#i also don't know anything about shooting

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (12/?)

Part Summary: You know Leigh well enough to recognize that she never acts without intention. She must have agonized about this too—about that kiss, about you. And she's making it difficult for you to guess just what conclusions she had come to in the time you were apart.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.500+ | Warnings: Smut | Author's note: I honestly don't know what else to write in the summary without giving too much away, so without further ado… P.S. No cliffhangers this time ;)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI

-

A week after Thanksgiving, as the icy Maine wind whips across the tarmac at Rockland Airport, you find yourself holding a container of lobster cakes—your mother's way of sending a piece of home back with you. Despite her protests about you cutting your visit short, she spent last night in the kitchen, crafting your favorite dish, the smell of butter and ocean filling the house. “Eat these when you miss home,” she had said, pressing the container into your hands with a sad smile. The decision to leave early was anything but easy.

You initially planned to stay five more days in Camden, but Leigh's radio silence prompted you to book a direct flight to Los Angeles. It was eating you up inside; you had to go back. The familiar dark screen of your phone kept you on edge; you hadn't expected Leigh to strictly follow through on her promise not to contact you. She had a way of doing the unexpected. Or maybe you've been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you underestimated how deeply she wanted you that night. And perhaps you've overestimated your own anger, believing it would even slightly lessen your feelings for her.

Sitting in the window seat with the whole row to yourself, you stare at your phone as the flight attendant's voice crackles over the intercom, signaling it's time to switch to airplane mode. Impulsively, you tap out a text to her.

Belated Happy Thanksgiving, Leigh. If you’re free tomorrow evening, maybe we could talk? Perhaps over dinner?

It’s straightforward, maybe too much so, but it’s sent before you can overthink it.

The flight attendant's voice fills the cabin once more, reminding everyone to switch their devices as the plane is about to take off. You comply, toggling the setting and sealing off any immediate replies. The engines roar to life, and as the plane ascends, you try to push away the knot of apprehension tightening in your stomach.

As you wait to fall asleep, you think about Leigh—whether she’s seen your message and what she might be feeling. You wonder about the time apart, recalling the old saying that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Or does it make it forget instead?

-

You touch down in L.A. just as the date ticks over to December 1st, the clock a little past midnight. The moment the plane reaches the gate, you grab your phone and switch off airplane mode. There's a message from your mom, checking in to see if you've landed safely, and you text her back to let her know you did. Suzie has also texted, saying Foreman called in sick and asking if you can cover at the clinic later. You shoot back a quick reply, saying you just landed, you'll catch some sleep, and might be in late in the morning.

But there’s nothing from Leigh. No text, no missed call, nothing to indicate she received your message or is interested in meeting.

You sigh and, without thinking, tap her name on the screen. The call goes through, and the phone rings as you make your way through the late-night crowd at LAX. It continues ringing, unanswered, until it finally clicks over to voicemail. You mutter a soft curse under your breath. Of course, she's not going to pick up—it's 12:30 in the morning. You consider sending a quick apology text but then reconsider, figuring you've already pushed enough boundaries by calling her this late.

Instead, you slide your phone back into your pocket and head toward baggage claim. You weave through the half-awake travelers and the sterile glow of the airport lights, finally spotting your suitcase trundling along the carousel. You heft it off and make your way through the automatic doors. You glance one more time at your phone, half hoping for a notification, but it's blank. With a sigh, you head for the exit, feeling the exhaustion settle in.

-

You check your inbox first thing in the morning, but there's still nothing from Leigh. You don't have time to overanalyze this again because you're already running late for work.

-

The whole day is swamped, with emergencies piling up alongside a packed schedule of immunizations and follow-ups. Suzie mistakenly booked an entire week's worth of scheduled vaccines for today, a Saturday. She explains that the clients requested to move their appointments to the weekend, adding, “We're closed on Sundays, so I thought today would work.”

You try to hide your frustration, not wanting to lay the blame on her. Your nerves are already frayed, and every hour that passes without a word from Leigh has you feeling more on edge.  As you tend to your patients and give instructions to the staff, you feel the pressure building, a headache beginning to throb behind your eyes. The never-ending stream of clients leaves you with no time to catch your breath. Between each appointment, you plaster on a polite smile, but inside, you're counting down the minutes until you can check out of, well, everything.

As the clock hits seven, you can't take another minute. The clinic has been a madhouse since the doors opened. You barely glance at Suzie as you callously tell her, “Close early. I'm tired.” Without waiting for her response, you trudge straight to your office and slump into your chair, eyes closed against the harsh fluorescent lights. Resting your head back, you exhale slowly, letting the tension drain from your shoulders. The fatigue wraps itself around you like a fog, and for a moment, everything falls away.

A few minutes later, you hear a gentle knock. It's Suzie, standing in the doorway with a paper in her hand. Without opening your eyes, you mutter, “What is it?” Your irritation seeps through, but you’re too drained to rein it in.

Suzie hesitates before stepping into your office, her expression unreadable. She extends the paper towards you. “It's my resignation letter,” she says quietly.

Your eyes snap open, and the paper feels heavier than it should as you take it from her hands. You’ve been nothing short of awful to her all day, snapping at every turn. 

“Is this about today?” you ask. 

She gives you a small, weary smile and points to the date on the letter. “I wrote this last week, right after you left for Maine.”

You glance down at the letter and see that it’s dated exactly a week ago. “Why didn’t you give it to me sooner?”

“I didn’t want to ruin your vacation,” she says softly. “I know how much you needed that break. And honestly, you’ve got enough on your plate right now without me adding to it.”

You can feel the burn of frustration and shame behind your eyes. “You’ve been a rock here, Suzie. I don’t want you to go. Please reconsider.”

She shakes her head gently. “I’ve thought this through. It’s time. I care about this place, and about you, but I need to move on.”

You let out a long breath. “I see. Still, I'm sorry today was so rough,” you say, looking up at her wistfully. You try working your puppy eyes, and for a moment it seems effective as her expression softens into a frown. 

But then she says, “It’s not the clinic or the work I do here. I got an offer for a research position; it's something I've always wanted to try.”

That makes you smile. If that’s the case, then you’re truly happy for her.

“I understand. I wish you hadn't felt the need to keep this to yourself, especially with everything else happening today,” you say, still clutching the paper tightly in your hand, crumpling it slightly.

Suzie shrugs. “I didn't want to add to your stress. Don’t worry, I’ll count the 30 days' notice from today, not the date on my resignation, so you have time to find someone to replace me.”

From that, you know her mind’s already made up. As you read her letter again, your eyes start to sting. You glance back up at her, your vision blurring. “Suzie, thank you,” you mumble thickly.

“Hey, it's okay,” she says gently. “I'm not leaving town. We can still grab lunch whenever. I know how glued to your desk you get, so I'll drag you out for a bite now and then.” You let out a shaky chuckle, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

“It's just—I’m going to miss you, and I don’t know how I'll replace you,” you say with a sniffle.

“Missing me is a given,” she says, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Actually, I might know someone interested in my job.”

Your ears perk up at that. Good help is hard to find these days, especially with more demands from applicants and a tight job market. “Who?” you ask, curious.

Suzie turns around as if she's going to leave without answering, but then she glances over her shoulder, her smirk widening. “Sara.”

-

A little while later, you catch Suzie just as she's finishing up in the lobby.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll lock up. You’ve done enough today,” you say, sending her home. She gives you a grateful smile, slings her bag over her shoulder, and wishes you a good night before heading out.

Finally alone, you take a moment to decompress. Clasping your hands behind your back, you stretch, trying to release the day's tension. A dull ache climbs up your spine, reminding you how tight your muscles are. Unable to hold the position for more than a few seconds, you relax, the discomfort too much to bear. It's hard to tell whether it's from the long-haul flight yesterday, your age creeping up on you, poor posture, or all of the above. 

On a whim, you book a late-night yoga session at the Beautiful Beast, hoping to relieve the tightness in your back. It’s been a while since your last visit.

Afterward, you head to the small bathroom in your office to get ready. It's basic, not meant for much more than washing hands and changing scrubs, but it’s all you've got. Stripping off your day's clothes, you step into the shower, letting the hot water beat down on your back. The steam fills the tiny space, and the heat melts a bit of the stiffness away. After a quick rinse, you towel off and slip into your yoga gear. The stretchy fabric feels liberating after being in stiff work clothes all day. You roll up your yoga mat, tucked behind the office door, and switch off the bathroom light.

As you're about to head out of the clinic, you check your phone, hoping to see something from Leigh. There's nothing—she hasn’t even read your last message. The stonewalling feels all too familiar, and you're tired of it.

You slide into your car, letting out a weary sigh. As you start the engine, thoughts of Suzie's suggestion to hire Sara sneak back into your mind. You can't help but chortle at the idea—it’s so unexpected, almost comical, considering how you know Sara and her standing friends-with-benefits proposition. It feels far-fetched, and knowing Suzie, she was likely just teasing.

The drive to the fitness studio is as mechanical as it gets. You're hardly aware of the turns you take until you park in front of the building. You step out, mind still elsewhere, and open your car door—right into someone walking by.

“Ow!”

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—” you start to say, cutting yourself off when you see who it is. 

Leigh, of all people, is rubbing her elbow, wincing. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, and she’s wearing a plain white shirt under a jacket, paired with simple black tights. 

“See me? Lovely excuse,” she quips, her eyes fixed on her arm rather than you. Her expression is primed to unleash more frustration when she finally turns to meet the source of the blunder.

 “I—” Leigh stops, visibly surprised to see you. Quickly, her face smooths into something more neutral. “Y/N. You…you really should watch it.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. “Are you alright?”

She rubs her elbow once more, then nods slowly. “Just startled me a bit, but I’m fine.”

Once you both regain your bearings, you unconsciously begin rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, hesitating despite the things you’ve rehearsed in your head all week. Your text message inviting her to meet tonight lingers at the forefront of your mind. But before you can bring it up, Leigh catches you by surprise.

“So, you’re heading in for a class?” she asks casually, as if the last time you saw each other didn’t end with a kiss and a confrontation that put the aforementioned kiss on hold.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I am,” you reply. Then you remember Leigh doesn't work here anymore, but with her mother owning the place, it's no surprise to see her around occasionally. 

Still, you ask, “How about you?”

“You mind if we walk while we talk?” Leigh suggests.

You nod, a little thrown off but managing to say, “Sure, just let me grab my stuff.” 

She waits a few seconds as you gather your belongings, and then you both start walking toward the building. Leigh sets a brisk pace, always a step ahead, and you find yourself almost hurrying to keep up with her.

“I just got back to working here again,” she says after a beat.

Surprised, you ask, “Oh, how did that happen?”

“Long story,” she replies with a slight shrug, her eyes focused ahead.

Unsatisfied with her vague answer, your eyes drift to her lips. Memories of that last kiss flood back—their soft, velvety feel and that distinct taste that’s all hers, like fresh water after a long, grueling hike. It's a taste that's unmistakably Leigh, nothing else like it. As you walk together, you struggle to stay present. This isn’t at all how you pictured your reunion with her would go. Not by a long shot.

“Leigh,” you call out, stopping abruptly. Your voice comes out higher than intended, quivering a bit. You clear your throat and try again, “D-Did you get my text yesterday?”

Leigh glances back over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. “No.”

The bluntness leaves you momentarily stunned. You wait for her to follow up, to ask about the text, but she doesn’t. As you both step into the Beautiful Beast studio, you start to ask if you can talk later, but Leigh gets there first.

“We can pick this up later, Y/N. We should really get to class,” she says, heading into the room full of waiting students without waiting for your answer.

You're left more stumped than ever. Last time, she was almost on her knees, begging for forgiveness. Now, she's acting like nothing happened. How did everything change so much in just a week? With a head full of questions and doubts, you roll out your yoga mat and try to focus on the practice ahead. You can't help but wonder if the kiss you shared with Leigh really happened or if it was just a mirage of your desires.

You struggle through some of the poses, wobbling and nearly toppling over more than once. Leigh, however, doesn't chide or correct you as she used to; she mostly leaves you alone, focusing instead on helping others who are struggling more than you. It makes you feel strangely isolated, even though you know she's just fulfilling her role as an instructor and there are plenty of beginners in tonight’s session.

As the hour winds down, Leigh's soft “Namaste” signals the end of the class. She bows gracefully to the students, and you don't waste a moment, rising immediately to make your way to her as she rolls up her mat.

“Leigh.”

“Hey,” she responds breathlessly, not looking up. Other students pass by, thanking her, and she responds with smiles and cheerful “see you next times.” You stand there, feeling awkward as you wait for a turn.

When the last person leaves, Leigh finally looks up at you. “What's up?” she asks.

You find yourself stuttering, still fixated on the text message. Feeling a bit pathetic about how much it’s affecting you, but you shake it off, remembering why you cut your visit to Camden short. It was because of this—because of her.

“Leigh, can we talk? About... you know, how we left things that night?”

Her face remains jarringly impartial as she wipes down her mat. “Talk? Here? Right now?”

You quickly shake your head. “No, I don't mean right this second,” you clarify, watching her closely to gauge her reaction. Are you the only one feeling like you're on a tightrope? 

“You haven't had dinner yet, right?” You try to sound nonchalant too, but it's a struggle.

She looks around the emptying studio as if she needs a moment to consider. After a few beats, she nods. “Sure, why not? I’ll just change and meet you out front.”

You can't help but smile, mainly out of relief that she said yes. “Great, see you in a minute,” you say, realizing you need to change into drier clothes too.

Fifteen minutes later, Leigh steps out, looking refreshed as if she didn't just burn through a few hundred calories leading a rigorous yoga session. She's wearing a cozy gray sweater and cargo pants, a much more laid-back look compared to your jeans and cardigan.

As she draws near, she tilts her head slightly and says, “I actually brought a car. Have you thought of where we're going to get dinner?”

You scramble to think of a suitable place. In-N-Out pops into your head—quick, easy, but completely wrong for the kind of talk you need to have. You can't imagine hashing out your feelings under the harsh lights of a fast food place, over burgers and fries.

“Um,” you stammer, looking around like inspiration might hit you in the face. 

“How about we head to your apartment?” Leigh suggests out of nowhere. “It's closer, and we could grab some drive-thru on the way.”

You blink at her suggestion, surprised she'd even consider it after everything that went down last time at your place.

“There's only one parking spot,” you say blankly. “And the street has no parking after 10 p.m.”

Leigh seems unfazed, offering a quick solution. “Then we’ll just take your car. I can leave mine here.”

Your nerves flare at the thought of having her back in your apartment. Your tongue feels heavy, and you can't think of a single reason to tell her why it’s a bad idea.

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Let's do that.”

You head to your car together, fumbling with the keys as you unlock it. Leigh slips into the passenger seat, and you take a deep breath before starting the engine. You pull into a drive-thru of In-N-Out and Leigh scrolls through her phone, picking out what to order. 

You know Leigh well enough to recognize that she never acts without intention. She must have agonized about this too—about that kiss, about you. And she's making it difficult for you to guess just what conclusions she had come to in the time you were apart.

-

The takeout is spread across your dining table, a small feast that Leigh ordered for the two of you. Boxes of fries, nuggets, and burgers crowd the surface, enough to feed a group. You barely nibble on a fry while Leigh is already finishing her cheeseburger, wiping her fingers with a napkin and eyeing the remaining food.

“You weren’t hungry, huh?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Guess not,” you reply, wiping away the residual salt from your fingers.

Leigh takes a sip of her drink, washing down the last bite before looking at you with purpose. “Mind if I go first?” she asks.

You narrow your eyes. So, she's eager to dive right in. “Sure, go ahead,” you say. You observe Leigh closely for the first time in what feels like ages. Concealer cakes beneath her eyes, settling into the natural wrinkles there. She’s still undeniably beautiful, but there's a tiredness to her now that’s hard to miss. Her cheeks, usually lifted by her prominent cheekbones, seem hollowed out more than usual.

“I guess I want to start by saying that I'm…” Leigh trails off, her eyes darting around as if the right words might be hidden among the packets of ketchup and silverware. “...a horrible person.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she cuts you off smoothly.

“No, listen. You were right. I ignore you out of nowhere. I take advantage of your kindness. And it’s not just you—I’ve been doing this with everyone around me for a while now. I haven't cared about what others think or feel because I was focused on being true to myself, always playing the ‘dead husband’ card. I’ve taken everyone's patience and understanding for granted, and I’m really, really sorry.”

You sit back, stunned. The whole evening, you'd braced for a different kind of conversation. You expected Leigh to say the kiss was a mistake—just a result of nerves or a lapse in judgment driven by jealousy. You had been so sure she'd shut you down, just like all the other times. 

“You're sorry?” The words slip out unbidden, tinged with surprise and skepticism.

“Yeah,” she says, looking you square in the eye. “I know it's hard to believe, but I really am sorry for how I've treated you.”

It’s going well—too well. Your mind struggles to accept it, but your heart?

“I thought you were going to say that night was a mistake. That the kiss meant nothing,” you whisper so faintly, almost as if you don't want her to hear.

“It kept me up for nights,” Leigh replies just as softly, “and that doesn’t usually happen to me over a simple kiss.”

Your heart soars.

She doesn’t regret it. She’s sorry. This is all going too well.

“It was on my mind the whole time, even when I was all the way across the country,” you whisper wantonly. 

The corners of Leigh’s lips twitch upward, and you can't tell if it's a good sign. Her saying she’s just as affected blinds you to any other cues that might suggest otherwise.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” Leigh says darkly, leaning back into her chair with a weary slump. “Because I’m done living in half-truths and half-realities. I can’t handle any more surprises.”

You feel a flash of confusion, trying to stitch together what Leigh might say next. She knows about your cheesy alter-ego on her advice column, the details of your past with Matt. But half-truths? What does she mean by that?

Leigh meets your gaze, and there’s something about her stare that tells you she’s coming apart, yet she's clenching every muscle to keep herself intact. You want to reach across the table, to offer a touch that might steady her, but her hands are hidden, clenched in her lap beneath the table. Her shoulders hunch, making her seem smaller, as if she's trying to fold into herself.

“Leigh, just tell me,” you urge, though not impatiently.

She exhales slowly, the breath you hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I broke up with Danny,” she finally says, and for a brief, absurd moment, relief washes over you. 

That's…it? 

Your smile starts to form, naive in its inception, but it’s quickly stifled as Leigh’s voice drops lower, and her next words cut through the nascent joy. 

“And then he said something I didn't think could drive the dagger Matt left in my heart any deeper,” she says slowly, like she’s having a hard time dragging every syllable.

Leigh takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling deliberately. “He told me he was pretty involved when you and Matt got together. That you first knew him as Nick, and he helped Matt reach out to you.”

Your heart sinks. You had almost forgotten that night with Danny when you discovered his real identity and how he fit into everything. He'd begged you to keep quiet, and in his desperation, you agreed—not because he pleaded, but because you believed Leigh was happy with him. It wasn’t your secret to reveal, not then.

You've known this all along and never said a word. Your throat tightens as panic sets in, your heart racing with the implications of having kept this from Leigh. Guilt pricks at you, cold and sharp.

“I…” Your voice falters, and you swallow hard, thinking, This is it, this is how I lose her. 

“I didn’t think it was my place to say anything,” you say. “I thought you were happy with him. I didn’t want to be the one to—”

“Y/N,” Leigh interjects softly. Her tone stops you cold—it's not angry, just… defeated. Which, somehow, feels worse. She looks down, twisting a napkin between her fingers. “I’m telling you this because I’m finding out that secrets can be just as hard to handle as loss.”

You nod absentmindedly, still processing, and move to clear the table in a daze. Wrapping up the leftover food, you tuck it into the fridge. The mundane task doesn't ease the tightness in your chest, but it gives your hands something to do.

“You’re not upset I didn’t tell you?” you ask, like you can’t believe you’ll come out of this conversation unscathed.

Leigh takes her time to answer. With your focus on tidying up, you miss the way her hands ball into fists. When she finally speaks, her voice has a steely edge for the first time this evening.

“At first, I was livid, of course. But Danny bore the brunt of it. He claimed he wanted me, but he was never on my side. If he were, he would’ve never helped Matt cheat on me.”

You finish tucking the last container into the fridge and lean back against the counter, your eyes on Leigh. She's staring out the window. How is it that she’s telling you these things, yet it still feels like she’s not revealing anything at all?

“I should’ve told you sooner,” you say softly. “I’m sorry.”

Leigh gets up and walks toward you. She stops so close that your breath catches. You remember the last time she was this near, how the world blurred, and how hard it was to think clearly. You can see the way her jaw tightens as she takes a breath.

“It wasn’t your secret to tell,” she says.

“But—” you start to say, though the thought fizzles out as she steps even closer.

“You're okay in that regard,” she murmurs, her voice low. 

In that regard? 

You want to ask what she means, but Leigh shuffles nearer still, her eyes searching your face. She's so close now that you can see the faint reflection of the kitchen light in her eyes, specs of yellow in darkened green. It’s nothing short of dazzling.

“Do you forgive me for last time?” she asks quietly. 

A lump forms in your throat, and all you can think about is how desperately you don't want to mess this up. You had forgiven her long before stepping onto a plane back to Maine. It happened as soon as you let her walk away that night, but you just couldn't accept how easy it was. 

You nod, unable to trust your ability to speak. 

Leigh's eyes soften as she watches you. Her fingertips brush against your jaw, her touch feather-light. 

“Is it okay if I kiss you, then?” she asks, both careful and seductive.

Your resounding yes comes in the form of you closing the gap, your lips meeting hers like an arrow striking its target. Leigh’s arms wrap around your shoulders instinctively, her fingers brushing the back of your neck, and you pull her in even tighter, deepening the kiss. Her breath mingles with yours as she sighs softly against your mouth, and it’s only then that when you feel all of her that Los Angeles starts to feel like a second home.

There are still questions, an unending list that always surfaces around Leigh, but they evaporate one by one when her tongue flicks out, seeking entrance. You surrender, lips parting, allowing her to taste you. The kiss grows with a messy urgency in seconds. Her hands roam down your back, gripping tightly as she presses in, as if trying to melt into you. You draw her nearer, your chests flush together as the kiss becomes wet and breathless.

Your apartment is silent except for your soft pants and the slick sounds of your lips meeting.  Doubts about your ability to please a woman creep in after such a long hiatus. But before these thoughts can take hold, Leigh takes charge. She grabs your hips and gently guides you backward toward the bedroom, cutting off any chance for you to slow things down.

She breaks the kiss just long enough to slip your cardigan off your shoulders and whisper, her breath warm against your lips, “Should we take this somewhere more comfortable?”

It seems almost unfair for her to pose that question while simultaneously moving to your neck, drawing a soft groan from you. Her teeth gently graze a sensitive spot just below your clavicle, applying pressure that promises to leave a mark, then soothing it with her tongue.

Leigh smirks when she feels you struggle for breath, much less for words. Your knees buckle slightly, but she holds you up with a firm grip, guiding you back until you bump against the edge of the bed. 

You know you're on the verge of something that might change everything, but right now, you're entirely Leigh's. There's no space to consider the implications, to remember that she was Matt's grieving widow just months ago. Right now, she's just the girl who holds your attention completely, the one who couldn't get rid of you even if she tried.

Leigh tumbles with you onto the bed, her thighs straddling your hips. With practiced ease, she removes her shirt and bra all at once, leaving her bare above you. The sight strips you of any last coherent thought. She isn’t the image of perfection peddled in glossy and well-curated social feeds; her body is beautifully real. Her tits look heavy and asymmetrical, round as grapefruit; her nipples pinkish-brown, pebbled and inviting. There’s a soft fold in her belly, and an overwhelming desire washes over you to kiss it. You think you might die just from looking at her.

You look up at Leigh and tell her, reverently, “You’re so devastatingly beautiful.” 

Leigh's cheeks flush as she tries to hide her smile behind her hair. “You don't have to tell me that,” she whispers. “You already got me into your bed.”

You chuckle, nerves still humming under the surface. “You were just as beautiful when devouring a cheeseburger.” Both of you laugh, the sound light and easy, allowing some of the thick sexual energy to dissipate slightly. 

You find yourself relaxing just enough to admit, “I'm not sure how to touch you right, but I want to make you feel good.”

“Just do whatever feels good for you,” she suggests, her expression softening further.

You scrunch your face a little at her, letting out a small chuckle. “That’s the thing—I haven't been getting much action myself.”

Leigh’s smile spreads wider into something mischievous and you swallow dryly at the sight. She shifts off your lap and settles at your side, propping herself up on one arm to look down at you. “Let me help you with that,” she murmurs, her voice low.

You're no longer smiling, feeling your face flush as you ask, “What do you have in mind?”

Instead of answering, Leigh’s fingers trace down to the button of your pants, deftly unfastening it. She gently scratches the skin beneath with her fingernail before sliding the zipper down. You watch as she bites her lip at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear before glancing back up at you. Her pupils are wide, the deep green of her irises barely visible in the surrounding darkness.

“Take them off,” she instructs softly.

You swallow heavily and do as she says, trying not to cover yourself despite feeling incredibly vulnerable. You haven't been naked in front of anyone in so long, and you're embarrassed by how exposed and wet you are right now.

Leigh watches you closely, and you can see the desire burning in her gaze. With her free hand, she reaches for you, her touch gentle, coaxing your thighs open as she trails her fingers up your inner thigh. You draw a sharp breath and close your eyes, expecting her fingers to graze your wetness next.

But Leigh surprises you—and herself—by guiding your right hand just below your navel, her fingers warm and sure on your wrist. Her times with Danny were about dominating and taking, but with you, she wants to give, to watch, to soak up every moan, every breathy reaction, every shiver. She wants to see you take pleasure for yourself, deriving her own pleasure from it.

“Start there,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear. “Tease yourself.”

Your hand hovers there, and she gives a slight nod of encouragement. As her touch slips away, you begin to explore the softness of your own skin, tracing light circles below your belly button. You utter a soft, “Fuck,” when your fingertips graze your slick, discovering just how turned on you really are. The filthy noises it creates make you whimper.

Leigh watches you hungrily. “You should be doing this more often,” she murmurs, eyes tracing the movement of your fingers now glistening with your own arousal. “You're so fucking hot. It's such a shame.”

The sound of her voice makes you arch your back further, hips bucking as you start a wide circular motion against your clit. Exerting every ounce of control not to come right away, you focus on the sensation of Leigh's eyes on you and the stimulation from your own fingers. You want to hold out, to let her watch you teeter on the edge. Your teeth dig into your lower lip, trying to curb the wave of pleasure building inside you.

Leigh's voice is a soothing command, whispering, “That's it, be patient. Don't rush it.”

“Fuck, Leigh, I’m—” Your words die in your throat as she lifts your shirt slowly, exposing your nipple to the cool air for a brief moment before her mouth engulfs it. The sensation of her sucking, then laving your nipple with her tongue, circling it, mimicking the motion you're doing on your clit, sends a jolt through you. Little flicks of her tongue to the tip of your nipple drive you crazy, and you gasp, your body responding eagerly to her touch.

Your rhythm stutters as she discards her pants and panties in one swift motion, leaving her gloriously bare. The sight of her naked body ignites a strong wave of desire to touch her instead, but Leigh pins you with a warning glare, silently telling you not to stop.

She straddles one of your legs, and you gasp when you feel her warm, wet pussy against your knee as she starts rocking against it. You position your leg to give her better leverage, and she starts sliding against you, her tits bouncing with each motion. Leigh's sucking on your nipple becomes sloppier, more frantic, until she can no longer concentrate and releases it with a wet pop.

“Oh, fuck, Y/N—” 

Leigh’s face contorts in pleasure as her drenched folds meet your thigh over and over, sweat dripping down between her breasts from the strain of holding herself up above you. The sight of her fucking herself against your leg is nothing short of mesmerizing. You increase the movements of your fingers, rubbing harshly at your clit as you watch Leigh, her breath coming in short gasps. Her eyes flutter closed, and a soft moan escapes her lips. The sound drives you wild, and you curve your spine, lifting your hips to meet your own hand.

Sex with anyone else has never felt this good before, and she hasn’t even properly touched you yet. It’s intoxicating, the way she takes her pleasure and gives it to you all at once. You’re lost in the haze of it all: the smell of Leigh’s arousal, her sweat-soaked skin, the sight of her tits bouncing and her face flushed with desire.

With your free hand, you grab the back of Leigh's head, guiding her down towards you. “C-Come here,” you manage to say, your voice breaking with need.��

Leigh obeys, her mouth meeting yours in a frenzied kiss. You swallow each other's moans, the taste of her lips sending a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. It's this simple, sweet connection of lips that utterly dissolves all your defenses.

A keening moan escapes you as Leigh slides a finger inside you, pushing deep to the third knuckle, causing your head to tip back and break the kiss as the tightness in your belly becomes too much. “Leigh, can I—” Your voice is a mere whisper, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.

Leigh's eyes meet yours, and she nods vigorously, her breath coming in short gasps. “Yes, come. Come with me.”

It's too much—the sight, the sounds, the feel of her—it’s all too much. With a final, shuddering whine, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you. Your body convulses, muscles clenching and releasing as you ride out the intense pleasure. Moments later, Leigh follows, her body shaking as she comes, her moans mingling with yours. Leigh’s face is a picture of bliss, her eyes half-closed, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. You try to memorize it before she collapses on top of you, a sweaty mess of tangled limbs and satisfied sighs.

Blindly, you stare up at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath, feeling Leigh's hot puffs of air tickle your neck as she catches hers. Slowly, you circle your arms around her waist, keeping her on top of you, acutely aware of every point where your skin meets hers, the warmth spreading between you. 

You bury your nose in her hair and breathe in deeply. This act feels more intimate than anything you had done moments ago. The simple closeness, the quiet afterglow, the way you can actually feel her heart beating steadily against your chest.

Minutes pass in comfortable silence, your thumb tracing lazy patterns on her back. Her breathing gradually evens out, each exhale growing softer and deeper. Realizing she's fallen asleep, a contented smile spreads across your face. You press a gentle kiss to her temple, letting your lips linger there for a moment. Carefully, you reach for the covers and draw them over both of you. You hold her close until your own eyelids grow heavy, and you drift off to sleep as well.

[evilminji]

I think I figured it out?

My favorite thing to do with Danny? And the Zone in General?

Is to just... zoom out a bit, maybe move stage left, leave the trouble and (most of the) dramatics of his teen years behind and just? Discover that not all of Death is War. Not every Obsession is violence.

Sometimes it's owning a fancy little soaps shop. Or that PERFECT garden of their dreams, where they can share with EVERYBODY, that they could never manage in life. Maybe it's the universe biggest Comics library.

Yeah, when you can't die and pain is kinda subjective, a good ol fashioned brawl IS the best way to communicate. Fist to Fist, ecto to ecto, come out the otherside understanding each other a bit better. But like?

.....you could ALSO just use your damn words, you know? Maybe some of us don't WANT to fight.

The freedom to Do Anything? Means a good chunk of us will say "Nah, we good". And move on to do other, non-violent things! Not every Area of the Zone is the SAME you know. It's like countries. Or, well, Galaxies? Since it IS far more spread out then any country will ever be.

It's why Danny probably didn't notice. Thought his area was all there is. It's the standard "my neighborhood is the default. Normal for everywhere" mindset that people unknowingly tend to have before they travel much. It's not like he had any chance to learn otherwise.

He had school in the morning. Had to stick close in case a fight broke out. How FAR could he truely travel? The end of the metaphorical street? The next block over? The Far Frozen alone was pushing it!

But then! He defeats the Tyrant of his Area of the Zone. And it's like a map filling in, in the back of his head. Perfect outline of what's "his" and "not his". And??? Wait, wut?

Why is he not surprised the Observants fuckin Lied? Pariah wasn't King Of Everything! He was king of... *head starts to violently hurt as he tries to grasp the scale of things* ow, Ow, OW! Bad idea! BAD IDEA!!! A chunk? Yeah, big chunk! Let's go with that!

It was APPARENTLY like saying "ruler of the known world". Other countries very much still existed, just APPARENTLY didn't count. Good to know! AFTER THE FACT.

At least HIS territory likes the "Wooooo! Anarchyyyyyy!" Goverment model. Frees him up to do other shit. He can come back to it LATER. But FIRST? :) Get? :) The FUCK :) Off his lawn! :) *kicks everyone back through the portal* *closes it* AND STAY INSIDE THE ZONE!

Abuse of power? Sorry, he can't hear you over his magically recovering sleep schedule and GPA. The fact he might ACTUALLY graduate. His new favorite past time of watch the GIW slowly losing both their funding AND minds. Mmmmmm~ relaxing!

He graduates.

He is the son of crazy people with a shit GPA. His parents may have finally come around on ghosts, started over on their research... with a frankly ALARMING enthusiasm, but? You can't undo decades of damage. The Fenton name is untouchable.

He applies anyway.

Goes ghost for the first time in over a year.

Is... bigger. Starlight and ice. Royal. It feels right, settled in a way. More HIM then his skin could ever hope to be. He notes it, but doesn't linger. Decides to find out what's OUTSIDE "his" territory.

And...

Huh.

The answer depends?

In one direction? An endless battle. From horizen to horizon, like shooting stars. Crashing and smashing, weapons clanging and ringing. Mad blood stained grins. Worthy opponents. A challenge that goes on forevermore.

He...backs away slowly.

Going sorta, up-ish? Leads to a weirdly muted stillness. Muffled. He can't find anybody. But the doors here are pretty... worn. He doesn't want to keep pushing.

Finally, he tries at an angle to the right. And? Spots a patrol? They look nervous to see him, but hold their ground. He asks what's in this direction. Is polite. They look incredibly relieved.

Which is how Danny? Learns about the SINGLE BEST thing ever. The thing I actively fantasize about. Long for. And gift to him because I can.

Floating island cities FULL of highly specific little shops and passion pursuits. All for damn near free, because they are mostly doing it for THEM and you just happen to be there. The islands go one for days in every direction. Overflow with color and sound and the flash of ghosts flying too and frow.

Stunned, Danny, jaw on the floor. Wanders the streets.

Finds a space themed shop and feels his eyes dilate like a cat. Mine ™. He gets a book on "First Astronaut's of their Species" and some BESPOKE space meme socks. Looks around. Decides that this? This is where his doing ALL his shopping from now on.

He's pretty sure he sees a shop dedicated solely to canned food from across the Multiverse.

There is a sale on corn(non radioactive), apparently.

He tells EVERYBODY. Well, Fenton and friends "everybody". But you get the idea! The shopping trip they organize? Is legendary. His Father finds a Fudge shop and probably scares the local ghost population with his mad Fudge Glee cackling. Mom found a weapon smith. And an old fashion lace maker. Jazz? Lost to the world of intergalactic boy bands and psychology textbooks.

Tucker made a running slide straight for the nearest tech shop. Then the butcher. And Sam?

........m....maybe if he doesn't ask? He can claim plausible deniability?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @lolottes @nerdpoe

[accio-victuuri]

5/16/24 LRLG post + interpretations ❤️💛💚

so it’s not enough that we’ve been struggling for the past days, they really put meaning to the saying of “when it rains it pours”. at least they let people sleep and then released this in the morning. it is an unusual posting time cause it’s usually evening or even late like 1:00 AM but not this early.

original link from the rumor house is here. i will omit some parts and just explain what happens but i tried to preserve the integrity of the post. all of this is fake. if i missed some cpn related to this, feel free to comment or just reblog and add on. enjoy ^^

XZ: "Do I have to buy the flowers myself? I can't spend hundreds of dollars."

WYB: “You don’t need to buy it and use it at home. The bottle is also pretty.”

XZ: 🙄

WYB: “Your skills are really top-notch now.”

XZ: "Why don't you try to be more yin and yang?"

WYB: "Well done. Well done."

XZ: “Don’t let me go if you don’t have any symptoms”

WYB: "You know if I have a fart or not, I'm so awesome."

XZ: "gun"

WYB: 😘

XZ: "There is also gas in the mouth"

WYB: 🙄

XZ: "Hey, your skills are also top-notch."

WYB: “I can’t compare to you, but practice makes perfect”

XZ: “It’s boring.

WYB: “Come and play”

XZ: "If you don't want to play, you won't come from xx"

👧: "Looking for me, I won't delay the fun of you two"

WYB: "Then shall we leave?"

👧: “I also know that practice makes perfect”

WYB: “Excuse me”

XZ: "Whose number should I use?"

WYB: "I'll log in for you

Yibo really be buying useless stuff again. lol. I can only imagine him scrolling through shopping apps in between takes and ordering everything. Thank you ZZ for being the voice of reason. LOL. and them complementing each other’s skills in gaming, even the log-in, we think is for the game. && how they are trolling each other talking about gas/fart, it’s so them 😂😂😂😂

the part about the kiss emoji makes us think that wyb kissed xz but then xz had to comment like that lol and be a gremlin 😂😂😂

i saw one guess that the bottle/vase he is talking about where you can put flowers may be a souvenir from abroad that wyb gave him

WYB: XZ believes in Buddhism and doesn’t believe in anything.”

XZ: “Watch me assist”

WYB: "You are not playing support role."

XZ: "Okay, I won't go even if you call me daddy."

WYB: “Don’t help, you still have to help”

No but seriously i will pay good money to watch them livestream a game lol. to those who are not familiar of why XZ was saying “call me daddy”, it’s a common quip among people. kinda like saying “im your father” cause i’m helping you and more superior than you— nothing kinky okay?

WYB: “Where did the cat come from?”

WYB: "Can I not hear it when it’s meowing at me? "

WYB: "What to record"

WYB: “So where did the cat come from?”

WYB: “Questioning you on behalf of 🌰🌰”

WYB: “Oh, great shooting”

people are thinking it’s this chonky cat that xz got attached to

and all of us are cackling at how wyb is “asking for 🌰🌰” because his dad is being a traitor and looking at other cats! 😤😤😤 yibo is so loyal to their daughter lol

WYB : super cold, i’ll eat a fried egg for you in awhile

WYB: look closely, i’m going to eat one for you (fried egg = sun that just appeared ☀️)

WYB: i ate it too early, it’s not fully cooked yet

WYB: sure, i’ll wait for you to eat a cooked one

i swear their conversations don’t make sense unless you have some background. cpfs are saying here that it means, wyb gave xz a fried egg ☀️ and then xz ate a cooked egg, the way he did it in that milan vlog

and like, if we are talking about a literal egg, that was featured as well in the Milan vlog 🍳 so could that be a bit for bobo? a literal easter egg? lol.

next part is bobo asking xz why doesn’t it look the same to him and how xz hasn’t responded to the group chat. and how he will call him later 📲

them having a gc is not even a secret but just 🥹🥹 that must be one hell of a group chat to be in.

WYB: “How was the restaurant you ate at last time? Let's go there when Zhan ge comes."

🧔‍♂️: "Their ribs are amazing, but the chops are not as good as they should be. Why don't we order one for you tonight and try it?"

i won’t include this part anymore but it’s a conversation between yibo and members of his staff about food and what to eat. i love how wyb is always thinking about xz when he sees something that is good to eat. feeding xz is really his love language. i’m cackling how they are conscious about the carbs to eat. planning what and where to eat with your loved one seems so simple but really special too. there were talks about fruits, which we know what xz is fond of eating in CQL BTS. ( sorry for the screenshot lol xiao zhan i love youuuu. you have no bad angle! )

there was also a part that wyb was telling them to buy blueberries and the staff is like: "Just tell me what you want to eat and I'll give you whatever you want" but yibo was all "Let's see what he wants to eat" 🥹🥹🥹 it all depends on XZ.

and then this scene in the wedgwood ad. which is most likely a coincidence. but still 👀

WYB: “Look at this big pot”

XZ: Saw it

WYB: "I won't let you try the dishes in advance."

XZ: "If you want to eat, just say so and don't take the blame."

👧: Boss Xiao, we have already eaten it.”

XZ: "Grateful and thankful"

WYB: "Why are you so happy?"

XZ: You guys are going to have another meal in two days.

WYB: ☺️☺️🤭☺️🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍

XZ: "Eat quickly and fight again when you get back."

WYB: “🫡Received”

XZ: "Idiot, hang up, bye"

WYB: "Bye"

with this fake rumor i feel so soft cause having a meal together is something they look forward to. i especially loved this comment from a cpf which u think perfectly explain why this romantic: But I especially understand how dad feels. . . When you are in a long-distance relationship, if you already have a date for your next meeting, you will really feel like you don’t want to taste the delicious food you want to eat with you before meeting! Just like "I want to share the surprise of the first bite with you" is the real thing. I only want to taste one-fifth of the taste. I want to wrap this little bit of deliciousness with the anticipation of seeing you soon. I want to see you soon. I have been stuffed to the brim these last few days, so that the day I see you I will explode with happiness!” 🥹🥹🥹

next part is wyb talking to a staff about eating and then this one, yibo! give your assistant a vacation! and well the boss is not taking a vacation too sooooo….

👧: “When can I take a vacation?”

WYB: "Anytime, if you have anything to do, just take a break."

👧: “Want to take a big vacation”

WYB: “It’s early then”

👧: “This year’s Qingming Festival and May Day are all in vain”

WYB: "Have arrangements been made for May Day?"

and the final part of the rumor contribution:

WYB: "Where"

WYB: “Okay, be safe.”

WYB: "I don't have time to ask you to keep the fake house.

WYB: "good"

-END

[thewertsearch]

ERIDAN: im just saying wwhere the fuck wwere you guys ERIDAN: i had to deal wwith those awwful angels all by my self ERIDAN: do you havve any idea howw hard those assholes are to kill ERIDAN: like at least a minute of sustained fire from only the most legendary wweapon evver and they wwere FAST and ANGRY as SHIT

That's fucking terrifying, what the fuck?

Even without a maxed weapon, John was able to kill a First Guardian Imp in well under a minute.

Eridan's 'angels' survived significantly longer, while under fire from a significantly more powerful weapon. They're massively more durable than the most dangerous Underlings in the game, despite their session's Kernels containing weaker material.

What the fuck are these things made of?

KARKAT: I REALLY DON'T THINK YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE KILLING THEM DUDE. KARKAT: I KEPT SAYING, I THINK THEY'RE LIKE GAME CONSTRUCTS OR SOMETHING. THERE TO SERVE SOME OTHER GAME PURPOSE, NOT FOR YOU TO HUNT DOWN. KARKAT: THEY DIDN'T EVEN GIVE YOU ANY GRIST, YOU IDIOT. THAT WAS YOUR FIRST CLUE.

Far from being random Underlings, these angels are starting to seem kind of important, actually.

Like Jade's frogs, they represent one of the dual traits of their Land - and Jade's frogs are mission fucking critical. Did these angels also have an endgame purpose to serve?

If so, just how badly has Eridan fucked us over?

I don't know for sure if this quote is related, but Sollux described angels as 'terrible' beings who 'usher in the end'.

If these are the the LOWAA angels, then they almost certainly did have an endgame role that Eridan didn't discover.

Guys, I’ll admit it.

Eridan is kind of funny.

Karkat is really worried, isn’t he? He’s desperate to keep his team safe, even though most of them aren’t really listening to him any more.

Everyone gave this guy so much shit for being an ineffectual leader, but even now, he's taking his responsibility very seriously. Most of the other trolls would have thrown in the towel by now.

Six hundred hours.

This campaign went on for six hundred fucking hours, and Eridan still isn’t leaving Feferi the fuck alone. Did shooting all those angels not let off a little steam? Come on, man.

FEFERI: […] Eridan, you weren't really serious about going to find Jack, were you? ERIDAN: of course i wwas ERIDAN: and wwe should do it together ERIDAN: youvve got nothin to fear noww ivve reached a neww heights of powwer no one else can dream of […] SOLLUX: thii2 ii2 the mo2t hiilariiou2 thiing ii've ever heard, he made one of hii2 2hiitty fake wand2 glow a liittle and now he thiink2 he'2 a faiiry god troll or 2omethiing, lmao! ERIDAN: wwas that slander just i heard i cant evven tell ERIDAN: i tend to block out noise from filth wwhose blood is practically the complementary fuckin color a mine

I hate to admit it, but this behavior is actually fairly realistic. The whole world has collapsed, and Eridan is grasping for anything he can latch onto, to provide some semblance of normalcy.

Unfortunately, and predictably, he has latched onto classism like a limpet.

[delicious-in-imagines]

Nsfw headcannons for Laios, Mithrun and Kabru??? 👀👀

I love them very much 😁 (I'm soooo normal for them, so so so normal)

*rubs my grubby lil hands together* :)))

NSFW below the cut, as per usual! Spoilers for Mithrun!

Requests are still OPEN!

Laios Touden

You have the full authority to bully this man - I promise you that he enjoys it. He wants to be so good for you, sitting on his legs as he looks up at you, awaiting each and every instruction. For him, it's all about fulfilling your desires and wishes, anything you ask of him, you don't need to repeat yourself.

Grope and grasp at his body, that little bit of extra padding that he has, and feel free to add some stinging remarks to the fondling. His chest is especially sensitive, Laios letting out the cutest little gasps as you take a handful each and squeeze. That adorable blush of his will paint across his skin and up his neck, even to the tips of his ears as you coo and sneer at him in equal measure.

He loves to have you on top of him, riding him into the earth as he holds at your waist like a lifeline. He'll babble out whatever he's thinking, usually interrupting himself while he's gasping about how beautiful/handsome you are on top of him, how thankful he is to have you in his life.

We all saw the way he ties ropes, but this man is no rigger - he's a bunny through and through. He'll teach you each and every knot that he knows, showing where to place them on his body while he can barely contain his excitement as each line grows taut. Eventually, he's wrapped up for you like a pretty little package, blushing and already fixing to burst at the seams.

He's usually starving after sex, so grabbing a bite is definitely part of his aftercare. He'll offer you up some food as well, lingering by your side and enjoying the warmth of your bodies, and the feeling of your fingers carding through his hair. He's always got this dopey smile on his face after the deed, something that lingers even while he conks out afterwards.

Kabru of Utaya

Kabru is a 'try anything once' sort of guy, so if you come up to him asking to try something new in the bedroom, he's not going to shoot you down. There are some things that he might need some coaxing on, especially if it involves inflicting pain on you - though he is conscious of the fact that he won't know his limits until he pushes against them, at least a little.

He loves to have his hands bound under him, the slight burn in his shoulders and the grating from trying to 'struggle' his way out of his bindings. It leaves him at your mercy, looking up at you with those bright blue eyes as you take your fill of him, knowing that he's 'powerless' to stop your roaming hands and teasing mouth.

The trust between you is a turn on to him all on its own. Knowing that at any given point, he could say the word and you would stop without any hesitation is part of the thrill. It's the safety within those walls that gives you both the freedom to explore your desires - and knowing you're enjoying yourself is intoxicating in its own right.

When he's alone, or sometimes if you're interested, he'll engage in orgasm denial, squeezing the base of his length, or using a snug ring to stop his pleasure in its tracks. You can keep this up until he's weeping from both his eyes and his arousal, paired with the previously mentioned bindings, he'll be begging for release which only you can provide - if you're feeling merciful.

A bath after your activities is a must, not only to wipe away any sweat and fluids, but also to just enjoy some casual nudity and each other's presence. He'll pay extra attention to any marks that he's made, rubbing gently against them while you talk about what went well, things to try next time, etc., ...

Mithrun of the House of Kerensil

The easiest way to work Mithrun up intentionally is to clamber into his lap, draping your arms around his neck and drawing him close. After a display like that, you're not getting away from him. If you try to pull away he'll settle his hands on your hips and grip you closer. It's only after some heated frottage or Mithrun sparing a moment to teleport whatever offending articles of clothing away to get to both your arousals that he'll finally let you go.

Any undue attention towards you from anyone is another quick way to get him riled up. He'll grab your wrist to tug you away, sometimes sending the offender outside of the walls, before pinning you to a nearby wall with barely any semblance of privacy to have his wicked way with you. He'll press teeth and open-mouthed kisses to the length of your neck, his actions speaking where his lips would not.

An easy way to turn the tables on him is to speak so sweetly to him, calling him handsome, cooing at him and complimenting him. It knocks him off balance, and it's the perfect chance to get him on bottom. Lavishing his body in reverent touches and kisses, he turns into a mess, and will often bring a hand up to try and hide his face.

The two of you have a fair collection of toys - though usually it's to use on him. Part of his newfound desires is the exploration and deepening of those, and the more that you can potentially overwhelm him during those intimate moments, the better. Little enchanted trinkets that with a tiny bit of mana can vibrate, or some select pieces that Fleki or Lycion suggested to the pair of you embarrassingly enough, the potential is endless.

All of the aftercare will fall to you. Making sure that he eats something light and rehydrates, knowing that you'll both probably need to rest pretty soon after. On some rare occasions though, he'll still your hand and check you over, rubbing and pressing kisses to some of the harsh marks that he's left behind - his favorite reminders that you choose to stay with him, that he's your first pick, even if you could have anyone else.

[debonairprincesposts]

You answered my question perfectly and I'll be sure to request more Lucifer in the future (love our short king). But this time I'd like to request Charlie x reader angst if that's okay (totally not inspired by your last request 😅 and sorry it's a bit long).

Reader planning an evening out for their 1 year anniversary (with help and ideas from Lucifer), based on when she's supposed to be back. It's not until later on in the evening the reader finds out she's forgotten/changed her mind and gone for an evening out with Vaggie instead. Reader leaves a crumbled note on top of a bouquet of flowers and a new dress/suit they had brought just for her and that evening. Note is your typical breaking up and leaving, with the reader leaving the hotel to try and not be found and blocking her number.

Omg anon! I have no idea where you keep getting these ideas from! They’re absolutely *Chef's kiss*

I also just love how the reader and Lucifer are basically just bonding over Charlie. And I don't mind how long your messages are! I just love reading you guys' thoughts.

Anyway! Here is the angst you requested! Hope you like it :)

Enjoy (。•̀ᴗ-)✧

Forgotten

Charlie x Reader

You were filled with anticipation for today, a mix of excitement and nervousness. After all, it's your and Charlie's one-year anniversary! Your desire is to ensure that the day is flawlessly wonderful! You plan on buying her a gift and giving it to her during dinner.

One small issue tho-

You have no idea what to get her.

Maybe you could ask someone? Someone who's known Charlie for a very long time. Someone like maybe-

Lucifer!

Surely he'd know! He is her father after all. Surely he wouldn’t mind you calling about a matter such as this, right?

In slight anxiety, you pick up your phone to dial in Lucifer’s number. He gave it to you once Charlie revealed you two’s relationship to him. Saying to call him should you need anything cuz you are his ‘future Child-in-law’. You just hope he’s free enough to answer his phone.

He picks up on the third ring, “Hey kid! How are you doing these days?”

“Hello sir! I just uhm- kinda need your help with something.”

“Of course! Whatever you need, dear! What’s up?”

“Sooo- today is Charlie and I’s 1 year anniversary and I don’t know what to get her. I plan on buying her a gift and taking her out for dinner, but I have no idea what I’m supposed to get her. Do you perhaps have any ideas?”

Lucifer let out a gasp, “Totally! Maybe you can buy her new suit? She loves those.”

That’s brilliant! How come you didn’t think of that before!

“That’s a marvelous idea, sir! Thank you for your help!”

“Always happy to help, dear! Have fun with your anniversary!”

You both bid each other goodbye and hang up.

Okay! Time to go shopping!

You spent three hours trying to find the perfect suit. And it was absolutely beautiful. It should fit Charlie like a glove. She’ll absolutely love it. Now! All that needs to be done is give her this suit to wear and take her out for dinner! You try to give her call, but it went straight to voicemail mail. Worry fills your heart. It’s getting closer and closer to the time of the reservation and she’s still out of sight.

It’s getting pretty late, you’ll miss your reservation if you don’t leave now.

You go down to the lobby, maybe someone knows where she is. You see Husk and Angel Dust at the bar. Maybe they know.

“Hey guys! Have you seen Charlie? I haven’t seen her since this morning.”

“Haven’t seen her either, toots. Why? You need her for something?” Angel Dust turns to you as soon as you get closer.

“I’m taking her out for dinner, but she won’t return any of my calls.”

“She’s been out with Vaggie since this morning. Hasn’t been back since.” Says Husk before taking a swig of his bottle.

“I-I see. Thank you.”

Husk and Angel shoot either other a worried glance as you left. You were a pretty good friend to them. They didn’t like seeing you upset. But they figured it’s best they give you some space.

Another hour passed. You had completely missed your reservation. Being by yourself for a bit gave you time to reflect on your time with Charlie. It made you realize that this wasn’t the first time she’s done this. It always felt like you were a second priority to her. Every time you’d want to spend some time with her, she’d always make excuses about how she already made plans with Vaggie. And you know what? You’re done. If she wants to hang out with Vaggie so bad then you won’t stop her.

In your fit of heartbreak, you write a letter. The letter’s contents are that of a break up. Explaining how you’re done with her. How you’re done with always being second place. How you’re always second priority. You spent three freaking hours picking out a suit for her just for her not to show up.

After finishing up the letter, it being all crumbled from how hard you were gripping it and being stained with your tears, you take the bouquet of flowers you were going to give her and leave it on her bed next to her suit.

This is goodbye.

You start packing your bags. You weren’t going to stay with someone who never cared for you as much as you cared for them. When you’re done, you leave your phone behind. You’ll make sure to buy a new one with a new number and everything.

You exit through the fire escape and never look back.

And just like that, you’re gone.

Another request fulfilled!!! Finally! I was struggling with how I’m supposed to write this, but I think I made a decent piece. Hope you like it anon! Hopefully it’s up to your standards! Sorry it took me so long to write this. Anyway!

Stay healthy and hydrated!

Bye babes! ∠(ᐛ 」∠)

[themysticaldrumstick]

“If i didn't know any better, i'd say you were jealous.” for either E (seeing MC mess around with another person) or M (during the E & MC dating era)

Also love the IF concept can’t wait to read it

You grin almost stupidly, standing by the lockers as you feel a warm palm cup your cheek. E's smile is genuine, sweet and they lean in for a brief kiss before class.

Oh, it's almost saccharine. Your heart jolts.

A little breath escapes your lips as you two part. "See you after class?"

"Of course." They whisper, brushing a stray strand of your hair back affectionately. "I'll be at the biology lab. Have to talk to the lab assistant about something."

You hum, too happy to care. "No problemo. See you then." They chuckle in a low voice, nuzzling their nose against yours in an Eskimo kiss. A bright laugh leaves you and they leave, finally.

You lean your head back against the lockers, butterflies in your stomach. You feel so blissful, so.. in-love, as stupid and early as that sounds. But, an exaggerated cough behind you breaks you out of your trance.

You turn.

It's M, their luscious locks framing their sharp features, the sheen of sweat on their copper skin sparkling under the bright lights of the school hallways as they make a mock gesture of vomitting. They seem to be holding a basketball under their arm.

You roll your edges, shoving them in jest.

"What?" They scoff. "Don't blame me. That was the most cringiest shit, I've ever seen."

"Yeah, yeah. God forbid, I like someone." You mutter, opening your locker to take your books out. You're used to M's antics, by now. First, they were the ones pushing you to date E.. now, they are the ones pushing you away from E. You wonder why. Then again, M does a lot of weird things that you never get an explanation to.

They grin sharply, the expensive metal of their piercings glinting. "They are not worth liking. They're not worth anything. 'Oh, I'll bE iN tHe biOloGy lAb'-- shut the fuck up, what an attention seeker. Moron."

You raise an eyebrow. "Aren't you being a bit too harsh? I mean, you introduced them to me. You pushed me to date them."

"And?" They mutter, avoiding your eyes, as they spin the basketball on their fingers, instinctively. "Doesn't mean you HAD to."

You're almost amused.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous." You tease light-heartedly, a gut feeling, long buried, regurgitating to your mind.

They laugh. Loudly and freely, much to your surprise. Their eyes twinkling like stars under the hallway. "Oh, sweetheart. Jealously is a disease that I'm never a victim of." You want to scoff at that, it's the stupidest thing, you've ever heard, because you explicitly remember having seen M jealous of their ex, when the girl had started going out again. That too, with the main guitarist of the school band.

"Why do I even bother talking to you?" You sigh, shaking your head as you grab your things.

"Because, deep down? You know you love me." They shoot back, almost instantly.

What a menace. You see them ogling at another girl walking past, her long legs on display-- skirt a little too high. They lick their lips. You roll your eyes again, practically able to imagine their dad complaining. "Where there's smoke, there's fire, you know?"

They whistle under their breath and their eyes flick back onto yours, locking into it, a little too intently. Like the color of honey, irises swirling like sweet nectar.

"And I'm a moth to a flame."

[sweetbans29]

Protector - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: 3 times Caitlin is overprotective

Warnings: jealous(ish) Caitlin

Word Count: 2.8k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Here's another one for you!

one. fall.

You have no idea why you thought it would be a good idea to go rollerblading. It has been years since you put them on but you begged Caitlin all day saying it would be a fun little outing.

You were completely wrong. It wasn't even 5 minutes in when you fell and got a pretty nasty scrap on your knee.

It takes a few seconds before you feel like you can stand and when you do you wince then sit back down.

Caitlin is looking at our scrap with furrowed eyebrows as she examines what the best course of action would be.

"We should get you home to clean that up, I don't want it to get infected," Caitlin says as her eyes are still glued to your knee.

"No, we just started. I want to keep going," you combat and try to stand again.

Once you are on your feet, you realize you can barely move your leg. You try to hide the pain you are in from your girlfriend but have a hard time hiding anything when you begin to put any sort of pressure on your left leg.

"Okay that is it," Caitlin says as she turns around and hoists you up on her back. She leave both of your rollerblades where you fell and is now carrying you back to your apartment in her socks.

"Cait! I am fine!" You say frustrated that your cute date has been cut short.

"You are not fine." She mumbles as she marches back. "I am going to inspect it after I disinfect it and we will see if I need to take you to urgent care to get it stitched."

"Babe, chill - I am okay." You say, then realize it is a mistake.

Her head whips around as she comes to a complete stop. You can only see her profile but you know she is giving you her death stare.

You learned early on in your relationship how protective Caitlin can be. At first, you thought it was normal but then one of her teammates pointed out how whenever you are in any sort of compromising situation - both physical or mental, Caitlin is right there watching over you. It is always endearing, but could also be too much at times.

You kiss her shoulder and you feel her relax.

The two of you make your way into your apartment. She places you on the kitchen counter as she makes her way to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit.

While she is gone, you attempt to stand up, putting most of your weight on your hands as you slowly lower yourself to the ground. Once you are down on your right foot, you slowly shift your weight to your left and feel pain shoot to your knee. You hiss and begin to lose your balance, trying to grab onto the counter.

Before you know it you feel yourself going down. You mentally brace for your second impact on the ground today but it never comes.

Cait has made her way back to you and has caught you mid-fall, effortlessly lifting you back up and sitting you back down on the counter.

"Do not do that again," is all she says as she opens the first aid kit.

You listen and feel bad for trying to get down on your own. You know Caitlin is doing everything in her power to care for you and you are doing everything you can to do it yourself.

Caitlin takes her time as she disinfects the wound, her hands are the most gentle they have ever been. She is locked in on ensuring she does a thorough job and you do everything in your power to not flinch away from her touch.

You can begin to see steam come out to Caitlin's ears as she is working so intricately on your wound. You bring your hand to brush down the left side of her head.

"I'm sorry I forced you to go rollerblading." You say looking at her. "And I am sorry I fell and that you have to take care of me." This is the best you can do to say Caitlin was right about the whole rollerblading idea.

She looks up at you for the first time since last scolding you for moving.

"You don't need to apologize, babe. I know you didn't do this on purpose." She says as she kisses your right knee. You give her a half smile as she places a bandage on your knee. She stands and you pull her in between your legs and wrap your arms around her for a hug.

She wraps her arms around you and lets out a sigh. The second she does, you know it has been one she has been holding in for a while now.

You rub her back knowing the stress you have caused her this afternoon. Her body relaxes into yours and you can't imagine having anyone else take care of you the way Cait does.

two. handsy.

It’s the Hawkeyes first game in March Madness and you could not be more excited.

Typically you attend games with your friends or sit with Caitlin's family but in this game, Caitlin was able to score you a courtside seat which you gladly accepted.

You get to the game and get escorted to your seat. You chose a simple outfit that consisted of black jeans, some black pumps, and of course your girl’s jersey.

As you sit down you notice the seats around you are empty, you know they will fill up right before tipoff.

You watch the girls come out and begin their warm-ups. You see Caitlin looks around the court until her eyes land on you. Giving her a little wave, she smiles and gives a wave back. Typically you don't drag Cait's attention away from the game but being so close and seeing her look for you, you couldn't help it.

As they are announcing the teams, the people next to you show up. You don't pay them much attention as they begin to announce the Hawkeyes, cheering on Caitlin as she makes her way onto the floor.

The game begins and you are locked into watching Caitlin dominate the court.

You are pulled away from the game when you feel a tap on your thigh. Looking away from the game for a second, you turn to the girl sitting next to you.

She points down to the ground where her lipgloss has rolled by your foot. You pick it up and hand it to her with a smile then turn your attention back to the court.

The first time out is called and you are able to sit back in your chair and breathe for a minute. Watching Caitlin always has your elbows on your knees, holding your breath, with your eyes on her. So any time they call a time-out or the quarter ends you are able to sit back and release the tension your body holds.

"Hey, I'm sorry I interrupted you from the game," the girl next to you says.

You giver her a smile, "Oh you are good!"

"I'm Sarah," she extends her hand. You shake it and introduce yourself.

The game begins again and you assume your position. You cheer on the team as they put in work to stay ahead of the other team. You are on the edge of your seat and don't realize these are folding seats as you push it back slightly, losing your balance.

Just as you are about to fall you feel arms come around you as Sarah has effortlessly caught you and saved you from making a fool of yourself. You are in an awkward squat for .5 seconds as she scoots your chair back to support you. As you sit, your hand comes to her lower thigh as you mumble a thank you, still embarrassed.

"Hey you're good babe, I won't let you fall," she says with a beaming smile. You give her a small smile and nod, thanking her.

Your attention goes back to your girl who you notice has eyes on you. She is staring directly at you, eyes going between you and the girl sitting next to you. Sending you girl a nod, you lock back into the game.

It isn't long after that the half is announced and the girl next to you starts making conversation with you. You don't want to be rude and enter into the light conversation. She stops what she is saying then takes her finger and removes a hair that got caught on your lip. Her finger comes and brushes your cheek and you feel like this is going a little too far.

"Sarah, you seem like a really nice girl but I'm in a relationship." You say.

"Oh my gosh, I promise I am not hitting on you!" She says and introduces you to the girl next to her who's her wife.

A blush instantly makes its way to your face as you feel the fullness of the embarrassment that has overtaken your body. Sarah then puts her arm around you and gives you a side hug as you hide your face in your hands.

Little did you know that Caitlin had seen the whole interaction and had quite frankly had enough of whatever was happening on the sidelines.

Taking only a few giant strides, she is now in front of you.

"Cait!" You yell surprised she has abandoned her post before the fourth quarter.

She is looking right at Sarah, eyes burning into the girl next to you.

"I'm going to need you to remove your arm from my girl and keep your hands to yourself." She says as she removes her arm from you, setting Sarah's hand on her lap and patting it.

"Caitlin," you try getting her attention to let her know the newfound fact that Sarah is indeed not hitting on you.

Caitlin just goes on to tell Sarah that you are happily in a relationship and that she doesn't need the distraction of someone hitting on her girlfriend every 5 minutes.

You get fed up, standing and grabbing Caitlin's face.

"Sarah is married and you are the only one for me!" You yell at her so she can hear you over the crowd. She freezes and now it is her turn to feel the heat of embarrassment creep into her cheeks.

You place a little kiss on her nose and release her, turning her shoulders back to the court and pushing her towards Gabby who checks in with Cait. Caitlin brushes her off as she can't shake the smile on her face.

Your nose kisses are her favorite.

three. work.

Caitlin is currently sitting in the rolling chair right next to yours, tossing up a lacrosse ball as she waits for you to finish up some admin work.

Your staff decided to do its first ever 'bring your spouse into work day'. You thought it was silly considering your company is literally a team of rugby players but caved in when you told Caitlin about it and she was completely on board.

Caitlin and you weren't married yet but had been dating since high school. The two of you talked about marriage quite frequently but wanted to wait until after college to figure it all out. You both knew it was coming but just a matter of when.

"I am almost done here and then we will head out to the field," you say finishing up one of your reports. Caitlin nods, which is unseen to you but you know she is content. Between her practices, games, your work, and school - any time the two of you got together was gold.

You finish up and the two of you head out to the field. You work as a part of the sports medicine team for a local rugby team. It was perfect because it's what you are studying in school and will look good when on your resume. Your goal is to go into the WNBA with Caitlin's team wherever she is drafted.

During the practice, it is a lot of retaping and making sure all the players have what they need. Caitlin watches in awe as these giant guys come up to her girl needing her help with something. You aren't the tallest person to begin with but seeing these full-grown men come up to you makes Caitlin so proud.

Once practice is done - you and Cait go back to your office knowing the fun has just begun. Caitlin takes a seat back in the rolling chair as you grab a pile of towels and make sure your massage table is out and prepped.

Aside from taping, one of your main jobs was massaging out the guys at the end of practice and/or games if needed.

Caitlin knows what you do - you talk about frequently when your job is ever brought up in conversation. She knows what you do firsthand as you have spent countless hours rubbing out knots that she has built up from her own sport. But she was not ready for what she was about to witness.

The first player comes in and you and he joke around as he gets set on the table. By the sounds of it, he is in here after every practice.

He sets himself on his side and hikes up his shorts on his right leg as he twists to the all too familiar position. You place a towel on his upper thigh and glut. As you begin to work out his glut he starts groaning in pain.

You laugh as you continue to work him out. His hand comes up to grab your shoulder, trying to get any sort of pressure released as your elbow assaults his knot. Caitlin's eyes are on the player's hand that is clutching your shoulder now.

You ease up and nudge his hand off, making a joke that he is making you uncomfortable. Caitlin released the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

The thing is - Caitlin is beyond secure in your relationship. She has no doubts that you are hers and only hers but seeing this guy wither under your touch has a fire burning within her. At this moment, it provided no comfort to Caitlin knowing how good your massages are.

Caitlin sits there with her arms crossed as you finish working with the guy. The guy thanks you and heads out as you have a little break.

"I don't know if I like this," Caitlin says, arms still crossed as she is leaning back in her chair.

You shoot her a smile and make your way to her.

"You know best what these hands can do," you say with a shrug and a little smirk. Her eyes widen, not expecting that response from you as the next guy walks in. You lean over and kiss her on the head as you greet the next player.

The next player is similar except you are working out the back of his calves and thighs. He keeps moaning and groaning which you laugh at. Caitlin knows the sounds the guy is making are due to the pain he is in but she can’t help but feel jealousy rise within her.

Again, she knows this is your job and she knows that she is the one you come home to every night but it is wild to her that these guys are squirming at your touch.

This player is feeling so much pain that he reaches back and grabs the back of your thigh just to hold onto something and Caitlin can see him squeeze it.

She leans over and grabs the guy's hand, removing it from your leg.

“Okay that’s enough,” Caitlin says putting her hand on your thigh where she just removed his.

The player apologizes and you give Cait a questioning look.

She doesn’t say anything to you but lets you finish the massage. The player grips the table until you are finished and thanks you upon leaving.

“What was that about babe?” You ask putting everything away.

“There is no reason for them to touch you - especially the way the second guy was. It’s inappropriate,” she says.

“It’s a reflex, it means nothing. And trust me, I always have them remove it.” You say walking up to her.

You stand in between her legs as her hands come up to find the back of your thighs. She looks up at you for a second then her head falls to your stomach. Your hands come to her head and soothe her hair over.

“Your hands are the only ones I want on my body babe.” You say in a sweet tone.

“They better be,” she says giving your legs a squeeze as she pulls you in and hugs your middle.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this lil cute one. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[ofdarklands]

level 90 at last!

so! about black mage

i've been thinking how to describe playing black mage, and i think the simile i used this morning in chat works well enough:

black mage feels like trying to run with a pot full of boiling water in my hands. with other jobs i feel light and agile, but black mage plays like how seeing emet selch as solus run would feel. look at that guy go. i didn't know spines could do that! you can hear his knees crunch, also

mechanically, it's really not nearly as bad as i feared it to be, even though i don't think i'd managed to figure out a decent rotation myself on the first or even third try so, thank you internet people for the guides!

anyway, the boiling pot wheezing trot sensation is not unique to it, though it is the most noticeable of all the casting classes i've played. i'd say rdm>summoner>whm>>blm in increasing awkwardness

so, while i acknowledge that blm is an optimizer's paradise to get the Biggest Booms, probably, playing it feels like it's almost fighting against the game instead of flowing with it and due to that it's just not very enjoyable, for me. it's got the same inflexible rotation that makes dragoon my least played class despite it being very canon for mitr'a

and from a physical perspective my fingers are not very precise on the keyboard, so i tend to fuck up the routine by accident quite often and then i have to correct it or start over and eeeehhhhhh. and my can't-remember-to-click-despair situation. dunno what the problem is with that one, to be quite honest. brain said no i guess :( that one's on me

woops this got longer than i thought so have a readmore

the good:

aforementioned big damages, when i manage to keep the rotation on track. sadly not as much of a plus for me, personally, but it's relevant still

against one enemy, getting immersed in the rotation can be pretty fun, until the 5 aoes come, the boss leaves the arena, and i sigh deeply while creakily running around, not casting

lasso spell goes brrr. it's got a very funny sound effect, in my heart

the 'return to leylines' spell is also great. i've used it mostly to instantly dodge when there's more than 2 sequential aoes. you can play around with these two spells

shoutout to the simplified job gauge for letting you actually understand anything about it. sure it's 3.5 things to keep track of, but for 2 of them you get informed about their readiness with convenient sounds and flashing borders so whatever

big staff to hit people with

cone hat funny

big lb meteorites. very good very cackling

the bad:

moving feels heavy, even when using the instant cast abilities. i keep lagging behind the group even in normal content, and sometimes clicking the right person to yeet to can be a bit hard in alliances or wall to walls. this class needs to do some cardio

clicking fire IV 3 times, then 1 fire I then fire IV 3 more times is. very boring. sorry. rotation 40 years long and rigid like the brutalism. the funnest parts are the thunder procs and the ice phase before going back to fire and the occasional instant cast. oh you sneezed and misclicked and dropped your fire badge thingies on the floor? sorry idiot you get to start over from the top, but sadder this time

this one i only noticed here at the end, but i feel it's very important, maybe more than the rotation: the best and biggest animations it has are the ones for the ice spells, which you use the least. xenoglossy, foul and flare are also good. amplifier, manafont and triple cast feel nice and dramatic to use. paradox i just got but it's also nice with the color mix. the rest i don't even remember, had to go cast them on a dummy. it's fireballs and fire columns it's all fireballs! the blm animations have a lot of boom but they need more heft, if that makes sense? more flying shit going from you to the target, shit shrapneling from the target, rings of fire, fiery eldritch runes, anything. if rdm can shoot 50 explosive roses at a guy for some reason and drk can summon shields of runes, blm can do something fancy also. casting a finisher skill called 'despair' should look like i'm sucking their souls out through a straw

also more casting positions. summoner has a lot and they're pretty different! they got floating symbols and shit. blm has 'slightly crouched' and 'staff held high' in variation 1 and 2, and that's about it from what i can tell besides the selfbuff ones. add some evil runes at least. the paradox wide armed one (i think you float a little?) is a good addition though

anyway, final verdict: it's a good class, but it's very rigid and inflexible to get Big Damages, which is not an exciting exchange, for me. i prefer to be nimble and do less damage but have a more varied and forgiving rng based rotation. also more utility skills! i miss peloton or having a group shield or heal, or even rdm's rez; makes me feel actually useful instead of being just a giant cone hat that produces flamethrower on command. i don't think i'll play it too often, i'm afraid, even though it's a perfectly alright class, and i'm sure i'll get better with time

HOWEVER. if dawntrail allows blm to throw meteorites outside of lbs i might reconsider. they can be small! even magical molotov cocktails if we must. but i want physical flamming objects to hit my enemies and i want to see the animations do that with some flair. just ole fire and spite booms and a couple icicles is not enough. i want to flatten them

[wrencatte]

mini-fic 4 (ish)!!

pre-Survivor Bravo and Gabs learn about Cal's psychometry - and I give Cal a sniper rifle. Bravo POV. 1.3k

Cal smiles and says, “Blasters aren’t the Jedi way,” in that tone that he thinks makes him sound all-wise and mysterious, but Bravo’s heard that same tone when he tried to cover up his latest cooking disaster, so he doesn’t. buy it for a second. Gabs doesn’t even bother covering her laugh. Cal pointedly shifts to turn his back on her, focusing his attention on Bravo instead.

The pilot grins and taps the table between them, bringing the Jedi’s focus back to the dismantled DH-447 rifle on it. “C’mon, man. What happens if you lose your fancy lasersword?”

“I won’t lose it.”

“But if you did?”

“I have the Force.”

“Cal.”

“Bravo.” But Cal’s laughing, which makes him feel better about needling him like this. “I seriously doubt I’ll ever end up in a situation where I’ll have to snipe someone. And, if for some reason, I end up without my ‘saber, I’ll probably pick up a normal blaster or something. I don’t need to know how to use that.”

“You never know,” Braco insists. Cal sighs. “Listen. We’ve landed on a perfectly good planet to give it a shot. There’s no one around to see you if you’re that worried about embarrassing yourself.”

Cal glares at him. Bravo just smirks and shrugs unrepentantly, recognizing that look. “You are the worst,” the Jedi hisses, gesturing for the pilot to reassemble the rifle, a resigned expression on his face. Bravo does so gleefully, expertly slotting everything into place.

“You’re too easy, Kestis,” Gabs calls out from her spot in the shade of the Mantis’s nose where she’s scrolling through a holopad. “He didn’t even bring out the tooka-eyes.” BD-1 whistles his agreement. She reaches up a pats the droid’s head.

Cal huffs. “You’re supposed to be on my side,” he tells his droid. BD beeps a happy since when that makes him laugh and shake his head. Gabs cackles loudly.

Bravo finishes reassembling the rifle, does his final checks, and hands it over. Cal hesitates then takes it up, fingers fluttering over the weapon carefully.

“You’ve shot with this?”

“Dozens of times.”

“You hit your target?”

He throws up a vulgar gesture towards the Jedi first, then to the laughing Gabs. “Yes, you asshole. I hit my target every time. Why?”

Cal smirks. “Just checking.” There’s an odd look on his face, one Bravo’s seen before, but has never been able to place. His touch stutters on the cheek piece, brows furrowing. “Got something to paint a target with?”

Bravo nods and grabs the pointer before they head towards the edge of the canyon cliff. Gabs isn’t far behind, bringing her holopad to record it along with BD-1’s perspective. Below them is a meandering river, framed on either side with low, spindly plants and tall, wide trees with a sparse number of leaves, making them the perfect targets.

They watch the Jedi clear a spot of rocks and set up the tripod for the rifle, moving so quickly and efficiently that Bravo is immediately suspicious that he’s been duped. He scowls and crosses his arms, shooting a glance at Gabs, who looks confused and just shrugs.

“Cal,” she drags out, tapping the back of his boot. “Were you lying? You look like you know what you’re doing.”

“Wasn’t lying,” Cal answers distractedly as he lays on his stomach and peers through the scope. “I haven’t survived this long without knowing how to use a blaster, but I swear I’ve never shot a rifle before. Paint me a target, Bravo.”

Bravo lays next to him and paints a tree. “Eight-forty,” he murmurs from the read out. The projection is bright this close up, just a couple hundred meters shy of the lower range of this particular rifle model. The further the target, the fainter the paint, but it’s not really meant for long distances, unlike the rifle. The read out tells him wind resistance and whatnot, but he keeps his mouth shut, curious to see what the Jedi is going to do.

Cal sits there for longer than is smart, but they’re not on a mission or in active combat, so Bravo doesn’t say anything. His breathing is even, almost like meditation. Another second ticks by, then another, and then Cal is squeezing the trigger with the sort of patient skill that takes people years to learn. Must be a Jedi thing.

The shot goes high, hitting just the edge of the paint. Cal swears in Huttese, insulting himself, which just makes Bravo’s jaw drop. If what Cal said is true and he’s never picked up a rifle before with the intention to shoot, then he has no reason to be mad at that shot.

“What the hell?” Gabs gasps. “You were lying!”

Cal laughs, highly entertained. “Nope, still not lying. Paint me another.”

Bravo does. “Ten-thirty.”

He doesn’t pause as long to squeeze the trigger this time, three heartbeats, and the bolt hits the target a couple centimeters from bullseye. “One more.”

“Fourteen-twelve. Far as we can go.” The canyon isn’t wide enough. It’s impossible that Cal’s getting better the further they go out. Bravo refuses to believe he’s never done this before.

Sure enough, even with the paint faded at this distance, the Jedi hits bullseye. Cal moves off the scope, expression purely ‘loth-cat who got the cream.’ He clicks the safety on and rolls onto his back, thrusting his hands up triumphantly with a giddy laugh.

Gabs kicks the bottom of his boots obnoxiously. “Hey! No! You were definitely lying. What the hell was that?”

Bravo’s still staring at the last tree. “I’m with Gabs on this one.”

Cal props himself up on his elbows, surveying them with a suddenly somber expression. Gabs stops kicking his heels, getting serious. BD-1 boop-whirls comfortingly…encouragingly? Cal smiles fondly at him. Bravo sits up cross-legged, waiting patiently. Cal keeps secrets. They all do. The two of them have only been working with the Jedi for a couple months now, and Bravo knows there’s a lot more going on in that head of his than either of them are ever going to know, but this seems more serious than when he told them about Bracca, or what’d happened during the Purge.

“I have this ability,” he starts slowly, eyes flicking between them as if he’s still making the decision to trust them, Bravo realizes. “It’s called psychometry. People, events, experiences, they leave an imprint in the Force, an echo of the past. I touch something and I can feel it happen.”

Bravo glances at the rifle. “You felt me shooting that?”

Cal nods. “I was in your place. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten an echo from a rifle, but this is the first time I’ve tried to use one, or a dozen, to shoot it. You’re a good shot.”

“So are you,” Bravo says dazedly.

Gabs tilts her head. “Is that how you knew the vault codes back on that mission on Nar Shaddaa? An echo?”

“Yep,” Cal says, popping the ‘p.’

“Huh, that’s really useful.”

Cal laughs, throwing his head back at the force of it. “Yep,” he repeats, eyes crinkling at the corners. Gabs smiles back. The Jedi doesn’t laugh nearly as much as she thinks he should. He has a nice smile.

“What other skills does that work on?” Bravo can’t help but ask.

“Most of them. I’m limited by the length of the echo and, you know, my human-ness, but if I get enough echoes of the same thing, or they’re long enough, it gets pretty stuck in my head.”

“That’s really useful.”

Gabs kicks Cal’s boot again to bring his focus on her. “Thanks for trusting us with that,” she says sincerely. “I know you Jedi are a mistrustful bunch (for a good reason, I know) and we’ve only known each other for a little while, so thanks. It means a lot.”

The crinkle around Cal’s eyes stays there as he smiles bright enough Bravo makes a joke about needing sunshades. “You’re trustworthy people. BD likes you.” The droid whistles his agreement. “See? Now, c’mon, let’s get back to what we were doing before Bravo got all ‘Cal needs to learn how to shoot.’ Saw wants us on Norsid in three weeks.”

[wakeupandchooseviolets]

Sweets (1/?)

The snugness was barely tolerable. She had overestimated herself. She looked surreptitiously over her shoulder and ducked around a corner. The only thing following her were her bad decisions, but she felt chased all the same.

Okay. Calm down. Breathe (but not too deep). Evaluate the situation. What are your options? Can you loosen anything?

She looked down at herself. Past her swollen breasts, past a fluffy roll of upper belly, she examined her waistline. Nope. The button was the only thing keeping the zipper together, and vice versa. For the millionth time, she lamented her morning. What a bright idea, interviewing for a job with a snack company. She was very well aware of how sweets affected her.

Could she find somewhere discrete to wait out her... little metabolic mishap? She looked around for a discrete nook to accommodate her fresh bulk.

The little atrium she had found had a series of plush benches around the walls. She sighed and headed for the one in the corner. She sucked in as best she could and sat down. Some horny little corner of her mind made note of how it felt as her tight belly shifted against her puffy thighs.

Sitting like this, only barely upright lest bending too far compromise her jeans, she couldn't ignore how her waistband was trying to cut her in half. She thought back to how she had done this to herself. The lovely HR manager had very explicitly pointed out the basket of the company's sugary offerings there in the middle of interview table. The woman had been insistent that she try at least one of each, gushing like any good salesperson about their rich flavors and subtle textures, occasionally even peeling one out of its wrapper and handing it to her.

How could she have done anything but eat what was offered to her? And by a beautiful woman, no less. She knew how her body reacted to food like this, but she had been desperate to make a good impression, to look good and eager and employable. A good girl. She ignored that last thought, and the accompanying shiver through her frazzled tummy.

She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth (but not too deeply). All she had to do was calm down, and give her body a chance to do the same. Then she could find a back door to sneak out of, go home and hope that somehow that she hadn't blown the interview.

She opened her eyes again and caught sight of herself in a mirror across the room. Holy crap, she was huge. She had been her normal, narrow self, and her outfit had fit very very normally, when she had arrived. But now? Now it looked positively painted onto her. Her breasts were trying to spill out of her tastefully exposed bra and over the lapel of her blouse. She was more balloon than woman at this point. She ignored another tingle.

As she watched herself in the mirror, she noticed something change. Slowly but surely, the last wrinkle in her blouse smoothed out. Uh oh. That meant... she was still filling out. Panic. She tingled again.

No. No. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). She closed her eyes again, and could feel her plump body quietly grow. Crap.

Panic. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). Calm.

Maybe if she didn't look, it would go away. That had never worked before, sure, but there's a first time for everything, right?

As she rationalized to herself, she noticed the sound of heels clacking towards her hiding spot. Panic!

Maybe their owner would pass and not notice her?

No such luck.

The woman who had interviewed her rounded the corner.

"There you are!"

She struggled to stand. So tight.

"You left your purse upstairs. I get it, though. Interviews can be pretty stressful, huh?"

Like nothing had changed. Did this woman not notice that she was currently three times the size she was when she had shown up? Could this woman not hear every seam in her clothes creaking in harmony? Could the woman not see how wide and deep and round she was becoming?

"It's such a beautiful handbag, I almost wanted to keep it for myself!" The woman laughed. "Oh well."

She took the bag from the woman. "O-oh! Thank you!" Leapt out of her.

"Listen," said the woman, "technically I have to review a few other candidates, but I think you're a shoo-in for the position." The woman moved closer. "No one else has shown so much... enthusiasm." Closer still. She basked in the smell of the woman's musky perfume.

"Oh... that's great!" she managed to squeak out.

"In fact," the woman continued, "if you'd like to come back upstairs, we can have you fill out the onboarding paperwork now, so you don't have to come back just to fill out some forms if... when we give you the job." So close now.

"Um! Okay!" What.

The woman placed a gentle hand on the side of her massive, tight, growing belly. "Listen, between you and me, that passion you showed today will take you far with us. Do you feel like the offer is fair? We can negotiate further if you need." The woman's eyes were so sincere.

What was going on here? She could barely think.

The woman placed her other hand on top of her belly, well hidden by her burgeoning breasts. "I do hope you'll say yes."

"Um..."

There was a pop. Her button pinged away across the room from her overburdened jeans. It made a little thwack sound as it hit the far wall. Her zipper flew down, zizzing audibly. Her belly erupted through the breach. Her blouse retreated upwards. The tingling became a roar. All the while, the woman, as though no tectonic shifts were happening right there and then, continued to implore with borderline puppydog eyes.

The world held its breath with her. How had this woman not reacted to any of that?! What? Was the woman still waiting for an answer?

"...okay?" She tried. She wasn't sure if her brain was still working. "Sure?" Best to stick to small sentences.

"Yay!" cheered the woman, "I really think you'll love it here!" The woman launched in for a quick hug around her exposed belly. The woman's arms didn't go even halfway around her. And still the woman didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong.

"Well! If you'll follow me back to the elevators, we can at least get the formalities out of the way."

The woman took her by the hand and pulled, still gentle. She followed, mutely. Even the horniest, shamiest corners of her mind were silent, waiting with bated breath.

As they reached the elevators, the woman pushed the up button and stood to the side. "Please," said the woman, "after you!"

On autopilot now, she stepped into the elevator and... wedged into the door. Stuck. What. Panic? Calm? The elevator dinged again as if to say "I'm waiting!"

The cold of the elevator doors brought her back to reality. She put a hand on either side of herself and tried to pull herself in. As though this were somehow normal, the woman chirped "Oh, here, let me help!"

She felt a gentle pair of hands press into her oceanic bottom. Her horny brain thrilled again. She clamped down on those thoughts. No time to be a pervert.

Between the two of them, they muscled her into the elevator. She turned to face the doors in time to watch the woman press into her in order to let the doors close. Normally equipped for eight full-sized human adults, due to her immensity, it very barely fit two.

"We need floor thirty," said the woman into her barely contained cleavage. She tried to reach for the panel of buttons, but by now there was simply too much of her in the way.

"I've got it," said the woman, reaching behind her without looking.

They rode the thirty floors quietly. She could feel herself still widening, pressing towards the walls of the elevator car. Her embarrassment had burnt out, leaving only a kind of stunned peace in her mind. She tried to will her body away from the woman, but where else could it really go?

By the time they reached their destination, the woman was firmly pressed against the doors, still showing no indication of the extra-ordinariness of the situation.

As the doors opened, the woman stepped back, grabbed her hands, and pulled as she tried to wiggle through the door. Eventually she floomped through, and they set off toward the HR suite.

Full-on waddling now, she felt an inner tension release. She had stopped growing. Relief. If nothing else, at least things had stopped getting worse. Sure, she was almost round enough to roll. Tingle. Sure, her clothing had been reduced to barely covering her... rude areas. Tingle. Sure, a beautiful woman was acting as though this was all perfectly normal. Tingle tingle tingle. But hey, at least it finally wasn't getting worse.

The woman pushed open the double doors to the HR suite and welcomed her in with another glittering smile. They seemed to be the only ones there. The woman led her, patiently, to the front desk area. The woman ducked behind the desk, looking for something.

"Hmm, it looks like I'll need to go print off more some more copies of the forms. Shouldn't take more than a minute or two." Finally she'd have a moment to collect herself.

Then the woman produced a basket, laden with various goodies, from underneath the desk. "Here! Help yourself, sorry to make you wait." Uh.

"Oh, here, allow me," said the woman, picking out a chocolate confection, peeling it, and pressing it into her mouth. "I'll be right back!"

She chewed and swallowed the treat.

Uh oh.

[softpine]

can you explain what happened like i'm 5? i may be stupid

noooo you're not, i feel like you're just the only person brave enough to ask fjksjds there's a LOT going on here so i don't mind explaining at all!!

first i'll explain what happened from griffin's point of view on february 3rd, 1982…. he's been saving money up without his parents knowing, because he plans to run away in the next few months. on this day, his mom finds the money and realizes that griffin wants to leave. she becomes inconsolable and tells richard about the money. he thinks griffin stole the money from him (which is ridiculous because we know griffin JUST bailed him out of jail with money richard didn't have; he could've just left him there), and a large argument ensues. his dad hits him, his mom is throwing things around and falling to the floor crying, it's just a huge mess. lucy throws a plate and it shatters on griffin's face. this is the last straw for him. he just can't take it anymore. he grabs the gun they keep in the pantry, knowing his parents always keep it loaded for home security (more on that later). he points it at his dad and warns him to step back, but richard outright laughs at him and keeps approaching him. griffin THINKS he racks the gun, but, being a kid in an insanely stressful situation, he didn't apply enough force to pull it all the way back, meaning there's no round in the chamber, so when he pulls the trigger (and he does actually pull the trigger) the gun does not go off. at that point, richard yanks it out of his hands and threatens to kill him if he ever tries something like that again, but griffin wouldn't have tried again – he was horrified at his own behavior. this is the major turning point in griffin's life and it's one of the biggest factors in causing his death.

(side note, in the universe where we saw griffin as an inmate, that was the incident that first landed him in jail -- in that universe, he pulled the slide just a little more forcefully, and he killed his dad. but he was only 12, and the abuse he suffered was an additional consideration, so he spent most of his time in a psychiatric hospital until he aged out. he committed more crimes later on though.)

(side SIDE note, this is why in the 90s verse griffin was warned to never touch his dad's shotgun again, which he did not listen to, meaning this event still took place for him.)

okay, so now here's what happened from finn's point of view (as in ghost finn, our finn, asa's finn, you know the one): this is one of the worst moments of finn's entire life, and just thinking about it makes him feel furious. anytime he needs to draw strength from his emotions, he revisits this memory to make himself angry. he successfully used this incident to save asa's life many years ago, and it's implied that he did the same thing to get himself out of the nowhere many years before that. so, naturally, when finn got separated from asa, his first idea was to revisit this memory to fuel his anger. only, it didn't work this time. this time, he doesn't feel angry, he feels sad and ashamed because this isn't who he is anymore. he finds himself trapped in an endless loop, forced to watch it happen over and over again. he starts thinking that this is Hell with a capital H, an eternal punishment for what he's done. when he sees asa, he's horrified because he thinks it means asa has died and gone to Hell -- something finn can't even fathom.

okay, now from ASA'S perspective…. we find out that he knew about this incident all along. he heard and saw everything that finn begged him not to. all this time, he's been reassuring finn that he's a good person, deserving of love, that he was just a kid and he's allowed to find happiness, etc. all along, he knew that finn had pulled the trigger intending to kill his father. yet he still believed every word he said. he still believes finn is inherently good. asa would have taken this to the grave if he could; he thought it would only cause finn more pain to know that asa knows.

asa truly believes that this incident is just a memory, so he tries to prove it by attempting to interact with the memory, but he's caught off guard when richard, lucy, and griffin actually see him. they're all so shocked by this supposed home intruder that they fall silent, something finn knows is not normal for this memory, so he gets up to find asa. richard has the gun now because he'd ripped it out of griffin's hands. asa thinks the gun is empty because he knows griffin pulled the trigger and it didn't go off, but finn obviously knows the truth: it would only take a few seconds to fire. he also knows that this is the exact reason his dad bought the gun in the first place, for home defense in the event of a break in (to be fair, this is not that implausible considering the company their family kept at this point) so richard is 100% prepared to use deadly force against asa, who he thinks just broke into his house.

bonus: finn's reaction makes me really sad. we've SEEN the lengths he'll go to to protect asa in the past... but when it comes to his father, he mostly freezes up. he's even physically hiding behind asa :(

[lord-squiggletits]

I know there are as many religious good guys as there are religious bad guys in IDW, but I think I pinned down the reason why it feels like the most prominent religious figures are all bad guys and it's pretty much due to the worldbuilding.

Maybe my memory of the comics is just really bad, but the religious worldbuilding in IDW is....kind of trash honestly. I'm not sure there's a single religion or religious custom that doesn't exist solely to further the plot along. Like, it's one thing for the Camiens to worship the Primes and that causes a lot of stuff in exRID/OP, but what does that worship actually look like? What are their holidays, customs, religious texts? What about "spectralism" which basically the only thing we know about is the Festival of the Lost Light and some hippie color coding and aura shit? Like sure, there are characters who are religious and their beliefs come into play sometimes, but it honestly feels (especially in MTMTE) more like their religiousness only exists when it's relevant to the plot and it's just kinda. Disappointing eh. Lacking in worldbuilding. Plus the more religious a character is the more it's written as their entire personality and the driving force making them evil so it just kinda made me cringe to read honestly.

[velvetwyrme]

Hey! I just wanted to let you know that somebody has posted your comic sans comic on reddit in the Undertale subreddit as well as the general comic subreddit. They’ve credited you in the comments and everything, but I just wanted to give you a heads up in case they didn’t ask you first/if you’re not cool with it.

... Huh. Thank you for letting me know- I don't use Reddit, so I had no idea :')!!

They didn't ask, and I'm not a fan of reposting, but I do appreciate the credit (and the fact that they have been correcting people on That One Panel)

Honestly, I'm not sure how to feel about this!! On one hand I'm flattered that it was... "cool" enough to get shared to another site, but on the other hand I'm a little miffed that it was reposted in the first place?

I... is there even anything I can do here?? What is Reddit etiquette? I know reposting is pretty common there, and I'm not really inclined to report them or ask them to take it down if that's part of the post economy/ecosystem, you know?

Thank you again for letting me know, but I uh. have no idea what to do about this!

[lisbonsteresa]

climbing the walls over this

[dracolizardlars]

Also I've never posted anything about this so far but I just... i just feel the need to say by this point... I hate what's happening in Palestine so much, so so so much and the longer it's going on the more I just can't comprehend it and how it's just being allowed to keep happening. I normally don't really engage myself with international affairs (well or even my own country's politics) because my mental health is bad enough as it is, and I never usually post about any of it either, but... Yeah... This is a new scale of awful. This is the most bothered by something happening in the world that I've ever been. It feels like a bad timeline. It feels like a horror movie. My own country is supporting it btw.