#definitely some good hurt/comfort potential here though

[saturnskyline]

i just had an extremely cursed fic idea okay are you ready. so what if pete is too late to save vegas at the pool, and he ends up taking his own life. you know, "what do you want" "to be with you in hell" type beat. but wait! flashback to when they made merits together to see each other again in the next life ..... basically imagine uwma but with these two freaks, and their reincarnated selves are completely doomed bc residual trauma caused by torture and toxic codependency. yeah that's it that's the fic :)

[misshoneyimhome]

I’m so glad requests are open again❣️ has anybody requested the innocent reader riding William in the locker room and potentially almost getting caught again? Plus Auston was curious how much she learned from William.

Hey darling! Nope, no one's brought that up before, but now that you have, I absolutely had to dive into it 😉

I mean, who can resist a bit of 3488 magic? 🤍 I'm not exactly hinting at a 3488 scenario, but I'm definitely not against it 🙈

And the locker room… oh yes! 😍🔥 I know you wrote "almost" which apparently my mind completely ignored... 🙃

Warnings; 18+ smut (don't know why I keep putting these warnings 🙈); oral sex (f and m receiving); semi-public unprotected sex;

Word count; 4.8K

[Inexperienced!reader x Willy]

・✶ ｡ﾟ

All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you pt VI I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️

Everything just felt perfect. Being at William's flat, gradually turning it into your own place, felt more than just right.

Even though you had had your doubts about whether you were ready for it, as you stood in the kitchen enjoying a nice cup of coffee on this particular Tuesday morning, you felt more certain than ever.

William Nylander, your boyfriend, and now the person you shared a home with, went out of his way to make you feel comfortable moving in with him.

Before he’d left for the road trip, he carved out some space for you in the walk-in closet, even though most of it was already taken up by his numerous pieces of clothing and baggy style. His many shoes also claimed a big chunk of the space, but you managed to neatly arrange them next to yours. It looked quite amusing with his chunky Jordans beside your elegant heels and much smaller trainers.

And as you admired how your personal items were placed side by side, you felt confident in your decision.

However, you had also decided to keep your studio just for a little longer, just as a safety net.

It was no secret that you'd been hurt before. Your high school sweetheart may not have been the most adventurous in bed, but he sure knew how to charm other girls. And one day, it had become too much for you.

He was always out with his friends, and girls seemed to swarm around them. To be fair, most of them were quite attractive, and your ex, in particular, always looked flawless. And, it was his charm that had initially captivated you. The same charm he then used on every girl whenever he was out. Though he never actually cheated by sleeping with anyone else, the way he would sit closely with girls, have them in his lap, and enchant them all the way, eventually led you to break it off.

The breakup wasn't exactly pleasant, but you had every right to end it. To put it mildly, your girlfriends were more than supportive of your decision. Only a few sided with him, thinking you were crazy for letting him go. However, in retrospect, it was probably for the best that you weren't friends with those few anymore.

So, as you enjoyed your coffee, you took in the scene before you. The cute little doodles comfortably nestled in their baskets after the morning walk, and the sight of William's flat now being your home too.

It was quiet, with only the distant sounds of traffic several floors down, as you slowly prepared for the day. And while going through it all, you couldn't help but smile as you thought about how quickly you'd established a routine here. During the past week, you had spent every day at the flat, which felt a bit strange given that William was on the road. However, you had also simply enjoyed the time to truly get comfortable on your own.

Yet, despite being busy with work and hanging out with the other wives and girlfriends of the team, you were more than happy that he was now back home. So, Monday you had taken a lazy day on the sofa, having taken the day off to spend time with William. Although your boss wasn't always a fan of it, given that you always put in extra effort whenever William was on the road, he accepted your request for some flexibility.

Today, however, was just another workday for both of you. You would be at the office, and William would have practice all day. And then you'd meet back home in the evening.

It felt so homely, and the more you thought about it, the wider your smile became.

Meanwhile, at the training rink, William was putting all his energy into improving his skills. The road trip hadn't been his best, and he was determined to redeem himself, showing just how much he was truly worth.

And Auston, of all people, couldn't help but comment on his teammate's behaviour a little. As the two of them were the last ones to leave the ice, Auston stood by William at the bench and flashed him a content grin.

"Hey man, no need to punish the pucks like that," he chuckled with a friendly glint in his eye, prompting William to look up at him.

"Guess I just feel a little, you know, from the trip..." William shrugged with a soft smile.

"Yeah, don't we all... but hey, at least you had y/n to come home to."

William chuckled at Auston's comment, knowing that the Scottsdale boy had always had a certain curiosity about your relationship, especially the intimate part.

"Didn't really do much when I got home, was too tired," William smiled. "But then we didn't leave the condo all day yesterday, maybe only to walk the dogs, but other than that, we were in bed all day."

He couldn't suppress his smirk as he recalled yesterday and everything you did and didn't do.

"Only the bed?" Auston mischievously asked, raising his brows flirtatiously.

"Well... And the shower... and the sofa - maybe even the kitchen a little bit."

The boys shared heartfelt chuckles as William spilled the beans about your intimate activities.

Normally, he wouldn't go around sharing details like this, but for some reason, all the teammates seemed rather interested in your sexual life.

Perhaps it was because you’d openly admitted your lack of experience months ago, and knowing William well, all the players had their ideas about why both of you were so happy.

Besides, William did occasionally share a little. He couldn't help but boast just a bit as he mentioned how good the two of you were in bed together. And being single as well and not unfamiliar with the ladies, Auston also often shared his own experiences. It did sound more like conquests than intimate talks, but that's just how guys shared.

Not that you minded that William talked about you like this. Mostly because you also knew that you weren't just a girl he'd picked up for a casual encounter. You were in a committed relationship, so when he shared your intimate experiences, you knew he wasn't referring to you as just a piece of meat.

Especially with Auston, you found it a little amusing. He'd always been the one to poke fun about your sex life, wanting to know if you really were as sweet and cute as you appeared. Perhaps in the beginning, when you first got to know everyone, you were, but not so much anymore.

Not only had you explored various positions with William, but you also had intimate moments during a work meeting, in his childhood home with family around, and even ventured into anal play. You mastered the art of giving him mind-blowing head just as he excelled in orally pleasing you. The universe of bondage, dominance, submission, and light spanking was not left uncharted.

But, despite the array of experiences, there was still a world of possibilities to explore.

And, of course, Auston couldn't resist making a cheeky comment as the boys finished up in the locker room after practice.

"Well, sounds like she's good for you," he chuckled a bit too mischievously for William's liking. However, he brushed it off as typical boyish banter. "You know, you can always give her a private tour of the arena, if you dare," and with a cheeky wink, Auston left William to himself.

Although it was likely intended as a tease, William had a feeling Auston meant it. It wasn't the first time such a dare had been thrown around; in fact, it was often a dare spoken in the locker room as it was a mix of their home territory and the thrill of being caught at any time. Echoing noises through the halls would give away their position and activities, yet the boys found it alluring to show their partners a good time in the arena where they spent most of their time. However, most women didn't like the idea, primarily due to the smell of hockey equipment and sweat - and then the public nature of it all.

Returning from today’s training, William greeted you in the kitchen. Despite having a tiring day, you decided to unwind with a bit of cooking for you and your boyfriend.

And it was more than worth it when William wrapped his arms around your body, hugging you tightly as he kissed the back of your head.

"Well, hello to you too," you chuckled lightly, leaning slightly into his embrace as you tried to cut the last tomatoes.

"Mm, hello, baby," he mumbled into your hair. "Smells good."

You couldn't help but giggle a little.

"My hair or the food?"

"Both, and you..." he added as he placed soft kisses on your neck, gently nipping at your skin.

"Willy," you giggled. "I'm trying to cook here."

It was hard for you to concentrate on the tomato sauce you were making for the pasta and meatballs - Italian-inspired, as it was William's favourite.

"So? I'm hungry for something else…"

And as if you weren't in the middle of preparing your dinner, William had another idea for starters. With a swift move, he pulled you away from the kitchen counter, spun you around, and hoisted you into his arms. His strength was obviously greater than yours, and you surrendered immediately.

Then placing you on the large dining table, William wasted no time in discarding your trousers and unbuttoning your shirt. You weren't at work anymore, so your outfit didn't really matter. With an open shirt, your lingerie completely exposed, William squatted before you and came face to face with your core. Though you hadn't had time to build any sort of arousal, William's dominant moves had you instantly turned on, and your anticipation grew, expecting to be touched.

And you didn't have to wait long. William pulled down your fine panties, threw them across the room, and then tossed your leg over his shoulder, diving in for his first meal of the night.

"Oh, fuck, Willy," you breathed out as his tongue and lips made contact with your sensitive flesh. Your hands supported you on the table as you leaned back, allowing yourself to sink into the pleasure.

"Mmm, baby, my favourite fucking meal," he hummed into your core, sending sweet vibrations through your body before continuing his work.

William always made you feel incredible. You could talk about how he pleased you endlessly with your girlfriends, making them jealous of the man in your life who loved to give and always prioritised your pleasure over his own.

Not that William thought much about it. He just loved pleasing you like this. Perhaps it was the sweet sounds he created from you; he wasn't sure. He just loved the taste of your cunt and the way you squirmed under his touch.

The more you moaned and cried his name, the more turned on he got. He could feel his member growing firmer and twitching in his sweats as your breathing became uneven and your legs pressed onto him, signalling your impending orgasm.

You almost couldn't hold yourself together as William paid his undivided attention to your heat. And soon, you heard yourself whimper as you announced your orgasm about to peak.

So close to the edge, and knowing just how to push you over, William added his two long fingers, and only a few pumps were required for you to let out a deep moan and let yourself feel the orgasm course through your body.

William licked and sucked all the juices you offered him, flicking your clit a few times before he rose and pulled you in for a deep kiss.

"You always serve the best starters," he smirked against your lips, and you couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"And what about my first course?" you asked with a sweet, almost innocent smile.

"It's all ready for you," William chuckled, before you hopped off the table and kneeled before him, pulling down his sweats and boxers, then taking his hard member into your mouth.

"Oh, yes, baby, that's it," William moaned loudly as he felt your warm mouth around him, skilfully coating him with your saliva and moving your head in steady motions.

And you did not hold back. As if William had turned on every button you had to offer, you felt hungry and eager to satisfy him. You let him in and out of your mouth as if you'd been starved for days, and his cock was the only meal you'd been offered. You effortlessly took him all the way down your throat, gagging just enough to make sounds before retreating and regaining your breaths.

"Shit, baby, do that again..."

And so, you did. Forcing yourself to relax the back of your throat, you let his length all the way in, causing your gag reflex to act before you had to pull back.

William saw stars as you did your little trick, something you admittedly didn't know you could do before now. But as he seemed to enjoy it so much, rolling his eyes back in his head, you naturally had to do it again.

"Hnfg... oh fu- I'm gonna come if you keep... mmm doing that."

His thigh muscles clenched under your touch, and you couldn't help but feel proud of yourself as you bopped your head a few more times, sucking him to your best abilities, causing him to let out an uncontrolled grunt and release his cum into your mouth.

Deep sounds escaped from the man above you as you made sure to clean and swallow every bit of his liquids, tasting the saltiness.

"Mmm, baby, you're getting way too good at this," William chuckled as he pulled up his pants, slowly regaining his breath as he came down from his high.

You flashed him a content smirk. "I didn't know I could get TOO good at it... but if that's the case, then I can just... not do it," you offered him a cheeky wink.

"Oh no, no! That's not what I meant," William quickly tried to defend as he watched you walk to the bedroom, where you changed into one of his large t-shirts and a pair of shorts to relax in. "I'm just saying that-"

"I'm giving you such good head that you'll never be able to leave me," you jokingly chuckled, returning your focus to the pot with boiling tomato sauce.

"Well, not that I'd ever leave you," William grinned, leaning against the kitchen counter. "But gotta admit that you're most definitely the best I've ever had."

And that sparked something within you. You? The best at this?

Oh, this definitely made your confidence peak.

Turning around, you flashed him a great smile. "Well, I guess just like you athletes need to stay on top of your skills by keeping on training and working hard, so do I."

"Oh yeah, you definitely need to keep up your talents," William eagerly agreed, nodding along with a teasing grin.

Pulling you in for a sweet kiss amidst the delicious smells of your cooking, you both couldn't suppress your joy. What could be better than this? A round of oral pleasure for starters, ensuring both reached an amazing climax, followed by the main course of a proper Italian-inspired dinner. And for dessert? That would have to wait until tomorrow since both of you were defeated by exhaustion and too much pasta.

**

Unfortunately, the following evening didn't start out as exciting.

Though your day at work had been just fine, having finished everything so you'd be able to leave in time for the game, it didn't go as smoothly for the Leafs.

The match against the Jets proved to be a long one. With no goals through three periods, it extended into thrilling overtime, where Auston finally settled the score with a goal after four minutes and thirteen seconds.

On a brighter note, Sammy had an amazing night. With a standing ovation for his 32 saves and no goals in the net, it was indeed a well-deserved night for him.

William, on the other hand, didn't manage to score a goal or make an assist; instead, he spent two minutes in the penalty box.

Yet, still, cheers filled the halls of the Scotiabank Arena as the players exited the locker room with smiles adorning their faces. Naturally, everyone wanted to secure a win in regular time; however, with the ups and downs the team had been facing lately, this was enough for tonight.

And as the clock ticked away and the hallway slowly emptied out, you found yourself strolling back and forth as you waited for your boyfriend to finish up. It wasn't uncommon for him to be one of the last ones, however, tonight he seemed to be taking a little longer.

So as the final players bid their farewells, you decided to walk into the otherwise forbidden area, as some of the partners would call it. And sitting on the bench in his little stall, William was still in some of his gear.

"You haven't even showered yet?" you chuckled, leaning in the doorway, and looking at your man.

William smiled with his overly smug face as he saw you standing there in your blue jersey, proudly sporting his number and name. Slowly making your way towards him, you cocked an eyebrow on the way.

"Yeah, sorry baby, I just skated a few rounds and shot some pucks... sorry I kept you waiting," he grinned up at you as you came to stand before him, your fingers finding his hair as you gazed down at him, while his hands found the back of your bare legs. His hands felt rough against them, as you'd decided to wear one of your skirts for work today and a pair of boots. However, while waiting, you played a game of mini hockey with Ashton and accidentally ripped your pantyhose.

"Hmm, guess you'll just have to make up for it," you returned his smirk, tracing your fingers through his sweaty hair. "In fact, coming to think of it... maybe we should introduce some punishment at home; like for every time you're late, or maybe when you get a penalty during a game." You teased with a confident smile.

"But then I wouldn't do anything else but getting punished," William chuckled.

"Oh, I did not think of that," you spoke sarcastically with a laugh, and before you knew it, William playfully pulled you into his lap and started tickling you, knowing it was the ultimate form of torture in your book. "Stop! Willy, stop," you almost shouted, and finally, he did, letting you breathe as you straddled him, your legs on either side of him, feeling your intimacy getting a little closer to his groin, which was unfortunately covered by his cup and boxers.

"Hmm, maybe I can already start making up for it now," he mischievously chuckled before leaning in for a deep kiss, letting his mouth gently explore yours as his hand found the back of your head, intertwining his fingers in your hair.

But you had to pull back.

"What... here? Willy, we can't," you expressed firmly, yet you couldn't help but feel your cunt tingle a little at the mere thought.

"Nobody's gonna know," he chuckled darkly, trying to reconnect your lips, but you avoided him.

"Seriously, anyone could walk in at any time..." you tried to argue, but it only seemed to fuel the fire in his eyes.

"Exactly," he merely spoke, and you knew there was no turning away from this. His determination to go all the way in the locker room, potentially on full display, was lit, and you couldn't help but feel turned on as well as he held a firm grip onto you.

Biting down on your lower lip, you met his fiery eyes with a seductive expression. "Alright... but you'll have to get rid of that first," you pointed out his cup, darting your eyes downwards.

And you didn't have to say that twice before he wiggled underneath you, not so elegantly removing the cup from his groin and tossing it behind him.

It was kind of hot, you had to admit that. The way he eagerly wanted you right there, right now, was making you crave him even more.

"Kiss me," he commanded, and naturally, you obeyed. Forcefully, you clashed your lips on each other, swiftly letting your tongues intertwine and mix saliva. His hand held a tight grip on your hair, as well as yours in his. Tugging and pulling his locks, air was stolen from your lungs, and you sensually grinded your intimacy into his slowly growing member.

It wasn't romantic nor gentle. It was hungry, passionate, and lustful. His hands found their way to your buttocks, where they held on and guided your motions, as William increasingly grew more eager to feel himself inside of you.

And as you felt his length hardening beneath you, you moved your hands down his torso, feeling his chest under your palms. You found the hem of his boxers and snuck your hand underneath the fabric.

William let out a moan as you took hold of his length, letting it grow firmer and firmer in your hand as you gently stroked his skin up and down. "Yes, shit baby," he breathed into the kiss, biting on your lower lip as you moved a little faster and held tightly onto his hard shaft.

You felt your own arousal intensify as his moans grew a little louder, his breaths uneven, and his grip on your buttocks tighter.

And just as you thought you had him under your control, William moved a hand between your legs. Gently sliding your lacy knickers aside, he let his finger explore your warmth. Rubbing your sensitive skin, the little bud of nerves, and then seeking out your entrance.

“Willy,” you moaned as you moved your mouth to his neck, tracing kisses up and down his jawline as you whispered to him. “More… I want more.” It almost sounded like a plea, but William didn’t care. He was so turned on that he simply granted your wishes, first inserting two fingers straight into your core. “Fuck, yes.” You moaned into his neck, trying not to sound too loud, while focusing on working his length.

It wasn’t easy to concentrate, as pleasure took over your mind, and both of you kept moaning under your breaths as you pleased each other.

Pumping his fingers in and out of you, William made sure you’d be able to take his cock, working your warmth to make you properly wet for him. 

Your mouth returned to his, and you could feel the intensity build up within.

It was messy, with half of William’s gear still on, and your skirt folded up only enough to provide access to your warmth. And as you rode his fingers while giving him a hand job, you were completely forgetting about your surroundings.

“Baby, I want to be in you,” William huskily spoke, and you were more than willing to feel him too. Both withdrawing your hands, you then scooted a little, lifted yourself on your knees so you could line the tip of his cock with your entrance.

With William’s hands on your hips, you let yourself sink down, allowing his length to fill you up.

Moans harmonised as your walls hugged him entirely. And slowly, you began rocking your hips, William guiding your motions as his cock easily moved in and out of your warmth.

Your hands held a tight grip onto his shoulders to stabilise you as you found a steady rhythm.

William always felt so good, and riding him like this gave you a sense of power. However, as always, he wouldn’t want you to think that you were in charge. He was, after all, the dominant one in your relationship, and truth be told, you preferred it that way too.

His hands encouraged you to increase your speed, and so you did. However, it wasn’t exactly easy when William then moved his hand again, his thumb settling on your clit, and you kept moving your hips.

You felt the intensity of pleasure course through your body as he stimulated your inside and circled your clit, and you knew you could come anytime soon.

“That’s it, baby, keep going,” William spoke roughly, also feeling his climax approaching as your tight walls clenched around his throbbing cock.

And as you became more eager to reach the much-needed peak, you sped up, almost overstimulating yourself as you were so close to release.

“Willy, I’m gonna…” you announced your pending orgasm under your breath.

“Yes, baby, come for me…” William returned the husky grunt, his thigh muscles tensing as he was about to let himself surrender to a release as well.

You could almost feel how his hips wanted to thrust up against you, letting him hit you deeper as you moved. And as the tip hit your sensitive spot over and over again, you finally managed to ride yourself to climax. Letting out a loud moan, deep breaths, and clenching your muscles, you cried out as you surrendered to the pleasure.

Yet, William’s hand still guided you to keep moving, as he too let out a dark moan and filled you up with his release.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunted as you slowed down your motions, your tense grip gently releasing, and regaining control of your breathing.

You almost collapsed onto his body, feeling yourself pulsating, your head resting in the crook of his neck as you both slowly came out of your high.

And both of you couldn’t help but let out chuckles resting in this position, sharing a tender kiss before locking eyes in an intense stare filled with passion and content. Your fingers gently stroked through William’s wonderful, thick, sticky hair, as his hands rested on your buttocks.

Both of you felt sweaty from the activity as smiles adorned your lips, and you shared this heartfelt moment.

However, just as you were about to untangle from the position, a voice suddenly caught you off guard and made you jump in surprise.

“Can’t believe you actually did it.”

Promptly, you turned around, facing a smug Auston resting in the doorway with his arms crossed.

“Aus… what are you…” you mumbled breathlessly, while William merely let out small chuckles.

“Oh, please don’t stop on my behalf,” he added, not even caring about how you showed your embarrassment with rosy blushed cheeks. “I can stand guard if you need a second round,” he flashed you a cheeky wink before exiting the room and letting the door shut close.

You were completely frozen, baffled as you felt William’s cock getting soft under you, and his release slightly dripping from your warmth.

“Oh god,” you cried out, covering your face with your palms as your cheeks felt warm and red. “I can’t believe he walked in on us!”

Swiftly, you moved from your position, correcting your skirt as you stood with a hand to your forehead, considering the situation. But again, William just laughed. Rising from his seat as well, he began taking off the rest of his equipment with an overly satisfied smile.

“Don’t worry, babe, it’s just Auston,” William tried to comfort you, but it had absolutely no influence on you.

“Well, exactly! It’s Auston, our friend, who’d always been commenting on my sexual experience… and now he saw us! He’s probably going to tell everyone how we shagged in the locker room!”

“Well, if he doesn’t, I will,” William chuckled again, pulling up his sweats as he’d decided that showering now would be pointless. “Come on! It was really sexy.”

“Seriously?” you cocked an eyebrow. “You guys think sex in the locker room is sexy?”

“Oh yeah, and believe me, a lot of the guys will be jealous when they hear about it.”

William came in closer to you as he pulled you in for another kiss.

“Hmm… I kind of like making the guys on the team jealous of us,” you grinned with a smirk, thinking about it all.

“Is that so? Well, you definitely made Tony jealous, that’s for sure.”

William’s words hung in the air for a short moment as you stood in his arms and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Good – I want him, and all the rest, to know just how good you can make me feel.”

Your voice sounded overly seductive as the deep whisper escaped your lips.

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna fucking shout it to the world!”

With content smiles on your faces, you sealed the intense night with a deep kiss.

[plzu]

Hot Chai - (Adrian Chase x Reader)

part 8 <- ☕︎ series masterlist ☕︎ ao3

a/n: happy new year! this fic is almost done ♡ also i almost forgot to post this here today lol summary: Adrian is mad at Chris. You're mad at Adrian. Goff gets loose. It's a whole thing. warnings: canon typical violence (chapter takes place during ep 6: Murn After Reading), no Y/N, nothing else major i don't think but lmk if i missed something word count: 5.2k

Can people be haunted by things that aren’t ghosts? Adrian wasn’t sure, but the image of your watery eyes, and hands shakily hiding your face — it haunts him.

Which sounds excessive. After all, how could you haunt him? You were very much alive. But if hauntings make people uncomfortable, makes it hard to sleep, and makes dread sit with the weight of a sandbag on their chests, then maybe it was accurate. Because nothing has bothered him quite this much since - well. There was the shame he felt at failing to kill Chris's racist dirtbag father, and the potential consequences this failure could lead to. But he got over that fairly quickly. After all, it's not Adrian's fault Peacemaker has a shitty dad.

But you — your eyes dimming when he told you about the threesome. The way your face twisted into something that made his world halt to an unsteadying stop, like the nauseating swaying of a boat at sea. The way your hands hid the stricken sadness from him, too late in hiding the pain.

Because of him. He did that. He didn't mean to, didn't realize he'd say something that could upset you, but still. It was his fault.

Crying generally made Adrian uncomfortable because he had a difficult time empathizing. He doesn't cry, not since he was little. Guts once told him it's because he doesn't have feelings like people do. So he never knew what to do if someone cried around him. It weirded him out, to be honest. He wasn't much good at providing comfort, tended to say the wrong things. And his hands. God, he never really knew what to do with them in those situations, became hyper-aware that he even had hands in the first place. Hands good at killing, but useless in comfort.

He hasn't made someone cry since high school.

Scratch that. He makes grown men cry, like, all the time. Usually accompanied by them pissing their pants because they're terrified Vigilante is going to kill them. (Spoiler alert: he does!)

Like one of the guys in the alleyway downtown, that he saved you from. The one that tried crawling away after Vigilante shot his knees. Weeping and wailing and cowering.

But that's different, obviously. Tears and sobs fueled by fear.

The last time he made someone cry because he hurt their feelings, though, that was definitely high school. Made someone cry because he was just being an asshole. Even if he didn't realize it.

It was eventually explained to him that some people are just weirdly sensitive, so you really didn’t have to try that hard to hurt them. Some people just had emotions like the skin of a too-ripe fruit.

He didn’t think you were one of those people. He never saw you cry in high school, and he definitely would have noticed if you had. Adrian was perceptive like that. ‘Specially with you. I mean, sure, you cried in the alleyway and again in his bedroom but the alleyway tears had to have been from fear like that other guy before he shot his brains out, and then the bedroom tears were from, like, residual fear, he thinks. Not because your feelings were hurt.

But then he told you about the threesome, and the mood shift swept across your face like a fissure, and it was just like when he’d made that girl in high school cry, except worse. Because it was you. You, the person he's been quietly fixated on since, like, the 10th grade. The only other person whose lips he fantasizes about -- either pressed against his, or curved in a smile.

He only ever wanted to make you smile. To laugh. It’s the very sound that drew him to you in the first place.

Instead, he made those pretty lips of your warble and twist into the shape of pain.

He should have listened to you, should have let you drag him to the restroom and take off his mask and shove your bodies together. Because then you would have taken his breath away and, with it, all his thoughts. Because that threesome with Chris pales in comparison to the feel of you touching him.

The memory of the threesome warps his emotions into anger and annoyance. Why the fuck did he follow Chris back into his trailer to bang some chick he didn't even know?

Adrian stands at the front (and only) door of Chris' trailer now. They were off today, no assignments from the Task Force. No Fennel Fields shift for Adrian. Today would have been the perfect day to finally, finally hang out with you, no Vigilante business to get in the way. But if his unanswered text messages are anything to go by, you don't want to see him.

And why would you? He made you cry.

Adrian knocks, and whatever frustrations that spurred him to Chris's place is momentarily put on hold when he hears Chris answer, 'Come in, Adrian' without even coming to the door. Adrian walks into the trailer, impressed despite his annoyance as he closes the door behind him and asks, “how did you know it was me?” to the welcoming back of Chris’s head.

“You knock in a very annoying way.” Chris didn't even turn around to look at him when he said it.

“Oh.” Ouch. Rude.

Adrian opens his mouth to apologize, as he usually does whenever people point out he's being unintentionally annoying, but something about Chris's tone kind of ticks him off. Instead, Adrian says, “well, maybe I didn't realize how annoying my knock was because I was distracted by your bad advice.”

This seems to get the other man's attention. In an irritated and confused huff, Chris asks, “dude, what the fuck are you talking about?” as he turns to face him.

“You convinced me to bang that underappreciated chick with you and now they're mad at me.”

This only confuses Chris more. “Amber's mad at you? Why would she be mad at you?” His face sobers into upset understanding. “Dude, did you give her a fucking STD!? You said you were clean! Great, now I have to get checked. I was just at the hospital, man, I don't have time for this.”

“No! I don't have an STD, I'm not talking about her! I mean my- the barista I've been telling you about!”

Chris rolls his eyes, annoyance rolling off of those huge shoulders of his. He just turns back around in his seat.

Adrian's fists clench at his sides at the action. This conversation is far from over-

Small tapping sounds grab his attention. Adrian looks over and sees the alien thing that flew out of the Senator's face sitting in a mason jar with holes poked into the top. “Dude, you still have that thing?”

“Yeah,” Chris confirms without looking back.

Goff makes squeaky noises inside its glass cage. Its little blue and white bug-like body, long-limbed, strangely animated. It doesn't move or act like any bug Adrian's ever seen (at least, not in Evergreen). There's an awareness about itself that clearly indicates some enhanced intelligence.

“He tried to kill us,” Adrian reminds Chris, “and he cut off half my toe.”

He's still a little sore about that, if he's being honest. Currently he's sore about a lot of things.

“Yeah,” Chris says, sounding weirdly detached, distracted. “Sometimes I just think I'm insecure about my masculinity and I'm making up for it by having a dangerous pet.” He says this all in one breath.

His words only confuse and, honestly, slightly upsets Adrian as Chris continues, comparing himself to 'knuckle-dicks in Georgia.’

Peacemaker has not been the same since he got out of Belle Reve. Yeah, he's still the same solid mass of muscle. He's still a giant jerk that says the funniest, meanest things. He can still kick ass, still sharp with a gun and never misses his targets. But now there are moments where he struggles to pull the trigger.

The wavering lately is worrying, to say the least. Maybe even disappointing. 

“Dude, my advice?” Adrian offers. “Cut it out with the introspection. The mind is a den of scorpions better left running from instead of towards.”

He should know. Adrian spent most of his childhood trying to analyze those metaphorical scorpions until he decided it was easier to ignore them completely. But things have been kind of rocky, lately, and Adrian has been finding himself taking a peek now and again. Something about both you and Peacemaker being back in Evergreen at the same time is kind of shaking up his foundation.

Chittering and tapping noises from Goff's mason jar grabs Adrian's attention again. “What is Goff doing?”

Chris spins around in his chair and they both watch as Goff uses whatever weird goop he's sitting in to draw a circle on the glass. Then he abruptly stands and grabs the mason jar in his gloved hands. When he holds it up to the cool, gray light filtering in through the skylight, they’re met with a droopy symbol of peace.

Sitting on Peacemaker’s couch, both men grow increasingly frustrated, but not for the same reason.

Seeing as Goff is attempting to communicate with them, Chris sets them up in his living room, Goff's mason jar on the coffee table, with a few rules for interrogation. There is, obviously, a language barrier, but the alien can understand English just fine.

Adrian is upset about how difficult the rules are to follow. Chris, for whatever reason, finds his confusion unreasonable. Sticking to 'yes' and 'no' questions isn't that easy, especially when Adrian has been finding it incredibly difficult to focus since last night, when he left you to cry all alone in the cafe.

Chris's impatience with him is just making Adrian even more frazzled. Usually he can deal with Peacemaker's snapping. He didn't always understand what he'd done to get yelled at, but it usually blew over.

This time, though, Adrian is finding that he is equally mad at Chris. So when Chris shouts that maybe Adrian should shut the fuck up, Adrian shouts back.

“I see how you are! Your preferred conversation partners are Eagly and Goff! Neither of who are capable of speech. Try introspection on that, motherfucker!”

Chris, for once, does not have an immediate comeback.

Adrian takes in a big, steadying breath, feeling the angry warmth on his cheeks and trying to dispel it. An apology sits at the back of his throat, rising up out of simple habit, but an image of your face -- usually all smiles and twinkling eyes -- flashes in his mind. Tear-stricken.

It's enough to force the apology back down.

Turns out, Adrian doesn't even have to apologize because Chris says he's right (I mean, he knew that already; those words didn't explode out of him out of nowhere), and continues in a tone that is unusually soft and quiet and reflective.

Adrian interrupts. Chris yells. This interrogation is going nowhere.

Adrian, having gotten the hang of the whole 'yes' or 'no' question rule, asks Goff, “would you tell your buddy it's okay to sleep with other people despite him having someone he already really likes?”

Chris yells again. “Dude, what the FUCK are you talking about? How is that relevant to an alien invasion?”

They're interrupted by a phone call, Aqua's Barbie Girl ringing clearly from Adrian's back pocket. Adrian rushes to fish his phone out, hoping very badly that it's you.

It wasn't you.

Adrian and Chris are up in the trees, hiding from the cops that are now tearing Peacemaker's trailer apart. The cops that Murn called to warn about, telling them to get the fuck out of dodge. Goff is strapped to Adrian's back, a brilliant move on his part to free up his hands.

Brilliant, until Adrian falls from the tree flat on his back, where one of the cops is looking for them. But that's not as concerning as the mason jar shattering, freeing Goff.

“Oh, shit.”

Goff shakes off the fall and flaps hurriedly towards the detective, who has her gun out and pointed at Adrian on the ground. Adrian’s less concerned about that and more concerned about what Goff’s next move is gonna be. 

Chris lands beside him and both men watch in horror and fascination as the alien flies directly at the detective's face, making her fall flat on her back as Goff starts burrowing into her mouth. The move is quick and aggressive and the detective struggles and fails to rip it out of her.

They rush to her side as blood erupts from her mouth, decorating the side of her face crimson as her body begins to convulse. There is nothing they can do but run once they hear another cop round the corner of the trailer and alerts everyone else to their position.

Adrian throws Chris's cell phone outside of the car window on their way to meet the rest of the team at the abandoned video store they've been operating from.

He says he did it to keep them safe, which is mostly true. They can track them through the phone, you know? When Chris angrily advises that his phone was secure and untraceable, and that now a bunch of Eagly pictures are gone, Adrian can only bring himself to be a little regretful. 

Adrian is finding something grimly pleasant about indirectly hurting Chris like this. Something scratching a weird itch in the back of his thoughts. It's similar to when he'd throw dynamites at the other man in retaliation for being almost blown up himself. But that was all in good fun. Just guys being dudes, entertaining each other with violence. Real macho-like shenanigans.

No, this was different. Adrian got some sort of satisfaction from tossing Chris's phone out of a moving vehicle right now because he's... more mad at him than he thinks he’s ever been.

And it's not because the hero he's looked up to has been weirdly introspective lately about the usual way they've handled criminals. That was more irritating than anything. It’s a lot easier to go through life without agonizing the lives you’ve taken; surely he can remind Peacemaker of that again.

No. Adrian is mad at Chris because he blames him for hurting your feelings.

“Thank you, by the way.” Chris sends him a quick, confused glance. “For telling me I could bang whoever I wanted. Real solid advice, bro.”

Chris furrows his brow. “What the fuck- why do you keep bringing up the threesome?”

“Because! If it weren't for you, I never would have made them cry!”

“Why the fuck would you tell someone you like that you had a threesome!?”

“You said it was okay!”

It's all Chris can do to keep from ripping the steering wheel off of this car and beating Vigilante with it.

Their argument evolved into weird hypotheticals by the time they stormed through the doors of the video store, but gets (thankfully) interrupted by the mean blonde — Harcourt.

“Hey! Do you have a diary?”

“No,” Chris half-shouts, voice still carrying the weight of whatever shouting match he was in the middle of having with Adrian.

Adrian holds the door open for Eagly to waddle through. Whatever qualms he has with Chris right now, the bird has nothing to do with it. Eagly is chill. Adrian's not gonna be rude and just not hold the door for him.

The conversation between Chris and everyone gets more heated once Chris reveals that Goff is now free. The team doesn't react well to this, which is probably why Chris kept it a secret up til this point.

“Yeah, we kept Goff,” Adrian clarifies in answer to Harcourt's exclamation.

“You kept Goff!?” Murn shouts incredulously. Eyes wide in angry disbelief. Like he doesn't want what he's hearing to be true.

“Because Peacemaker has masculinity issues,” Adrian explains. His lips quirk into a smirk that has absolutely no joy in it. “Probably the same masculinity issues that convinces your BFF — sorry, second BFF — to join you in a threesome even though it'll hurt that BFF's friend's feelings to do so.”

This makes Chris groan in frustration. “Vigilante! Time and place!”

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Harcourt asks, exasperated.

“He's all pissy because he told this chick he's been seeing about our threesome.”

Someone says 'ew' under their breath.

“He told me I could bang whoever I wanted despite knowing about the person I like!” Adrian can't keep the whine out of his voice.

Adebayo speaks up, addressing Chris. “You encouraged him to sleep around even though he's seeing someone?”

“He said they weren't exclusive!” It kind of feels like Peacemaker hasn't stopped yelling since Adrian stepped foot in his trailer.

“Still,” Adebayo says. “He's, like, obsessed with you and he'll do whatever you say.”

(“Hey!” Adrian exclaims. That's offensive, probably! Regardless of whether or not it's true!)

“He's a grown man,” Harcourt interjects. “He should be able to make his own decisions and not blame it on Peacemaker.”

Chris gestures a massive arm out to Harcourt, saying “Thank you!” at the same time as Economos says, “Someone likes Vigilante romantically?”

“That's enough!” Murn sternly shouts, silencing the room. “Where is Goff now?”

They explain how Goff took over one of the cops - the Asian woman.

Fury and disappointment reverberate off of Murn. “God damn it, Peacemaker.”

You don't know why you let it break your heart. Why you let it keep you up most of the night, curled wretchedly into yourself, weeping in tumultuous silence into your pillow.

Adrian Chase, the guy you got unnecessarily and hopelessly attached to, coolly admitted to having had a threesome. There was no tiptoeing around it, either. No hesitation before saying the words that casually ripped your heart out from your chest.

It really should not have hurt you the way it did. Hell, if he had said anything about sleeping with someone else just a few weeks ago, it would only have mildly annoyed you at best. Perhaps made you a tad bit insecure, but you would have shrugged it off.

But things have been slowly crumbling around you ever since that night your old high school friends ghosted you--

No. That's not true. Your life was falling apart well before that. It's why you came back to Evergreen in the first place. But Adrian showed up and made things momentarily steady. A patchwork preventing the further collapse of your mental fortitude.

But then you found out his secret, and he suddenly had no time for you. And before you could fully make peace with the fact that Adrian Chase -- the dorky weirdo from high school -- is Evergreen's infamous Vigilante, Peacemaker came back and you were no longer the center of Adrian's attention.

Which you are ashamed to admit stung.

And as if that wasn't enough, things at home have been so off and confusing. It's a different kind of nervous than what you're used to, walking through the halls of the strangely quiet house. You could always feel their presence, at home -- your mother's more specifically. You've always been attuned to her, some kind of survival instinct so you know when to avoid her. And you have to finally admit that there's a very vacant gap in the house, and you know it's because your mother has not been around to fill it.

This has caused a very antsy mood shift with your dad, one that would make you anxious if it weren't for the fact that his focus is no longer on you. It's on your mother's absence.

This should worry you.

The confusing part is that your stomach is not twisted in knots over the idea that she hasn't been home. You don't bother asking your dad about it when you see him sitting zombie-like in the living room late at night.

(You tend to avoid asking questions when you're afraid of the answer.)

(Hence why you never questioned Adrian when he'd tell you some unprompted lie.)

Truth be told, you can't help but to feel tentatively euphoric. It's one less thing suffocating you at home. Like the weight of a boot lightly lifted from standing on your neck.

You're about to head out to work earlier than usual—you've had free reign of the house since you woke up because even your dad wasn't home that morning, and it was nice until it got eerie—but just as you approach the front door, it swings open.

Your dad stands at the threshold, silhouetted by the light at his back. When you blink and adjust your vision to the sudden daylight that's poured in, you're startled by the unkempt figure walking through the doorway. It's your dad, yes, but in a way you can barely recognize. He looks rough and unkempt, facial hair growing in unruly patches around his mouth. The bags under his eyes suggest he hasn't had much sleep. It's like he's aged 10 years.

“Hey...” He says, but it's hardly a greeting. He barely even looks at you. Mostly, it's like he's looking through you. “Have you, by any chance, heard from your mother?” He shuffles past you in the hallway, not waiting for an answer. Probably not even really expecting one.

You watch the exhausted shape of his back. You feel weirdly guilty when you answer no.

An empty sort of exhale depletes out of him, and it's the only sound of acknowledgement. He doesn't ask anymore questions, doesn't say anything else.

So you leave.   You walk into the cafe half an hour before your shift starts, just in time to hear Matty's vivacious voice call out a 'small hot chai for the tall hot guy.' He's fully ready to flirt with the customer as he hands off the drink, but does a double-take when he sees you slink around the counter and to the back.

Matty's flirty smile slips into a frown as he shares a look with Ashe, who also noticed your sluggish arrival.

The two ambush you as you very poorly tie an apron around your waist. It's Matty who speaks first. “You look absolutely terrible.”

You drag your still-puffy eyes to look at him, unsmiling. “Oh, Matty. Truly, my favorite thing about you is your penchant for unprompted insults.”

Matty just rolls his eyes at your deadpanned sarcasm. Ashe steps in to try to amend his rude comments. “What he means is-” Ashe takes in the sight of your sob-swollen eyelids and chapped lips and crooked disarray of your shirt collar. “-wow, God, no, yeah, you do look terrible.”

You scowl. “Do you two have to be back here? Someone needs to be on the floor.”

“There are, like, two other baristas out there.” Matty quirks a perfect eyebrow at you. “Other people work here, you know. It's not just us three.”

You squint your eyes at him, like that can't possibly be true, but say nothing further on the subject.

As you fix the collar around your neck, Matty asks, “So? Are you gonna tell us why you've been crying or do we gotta pry it out of you?”

“Is this about Adrian?” Ashe's voice is soft with knowing and caution.

You avoid eye contact. “He told me he slept with someone else. Two someone elses, actually. At the same time.”

You squeeze past the two other baristas and start making your way out onto the floor. They give each other a look before following.

“So the man had a threesome,” Matty clarifies, less as a question and more matter-of-factly. And completely uncaring whether the customers in cafe hear his indecent statement. “Ugh, of course that weirdo is having threesomes. I could tell just by looking at him that his dick game is insane.”

“Matty,” Ashe hisses as they give him a light backhand on his shoulder. Then, louder, calls out your name. “So you're upset he slept with someone-”

“Two someones,” you interrupt, face otherwise unphased by anything that's been said so far as you clock in at the register.

(“Again, that's just called a threesome, babes,” Matty helpfully quips as he rubs the spot where Ashe smacked.)

“Right, sure-” Ashe says. “And this was something Adrian was hiding from you?”

You grit your teeth as you float right past the two again, towards the log book the shift supervisors use that's open to today's date. Huh, look at that. There are names scribbled here besides Ashe's and Matty's. “He just told me about it, like it was a cool fun fact.”

A customer approaches the register, keeping Matty from accompanying Ashe as they follow you back.

“I'm sorry he hurt you, but...” your mouth sets into a grim line at Ashe's 'but', still unwilling to look up at them. “didn't you tell me just a few nights ago that you guys aren't even together?”

“Yeah, but...”

But he made you feel like you were singularly special. An illusion that quickly shattered at his admittance to sleeping with this Peacemaker guy. Honestly, it probably would have hurt less if it had been some nameless bimbo desperate for Vigilante's attention. No history and less intimacy.

Ashe waits patiently as you sort through your thoughts, until your shoulders slump with resignation, unable to find the right words to defend yourself.

“I get it,” they say. “I get that it hurts, but it's not exactly fair to him or to you if you haven't told him what you want.”

Ashe is right. It was wrong of you to assume you'd have Adrian's sole attention forever. You just hoped that it would last long enough until you got the hell out of Evergreen.

Oof. When did you become so selfish?

Eyes softening, you finally give Ashe a grateful look. “How are you so wise? You're, like, twelve.”

Ashe smiles. “You make it really hard to want to help you sometimes.”

You once again find yourself alone in the cafe at the end of the night. Matty had stayed an hour past their shift just to absorb all the juicy bits of gossip, catching up on yours and Ashe's conversation. He also offered up a few encouraging words, in his own Matty way.

(“If you don't tie that delicious four-eyes down, I will,” he said, giving you a very pointed look.)

Ashe, once again, insisted on staying late with you.

(“If you can clock in early, then I can clock out late, no?”)

You only smiled and shook your head and told Ashe you were fine, really. It lacked the usual desperation, though, the one that tinged your voice with hopes of Adrian stopping by. This time, you convinced Ashe to leave by telling them you really wanted the time alone to think while also keeping your hands busy. So they left with less worry than usual this time.

You received several texts from Adrian earlier today, and you think about how you ignored all of them as you finish counting out the till. They're all unopened, having only caught glimpses of the texts as they appeared as previews on your still-cracked lockscreen.

The first text was an apology that only made you scowl. At the time, you doubted he meant it, or knew what he was even apologizing for considering last night, he only seemed confused by your hurt reaction.

Then there was the text you scoffed out, where he stated he was off today and could meet up, presumably to talk. If you have to see him in that stupid fucking mask again without seeing his stupid fucking face, you think you might actually scream until both your heads pop.

Now, as you lock up the safe, you think that maybe talking wouldn't be a bad idea. Maybe not the best idea, given your fragile emotional state. You really don't trust yourself not to cry more and Adrian's been no good with tears and you don't want to make him uncomfortable (though that should be the least of your worries).

And even worse than whatever it is Adrian has to say (I mean, what more could the man say? Mentioning the threesome was enough, you don't need to hear about they why or the how or the what went in who's hole-)

-Even worse than whatever else Adrian could possibly say is whatever you need to say. Speak out loud and make yourself more vulnerable than when he has you in the backseat of his Sebring with his mouth against your neck. Relinquish whatever remains of your pride as you put the power in his hands, lay bare the fragile beating of your heart and admit how much you cannot stand to be without him. How terrifying the thought that he might not feel the same, now that his real best friend is back in the picture. 

The feelings whirl in your gut all nauseating and you grimace. You hate confessing. To give someone else the chance to hurt you. It goes against your self-preservation instincts.

As the song playing on the store speakers quietly peters to end and transitions to the next track, you hear a noise coming somewhere from the back. You pause, straining your ears to try to listen as the music continues playing. You want very badly to play it off as just your imagination, but you're the only one in the store; after the things you have been through recently, it would be unwise to shrug it off without investigating.

Unwilling to venture into the back just yet, you simply stand from your spot at the safe and lean backwards, gazing into the parts of the backroom you could see, and-

Huh. That's strange. The backdoor is opened a crack. You're sure you closed it after running out the last bit of garbage, but it's hard to trust your own memory when you've been so distracted thinking about Adrian Chase and Feelings.

You steel yourself, blowing out a forceful bit of air through your nose and begin to make your way to the back. It could have just been some critter dumpster diving that made the noise, audible simply because the door wasn't fully closed. You close the door, making sure it clicks firmly shut.

As you turn back around, you discover you are not alone in the store after all.

They're still at the video store/base when an announcement reveals on the t.v. that Peacemaker is wanted, due to evidence found in a diary that Chris says isn't his. It's Goff on the podium, and, distressingly, the tall guy from the woods stands next to her, the one that killed those cops and helped him and Vigilante escape.

It looks like they got him, too. He has a face that looks like its skin is stretched too taut over his skull, so maybe it's fitting that he's joined the bad guys, since he already looks the part.

Vigilante's phone buzzes with a text alert, and it makes him forget the tension in the air for a moment. Only one person would be hitting him up at this hour. Maybe you're finally returning his texts!

Sure enough, it's your name on the screen he sees when he fishes out his phone, and his face almost breaks out into a grin. But when he unlocks it, he is greeted with a picture that makes the excited fluttering of his heart freeze and the smile immediately drops from his face.

You're in the cafe, in your work clothes, tied up to one of the wooden cafe chairs. Head lolled to the side, resting uncomfortably on your right shoulder, clearly (and upsettingly) unconscious.

Another text comes in:

If you care for them, you will bring Peacemaker.

taglist: @whatevermonkey @hiddlehiddlebatchedloki @nobodys-baby-now @navs-bhat @afraidofshrimp @training4theapocalypse @abbaenthusiast @jediviolet @t0byisher3 @madhyanas

[ if you would like to be removed from the taglist, pls let me know! it wouldn’t hurt my feelings, i 100% understand if you come to find it annoying or just not currently interested in the fandom. likewise, if you want to be added, i’d appreciate a reblog and/or comment/feedback ]

[lcvejoy]

i’ll call your mom

wilbur soot x gn!reader

word count: 1,140

tw!: angst, hinted at thoughts of $uicide. nothing overly descriptive, but be warned!! hurt/comfort. so many petnames - based off of i’ll call your mom by noah kahan. not proofread (bc why would i ever proofread anything)

a/n: i’m not rlly proud of this one, but i wanted to post something before i dissect every single piece of writing i create and never post again lmaooo. this can be read as romantic or platonic btw!

“orange”

he jumps up from his bed the second he hears that word uttered through the speaker of his phone.

“okay” he whispers gently, putting his shoes on and grabbing his car keys in one swift motion. he doesn’t remember the last time he’s moved this quickly. although to him, it feels like he couldn’t move any slower. “that’s okay. okay? you’re okay” he’s out of breath as he speaks into the phone. he shoves his key into the cars the ignition, he hears the car rumble to life as he throws the gear into drive and rips out of his driveway. his phone is on speaker, sitting on the dashboard as he drives.

“love?” he breathes out “c’mon darling, you gotta talk to me” he’s definitely speeding now. his headlights letting off just enough light for him to watch how quickly he passes by each tree that lines the road.

“i-i’m sorry” he hears you sob out, “don’t drive all the way out here. i-i didn’t mean to call o-orange” you sniffle. there’s a beat of silence before you speak again.

“i’m just spiralling again, that’s all”

your apartment is a 20 minute drive away from his, but he’s confident he can cut that time down to just over 10 minutes if he drives fast enough to get there, but not fast enough to raise any alarms to any potential officers.

“i’d drive all night if i had to. besides, you can’t cancel an orange, love. that’s the rule.” he tries to sound calm as he speaks, though his voice comes out like a gasp for air.

orange - a code word created in a treehouse by two 8 year olds. to call “orange” is to call pain, because screams of joy and screams of pain were much too difficult for two 8 year olds to decipher. so, instead, one would yell “orange” and the other would come running to help. the rule of orange were and are: you only say it when it’s real. you can’t fake an orange and you can’t take it back - because you’d only call it if you were truly in pain.

‘orange’ back then was most often used during backyard games like hide & seek. ‘orange’ now is most often used when the darkness has fooled you.

it’s always been rare for you to call ‘orange’, even when you were young. you were always tough, handling each bruise and scrape like it was nothing. but hearing you say it always causes the same pit in his stomach, the same panicked feeling, the same rush to get to your aid as fast as possible.

“talk to me, y/n” he demands, a clear panic in his voice. he hears nothing but some rustling on the other end. his heart drops, then speeds up, then drops again.

“i can’t drive without knowing you’re breathing, y/n. just make a sound, okay? any sound” he’s talking so quickly that he’s not even sure you understand what he’s saying. there’s a pause, more rustling, and then a small hum. he lets out a breath. “good. okay, good. thank you” the relief is clear, though his voice still holds an edge, “i’ll be there in 5 minutes, okay? stay with me, darling”. he speeds up. he doesn’t care if he alerts police with his fast speed, he just needs to get there.

“should i call your mom?” he asks. he’s worried. he’s so incredibly worried. this is his greatest fear - the silence, the call, the drive, the word.

he hears a faint and mumbled ‘no’ come from his phone as he pulls into your apartment parking lot. he makes a sharp turn into the nearest spot, missing the lines completely, as he parks his car and jumps out.

“i’ll be there in two seconds, okay? two seconds” he rushes, ending the call, and running. he takes the stairs. he figures the elevator would take too long and cause him to panic more as he watches the little screen go up one number at a time until it hits your floor. he skips a step as he runs up the stairs. he doesn’t notice he’s out of breath, he doesn’t really feel like he’s breathing. like he’s holding his breath until he sees you alive and okay.

he reaches your floor, runs down the hall to your apartment door, and reaches for his spare key to quickly unlock it. he bursts open the door, running in and closing it harder than intended in his frazzled state, causing the door to make a very loud slamming noise.

“y/n?” he yells, going immediately to your bedroom. he walks over to your unmade bed, lifting the covers only to find you not there.

if his heart could sink any further, it would have.

“darling?” he yells, walking to the bathroom. the door is shut but not locked. he opens it quickly and there you are, sitting in the far corner against the bathtub in a tight ball. legs up to your chest, your arms tightly wrapped around your legs to keep them close, your forehead resting on your knees. you’re crying, he can hear your soft sobs and sharp breaths.

he rushes to your aid. he’s by your side so quickly that you barely hear him take a step.

“come here, darling” he pulls you into him, taking your full weight onto his lap as you fall limp into his arms. he’s practically cradling you.

“i know” he soothes, kissing the top of your head, “i know, love” he repeats.

“look at me” he begs, “look at me.” you do, you look up with a crumbled expression and wet cheeks. “tell me you didn’t do anything bad” his voice breaks. he’s shaking as he cups your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs. “please, baby” his eyes gather tears now, “that’s my greatest fear” he confesses.

you shake your head, placing your hand over the one resting on your face. “i didn’t” you respond, “i-i promise i didn’t”. his face morphs into a relieved expression - “thank god” he whispers, pulling you into a tight, cradled embrace.

you sat there for a long time. you cried until you couldn’t anymore, he whispered reassurances and periodically kissed your hair as he rocked you.

your tears eventually stop but wilbur never stops rocking, never stops whispering, never stops kissing your head and smoothing down your hair.

finally, in a broken whisper; “im sorry.”

“don’t” he whispers back.

“you don’t have to fight yourself anymore.”

the silence returns. this time, you invite it. silence isn’t as dark with wilbur here. when wilbur’s around, all the lights that were turned off were suddenly turned on.

don’t be discouraged, you think, you’ve been here before. this will heal, we will mend, you will not break apart.

you breathe.

[ageless-aislynn]

Title: “15 Minutes” (9/?) Author:  @ageless-aislynn​ Characters/fandom: Master Chief John-117/Reader, Halo the series Summary: You're in peril but don't be afraid, help is near. Series: How to date a Spartan (without even trying) Rating:  T (PG13) Length: 2,568 (this chapter, 22,261 total so far) Spoilers: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. Though we began with the events of Halo 1x06, there will be no more show spoilers. We are still firmly seated in the AU Warthog, merrily driving out to places where there’s only a passing nod to canon. 😉 Trigger warning: claustrophobia Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉 A/N:  Text is both here in this post or available at AO3, however you like to read. Halo season 2 has finally arrived! However, this fic continues to zip along in the AU Party Warthog, so, while we began with season 1 way back when (and you’ll see a few more things from s1 along the way 😉), we’ll not be venturing into s2 territory at all. Unless s2 is going to take some verrrrry interesting twists, lol! Chapter 10 is in progress by hand but I hope to have it ready soon. 🤞😣🤞 The tags have been updated for hurt/comfort starting with this chapter. If you read, I hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐

Taglist: @pinheadbanger​ @mysardencut​ @laurenstacy610​ @sporadicbelievernightmare​ @ultrablackwidower​ @bxmxtx​ @jellotherelol

If you would like to be tagged in my John/Reader fics, just let me know! I also write John/Kai, John/Cortana and Kai/male Reader, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, also feel free to let me know, no harm, no foul. 😉 💖

Halo fic masterlist ⭐

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Trigger warning again: claustrophobia If you need to avoid the actual scene, skip the entire first section but there will be a lot of mentions of it again through the rest of the chapter, just so you're aware. I don't want to cause any distress to anyone so if you'd like a recap of what happens in this chapter, feel free to contact me here and I'm happy to oblige so you can stay in-the-know without reading something that could trigger a bad reaction. Stay safe, my friends! 🤗

You tried to gasp in a breath but there was a weight pinning you down. Smoke burned your lungs and your eyes. Your left arm couldn't move but you were able to bring your right hand up to wipe your face, trying to clear your vision. The only light in the rubble came from a shower of sparks a few feet away, emitting from a panel half-ripped from the wall. There was very little to orientate yourself by.

"Hello?" you tried to call but you couldn't take a deep enough breath to yell. The muffled ring in your ears told you that at least one of your eardrums had ruptured.

Evaluate, you thought in the tone you used when triaging patients, shoving down a wave of panic. You tried to squeeze out from under whatever was pressed across your back. No good, too much weight.

There wasn't a tremendous amount of pain but you worried at the numbness from your waist down, behind whatever was restraining you.

Evaluate.

You tested moving your legs, your feet, your toes. It felt strange but yes, you had movement.

Spinal cord potentially compromised but not severed, you diagnosed as clinically as possible.

Something overhead gave an alarming groan.

Alert help. Report your position.

"Hello? I'm by the crane operator booth. Can anyone hear me?"

You couldn't get the volume you wanted and you automatically tried to inhale deeper. You couldn't and had to fight another wave of panic. The animal part of your brain wanted to claw the twisted metal of the deck, trying to squirm free, but when you twitched, something above you groaned again.

You had no way to know how perilous the collapsed structure was. A wrong move could bring it all down.

A fresh wave of smoke irritated your nose and you coughed weakly. From far away, you heard the muffled sound of a woman saying your rank and last name.

"Here," you choked out. "I'm here."

A blue light shimmered a few feet away, the lower half of a blue-tinted woman, her upper body phased through the rubble. Then she shrank until she fit the space, adjusting like a camera lens. A hologram.

She repeated your rank and last name. "We have your location," she said, your damaged hearing distorting her voice. "Sit tight, a rescue crew is on their way."

You tried to respond but the smoke triggered more coughing, so you nodded.

"I'll stay with you for as long as the holo-emiter holds," she said, gesturing towards the ruined wall panel that continued to spark.

"Thank you," you managed to say. "Casualties?"

She glanced up and away as if receiving new information. "Reports coming in of injuries but no fatalities. Your alert gave enough time for almost everyone to get clear."

"Good." You made yourself slow your breathing down, taking shallow breaths since you couldn't take deeper ones. For a moment, your head swam and it felt like the floor tipped. Your fingers scratched for a hold on the crumpled metal.

The sound of your rank and name cut through the terror. "You're all right," the woman assured you. "You're not falling. Try to stay still. Silver Team will be back on site in a few more minutes. John will be here soon."

It gave you something to focus on other than bring trapped. The way she knew that the mention of John would comfort you, that she didn't call him Master Chief like most people did, even the mannerism of how she'd looked away, like someone was speaking in her ear...

"Your name wouldn't be Ms. Classified, would it?" you asked haltingly and tried to smile.

"That's... not inaccurate," she said and maybe it was your blurry vision but you could've sworn she gave you a fond smile, like she knew you. "I'm not supposed to tell my name."

You tried to say it was all right but couldn't draw enough breath.

"Ah, screw it," she said. "What are they going to do, fire me? My name is Cortana."

You must've blacked out because the next thing you knew, she was kneeling next to you, her small holographic hand resting atop your outstretched arm as she repeated your rank and name.

If you could get a breath, you needed a good, solid breath. Your chest instinctively fought to expand but couldn't beneath the pressure bearing down on your back. Something above you slid and the pressure abruptly worsened. You clawed, you fought, you struggled to breathe. To live.

"John, get here now! The support beam is failing!"

"Not his fault," you tried to say. "Tell him. Not his--"

Metal screamed and everything went dark.

You woke, grasping at nothing. You still couldn't get a deep breath but this time you were on your back and it felt like someone had laced a corset brutally tight around you.

"Easy there. You're all right," said a deep voice.

Your vision swam and then Spartan Vannak-134 appeared out from the dim lighting. You were still clawing at the air, trying to sit up, and he caught your hand a little awkwardly in his much larger ones.

"Where?" you gasped.

"You're back on Reach, in medical."

Once he said it, details emerged like a black and white picture filling in with color: the beeps of the monitors, the distinctive antiseptic smell. Your hearing was still deadened but not as much as before, meaning they had already begun healing therapies on your eardrums.

Anything you might've wanted to say dissolved like sugar on your tongue before the words could be spoken. Your head seemed too full. I'm drugged, you thought and that was the last thing you knew for a while.

Voices drew you from the murky depths and you tried to open your eyes but couldn't.

"Hold her hand," Vannak said in a quiet rumble. "She likes that."

A new hand gently folded around yours and your fingers instinctively gripped hold.

You woke, feeling the phantom press of metal bearing down on you, forcing the air from your lungs. You tried to sit up, your limbs flailed, uncoordinated and leaden. A second hand closed around yours and a feminine voice began to softly sing, a lullaby in a language you didn't recognize.

The room was blurry but you caught a glimpse of red hair -- Spartan Riz-028. You went under once more, dreaming of music that soothed your fears.

Later, there was a new voice to lure you up from the sticky darkness.

"Poor little thing. She looks so small."

"She'll heal. Hold her hand, it helps."

At some point, you jolted awake to find your hand cradled carefully within Kai's.

"Hey," she said, sitting up straighter in the chair next to the bed. "You need anything?"

Your head felt less stuffed with cotton than before but now that cotton seemed to have been transferred to your mouth. "Water?" you croaked.

She jumped up and returned shortly, carrying a cup with a straw in it. You intended to sit up but a searing pain in your ribs immediately convinced you that was a bad idea and you let her help you by holding the straw to your lips.

"Slowly," she advised.

Once you'd taken a couple of sips, you mumbled your thanks then promptly passed out.

You thought you'd closed your eyes for a brief moment but when they fluttered open, it wasn't Kai sitting in the chair, holding your hand.

As soon as John knew you were awake, he was on his feet, carefully brushing the fingertips of his free hand along the curve of your cheek.

You mouthed his name.

"Rest," he said. "I'm here. You're safe."

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you truly felt as if you were. Your mind let go.

"And how's our favorite mech, the Hero of the Pit?"

"That's not a very heroic name," you confessed, smiling as Maria and then Jamie entered medical.

You were sitting on the side of the bed in generic gray scrubs, waiting for Dr. Savannah to give you final instructions before your release. It had been two days since the explosion. Your hearing had, thankfully, returned to normal. The rest of you... not so much but you were on the mend.

They both gave you careful hugs.

"You look a lot less like you were squashed by a building," Jamie said sincerely and Maria punched his arm. "Hey, that was a compliment!"

"Don't make me laugh," you begged, holding your left side. They'd fused your broken ribs back together but the tissue damage would take longer to resolve. Still, aches, pains, limited motion and all, you knew you were very lucky.

"I hope they're giving you a nice vacation, at least," Maria went on.

"I should be ready for light duty in a week."

"Technically, I said we'd evaluate you for light duty in a week," Dr. Savannah corrected as she entered. "Afraid your friends will have to catch up with you later."

They said their goodbyes and, as they left, you started to stand. The doctor quickly said, "No, you don't. I don't want you walking on that leg."

"It's not broken," you argued.

"Not anymore," she countered. "Stay put. I got you a ride."

"I don't need to be wheeled back to the barracks." You tried to keep your tone confident but the truth was even that little bit of exertion had left you feeling twinges all along your left leg. Your left shoulder throbbed with each heartbeat.

"Well, good thing you're wrong on both counts," she said, winking. "And here he is now."

John came through the door, dressed in his undersuit as if either about to head to the Brokkr stations to have his Mjolnir mounted up or returning from having it removed. You didn't even realize you'd moved to rise again until Dr. Savannah put a practiced hand on your good shoulder to keep you down.

"I'll be sending PT to you twice a day, starting tomorrow," she said. "They'll help you to get your strength and mobility back. Around that, rest. Catch up on your reading, watch some thoroughly trashy movies, and keep your feet up. Not too far up, though. Nothing too strenuous. Make him do all of the work."

That got you to look at her and she waggled her eyebrows.

John cleared his throat slightly, a faint but definite flush creeping up from his collar. "Yes, ma'am."

"All right, see you back in a few days, sooner if anything else develops. You know what to watch for."

It wasn't until she stepped back and John approached that it clicked.

"You're going to carry me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he repeated in a murmur that shivered straight down your spine.

Since your left side had taken the brunt of the damage, he put your right to his chest and cautiously picked you up in a bridal carry. Despite the care, being moved set a thousand things to hurting and your breath hitched as he straightened.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you said, your tone tighter than you would've liked. You thought, I hope nobody sees me being toted around like this, but, as soon as you left medical, you realized that no one was actually looking at you.

I think if Master Chief offered to drop me and pick up any marine, ODST or officer in this hall, they'd be hopping into his arms before I even hit the floor!

At the first turn he made, you realized the rest of it. "This isn't the way to the barracks."

"Nope," he said and you knew him well enough now to see the hint of a smile in his eyes.

You didn't have to wait for further clues, there was only one place, then, that he could be taking you. "How many strings did you have to pull for this?"

"Not as many as you might think," he demurred. "Your actions saved lives."

And they could've blamed you for failing to make sure a bomb hadn't been sent to the Pit in the first place. The curly tailed Warthog had been your responsibility, after all. You'd been curtly informed of all that when they'd debriefed you the first day you'd had your eyes open for more than 15 minutes.

You doubted they'd told that to John, though.

When you reached his room, he maneuvered so to get his thumb on the panel without jostling you too much. The lights came on as he took you through the doorway and then he paused.

"Kai," he rumbled, shaking his head. "She said studies show people heal better with color. I should've known she'd overdo it. Say the word and I'll have her in here clearing this out."

"It's your room," you said, "but personally, I love it."

The duvet on the bed and the pillows on the couch were now a rainbow of jewel tones. A tapestry with a field of sunflowers dominated the wall at the foot of the bed and you could've sworn there was a dusting of diamond glitter shimmering on every wall, sending tiny holographic rainbows through the air in all directions. But the main thing that caught your attention was overhead.

"She put up stars," you said, brightening.

"Ah, that one was actually me," he confessed. "You seemed to really like those in her room so I thought..."

You stretched up in his arms, inhaling a little sharply at the stab of pain in your left side, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I love them, John. Thank you."

A short time later, you found yourself lying on the bed in the darkened room, looking up at those stars. John had profusely apologized for not being able to stay after getting you settled in. He'd turned down the bed so you wouldn't have to, had put your padd close at hand on the nightstand to the right along with a bottle of water and a couple of emergency ration packs in case you got hungry before someone bought you a meal. He'd even procured you a set of unthinkably soft civvies to change into, exactly your size and in your favorite color.

You couldn't imagine that a Spartan had ever taken care of a sick or wounded person before, other than in a battlefield triage situation, so he'd probably found a checklist from somewhere to guide him. His earnestness to make sure he'd done everything right sent warmth flooding through you.

Before he left, he'd paused to kiss the top of your head.

"You know," you said, lifting your chin, "my lips aren't broken."

He hesitated. "The last time I did that, an entire base fell on you."

"Only the warehouse part," you said dismissively, "and there was absolutely no correlation, I promise."

He tried to smile at that but his eyes still showed concern.

"I promise," you repeated more seriously and he exhaled as if about to make a tremendous leap. His kiss was so soft and gentle, it was barely more than a whisper against your mouth.

Once he had left, you'd considered taking Dr. Savannah's advice and watching a holo, reading something on your padd, or doing any number of things to pass the time but ultimately, you'd wanted to appreciate his handiwork.

After all, it wasn't just anybody who could say a Spartan had literally hung the stars for them.

[mothwingwritings]

F for Jack Hanma (▰˘◡˘▰)

Hell yeah, here I come with the Jack goods. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Warnings: Mentions of fighting/masturbation

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

It would get him very excited, for multiple reasons. 

First and foremost it pleases him because it shows that you have some manner of self-preservation, and that puts him at ease. You are such a small helpless thing compared to a man like Jack, and he worries that (god forbid) if you were to get separated from him and someone were to get ahold of you, you could easily get very hurt. Knowing that you have at least some knowledge of basic self-defense lets him breathe. You may not be able to put a dent in Jack himself, but you can potentially stun a random Joe off the street enough to escape to safety should the need arise, and that knowledge brings him comfort.

He also thinks it’s kinda fun when you fight back. Jack’s thirst for strength was originally born from a desire for revenge-both against the man who assaulted his mother, and against the life that cursed him with such a weak and fragile body. What he once strived for as a means of retribution quickly took over most of his life, making him the man he is now.  He no longer seeks strength as just a means to contest his fate, but because he wants to. He loves to fight, the thrill of taking down an opponent one of the only things that truly gets his blood pumping. You have no hope of hurting Jack in any capacity, but he thinks it’s endearing that you try. He does his best to hide how much it pleases him when you lash out, not wanting you to be offended by how cute he finds it. He knows you are attacking him because you are truly angry, and that to you this is all very serious. But honestly, it’s like a bear versus a field mouse. How can he not find the attempt adorable?

He also won’t deny that he finds it sexy as fuck. That feral look in your eye when you go to lunge at him just does something to him. Again, he doesn’t want to make light of your feelings of rage but… Goddamn. When you look at him with that the all-consuming fury reflected in your eyes, labored breathing, a thin layer of sweat covering your heaving chest from all the exertion…  Can you blame him for getting hard? He definitely uses it as masturbation fodder if he can’t have you in person.

So overall Jack likes it when you put up some resistance, but it does make him feel a little bad how easy it is for him to overtake you. He can tell how hard you are trying, and even though your loss is inevitable, he knows how bitter defeat tastes. He may try and humor you every now and again and let you land a solid hit, but he’s no good at acting and his pain threshold is so fucked at this point he knows he won’t be able to convince you that you ‘hurt’ him. It worries him, because he knows seeing just how little damage your blow causes will probably make you more distressed than anything, and he doesn’t really want to stress you out more than necessary. But you’ll get over it. You don’t really have any other choice.

[lizard-queen-izzy]

OK! WE'RE DOING THIS!

Everyone shut up and sit down. I'm talking about TMA. I am listening through for the first time, I'm through S1 and halfway through S2, and I already have many Thoughts. Today, we will be focusing on my evil ship thoughts, because I missed my chance when this was coming out so now I will subject you all.

I know Jon and Martin get together at some point, and yknow, that's all fine and good.

BUT I WANNA TALK ABOUT JON AND TIM, OK?

There is so much potential for something there, and they would be so incredibly messy after the S1 finale.

[I've lightly scrolled through the jontim tag, and I truly don't think there's enough of you talking about how tragic they are. Platonic or romantic, they're so so sad.]

They both worked in the research department before Jon was made Head Archivist, and even though they definitely weren't close, they were definitely friendly. My Firm Belief is that Jon was the only one who took Tim seriously despite his more lax attitude, he saw his strong work ethic and his dedication and treated him accordingly. And Tim was the only one who listened to Jon, the only one who thought he had anything to add and took his suggestions.

I believe they were hired around the same time, and once they met there was a silent understanding that they were there for eachother. It was nice to just have someone in their corner in this new environment.

When Jon got promoted to Head Archivist, he was adamant about Tim being on his team, because he knew Tim would help get the results needed. [I have a whole, how everyone got assigned to the team timeline thought out but that's not why we're here]

Tim is the only member of his team who Jon doesn't think would have written Antonio Blake's statement as a joke to scare him. Which means he trusts him the most out of all of them. Which wouldn't be as important if he showed distaste for them equally, but he regards both Tim and Sasha highly, and only really seems to have an issue with Martin at this point. So why would he trust Tim to not have written it but not Sasha? Unless he's known him the longest and has reason to put that faith in him.

AND THEIR CONVERSATION AT THE BEGINNING OF MAG 33?? You're gonna listen to that, the first time we as the audience meet Tim, and tell me you don't hear how much these two care for eachother? Even when Jon starts getting upset/loud, he calms quickly for Tim, and doesn't let himself fully yell at him. He also leaves it up to Tim to fix the mistakes, an example of him trusting Tim's judgement and work. And Tim is so calm with him! The man keeps getting worked up and starting to get loud, but Tim stays calm and let's him self correct and say what he needs to before proceeding himself. He knows Jon is stressed and has a lot on his plate. He knows these mistakes needed to be discussed with him and corrected somehow, but he's still not going to force Jon to re-record the statements if he really doesn't want to, he's willing to find another solution. And then he leaves to go work on it so Jon can get back to recording the statement.

And Tim telling Jon he doesn't understand the filing system and Jon explaining it calmly to him, admitting he doesn't really get it either but that's how it is.

You also have to see my vision for how the S1 finale effects them. A traumatic experience where they were both scarred mentally and physically in the same ways. Something that should have brought them even closer, maybe finally made them feel comfortable being proper friends outside of work. But they both react to it SO differently. And that is the beginning of their downfall. That is the beginning of the end.

Because Jon spirals. He stops trusting everyone. He pushes them all away and starts crossing boundaries. HE SPIES ON TIMS HOUSE. And he can't even calm down long enough to see why this bothers his coworkers. Why this hurts Tim.

The beginning of S2 from Tim's perspective is awful. Your first friend in this workplace is overworking himself, throwing himself back into work the second he's cleared physically well enough to go back. But he clearly hasn't moved past it, and you can't blame him for that. Everyone copes differently, but then he turns on you. He stops trusting you, starts pushing you away, starts spying on you. Can you imagine how much that hurts? To have the first person in this terrifying new job who ever put their trust in you, who ever believed in you, to turn on you just when you need them the most.

THEY ARE SO FUCKING MESSY. GOD.

Anyway. I very well may be back with more JonTim thoughts as I continue to listen. But this is what I have for you today.

[bonesandblood-sunandmoon]

Tumblr has been working on implementing a Communities feature here, and they've gotten to a Closed Beta stage. There's more details in this post, but basically, some people will be getting emails with information about filling out a form if they're interested in a community and ideas will be selectively approved and created. There will be a community member cap while in Closed Beta, and taking part in feedback will probably be inevitable.

I'm honestly not sure if there's an underlying reason for who gets sent emails or if I was randomly chosen, but I have the opportunity to fill out a potential community form. Someone would have to approve it, and at this stage, allowing duplicates or communities that are very nearly duplicated with minor differences will probably be unlikely. Considering the tag spamming in Jumblr, I thought it might be a good idea to suggest some sort of Jewish themed Community.

If anyone else has gotten an email about creating a Community and has had this idea, I would absolutely like a response about it. (I have no idea if this is a 'first come, first serve' sort of thing, but I'd rather not make a duplicate suggestion.)

There is a note in the email that not every suggestion will be approved, and they're looking for a spread of different types of Communities. However, it also can't hurt to at least put forward the suggestion.

I haven't looked at the form in great detail yet, but it will probably ask for a name, description, community guidelines, and if the Community will be public or private.

Name: I'm not 100% sold on using 'Jumblr', 'Jewish', or 'Judaism' since those are so broad and general. However, if enough people like using 'Jumblr' or something that does seem personally broad, it's still on the table for consideration.

Description: A space for Jewish Tumblrites...? (Jews of Tumblr?) To be determined, really. (Should it be a space also open to gentile allies? Probably see the private vs public section.)

Community guidelines: Some will be the usual matters of what posts will not be allowed, how to tag for certain topics, and what conduct could lead to being removed from the comm. Specific guidelines to this comm are definitely where I'd appreciate some degree of input, though.

For example, it's entirely possible that someone interested in joining this potential Jewish themed Community will want to avoid examples of antisemitism. Does this look like a guideline about not posting antisemitic anon hate or reblogging conversations with antisemitic responses in the reblog chain into the Community? Does this look like needing to use a specific tag so other community members can blacklist or use Tumblr's filtering feature? What if someone wants to talk about antisemitism they've recently faced?

The Israel-Hamas war. Do the community members want a space free from news updates? Or would a guideline about not showing gory imagery or videos, but allowing text only updates, be alright? (Do community members want a space free from larger I/P discussions? Or as long it's tagged for filtering purposes, do they want to be able to talk about I/P without having trolls and random antisemites wander into the replies/reblogs?)

Zionism. I don't want this to be another space where people face the 'are you a Good Jew or a Bad Jew' sort of questioning. However, does this look like a statement in the description welcoming everyone including Zionists, or does there need to be a guideline about talking about anti-/non-/Zionism within the Community?

Other: I don't know what the community member cap will be in the beginning, so I have no idea whether there'll be a need for mods immediately or not. The only language I'm comfortable doing any modding in is English, so at the very least, I'd probably need someone who knows Hebrew at some point.

Public or private: I like the idea of a public community that's not dissimilar to the Jumblr tag, but you know, I'm not sure about how comfortable community members will be with a public community given the compilation of blocklists based on interacting with a particular post/user.

From the Communities Help page:

Public communities can be seen and visited by non-members, logged in or logged out. However, only the feed of posts in each community tab, and the About page, are accessible. Non-members cannot view the member list, see who reacted with what, or see community comments. Non-members with an invite can see everything a member can see, but cannot interact with anything until they accept the invitation. Private communities cannot be seen or visited by non-members at all. The existence of a private community is not hidden, however, if someone has the URL (they’ll see a message like “this is a private community”). Non-members with an invite can see everything a member can see, but cannot interact with anything until they accept the invitation.

-

Not directly related but notable enough to mention: I can easily imagine that some people will not be enthusiastic that I'm volunteering for this effort. This is the main associated with a conversion sideblog, but I have not felt comfortable with revealing my sideblog, especially after October 7th. However, I don't think a Tumblr Community can be associated with a secondary account, so I can't really change that my not-really-Jewish-looking account is the one associated with this idea. If someone likes this idea but still would rather have someone else try to implement it, I guess we'll cross that bridge if we get there in the response to this.

[writerscafehub]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

@eulalielatibule

From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

Hmm I'd say I'm like, 2.8? I'm pretty basic and don't do much editing but my stories are good and I'm proud of them!

2. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

I think I excel at fluffy family fics. I just love writing good dads being sweet with their kids, especially daughters. Another thing that makes me stand out is how I write autistic!reader. I haven't seen anyone else write that for the Chris Evans fandom (not including Steve) so I'm proud to be the one to do it.

3. Are there any writers that inspire you?

Everyone in the server is so talented and they all inspire me in different ways. @a-lumos-in-the-nox puts out story after story with her OC and Ron Weasly and I just love that! Especially as someone who wants to start writing more OCs. @flordeamatista’s writing is so poetic and beautiful and I admire it so much

4. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

I'm pretty proud of my Suburban Dad Sunday verse. It's done so well but it's also just very fun for me to write and it's letting me explore characters that I hadn't written for previously.

5. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write and which do you find most difficult to write?

Jake Jensen is definitely the easiest. Idk he's just so sweet and fun and the vibes are immaculate with him! The most difficult would probably be any dark character

6. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

I write a lot about Jake and fluff/hurt and comfort.

7. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about!

I have a Lloyd Hansen fic with a living music box ballerina. It'll be a giant/tiny fic which I know isn't super popular but I find it so comforting and I'm excited to share it!

8. First fandom you ever wrote for?

I believe it was Phantom of the Opera 🙈😂

9. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

I can't think of any tropes, but I do love reading daddy kink fics lmao

10. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

I mean never say never, but I do not like enemies to lovers. Idk why, I just can't get behind it. I also will likely never write a mob au.

11. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

Probably my most recent one with Jake Jensen x Reader x Ari Levinson. H-O-T-T-O-G-O was my first time writing a throuple and it was interesting!

12. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

I love writing Lloyd Hansen and his Reader for SDS. He's just so funny and petty and it's fun to see his shenanigans!

13. Do you listen to anything while you write?

No, I get too distracted. I need it to be quiet while I write. I do have playlists to help me get into the right headspace or to help with muse.

14. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

One shots all the way

15. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

All the time! Although I feel like most of my fics are little side quests to one big story/universe. I want to do more with The Purrfect Pair- Kitten is so cute and there's lots of potential for mischief with her and Wanda.

16. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

Soooo many things. I want to write a smutty series but smut is just so hard for me to write for some reason. I admire those who write it so effortlessly!

17. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

There are many comments that I hold near and dear to my heart. Recently I got a comment from @thezombieprositute who said my ability to turn simple prompts into heart warming stories was a testament to my skills and it really made my day.

18. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

A long time ago I wrote a Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers Halloween fic. It was on my old account so it isn't around anymore, though I might repost it here. It was definitely a challenge as it was more involved and took a lot of world building. It turned out okay, but maybe I'll revisit it and do some editing!

19. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

Fluff, all the time.

20. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

Do I?? I have so many. Thank you for the time to infodump about some of my favorites lmao

I have Eloise Montgomery who is a sexretary for Pete Brenner. Her face claim is Sydney Sweeney!

There's also Charles Randolph who is similar to Ransom in that he's a bratty rich boy who I pair with Ari Levinson. His face claim is Logan Lerman.

I have soooo many but they are my favorites!

21. If you could enter the universe of any one of your fics, which would it be and why?

Oh gosh, that's hard. Probably my The Purrfect Pair au. I want to live in a cottage with Wanda Maximoff more than anything!

22. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

I can't think of anything in particular. It just takes me a while to write because of burn out and stuff but I love it and I love sharing it with everyone 🩷

23. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

Oof this is hard for some reason but I do like this from Pine-ing For You

One time when you both were drunkenly singing All I Want for Christmas is You, he pulled you over to the plant hanging from the ceiling and kissed you straight on the mouth. It was a chaste, puckered lips type of kiss and yet it still made your heart flutter from excitement. You both carried on as if nothing happened, never brought it up when you were sober. You eventually decided the incident was merely drunken shenanigans and nothing more, although a part of you wanted to feel his plush lips against yours again.

24. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I'm excited for all that I have planned this year and I hope I can venture into some new territory with my fic writing. I appreciate everyone's support, you all mean the world to me! 🙏🏼 

[lotus-duckies]

anyway here's a pseudo intellectual analysis of the vision quest outfits because i'm normal

The vision quest is interesting to me because it's an instance of the turtles individuality, especially how that shows in the garments they made for themselves.

Raph

Raph deviates the most from the norm, even changing the shape of his mask which feels representative of his feelings of being outcast and wanting to go off to do his own thing.

Most notably, his outfit has a lot of elements akin to alt, adult, or rebellious images, like his belt now resembling a harness, fishnets and his neck being tied off like a choker. It makes for a compelling statement on his desire to be different, be self expressive and individual, to be seen as an adult who can make his own choices and doesn't need to be coddled.

I think this also shows in how he traded his sai, which are typically not very sharp and used for self defense (though offensive techniques can also used), for flaming shredder blades, which are definitely very dangerous for both whoever he's fighting and himself. The fact he used them without hurting himself implies practice, careful use. Wisdom, perhaps. Tempering the fire for power as Splinter said.

(did i mention i think his head reminds me of a snake with its tongue out. that's very important. he looks like a snake with More Teeth for fighting. absolutely lethal)

Also I will briefly mention the implied sensory experience that was what I wanted this to be about. He has significantly more fabric squeezing and covering him, scratchy fishnets on his arms, almost every part of his face is covered except his mouth. Suggesting a sensory profile that he may enjoy pressure stimming, perhaps that goes hand in hand with the fact he's more aggressive in his sparring and fighting. Something to think about.

Donnie

I'm going to talk about Mikey later but i think it's interesting they both chose to paint themselves and wear some kind of armor to protect themselves.

Donnie's design speaks to me as someone who has so much creative energy buzzing inside him but also wants to hide. He seemed to be the most sensitive about the fact they're mutants, often downtrodden about being told he could never be with April because they're freaks, and this combined with that he Knows he's going to get hurt results in the mask. (also maybe he likes casey and his stupid mask maybe he likes it a lot maybe they're kissing on the mouth idk)

The mask and the paint feel very creative expression,very artist form. The desire to build upon a metaphorical blank canvas to make something Different. Straight up covering his face with a skull-esque image. Changing himself from the monster he was to a creature he wants to be (human, casey, etc.

And his choice to change his bo for an axe feels ever reminiscent of the "I can't fight advanced alien technology with a 7 foot staff" statement. Although his bo staff does have a blade now, he wanted More Blade. Just blade. He's giving serial killer energy. Mad scientist energy, even. The axe requires strength that he needs, and we all know from the vizioso incident that he would kill people on sight and this axe reflects that.

Also, the sensory profile: Potentially implies enjoying covered, being in dim spaces, enjoying having a solid material on his face and tolerating the feeling of paint on his skin.

Leo

Leo's interesting because he's the only one who kept his original weapons, and arguably deviated the least from his normal design. I think this a good example of Leo's autism behavior and his desire to keep things the same, holding onto the comfort of familiarity rather than taking the risk to jump into exploration.

The most notable difference being the bow and the arm garments (the guard and the elbow wrappings, likely to protect his arms from strain and the bow whiplash). I love how Leo adopted the bow to compensate for his knee being crapped out, a logical choice to focus on long distance range but still keeping his swords Just In Case (and probably internally hoping he'd still be able to use them well)

It shows Leo's leadership qualities, knowing when it's time to make sacrifices, adapting to new situations, changing for the better, and at the same time, the fear of the unknown and wanting to stay the same.

The sensory: Unlike Raph and Donnie, Leo's hood is a cowl neck. gee that's so interesting oh golly i wonder if something happened that made him not want something near his neck gee i wonder why

Mikey

And now I talk about Mikey's armor and paint. While I definitely think Mikey would wear armor to help keep himself safe because he gets hunted a lot, it also radiates "oh man do you know what would look SICK" and "Learn to be strong and calm, like the forest" "okay sensei got it ! *covers himself in wood*"

He chose wood pieces that still have branches sticking off of them, and with the way he painted his face and. general mutant turtle vibes. he looks more like a Creetur, shrekish. Mikey embraces the strange, the unheard of, the monsters and repulsive. Not covering himself with things to hide his turtle nature, but adding More to that nature. (perhaps we could interpret the paint and wood as camoflague, better blending in to his surroundings, being a better ninja)

I'm also reminded of the armor worn by samurais. A bold goal if intended, considering Mikey's inattentive and distracted behaviorisms. But perhaps that is what he aims to become, a noble and admired warrior, making logical choices to protect himself and trying to be better, growing up into a responsible and capable man. I will not mention the last ronin mikey i will not mention the last ronin mikey i will not

Enamoured by his choice of weapon as well. Splinter had specifically given nunchaku to Mikey, which makes me think the kusarigama blade attachments were a modification He made, likely to prove something to himself or his brothers, wanting to do more, as nunchaku are typically given to those in training to develop quick hand movements and good posture.

And then he has eliminated the chain entirely to just have a sickle of sorts. Sickles were traditionally used for agriculture and the same could be said for the kusarigama, but now they appear to have an association with assassination, once again bringing back this idea of wanting to be more dangerous, be taken seriously and doing more damage.

anyway

[ae-azile]

In your latest Progression chapter I loved how Namphueng did the cake announcing her sexual identity. It was such great idea and now I wonder what other characters would make as the same cake? What are others sexualities/sexual identities? Do they identify somehow other than gay? Kinn and Chay are gays but what about others? Is Porsche bi or pan? What about Tankhun and Arm? Also Kim expressed somehow being genderfluid and he is definitely demisexual or grey asexual. I think it would be extremely interesting for all of them to have some kind of discussion like that.

Namphueng loved her cake too LOL. She was very proud of it. I spent a while thinking of how the cake would look. While I couldn't find a cake that described what I wanted her to do, I did look up some reference pics for inspiration. Here are several that kind of fit some aspects of the style!

If you mix the aspects of these cakes all together, you sort of get what Namphueng accomplished. Girl worked HARD. It was so important to her because:

1. She remembers her first love, or at least bits and pieces. She remembers loving her deeply. I think creating a cake so elaborate and more suited for a small wedding was her way of committing to her true self, along with finding the woman she loved and clearly still loves.

2. She may have struggled with being her true self or being open about her relationship first time around. She isn't doing it anymore because every bit of her autonomy and happiness was kept from her.

So, yes! In Progression, Namphueng very much identifies as a lesbian. As for the other characters, some are probably up for interpretation, but I guess this is how I view them (at least for this fic).

Kim: I also see him as demisexual or sex positive ace. I think he is enjoying sex with Chay. A LOT. But he can only come to enjoy sex if he is in love with and feels comfortable with the person he is sleeping with. Since he struggles with being so guarded, Chay is his first. I think his romantic orientation is likely panromantic, but his trauma and seeing so many people in his family get hurt/killed likely made him push the idea of romance away for a long time.

As for the potential for him being gender fluid, I don't think it is something he feels like he needs to find a label for, but wouldn't deny it if asked. I think he does certain things and presents himself in a way that feels right. He likely leans towards more masculine presentations, but likes light makeup on occasion, doesn't align with overt masculinity or societal expectations for men, etc. I think he also likes looking good for himself, and sometimes looking softer and slightly more feminine is something that appeals to him.

Overall, I believe he struggles with labels for multiple reasons. He doesn't like following traditional or strict expectations, nor is he great at communicating clearly (although he is getting a lot better). I think he also falls into this limbo in between labels, so he doesn't know what to make of it. He struggles with seeing himself as asexual (especially now) since he is having a very enjoyable sex life with Chay. He should probably should look into demisexual. I think it will be something that eventually comes up, even though he doesn't feel a NEED to find a label. However, an explanation and a sense of knowing he isn't the only one may help. 🙂

Porsche: I think he is probably pan, but could also be bi. Episode 8 showed him express minor anxiety over dating a guy, although I don't know if it was the emotional or physical aspect that worried him more. Regardless, I tend to categorize him a little more as pan since that tends to take a meaning of "experiences sexual attraction regardless of gender". However, I also see him as demiromantic.

Khun: Despite his and Kim's personalities being extremely different, I also see him as demisexual, panromantic. Part of his demisexuality likely stems from immense trauma since he needs to be with someone who understands him and he's comfortable with, but I don't think the gender of that person matters. In fics, I often mention him having a girlfriend prior to his kidnapping. I believe I did in this fic too. Now, he's very much in love with Arm. And like Kim, he also might be gender fluid, but doesn't over think it and just does what feels right.

Arm: He's a hard one, but he could be demisexual too, and he may lean towards homoromantic. That isn't to say he doesn't like to be seductive though. He takes his shirt off when drunk for a reason. However, I do think he was repressing a lot of desires until he became more comfortable with Khun. So yeah, maybe demisexual/homoromantic.

Pol: He says he's straight! But I also think he is a guy who needs and deserves a lot of love. I don't see him hooking up with just any woman or being in a FWB situation. He is probably heteroromantic, but does find a lot of satisfaction in platonic love too.

Vegas: gay, but demiromantic.

Pete: demisexual, biromantic

Macau: He's saying he's straight in this fic, but I don't see him sleeping around like his brother likely used to.

Kinn and Chay : gay and gay

Milan's sexual and romantic orientation will also become more clear in flashbacks as well.

Thank you for the ask! 🩵

[vole-mon-amour]

3x09, part 2.

As you should!! Queen!! Whip his ass!!!

Strings that bind us? That one definitely hurt.

Jamie and Sam being besties. <3

That's what you chose to focus on? Really? :D For real though, I still don't understand where the show is going with Roy. One step forward, three steps back. If this is the last season, it's weird.

Rebecca is theeee queen. <3

They're not messing around with that password. Also, theft in the locker room? Interesting.

How to deal with 'friendly' teasing? Like this :D King :D

I LOVE this moment. I love that Trent is casually drinking tea and eating his orange, and Colin went straight up to him with 'Isaac knows" with no prelude. I LOVE that in Amsterdam it was Trent that asked Colin, "How do you do it?" as in asking for knowledge, and in here it's reversed. It's Colin coming to Trent. I love this bonding soooo much. It's so important. An older queer with a younger queer.

I love him, you honor. Imagine having Trent Crimm, Ted Lasso, and Jamie Tartt as your good friends that you can go to ans talk. Goals.

Queen!! Also, I love how Rebecca is often working with tea and/or biscuits on her desk. A foodie that isn't afraid to show it. She's come so far since s1, but then again, it's been said multiple times that real Rebecca is silly and wonderful, so I love seeing real Rebecca <3

She talks like Ted. :) More straightforward, but yeah. With Ted, Roy opened up on his own.

"But I guess I'm not that person." "Not yet."

In here, he feels threatened, vulnerable, so he shoots that "I just wanna be left alone" and hopes she lets it go. I see you, protective layers. I see you. I wonder if it's some kind of trauma/issue from childhood that he's so repressed. Bc I've been there & sometimes I still fight that or feel ashamed to talk about some things so I keep quiet or don't explain properly, but it's sooo much better to talk it through. And I guess Roy won't go to therapy, so Rebecca being like This is his way of therapy. She just doesn't want to deal with that bullshit.

I love her. She's great.

I need Nate to get his big boy trousers on and stop sucking up to Rupert. I hate Rupert so. fucking. much. Is there a thing as an anti fanclub? Because I feel like I'm in it during moments like this. Rupert's ego is already higher than the sky, but Nate is making it even worse. Ew.

When will Nate finally leave Rupert and gets back to Ted? Huh? Or stays with Rupert but actually fights him on that and say that Ted is actually great and should be allowed to go to their matches if he wants to. Like, ughhhh. It's so frustrating.

That's the worst idea EVER. He'll ruin you, Nathan. On the other hand, maybe you'll finally understand how evil he is.

It's been 16 minutes in this episode & so many things happened already? I'm surrprised. It feels like 30 at least.

Mae <3 The joy of having an older lady on the show that knows what she's worth.

I'll just leave it here. The way Rebecca doesn't hesitate to physically comfort Keeley. It was in s1? When she said she's not a hug person. She totally is. The real her. She's like female Roy Kent that is less repressed and will do anything for her people. Seriously, as soon as things shifted for her in the show, she had my heart. I saw her potential before things shifted & I loved that for her. She's amazing.

I feel like Jamie is best friends with the entire team. Look at them. They love him. They were playing before Ted interrupted them. No idea how it's called in English, only in my native language, but that's so sweet.

[lookbluesoup]

I've had a lot of people interacting with my post yesterday about wishing there was more fandom meta discussion and exploration of "missing moments" with... huge amounts of fear and insecurity.

And I get that it's hurtful to share stuff in a fandom space and potentially be met with silence. It's easy to feel drowned out or get overwhelmed in a big fandom. It's terrifying to be in an online space and potentially get harassed by assholes who think anyone who looks at canon differently from them are evil.

I have definitely left spaces before where one or both of those things were so prevalent that I didn't feel like it was worth it trying to be part of that community. Your feelings are valid, they're legitimate fears. But it really hurts my heart to see so many creative people be so afraid.

Based on what I've seen, I assume that many DO want a more interactive fandom experience, in spite of that anxiety.

I can't tell anyone what they should do. I can advise you that fear and insecurity usually come from the inside - from past hurts, and that understanding them and deciding you don't want to be afraid anymore, that you deserve a space and a voice, is an important step in being able to reach out and form healthy, genuine connections with people over the things that you love.

But you are the only one who can decide what's good for you. Maybe you need therapy, or a different fandom, or a different environment. Maybe you need to cut some toxic people out of your life. I'm a stranger on the internet and I'll never be able to answer that question for you.

In lieu of that, I'll share some tips that have generally helped me feel safe in fandom spaces even though I have sometimes have anxiety attacks just trying to talk to friends.

Block people. I am dead serious. This bit is extra long because of how serious I am. 1) You're deliberately putting your comfort first, and that's a good thing to practice and 2) You won't have to worry much about those people invading your space

You don't have to hate them, they don't have to be evil, you just have to decide this isn't someone who's opinions you want in your corner of fandom. If they keep posting way off base critique of your favorite character, or imply liking a ship/character is somehow evil, or are just generally negative and you feel worse after seeing their posts most of the time? Take care of yourself. Block them.

If you really don't like their takes, you can go into your settings and use the filter tool to hide posts that their username is mentioned in from your dash. You don't have to see them or deal with them. Ignorance is bliss.

This is not being mean, it's not being an asshole, it's not being insensitive.. It's telling yourself "My comfort matters." We're in a hobby space, here to enjoy ourselves. You can always unblock someone later if you want.

If someone sends you anon hate. Block anon. If you MUST reply to the ask to show your friends or get the last word in, screenshot it and post the screenshot to respond to. But click that menu beside the actual ask and block the shit out of that Anon. Afaik they'll be IP blocked, it will be much harder for them to send you additional hate. (Not impossible, but harder, and most will move on to easier targets.)

You are not "winning" by leaving them unblocked, you're not proving that you're brave or that they don't matter, you're just leaving yourself open to more abuse. Block anon hate.

Unfollow people if the content they put on your dash upsets you. You don't have to dislike them personally. You don't have to justify it. Being "mutuals" is often overemphasized on here. You can be friends, you can read their fics or send them asks and be supportive without having to see every single thing they share. Following is about curating your dash, not picking friends.

Don't post when you're angry. I know that person bashing your fav character is an idiot but do not vaguepost or call them out in a fit of rage. Take a step back, remember it's fandom and not the entire world. If the other person seems interested in discussion, you can have a good-faith talk about it, but don't go into it determined to change their mind. You're just exchanging information, and you're allowed to disagree. If they're only hating and clearly not interested in talking, then write something positive about your character instead, in your own post, and focus on maintaining a space with people who you actually like talking to.

Hopefully you're seeing that the above advice is about building a safe, manageable fandom corner for yourself, and feeling powerful enough to enforce it. That's important. You don't owe people online interaction.

Fandom acquaintances can certainly grow into strong friendships, but not everyone, or even MOST of the people in fandom, deserve to be your friend and all the social obligations that entails. It would be exhausting and stressful to do otherwise, and it's not practical.

Now for positive action!

Nurture a handful of good friendships. If you brought some to fandom with you, great. You're a book club now. Each other's main "support", who (hopefully) do genuinely enjoy talking together. Fandom at large might not always give you affirmation, but a few good friends who know you giving you that support will be much more meaningful and sincere.

Talk to people you like! Say nice things about their art, writing, or characters. Reblog from them. Show a genuine interest in talking to them and seeing their creations. I know it's scary, but if you're trying to make connections, you do have to reach out! Lots of us are scared and most of us don't hear that we matter to someone else often enough. Be the change you want to see. You may be surprised to find that opening a door allows others to come through it, too, and they'll often try to connect back.

Not everyone will reciprocate the interest, for a variety of reasons which won't usually be your fault. That's ok! If you like their stuff, keep supporting them because that's part of what keeps fandom alive, but look for friendship elsewhere. Even if it doesn't work out and you don't hit it off, you tried!

More people agree with your takes than you think. A lot of them might be scared, too, because going against fanon mainstream is intimidating. But you'll have a much harder time finding like-minded folks if you never share your takes/writing/art/etc for people to find. Putting your voice out there is an investment that might take some time to pay off, but if it makes one other person out there feel less alone and more validated, surely that's worth it?

You're allowed to change your mind. About characters, about people, about fandom, about yourself. You are not beholden forever to your first or second opinion about a topic.

[scurvgirl]

I was tagged by @energievie and @callivich to answer some fun Gallavich questions!

What’s a fic you’ve read more than once?

There's A Class for This by @sam-loves-seb. It is just so soft and normal and intimate and it just...it hits all the things for me. I love it so much.

What’s a gifset you always have to reblog?

A few scenes - the club kiss and the van kiss are definitely ones I will always want to reblog because they are just so so good. I also love the "you're so sensitive" deleted scene kiss.

What’s a headcanon you can’t stop thinking about?

Mickey exploring his wardrobe options and fashion sense. He clearly has an eye and a feel for it and I think it is something he would enjoy exploring years down the road when he's more comfortable in his identity.

What’s a fanart you love looking at?

All of them, but in particular I really really enjoyed seeing all of the AUgust dress-ups by @suzy-queued, those were so fun, I love them.

What’s an idea you’d love to create if you had the time/inspiration?

I want to write that fashion designer! Mickey AU so bad. I have lots of thoughts that are very scattered and disorganized.

What’s something you’ve discovered since entering this fandom? A new trope you love? A different analysis of the show? Something else?

My opinion on Debbie definitely changed following some analyses here on tumblr. I think I related to Fiona a lot and saw Debbie through Fiona's perspective and that really negatively colored my perspective. I will say that my ire has turned towards the writers, and writers for shows like this in general tbh, for honestly doing a shit job of portraying a sister relationship, even one as parentified as this.

What’s an underrated trope or concept you’d like to see more of?

I'm not sure!

What’s your favourite season? And has this changed after multiple rewatches of the show?

It switches between season 3 and 4...though I do like season 2.

What’s a plot hole you wish had been answered or resolved?

The cartel???? They after Mickey or not???

What scene or moment do you feel isn’t discussed enough?

In the show or in fandom because those are two separate answers. In the show? We all know that one. In fandom...hm. I've seen so many good analyses, let's see. Oh, this is going to ruffle some feathers but Ian going to Trevor after losing a patient on the ambulance and how that paralleled him running to see Mickey, and how different it was at the same time. Mickey immediately softened his demeanor, immediately put himself in a potentially unsafe situation for himself to comfort Ian. Trevor was thinking of himself in that moment, not about Ian, and I think it really encapsulates the differences between the two relationships. (NOTE: I don't think Trevor was a good romantic fit for Ian, I think it would have worked better as a friendship!)

What line/dialogue/description from something else (a poem, a book, a tv show, a movie, or something else) do you feel describes Ian and Mickey’s relationship?

This song - particularly "I wanted more than you could give me, so certain for a 15-year-old, something 'bout you feels like caffeine, pure gold."

I also like this song for Mickey specifically - particularly "I was far to scared to hit him, but I would hit him in a heartbeat now, that's the thing with anger it begs to stick around // It makes you hurt the ones who love you, you hurt them like they're nothing."

What do you think is next for Ian and Mickey post-finale?

Directly post finale I want them to adopt a dog, I think it'd be good for both of them. It can go running with Ian. Snuggle with Mickey. Be in their Christmas cards that Ian INSISTS they get now. For kids...I go back and forth on this, honestly. I think it would depend if Mickey was serious about putting the work into his anger and identity issues. I don't think they should or would rush into parenthood at all, I mean, they're still really young in the finale - 25 and 27. All things going well, I could see them pursuing parenthood in their late 30s tbh.

Thank you for the tag! I am very tired and feeling kinda shy since I haven't been as active as previous - but if you want to do this, feel tagged by me!

[silentmoths]

As Fragile as a Brick wall

Masterlist||First||Previous||Next

It's me, pulling my ass out of writers block hell to stress write a chapter because everything in my life is in boxes and I hate it.

Chapter 6: You really thought asking her out to dinner was a good idea, huh bud?

Zhongli x Afab (fem pronoun) Reader

NSFW elements in later chapters

Multi-chapter, Royal AU, angst, mentions of death, eventual fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort (Wonderful header image made by the wonderful @ainescribe)

You had definitely cracked a rib.

The blooming bruise, the pain when you breathed in, moved too quickly, or gods help you, sneeze? It was a dead giveaway. 

You were no damsel though, funnily enough, your ex-fiance had once shown you how he went about bandaging himself up after a particularly rough tussle with the captain of his own guard. So with little time on your hands, that's what you do. Strapping your torso in a way that prevented too much movement, but was also easily enough hidden beneath your clothing for the evening.

Between your thigh and your rib, half of you didn’t particularly want to attend this dinner with the king…but there was a part of you, that scared, lonely teenager who had lost her rock to lean on, that needed to know.

You stubbornly hide your limp as you make your way to the dining room. When was the last time this room had even seen use? You weren’t too sure. Not since your mother had died… none of you could stomach being in the same room as one another lest insults begin to fly. 

Seems even Zhongli’s touch had blown away the dust and dreary that had long since settled here. Dingy greys are replaced with warm reds, rich golds and warm, soft velvets. The room was…inviting, for the first time in many years. The table is set for only two, it seems he wanted to speak with you in confidance, though you had somewhat hoped that your place would be at the opposite end of the table, no such luck. One place set at the head, and the other to the left. 

He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d ordered old favourites. Roasted duck and candied orange, root vegetables, stews, the kitchens freshest rolls and hand-churned butter, smells from your childhood that flood your senses and make you feel warm and soft. Zhongli looks up from the scroll he had been examining and smiles, warm, bright and hopeful. 

“I’ll admit…I’m surprised you came…” He murmurs as you slowly sink into your seat with a slow, quiet exhale from your nose; like hell you were about to show weakness, no matter how badly your torso throbbed beneath the bandages. “But I’m glad… You must have many questions.” 

“Well you’re certainly not wrong.” You grunt, occupying yourself by washing back a flagon of mead, hoping the drink would dull something, anything.

“Shall I start from the beginning?” He asks, his warm smile and kind gaze never once leaving you, even as he takes a bite of his dinner.

“Well, I’d assume that would be the logical option.” You know you’re being short with him…but considering, well, everything, you felt like you at least had that right.

Zhongli nods, taking another slow bite of his food.

“It was the day your father started torturing innocent civilians…” he begins, lacing his fingers together as he stares deeply into the cup of red wine before him, watching his reflection distort back at him. “I had known for many months at that point that your father had truly begun to lose himself…but that day…something in his eyes…any semblance of the man he used to be…gone.” “You say that as if my father was ever a good man.” you reply, trying to recall any fond memories you had of the man…scant after the birth of your twin brothers. “I never said he was…but there comes a point in one's life where you can learn to ignore some of the atrocities…but then he reached a point where I could no longer…” Zhongli sighs, “I began searching for ways to dethrone him peacefully…but anyone who could potentially hold such power was so afraid of his wrath…if not his, then his sons…even the archbishop proved useless; and I as one man could not overthrow him.” “So you left.” you spit “you abandoned your kingdom-” “I had not intended to.” He pushes, letting one hand fall to the table, lightly brushing against your own before you pull it away with a sharp look “An opportunity arose and I took it…but I had never intended to abandon the kingdom…abandon you like that, your highness.”

“Well you did.” You hiss quietly “you abandoned this kingdom and left us…all of us…to the hands of my father… Do you know how powerless I was? Once you left I was nothing but a bargaining chip!” You feel the way your ribs throb in your torso and you grit your teeth, taking no small amount of pleasure in the way his eyes widen, it was nice to see his facade crack now and then. 

“You left… and he got worse, because he didn’t have you here to keep any sort of lead on him.”

Zhongli’s gaze falls again, unable to look you in the face as he considers his response, clasping his fingers together and unclasping them again. 

“At the time…it seemed as if my presence was no longer doing anything to hold him back… He became…hungry for more power, hungry to show your brothers what they would inherit…What atrocities he would allow them to commit… But when he began declaring war on everyone who would even look his way..I knew things had gone too far… you should eat before your food goes cold.”

You blink at him, and then down at your food before shooting him a look, he smiles in return, but you can see a hint of sadness behind it, a change form the usual warmth…for the first time, Zhongli looks…tired. The longer you look at his face, the more you notice it, the faint bags beneath his eyes, the tired haze…had it always been there? 

“On the field during that battle…I came across Xiao…a young child who was never meant to be on the field…but his knight commander demanded it…he was beaten and abused…but he fought like a god… when I killed his previous commander…he immediately bent his knee to me… it wasn’t long after that I met Ganyu… Ganyu actually hails from the outskirts of Liyue, but she and a small group of people had already begun to band together to do something about the king…I saw this group as my chance…and so.. “

“So you left…” you mutter, pushing a roasted potato around your plate. Were you angry at him? Or at yourself for being angry at him? It was hard to tell.

Zhongli nods with a soft noise “I had…never intended to remain away as long as I did… but if I stood any chance at overthrowing him… I needed to make sure those who came with me could handle it…Xiao is an excellent fighter, but at the time he lacked control, he could lose himself easily… I am just…grateful that when the night of the siege came… my old guard still remembered me…and you were not here to witness it.”

“Oh, what? So you could have forced me to marry you then and there?” you scoff, stabbing at the potato you had been victimising. “Glad I was away playing dignitary in Sneznhaya with the Tsaritsa and her overbearing little prince?”

“I-I would not have forced you to marry-” Zhongli starts, but you interject, slamming both hands onto the table as you haul yourself from your seat to glare daggers down at him.

“So you would hold my twin brothers hostage and trade them for my hand instead!?” You holler, dignity and grace be damned. “You knew I never once cared for their existence and yet you somehow thought I cared enough to trade myself for their freedom when you know damn well they never would have done the same.”

“I…I know.” he sighs, he remains where he is, staring up at you with amber eyes swimming with so many different emotions it’s hard to read. Regret? Grief? Sadness? “I will admit…I had, as Ganyu called it…an inflated ego-”

You snort a howling laugh, it was all you could do to keep the tears of pain at bay, even if you couldn’t quite pinpoint if it was physical or emotional pain that was making your eyes sting. “I’ll say! I’m sure I made such a wonderful impression, slicing those traitors heads right there on your brand new carpet.”

“You are angry-” “Angry? …Angry!?” You devolve into full on shouting, shouting loud enough that any attendants manning the doors eyes widen and they quickly shuffle from the room. “You have some fucking gall, your majesty.” you spit at him “thinking you could manipulate me into marrying you after you take the kingdom by force.” 

“I never wanted to manipulate you.” Zhongli rasps, actually shrinking back at the sheer force of your rage. “That was never my intention…”

“Then what was Zhongli!?” You seethe “You got what you wanted, the kingdom was yours, I never needed to be a part of your ideal! So why!?”

His next words fall from his lips without hesitation, his resolve strong as stone as he looks into your fiery gaze.

“Because I had made peace with my feelings for you many years ago, because I wanted to share this victory with you.”

“Wh-”

You blink and step back. It takes a moment to process, and when the words finally settle into your skin, they don't feel right. Too sincere, too honest.

Too true.

“Don't lie to me-” you rasp, but Zhongli shakes his head softly.

“I am not.” He tells you simply “Is it really all that surprising that after all the years I spent with you as your appointed knight did not culminate in my feelings towards you becoming more than just that? Your mother tried so very hard to keep you safe from the harsh hand of your father…and when she passed, I took that role without hesitation…because your smile was all I wanted.”

“S-stop it-” 

“If it were not for the fact your father already had plans, I would have asked him for your hand many years ago.”

“S-shut up!”

“You deserve to be a queen.” He presses, slowly rising to stand as you take a step back, emotionally? You had no idea where you were, why you were; but you needed to get away from him. “If anyone deserved to inherit this kingdom it was you.” 

No, nope, nuh-uh. You couldn’t take that…sincere look in his eyes. You hated him, you hated him for leaving, you somehow hated him even more for coming back. You hated his handsome face and his silky hair and his pretty eyes. You hated it.

Didn’t you?

“I know you do not trust me. Not after all I have done…but please…little love…let me earn it back from you…let me prove myself to you, like I did when I was assigned as your knight.”

Little love.

You hadn’t heard that name since your mother had died.

Words refuse to form on your tongue, you can’t think straight. Your ribs and leg are throbbing and he offers you his hand. You hated him.

You also happen to hate how the edges of your vision are beginning to blur, and how short your breath was becoming. Perhaps you had tied the bandages a little too tight, and only made them worse with your sudden movements.

You hate how Zhongli’s brow creases in concern. “Are you alright? You look whiter than a ghost-” his words are cut off when you take a step away and your knee buckles. Just like when you had fallen from the tree earlier in the day, he’s there to catch you, strong, but gentle arms wrap around you as you feel your world fading off for a short while, Zhongli’s wide, amber pools being the last thing you see.

At least he looked scared.

Serves him right.

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @theheartshaker @rjssierjrie Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 09 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3028 | ao3 link

That was way easier and better than I ever thought it could be. And sweet. Sweet and just so natural, like his kisses and his touch. Like the love I felt for him. Like the love he felt for me.

✦ summary: Dave and Nore find solace in each other and cave to their desires in the chaotic aftermath of a drunk driving accident.

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!, dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, drinking, drunk driving, car accident, vomiting, a little bit of hurt/comfort/praise, fluff, unprotected sex, mxf sex (explicit), oral sex, fingering, alcoholism/drinking issues

✦ a/n: this is a completely new part aaaand it's really explicit so keep it in mind if you're going to read it! also, since every chapter is named after a song, i made a playlist on spotify with all of them, you can listen to it while reading or just to get in the story's mood, it's right here and i will update it every time i post a new chapter. hope you like it, feedback is welcome ❤

✧ the sin I bring, called ecstasy ✧

Alright, whose brilliant idea was it to let a drunk driver take the wheel? 

Definitely not mine. 

Honestly, at that moment, it didn't seem like we had much of a choice. We were all wasted by the end of the day. We needed to get back home, and none of us had enough cash for a taxi ride from Joe's place to ours. A stumbling Lars volunteered to be the designated driver, and surprisingly, no one objected. We even cracked some jokes about the potential disaster, had a few laughs, and that was the end of it.

I don't think anyone was laughing now, though.

We stared in pure horror at the wrecked van. Lars had managed to crash it into a damn wall! Thankfully, nobody got hurt, and we were just a stone's throw away from home, but that didn't make things any better. Dave and Lars were fighting, Leanne was losing her shit, and I wasn't faring much better. My head was spinning, my breathing getting faster, and a rush of adrenaline sent panic coursing through my veins. Everything was spinning. I knew I had drunk too much. I knew I was bound to puke sooner or later. But at least I hoped I could hold it together until we got home.

I crawled over to someone's lawn and pretty much emptied my guts.

"You okay?" a voice chimed in. I glanced up and met James' blue eyes. He seemed somewhat sober, probably because he had passed out for most of the later part of the party, but I knew he was still pretty drunk.

"Do I look okay to you?" I grumbled, and he cracked up. I scrunched my eyebrows. Barfing my guts out was bad enough without an audience, but having someone witness the spectacle made it a whole lot worse.

"Maybe it's best if you go home if you're feelin' like shit. But you don't know the way, huh?"

"Does anyone here feel good? We’re all wasted and screwed with this accident. I'm surprised no one in this neighborhood has called the police yet."

"Yeah, maybe they will. Then we'll be even more fucked, right?" He laughed again and plopped his ass down on the sidewalk, keeping a safe distance from my vomit puddle. I had noticed it earlier, but he got really annoying when he was drunk. I focused on my trembling hands, trying to regain my composure. Take a deep breath, I reminded myself.

"What's going on?" Dave's slurred voice chimed in as he stumbled over to us. "Nore, what the hell happened?" 

I looked into his brown eyes, and they seemed to suspiciously fixate on James, as if he could somehow be to blame for my sorry state. I wondered what he thought was happening.

 "I was..." I gestured towards the puke pool, then spun around to continue unleashing the remnants of my stomach. Oh, lovely. 

He approached, all his focus on me, pushing my hair out of my face and gripping my waist to keep me steady. I leaned into his frame, grateful for the support, my heart still racing from the crash's adrenaline rush. My stomach wasn't faring any better; now that I'd expelled everything, an uncomfortable burning sensation was spreading through my belly.

"I think I've had too much to drink," I grumbled, fully aware of how my voice slurred and dragged. "How the hell are we supposed to go home now?" 

He glanced at the wrecked van and let out a resigned sigh. 

"Cliff's trying to borrow a phone from someone nearby to call a taxi. C'mere." Dave slung his arm around my shoulders and guided me towards the sidewalk next to the van, where Lars and Leanne were already planted on the ground. He helped me settle down beside them. He seemed a bit more composed now, but who knew if he was actually sober or just trying to hide his own level of intoxication. 

I plopped my ass on the pavement, my head spinning and my stomach doing somersaults. Somehow, I managed to hold back the urge to hurl this time. He sat down beside me, shooting me a concerned look.

"You look like hell," he remarked, and I burst out laughing, instantly regretting it as a pounding headache hit me. I groaned, wincing, and covered my face with my hands. "Come here." He pulled me close, letting me rest my head on his shoulder.

"I called a taxi for the girls and got hold of Joe. He's coming to help with the van," Cliff chimed in. "But we need some folks to stick around here and wait." 

"You, me, and Lars can hang tight," James suggested. "Nore and Leanne are not feeling well. Dave can take 'em home." 

Cliff glanced at me, clearly realizing how sick I was. He squatted down next to me and ran his hand through my hair in a soothing gesture. 

"Bit too much to drink, huh?" he asked, and I grumbled in response. "It's okay, go home and get some rest." 

I nodded, hiding my face against Dave's chest. Cliff settled down beside Leanne, doing his best to soothe her as we waited what felt like forever for the cab. Finally, it arrived, and Dave, Leanne, and I hopped into the car. The driver dropped off Leanne at her place, and Dave hopped out to make sure she'd be alright while I stayed put. When he returned, he took the seat next to me in the back.

"Feeling any better?" he asked, and I nodded, leaning my head on his shoulder. He gently stroked my thigh, sending a pleasant shiver through my skin.

When we got back home, I hopped out of the car and headed straight to the bathroom while Dave took care of paying the taxi. I quickly brushed my teeth to get rid of the nasty taste in my mouth and splashed some water on my face. The vomiting had sobered me up, but my head was still pounding like crazy. Dave walked into the bathroom, holding a glass of water and a pill in his hand.

"Got this for you," he said, offering the pill. "You know, to help with the headache."

"Oh, thank you, Dave," I whispered, grateful for his thoughtfulness. I took the pill and swallowed it with the water, letting out a sigh. I couldn't help but notice how my hands were shaking slightly.

"You alright?" he asked, coming closer and gently stroking my face, unsure of how to comfort me. "You've been on edge since the accident. I mean, yeah, it was a total mess, but we're all safe now... Back home, no harm done."

I sighed. The accident had triggered more than just nerves and panic in me. The aftermath was just a tiny part of a much bigger turmoil in my head.

"It's just... This wasn't my first car accident. I guess that’s why I got so nervous," I confessed, and then looked into his eyes. He stared at me intently, his hand moving from my face to my lower lip, his finger tracing the curve of my mouth slowly. My body heated up, suddenly aware of the closeness between us. I let out a sigh, deciding to open up and share what had been troubling me. "Last year, on my 18th birthday, me and my friends went out to celebrate. We got wasted, and when it was time to call it a night, I was the one behind the wheel... Ended up crashing the damn car." I blinked, realizing my eyes were getting watery. It was strange. I had never talked so openly about this with anyone; I felt so ashamed, especially after getting kicked out of my own house. I just hoped Dave wouldn't hate me after hearing all this. "I got hurt. And I hurt my friends too. Dave, I... I'm not the good girl you think I am. I've fucked up big time." 

"And does that matter?" he whispered, his face inching closer to mine. His eyes were serious, and I could feel his breath brushing against my lips. "You’re not a bad person because of that, Nore. And I love you... Your past doesn't mean shit. I love who you are right now."

I locked eyes with him, a shiver running through me as he leaned his hands on the sink, one on each side of my body. He was so close that it made my heart race. And there it was — the electric charge that sparked every time he got too close, the tension building up deep in my gut whenever he touched me. I lightly brushed my fingers against his lips, my breath hitching with anticipation, and let out a soft sigh as he kissed me. Our tongues danced slowly together, his hands gripping me so tight against his body that it was almost painful. 

He broke the kiss to swiftly yank off my shirt, and a little gasp escaped my lips as he started kissing my neck, sucking gently and leaving love bites all over my skin. I felt his fingertips trailing lightly over my back, sending tingles down my spine, until they reached the clasp of my bra.

I flinched suddenly, feeling my face burn and my breath quicken. He froze.

"You want me to stop?" Dave asked, his voice low and husky, a concerned look on his face.

"No," I whispered, looking into his eyes. He stared at me, seeming a bit unsure for a moment, before gently stroking my face.

"Come here," he took my hand and led me to my room. My heart raced as he closed the door, leaving the lights off, and pulled his shirt off, kissing me again. His skin felt hot against mine and my breath hitched as he sat on the bed, pulling me onto his lap. I straddled him, my knees on either side of his hips, and let out a sigh as his lips went back to exploring my neck.

His hands went back to my bra as he removed it slowly. I shivered as I felt the cold air against my skin and even more when I saw the way he looked at me. He lifted his eyes to look at mine, his gaze clouded with anticipation while holding me firmly in his arms. I giggled when he lifted me effortlessly, laying me down on the bed and positioning himself on top of me. He traced the outline of my nipple slowly with his fingertips, making me breathe deeply.

“Dave…” I whispered, and let out a quiet whimper when he sucked on my nipple, his tongue circling it slowly. I moaned, feeling my whole body on fire while he sucked on my breast leisurely, his hand grabbing my hip strongly. He grumbled, a low and satisfied sound, and the vibration of his voice against my skin sent shivers throughout my body.

His hands gripped me tightly on the hips, so strong that I squirmed, a low moan escaping from my throat. He bit my nipple lightly, massaging it with his tongue, and I couldn’t help but moan louder. It hurt a bit, but it was so good that I never wanted him to stop. He did it again on my other nipple, his tongue savoring every inch of my skin while I buried my fingers in his soft hair. His lips explored my skin slowly, kissing and licking and sucking on my breasts, my collarbones, my neck; I knew my skin would be covered in purple marks the next day, but I couldn’t care less. 

When he pulled away, he held my chin in his hand, making me look at him. His eyes were intense and hungry, and they seemed as lost in gazing into mine as mine were in his.

"If I hurt you, you have to tell me," he spoke softly, his hand caressing my cheek slowly.

"Okay," I whispered in response.

"Promise me," he asked, lightly kissing my lips. I nodded.

"I promise, Dave."

He nodded, his eyes serious as he unbuttoned my pants. I helped him take the rest of my clothes off quickly, letting out a small sigh when he saw me naked for the first time. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face, looking somewhat stunned as his eyes roamed over every inch of my skin. I slowly caressed his chest with my hand, tracing the outline of his collarbone with the tips of my fingers. He brought a hand to my hair, gripping it firmly before leaning over me and kissing me on my lips again.

I whimpered when he grabbed my thigh with one hand, opening my legs and then touching my pussy, caressing it slowly, making my whole body shiver. I lost myself in his gaze, admiring his faintly flushed cheeks, his lips slightly parted while his eyes looked into mine. I moaned softly when he penetrated me with one finger, and then another, moving them slowly inside of me, exploring me at such a cautious pace that it bordered on tortuous. 

“Does it hurt?” he asked in a husky tone. I shook my head to assure him it didn’t, my lips slightly parted and my face flushed, and moaned when he moved his fingers inside me. He let out a soft laugh. “Fuck, Nore… You’re so beautiful.”

He leaned in, kissing my neck, his lips gently tracing the contour down to my shoulder and collarbone, leaving a trail of small kisses as he went down and kept moving his fingers leisurely inside me, in and out while he curled them softly. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back when he pressed his tongue against my clit, his hot breath tickling my skin. 

“Oh, Dave…” I moaned, holding onto his hair with one hand. He chuckled softly, seeming to take delight in my reaction, his breath quickening against my skin. I felt my own breath quicken while I enjoyed the combined pleasure of his fingers and his tongue, my legs shaking lightly as my back arched and I moaned. 

He reduced me to a trembling mess of moans and whimpers as his tongue explored my pussy slowly, sucking and licking my clit while his fingers moved inside me, my whole body on fire as I felt the knot of pleasure in my womb grow tighter and tighter. I let out a muffled cry when he stopped, his mouth coming back to mine, his fingers slipping out from inside me and leaving an uncomfortable emptiness that pulsed, yearning for more. I groaned in protest, almost begging for him to touch me again.

“Wait… Just a bit” he whispered while taking off his pants quickly. He gripped one of my thighs, lifting my leg while laying down on top of me. I melted into a breathy moan when I felt him start to penetrate me slowly, and flinched a little as pain and pleasure intertwined inside of me. “Nore…” he moaned, nuzzling my neck, his erratic breath against my skin as I wrapped my legs around his hips with a low moan while my body adjusted to his size “Ah…” 

I moaned when he started moving carefully. Any pain I felt was slowly giving way to the pleasure of feeling his sweaty skin against mine, his lips kissing me greedily, his fingers intertwined with mine as they pressed my hand against the mattress, and him, inside of me, making me feel things I didn't even believe were possible to be felt until then.  

He pulled away a bit, still moving slowly, and my eyes met with his. I knew by his expression that he wanted to devour me. That he was holding back, because he didn’t want to hurt me. But I wanted more of him, too; I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, allowing him to penetrate me deeper. He moaned softly, his control over himself faltering while his hand gripped my hip and he pushed hard inside of me. It was so good, feeling his warm body against mine, his fingers digging into my skin as we lost ourselves in each other.

He started moving faster, his breath becoming more erratic as he let a few muffled moans escape from his lips. I let him hold me against his body, the pain now completely forgotten as the pleasure of having him inside of me invaded my body, the knot of pleasure growing in my womb until it became almost unbearable.

“Nore, I’m so close…” he whispered, his voice almost pleading as he buried his face in the curve of my neck, one of his hands gripping my hair tightly while the other supported his body.

I couldn’t answer, I couldn’t even think straight while I closed my eyes, allowing his lips to explore my skin, the constant rhythm of his movements increasingly intensifying the knot of pure ecstasy growing inside me until I moaned loudly, feeling the pleasure inside of me become unbearable under his touch, allowing my orgasm to run through my whole body, making it spasm and contract. He grunted, shuddering and holding me even closer when he couldn’t stand it anymore and reached his high, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he came inside of me. He sighed deeply, his face hidden in my neck while he caught his breath, my own breath shallow, my eyes closed as I felt the warmth spreading through my body in waves.

That was way easier and better than I ever thought it could be. And sweet. Sweet and just so natural, like his kisses and his touch. Like the love I felt for him. Like the love he felt for me.

Dave let out a sigh, rolling off my body and snuggling up next to me. He pulled me close, and I hugged him tight, burying my face in his chest, soaking in the smell of his skin and his cozy warmth as I relaxed. His lips on my forehead and his hands caressing my back were the last things I remembered before falling asleep in his arms.