send you your orders. They’ll be leaving soon for their mission. I suggest you get your bag ready, and be prepared. They won’t be coming back to Kamino for at least several rotations.”

“How many?”

“Last time it was nearly six months.”

You nodded understanding this wasn’t going to be an easy assignment, you headed to your quarters, packing what you deemed were essentials. It was about three hours later when a knock came at your door. 

You didn’t hesitate to open the door, surprised however to see a clone that had rather long hair and a red bandana tied around his forehead. 

“Can I help you?”

“Sergeant Hunter, Clone Force 99. I understand you’re our new medic.”

You blinked a few times, at his smooth voice. Most clones had a soft and determined tone to their voice, a commanding tone. However, his tone was warm and welcoming.

“Uh… sorry,” you apologized from spacing out, “Yes. I am. Well at least, I think I am. I haven’t received my orders yet.”

“Nope, because they’re here.” He passed you the datapad, “I understand you requested this assignment.”

You looked at the orders, assigning you to Clone Force 99 aka Bad Batch for the foreseeable future until your services were no longer required, you died, or they found someone better. You shook your head at the order and tossed the datapad on to your bed.

“Well guess, I’m with you guys. Nice to meet your sergeant.” You stuck out your hand to shake his. He nodded, shaking your hand. 

“May I ask why you requested it?” He pulled his hand away, he was glad he wore his gloves, he didn’t want you feeling how much his palm was sweating. He never experienced such fluttering feelings in his heart or stomach, just from meeting someone. Maybe he was coming down with something. 

“You mean you haven’t heard gossip that’s all over Kamino?”

Hunter smirked, so you didn’t know why his brothers were special or why they were in a class of their own, “We … my brothers and I aren’t exactly popular with the Regs.”

“Regs?”

“The regular clone troopers.”

You furrowed your brow confused, as you pointed to him, “You’re not a regular clone trooper?”

A smile appeared on his lips as he shook his head, “No. Not at all. We can go into details about that later, what are you doing though?” His eyes focused on the three bags you had packed on your bag.

“Oh, well my supervisor said to pack since when we leave tomorrow, we might not be coming back for a while…” you looked over to your bed and realized how much overpacking you did. “Ah, I overdid it, didn’t I?”

“More than somewhat. The Marauder isn’t a big ship. There is a cargo hold, but that usually carries our weapons, explosives, food rations. We each only have three body suits which we rotate, wash and mend ourselves. You may be able to bring two of those cases, but not more than that. And I would say two is stretching it.”

You turned back to look at the cases, “Well one of them is actually food, spices, and snacks. The second one is medical stuff, gauzes, medicine, surgical stuff, scanners, etc., and the last one is just personal stuff.”

“Hmm” Hunter tilted his head to read what was written on your personal pack, “You’re the stars to my galaxy, without you there is no light. Is that a message from your family?”

Your eyes focused on the scrawl that was on your bag, and you laughed, “No. That … that was my youngest cousin who wanted to leave me a memento of herself. It’s a line from her favourite song.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that, he liked it. ‘You’re the stars to my galaxy, without you there is no light,’ it somehow held a special and deeper message for him, yet he wasn’t sure why. 

“I like it.” He cleared his throat, focusing back on your bright and beautiful eyes. Somehow, that sentence made more sense as he looked into them, “Since it’s food and medical supplies. We’ll find room for it. Just don’t let Wrecker know about the food, it might dwindle faster than you anticipated.” He chuckled. 

“Who’s Wrecker?” You asked a little confused. 

“Oh you’ll meet them later today. Once you’re done here, join us in the cafeteria for a late dinner. We’ll be there at 1930 hours.”

You glanced at your watch and nodded, “1930 hours, I look forward to it, Sergeant.”

“Hunter”

“Hmmm?”

“No one calls me, Sergeant. Not unless they’re in trouble. Just call me Hunter.”

“Oh, okay. In that case, just call me by my name too.”

“Alright, mesh’la. I’ll do that. See you tonight.”

He waved and headed to his barracks, his cheeks blushing from the slip of calling you mesh’la, hopefully you didn’t realize it meant beautiful. 

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