#i think the only thing i'm kind of just... mellow about

[crehador]

brother crab's spring 2024 first impressions: jii-san baa-san wakagaeru

awhhh that was adorable lmao first off the premise:

i think that really works for me is even after becoming young again these old dorks in love still act like extremely grandparenty, and i'm also a fan of how the change happens and they just dive right into the "these two old people suddenly have young bodies" shenanigans without a period of like "everyone being shocked that they're young again"

the best part for me is definitely the casting, mikishin is just perrrfect for this grandpa role like i literally could not imagine any other voice working this well. and i did pick up the series for him so that's a delight to see lol

not an instant fave but pretty darn cute!

[mncxbe]

Breakfast at the Heartbreak Hotel♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: morning seggs♡/ light angst?

𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: you're friends with benefits with Dazai but he wants a little bit more♡

Dazai woke up between cold, silky sheets- an angel's feathery kiss on his skin. With a groan, he turned to the side and there you were: bathrobe loosely wrapped around your frame, leaning against the windowsill with a cigarette between your slender fingers. You always woke up just a bit before sunrise to have a smoke.

The gentle breeze that entered the hotel room through the open window grazed against your skin, causing you to shiver lightly. The brunette only smile and lazily slid out of bed.

"Well good morning bella" he cooed as his arms wrapped around your waist, earning a heartfelt giggle from you.

"Good morning to you too Osamu. How did you sleep?"

"Perfectly fine next to a beautiful lady like you." he replied, gently tugging at the velvety material of your robe. "And you?"

"Me too"

Dazai pursed his lips and placed a string of little kisses along your neck, right over the faint marks he was kind enough to leave the previous night.

"You're always so cold bella. Come on, loosen up, tell me about your day or something"

"Well... I stepped on some broken glass yesterday" you sighed, taking the lipstick-stained filter to your lips to take a puff "Really got me thinking."

"About what?" he asked nonchalantly, fingertips sliding under your robe, brushing against your bare skin.

You were silent for a while, eyes following the hazy movements of passing cars. The city was starting to wake from its slumber as warm rays of light flickered across the nightsky, painting it in hues of steel blue and pink. Eventually you turned your head to meet his soft gaze.

"About how us, people, like to take broken things and tear them further apart. Or sometimes we don't even notice it. It just happens. You know what I mean?"

A mellow chuckle rolled off Dazai's lips. Little did you know how truthful your words were for him; how deeply they struck, like a punch to the gut. He found it ironic that you of all people would say that, when you were doing the exact same thing to his heart.

"Oh I think I know what you mean"

A smile rose to your lips as you flicked your cigarette over the windowsill "I thought you would"

When you turned to face him, Dazai's heart sunk. You looked so beautiful, radiant against the pink skies of dawn. The next moment he leaned in, lips gently brushing against yours.

You eagerly returned the kiss and Dazai could taste the bitterness of tobacco on your tongue.

"Oh bella" he hummed, fingers kneading the soft skin of your hips. "You know I adore you right?"

His words caused a shiver to travel down your spine and you nodded, lips still pressed against his.

With a swift movement the brunette spun you around and gently pushed you onto the mattress, climbing on top of you. His slender fingers quickly undid the loose knot of your robe, sliding it off your shoulders before finding their way between your thighs.

"My, my bella. So eager at this early hour" he teased, causing a huff to roll off your lips. Your hand moved between your bodies, palming his painfully hard erection.

"I'm the eager one you say?" you responded, mimicking his playful tone.

The brunette only smiled, slipping two fingers inside your dripping cunt; slowly curling them up just the way he knew you liked.

"I guess we just have to admit that we're desperate for each other"

His fingers worked you open so well, eliciting muffled moans with each thrust. Your mewls and pleas for more were like music to Dazai's ears, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"There you go pretty girl." he cooed before his fingers left your sopping hole, settling on your hip. He stroked himself a few times before sliding inside; bottoming out with a deep thrust that caused a moan to roll past your lips.

"Fuck Osamu. You're-" you whined, nails digging at the bandaged skin of his back but he didn't care. All he could think about was the way your walls clamped around him and your eyes rolled back into your skull, mindless babbles falling past your glossy lips. His hips rolled against yours in a steady rhythm, his lips finding your own as he kissed you deeply. And you returned the kiss.

It was well known that Dazai never got what he wanted. Even now, when he had you chanting his name like a prayer with each thrust, he knew that you didn't fully return his feelings; that sweet love that blossomed like a rose in his soul. So for now, until he wins your heart, that kiss will have to do.

[dumplingsfordays]

tutoring sessions

Dan Heng x fem!reader

genre - smut

summary - your tutor (and friend) gets a little hot under the collar after you tease him, and things escalate a little (by a little I mean a lot).

cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), friends to (implied) partners, oral (dan heng receiving), praise, virgin!reader, virgin!dan heng, all characters 18+, kinda subby dan heng (he's also very vocal hehe), voyeurism kinda, reader is referred to as 'good/pretty girl' but that's really it for gendered language, implied that dan heng's still v thirsty for reader once the fic ends 👀

note - this is my first smut fic so I'm sorry if this is badly written 😭😭 dan heng might be a little ooc but I'll just roll w it... I was working on a fluff version of this but I accidentally posted the draft and I couldn't un-post it so I'm crying rn it was so long too-

and as always, thank you for reading :)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"And today's topic..." the raven-haired man flips to a page in the calculus textbook that he's holding, "is mathematical induction."

"That sounds super hard!" you sigh playfully. "Can we please do something else?"

"Sum and product identities?"

"No!"

"How about-" he flips further, "-sigma notation?"

"Also sounds super hard."

"But it isn't."

"You say that everytime!"

"We do have to start somewhere, though," he remarks with a small smile.

For a split second, you remember where this whole thing actually started. Ah yes, your room, six months ago... when your parents hired him and you came downstairs to find a complete stranger your age sitting at the dinner table. You remember being confused about what classes you shared with him - he did seem familiar in a way, so you just assumed that you had some shared classes. Back then, he was very quiet, very low-profile, and look at him now! Talkative, compassionate, cheeky (only sometimes), kind... if you really excelled in English class, then you might've called him a bloomed flower or something else of the sort. He looks so different now, though - you don't know if it's the chill of the night air that's trickling through the open window by your desk, or the soft, mellow glow of the fairy lights strung up around your room, or if it's just your stupidly big crush on him... it's probably the latter, now that you think about it.

"Well, I don't want to start anything." You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, relishing in the way that you can practically feel his mock-disappointed gaze on you.

"I guess we'll end the sessions here then," he sighs. You weren't sure if he was kidding or not - something about his tone hinted that he wasn't, so, not really thinking it through, you spring back forward to the table and cup your face in your hands with your elbows on your desk. You look up at him in desperation.

"There's no need to do that," you pout, "I just don't feel like doing anything, you know?"

"Come on, let's just finish at least one lesson today," Dan Heng urges, leaning in a little as he does. He smiles encouragingly and pats your back, but you're still not planning on giving in to the agony of work.

"Why do we have to do that, though?" you whine, now folding your arms on your desk and laying your head down on them. It's now his turn to lean back in his chair.

"Okay, so what are you lacking in right now?" he asks, running a hand through his hair to get some wild strands out of his eyes. "Why don't you want to do anything today?" You hate yourself for the fact that you felt your face redden at his action.

"Lack motivation, probably," you bury your face in your arms now, trying to hide the prominent blush on your cheeks.

You hear him hum - a low, pleasant sound. "Motivation..."

As you hear seconds tick by on the clock across the room, your heartbeat calms down and just as you're sure that the redness covering your face and the tips of your ears has faded-

"Just be a good girl and if we get through at least one topic tonight, you'll get a reward. Is that good enough motivation for you?"

You tremble at his voice. It's persuasive and smooth and deep and makes something deep inside of your stomach flutter - was he messing with you? Did he know about you having a crush on him and was teasing you?

You tilt your head to look at him and instantly regret it. He's leaning in so much that you can feel small breaths of air escaping him as he breathes, his eyes trained on yours.

Then he leans back again and smiles, still keeping eye contact, while you, wide-eyed, bewildered, gawk at him.

"Just kidding." The audacity to say that! After you thought that he was flirting and actually took it seriously! Oh, you just had to get revenge.

"No, no, I'll do it," you raise your brows in defiance, a cheeky smile dancing on your lips. "I'll be a good girl."

This does him in. Now he's the blubbering fool, mouth opening and closing like a fish's, trying to process what you said. The fact that you could make Dan Heng, the least expressive person you've ever met, turn into a tomato from just a simple sentence was extremely satisfying.

"You don't have to," he stammers. In a few quick movements he's back at the table, arms folded in his lap. You notice that they're not relaxed, no, his hands are balled up into white-knuckled fists - should you really keep on teasing?

Immediately, you decide that yes, you should.

"But I want to."

For a split second you think that you heard something, maybe a faint meow from a stray cat or a little creak of the walls, but then you realize that the sound came from a much closer origin. Dan Heng, at this point, is tense all over - you can see his jaw clench and his fists growing tighter, nails probably leaving small white crescents in his skin. He's doubled over, too, like he has a stomachache. At this, you immediately feel regret, and all the seductiveness and sass from your voice vanishes in an instant, replaced with concern.

"You okay?"

"Yes," he says, still avoiding eye contact, "Yes, I'm good- can I just go to the bathroom for a sec?"

"Are you..?" You trail off, scared to finish your sentence at the possible implications. He swallows thickly and stands up, trying his best to cover his problem with his shirt, and just as he's about to exit your room-

"You can stay, if you want to..."

He slowly turns his head around, totally stunned at your words.

"I mean," you babble nervously, "my parents are still home, and there's a chance that they'll see your- um, friend, and..."

Before you can internally slap yourself for letting your mouth run like a river, he swivels around fully and his hand leaves the doorknob.

"You're sure?" he whispers.

"Only if you are," you reply, looking directly into his eyes, and Dan Heng awkwardly trudges back over to sit beside you on your bed, a blush dusting his face.

"I don't really know how to start," he admits, "I've never really... you know."

"Me neither," you reply with a nervous chuckle, trying to make light of the situation. "I mean, if you're up to it, I guess we can start with, um, kissing, or something..."

As if on cue, he leans towards you, cupping your cheek in his hand, and your eyes close as your lips touch.

It's your first kiss, too, so you don't really have anything to go off of, but this kiss makes your knees weak and you press your hands against his broad chest, seeking stability. He wraps his other hand around your waist at this action and as the kiss deepens, his lips travel down your jaw and to your neck, eventually coming to rest on your collarbone, where he plants another kiss and leans further into your touch.

You, meanwhile, reach for the tent in his sweatpants and start to rub it though the fabric, eliciting a whine from the larger man. He bucks up into your palm, desperate for more friction, and raises his lips to the shell of your ear, whimpering and quietly gasping in overwhelming pleasure. His large hands finally settle on your waist and his fingers dig into your skin as you continue your ministrations and smile into his shoulder.

"Please," he begs softly, "need to feel you 'round me."

He didn't need to tell you twice as you immediately get the hint and drop down to your knees in front of him. You hook a finger over the band of his sweatpants, tugging at it while looking up at Dan Heng with pleading, wide eyes.

He mutters an expletive when he lifts his hips up, cheeks reddening every second that passes, and as the clothes pool around his ankles, you can see the outline of his thick cock through the material of his boxers.

You decide to tease him (again, and you will never get tired of it because his reactions are way too cute to stop) and glide your fingers over the bulge, at which he squirms, but doesn't dare to take his eyes off of yours.

His hips rise again, and another article of clothing is shed, but this time his lower half is completely naked, so you finally get to see what he's been packing in there.

It's gorgeous compared to the ones that you've seen online. It's standing at attention, slightly twitching whenever your hot breath meets the tip. Dan Heng sees your eyes widen and swallows nervously as you subconsciously lick your lips.

"Is it not...?" he trails off, eyebrows furrowed.

You shake your head, still mesmerized. "No, no, it's very pretty."

He whines when you lean closer to it, eventually bringing it to rest against your cheek. You look up at the man as your hand wraps around its base and you hum at how warm it is.

"You ready?" you ask. You're rubbing your thighs together at this point - his half-lidded eyes, red, swollen lips parted in a sigh, and cheeks dusted with pink elicit a reaction from you like no erotic content ever could.

"Yes- yes, (y/n), please, need you so much, please," he gasps desperately, hands reaching to his sides and grabbing the blanket underneath him. You fulfill his request with a light kiss to the red tip of his now-leaking cock (at which a whimper escapes his lips and he almost bucks up) and take it into your mouth.

His long fingers weave through your hair at the back of your head in an attempt to feel more of you - you then moan, sending delicious vibrations to his cock which throbs in appreciation.

"You're s'warm," Dan Heng hisses through his teeth above you, tears about to fall from his watery eyes, "so, so tight, fuck! Such a good girl f'me, yeah-"

You take more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as his tip hits the back of your throat. Your gag reflex activates and your throat constricts - the raven-haired man above you nearly chokes at the feeling while you drag your lips off of his cock.

"'M sorry," you whisper as you slowly stroke it, feeling it pulse in your soft hands.

"Don't be, that was - ah - felt so good," he pants. "You okay, though?"

"Yeah, 'm all right... can we continue, though?"

"Please."

You stop stroking it and attempt to fit it all in once more, sharp gasps coming from the man above you. You almost reach the base, but his tip prods against the back of your throat so you have no choice but to suck it, bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Rogue specks of your saliva land on it just to pool on your lips as they hungrily come back down his shaft.

He's arching his back from the pleasure, applying a little pressure to your head to guide it in a steady rhythm. His hips start bucking up faster and faster as he gets close to his orgasm - he's shaking his head, screwing shut his eyes as deep, throaty groans are ripped from his chest.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck... doin' so well, pretty girl - ah! - makin' me feel s'good, yeah? 'M gonna cum, baby, just keep - fuck - suckin' me off like that like a good girl, please, fuck, please-"

Eventually he can't take it anymore. His hips are now wildly thrusting up into your mouth, lower abs flexing at the movements, he's panting, drooling, and crying all at the same time - it's so overwhelming and it feels so amazing that he cums with a single, broken moan.

Dan Heng's chest is heaving up and down as he comes down from his high, soothing hand petting your head gently. You attempt to stand, but fail as you topple back onto the ground, laughing.

"Cock so good you can't stand back up?" he teases jokingly, and lends you his hand so he can pull you back up onto the bed.

"Hah, you wish," you smirk back and giggle again. "So, what are we then? Are we still friends, or have we been demoted to student and tutor again?"

His eyes narrow and cloud with lust as an idea pops into his head - you swallow nervously when you meet his darkened gaze. He grabs your wrist and pushes you back, his other hand now greedily kneading your thigh.

"We'll see after I repay you."

[lovelettersforthedamned]

re: “congrats on 200 followers, lovely!! you deserve 100x more! could i request 8 from the angst prompt + hurt/comfort 5 ❄️❄️”

oh my gosh i didn’t even realise i forgot to put a character - suppose that’s what happens when you spend all night on tumblr 😭 tasm Peter or Matt Murdock pls <333

Priorities

--genre: angst :(

--pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader

--word count: 1.1k

--warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, arguing, matt is the king of self sabotage, angst.

i'm a sucker for some good angst omg

“He hasn’t been alright (Y/N),” Karen sighs, “when he’s here he’s on edge. I know he can hear things we can’t, but it’s like…it’s like he’s not really here.”

You’re sitting next to her at Josie’s bartop, the crowd is mellow on this rainy Wednesday night. You can tell Karen is genuinely concerned about Matt, the look in her eye tells you so. You’re running through the possible reasons why your boyfriend could be feeling this way, but you draw a blank. You furrow your eyebrows, frustrated, “He’s been quiet lately, but he never brings it up.” 

The blonde in front of you takes another sip of her drink before she clears her throat, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I have a feeling it has something to do with the devil.”

You can only nod your head. You hate when Matt gets in over his head about his nightly activities, it’s hard when you can’t do anything about it, not like he lets you anyway. “I’ll keep an eye out for him the next few days,” you reach into your wallet for cash, “just keep me updated about how he is at work, okay?”

She stands with you from the seat, giving you a tight hug as you say your goodbyes, and heading home to your apartments. You can’t help but think about Matt the entire walk home, your mind taking you to dark places. It wasn’t hard to worry about him, considering the fact that he loves to push himself past the limit more often than not. 

You would never tell him to stop, right? 

***

For the next few days, you start to pay attention to Matt when he’s home. The first thing you notice is that he seems to always be in a rush. He’s quick to get ready for the day, and he’s quick to get ready for the night. You’re not sure where this sudden boost in drive has come from, but what Matt doesn’t realize is that the quicker he riles himself up, the harder he plummets. 

You’ve gotten multiple texts from Karen during the day that Matt is blowing up on Foggy while clients are in the room. You know that something’s wrong, and you don’t know how to fix it, but you have to try. 

Later that day, you caught Matt putting his suit on to go out into the city, the sun draining the light away from your apartment. As he’s about to put his helmet on, your voice interrupts his movements, “Matty, can we talk real quick?”

He sighs, already walking away from you, “I’m about to leave, can we talk later?” 

“How long have you been feeling like you need to do more for the city when you do more than enough?” 

Your question catches him off guard, he stops in his tracks, his back facing you. He can hear that your heart is beating faster than normal, the question making you nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responds, quickly. 

You cannot help but laugh at his response, “You’re a terrible liar.” 

Shaking his head out of frustration, he takes a deep breath, “You don’t need to worry about anything that I do when I’m out at night, trust me.”

“Another shitty lie, Matty,” you walk towards him. Once you reach his back, you raise your hand to hold his arm, giving it a soft squeeze. Unconsciously, he leans into your touch. You know that he’s been craving this kind of softness since he started to act differently. “You know that I still worry, even though you tell me not to. I can’t help it,” you speak softly. 

And suddenly, it’s like his hard demeanor returned with a flip of a switch, “I need to get out there (Y/N),” he shrugs his arm out of your hold. You’re left there standing like an idiot in the middle of the living room as you watch your boyfriend walk away from you. You can’t help but feel angry, it’s like everything you said went through one ear and spilled out the other. Turning on your heel you walk to the closet, pulling down the suitcase, letting it slam on the floor. You don’t care. 

The obvious slam caught Matt’s attention, his worries now focused on you. He hears more shuffling coming from your shared bedroom, along with sniffles. He calls out to you, before walking to you, “(Y/N)?” 

He’s met with no response, just the sounds of your muffled sobs and the rustling of clothes. As he gets closer to you, he can taste the salt in the air as your tears stream down your face, and suddenly he’s panicking. “I never wanted it to get to this point,” you zip up the suitcase as you rise to your feet, Matt’s sudden appearance scaring you as you see his figure. 

His eyes are darting back and forth as he tries to de-escalate the situation, yet his tone is still sharp,  “What point?” 

You’re still a mess, running your hand across your eyes to wipe your tears, you smear your makeup across your skin. With an uneven breath, you respond, “You’ve reached the point where you stop valuing yourself and the people around you to dig your own grave, Matthew.” You try to make your way around Matt, but he doesn’t make it easy as he holds your shoulders, keeping you in place. 

“Don’t make me do this,” he says quietly, “don’t make me choose.”

You think that you’ve actually gotten through to him, you hope a sense of clarity has finally washed through his senses. Until you see his head twitch, his ear lifting towards the air. You can’t hear anything, but you know that he already has an exact location of whatever commotion is happening in the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. 

With your boyfriend distracted, you shrug his hands off your shoulders, “Looks like I didn’t have to make you choose, you’ve already figured out your answer yourself.” 

As you’re walking out of the bedroom and towards the front door of the apartment, Matt calls for you, “I’ll be back in a few hours, then we can talk, okay? Just–please, don’t go anywhere.”

And just like that, he slips out of the window, not even waiting for your response. Maybe Matt’s heart will never fully belong to you, and you should’ve known that when you first met him. He has always and will always dedicate himself to the city, and you’ll just have to come to terms with not being his priority. That is if you stay. 

--author's note: I KNOW THAT MY 200 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION IS DONE, BUT I HAD A BURNOUT PERIOD SO HERE'S ONE LAST FIC!!! ❄️ anon this is such a good request, thank youuuu! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support me and your fav writers! my asks/inbox is open, so send me your juicy ideas baes...ok, bye ily<3333

[ofallthingsnasty]

Pretty please could you do F, H, N, or Y for crocodile one day! I’m curious on your thoughts about him and I love when you talk about him 😭 my new obsession is the pug who he hates but tolerates just for you, so sweet 🥺

Yandere Alphabet letters a, i and q for crocodile hdsjahj anon I'm glad you like my rambles because they are so much fun to write 💕💕 regarding the little dog - don't be fooled, it's 50% him wanting to see you happy and 50% having even more leverage over you 🤭 mean man...

tw.yandere, violence, minors dni

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

Uh oh, you might want to reconsider doing that. You call it fighting back, he calls it being an ungrateful, whiny little brat and it pisses him off. There are few things that make his blood boil when it comes to you, and being defiant and insulting him is one of them. Does he know that you’re here against your will? Sure. Does he care? No. You see, he views himself as some sort of provider - he’s giving you a life a million times better than your old one. You’re cared for, well-fed, nicely dressed, don’t have to work - really, your only job is to play house when he’s around (which he isn’t all that often, busy as he is). He doesn't even expect you to fuck him for it, he just wants someone to come home to, who will let him rest his head on their lap and caress it. (Of course, he oh-so-graciously ignores the gigantic power imbalance between the two of you when it suits him, especially when it comes to the bedroom. But generally speaking, I think he can be rather mellow compared to others, can even be reasoned with to a certain extent. Just be good for him.)

He thinks he’s being more than generous, more than fair - for the position you're in. A lesser pirate would have killed you by now, he tells you, would have gotten a new toy already. No, no - he is here to stay, he wants to see you thrive, even.And if you throw it all in his face, spit at him, dare to fight him - oh, what he’ll feel will be beyond good and evil. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, darling.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Okay, good news first: When it comes to Crocodile, I’d argue that the worst experience is really limited to just one. I’ve talked about him physically lashing out at you in a moment of rage and in the weeks that have passed that thought kind of stuck with me. At his core, this man doesn't want to hurt you (deeply). Manipulating you with visual threats and possibilities is one thing, but genuinely injuring you to make you bend to his will? Not really his style. Yes, he does corporal punishments - but only because they’re so effective and can be done so quickly. (A classic action - réaction, if you will.) So, what exactly is that nebulous worst experience? It’s him either using his Devil Fruit powers or his hook on you. To even get to that point, he’d have to be beyond angry with you. It’s probably something that happens early on while you’re not yet acquainted with your new role and you dare to insult him, try to escape - maybe you spiral, his temper simply cooks over and- Trust me, he’ll never do it again. It’ll leave permanent physical damage. But it’ll also traumatize you into submission, which is the only good thing to come out of this, at least to him. You’ll both regret it. And you’ll both learn from it.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Spankings. Lots of them. It’s quick, efficient, shows you who is in charge, makes you sit a little straighter, makes you sweeter - he isn’t beyond mind games in general but when it comes to punishments, a quick correction is just more convenient. Manipulation and the likes are the long con, the work he puts in to undermine your self-esteem, to make you doubt your own feelings for your captor. But the spankings are the here and now, the thing that keeps the cat from sharpening its claws on the sofa.

You’ll learn to associate that telltale-look of tired disappointment with a sigh and over my knee, darling. He’ll ask what you’ve done wrong, will make you count, will leave you feeling so small, like an unruly child and not a fully grown adult - it’s a great way to keep you edge, to never let you forget who is in charge here, no matter how much time passes and in how many gifts he showers you.

And if it’s really dire - you get the belt. 

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

I always waver on this one. We know from the story that he isn’t afraid of planning, slowly building, waiting - Operation Utopia was a goddamn mammoth and he has the patience to wait on you for years and years to make it perfect - but. Doesn’t he deserve something soft? Someone to come home to? And what good is all that plotting and lying in wait and watching if he could have had you by that point already?He definitely won’t go ‘alright, that one’s spouse-shaped, put them in the bag’ when he sees you for the first time but he won’t wait too long for you either. Just long enough to gain sufficient intel, to get to know you a little better, to make your disappearance as smooth and seamless as possible. I’m not trying to sound harsh, but not only does he not want to wait too long - there are also other, more important things to do? He can’t spend months upon months learning about you inch by inch, he has an Ancient Weapon to seize and a country to overthrow. You can’t be mad at him when he pulls the plug at a certain moment and simply takes what he wants. It’s really only logical.

[factual-fantasy]

29 asksss

Yes

@britneyt

Aw! Thank you! :DD

@gilbertsphotography

The elven style ears are meant to make them look less human and to match the Wario bros. :0 My AU's Peach and Daisy are these tall elf like creatures, not humans. They are the same species as the Wario bros.

Jangles would prepare himself for this brutal duel in "put em up" type battle stance. Ready to give this fight his all.

Only to be squashed by Jangle. Alas, he is made of plastic <XDD

@pinkpenguin88888

XDD Thought that was a bunny at first-

:DD Thank you! But hey, nothing's stopping you from book marking the post or saving the link to it somewhere :0

@whereismycupofcoffee

Honestly I have no hope. I'm thinking its gonna bomb like the Ruin DLC did, lore wise. Calling it now there's gonna be a character named VANESSA and her nickname is VANNY even though this movie is about the first game and has NOTHING TO DO WITH VANESSA. There's gonna be a kid named Cassidy, another kid named Gregory, circus baby is gonna come out of nowhere, there's gonna be a nightmare animatronic reference, one kid is gonna look like the crying child for no reason, Springtrap is gonna talk a lot and take away the horror- its gonna be a mess. The lore will be a terrible. mess.

Horror wise it might be awesome but I am NOT looking forward to all the crap they're gonna mix in with the lore. Its soooo simple, just make a spooky movie that captures the terror that the first game created. Recreate the mystery and horror. Bonnie disappearing, Foxy running down the hall. Freddy's music. Maybe Golden Freddy?? Hints of a darker past with dead kids. It would be awesome. They don't gotta complicate the lore by adding all the other games into it but I know they will-

@palettepainter :DD Thank you!!

@randox-talore Nope! The flowers don't make them bigger. They just give the bros ice/fire powers :}

@devastatorst

Pretty much XDD

@andysalleyway

:DDD Thank you so much!! Honestly I'm surprised by the number of my followers that are into the same fandoms I'm into. Sounds like I've found my people! XDD

Thanks, I'm hoping it finally gets through to people and they'll just leave me alone..

It is! But ya gotta DM me for it so I can sus out your blog :x

I need to have some idea of who I'm letting in-

:DD Thank you so much! Also sorry, I don't take requests :/

@montygatorshusband

THANK YOU! I don't support any ships from any fandoms, I just personally don't like them. So having people harp on me and my AU because a "canon ship" isn't in it was really annoying.. 😓

Glamrock Bonnie and Foxy would be thinking "Wow, they look different/great! :00"

Glamrock Freddy and Chica are like "WHY IS BONNIE SO LARGE"

Oooo that would be cool! All my versions of Bonnie are slow, so having him throw things at Gregory would be terrifying-

@ocinstituterep

The reason why I haven't drawn any classic mermaids like that is because it felt kind'a weird to add a half human creature into the Octonauts universe. Considering humans don't exist in it.. Now that post with the mermaid thing actually has the creature looking humanoid for sure. Because it would look more alien if it was human. But I kept the scales because a straight up half human mermaid would just feel out of place-

@mashmellowy

Firealpaca! :}}

@oddesto

XD Thank you!! Also my WHOLE BLOG?? Dang. I apologize for all the Gravity falls cringe you had to see-

XD Factual Fanta, that's great 🤣🤣

@citrusfruitman

I think those people are just salty because they wanna draw my stuff but I wont let them. My true fans will have basic human respect and just not draw fanart without sending me hate and rude comments.

@danman22ful

Monty is much more mellow and kind in the Partial swap. Although he still can be a bit of a grump sometimes. The way Bonnie is treating everyone (mostly Foxy) really angers/upsets him.

Roxy hasn't changed a whole lot tbh. Full of grief and self loathing. Except I don't think she'd have this "I'm better than you" attitude. Her thinking that Freddy's death was her fault would crush her. Just like Monty was crushed in the OG au.

:DDD Thank you!! Also really? :00 Wow, great minds do think alike! XD

Aw, I'm sorry that you relate to Bonnie's struggles, <:(

I was thinking he would do 1 of 2 things.

Either this bombshell that his late friends of 10 years are alive, would be so emotionally overwhelming that he would completely shut down. Literally. They would break into his room and Bonnie is collapsed on the floor. And cannot be reactivated. And when he does eventually reactivate, he absolutely refuses to acknowledge or speak to anyone in anyway..

OR, hearing that Chica and Freddy are alive, would completely drown out any other feeling. They're alive, he would rush out of his room to go see them. All of his stress, all of his anger would be swept away in favor of his anxiousness to see his friends again. And finally, he would talk to people again somewhat. Every day would get easier knowing that once its over he can go see Freddy and Chica again.

I haven't decided which one is better <XD

@burningmusicfunnygiant (Post in question)

Oh a whole mix of emotions. Mostly joy and sadness though.. Joy to see them alive after all these years. But sadness too see the horrible states they're in.. Mostly Freddy's state-

<XD Don't worry I wont. I know some of the angsty bits of Bluey but not enough to draw stuff and traumatize you all-

You are spared this time! XDD

[hoedamn-eron]

listen okay

been thinking about Oscar's characters and what they're like as dads

Spoke very briefly with @writefightandflightclub about this, months ago (can't even find the post it was that long ago - I'll link it later if I do - FOUND IT)

Poe Dameron is a girl dad

Santiago Garcia is a girl dad (see here)

Steven Grant is a girl dad

And Marc Spector and Jake Lockley

(Jake especially)

But Nathan Bateman

Nathan Bateman oozes boy dad

Because, right:

Nathan created Ava and has the mindset that girls are scary

(And Luna pointed out that he'd be wary after that having a girl after 'the incident' and I agree)

Seems like the kind of guy to say 'first time, guaranteed' after sex, when you both agree to start trying

(he was right, it was)

(you still don't know how he did it)

Anyways, you both have a boy

He needed to find out at your anomaly scan because he hasn't been able to control one single thing during this pregnancy and he hates it

So he voted he found out the gender

Makes you put on classical music for "the foetus" (Nathan's words) because he seems like that type of guy

Not that he doubts the kid'll be a genius, but it can't hurt

When your son is here, Nathan would be a mess

It was one thing knowing you were pregnant, seeing the bump and ultrasounds and all

But now there's an actual kid

A kid that is fully reliant on him

Nathan probably wouldn't sleep for weeks

Just sit and works and watches the kid, make sure he's breathing

He'd mellow out eventually, when you'd told him he needed sleep and can't keep doing this to himself

You took over the night shift after that, mostly

He isn't the kind of dad to rough house

But one that you'll catch talking out coding issues to an infant who just stares at Nathan, just because of the sound of his voice

Your son would look nothing like you, and take everything after Nathan (he's super smug about it too - not only can he make literal lifelike robots, but he has 'superior genes' too)

Would want to call the boy something unique like Silas, or Atlas, something along those lines

You had veto'd them very quickly

But Silas grew on you, so I can imagine you agreed to a unique name

Once your son was old enough, he'd definitely teach him how to box

Since Nathan's sleep schedule is fucked (he's working on it), he's always up first with the kid

You'll always find them on the decking at the punching bag

Nathan was always guiding him, praising him when your son eventually punched the bag

You and Nathan both regularly went out on hikes (he enjoyed them more than you did) even before the kid

When the kid was born, it was easy to carry him around in a carrier on your chests

But when he got older and learned to walk, he never wanted to be carried

And the hikes took longer

So now Nathan's planned out new family friendly routes for you all, where you'll all be out for an hour, tops, and not far from the house

Nathan really hates mess, so will probably follow the kid around once he starts walking, just picking up after him

If he's stressed or hungover (he's working on that too) he would probably yell at you to sort it out

He'd apologise later after you chewed him out, even offering to do bath time and get the kid ready for bed

"I'll read him a story or some shit"

(It's probably Stephen Hawking)

He'd arrange someone to decorate the kids bedroom to look like space or something

You had a field day looking around the IKEA website and choosing what you wanted for your son's dream bedroom, but Nathan had just rolled his eyes and got the more expensive, designer, equivalent and it was delivered within a week

You'd told him off for doing it, but he just shrugged at you wordlessly as he set up the bedroom for your son

This is long enough, I'm gonna stop here, but now I want to write a full series of dad!Nathan 😭😭😭

[luveline]

Hii!!! This is a request for Steve zombie!au

I don’t know how you do it but this au (and everything you write honestly) ITS AMAZING!!!!

I read that you wanted to eventually write about Steve+reader having kids so I was wondering if maybe you could write something like them talking about what they think their future would look like or Steve seeing reader interact with children and it just warms his heart… idk

Again, your work is truly so so so good, I love it!!

Hope you have a beautiful day <3

hi! thank you 🥺 I hope this is what you mean!! steve zombie!au ♥︎ fem!reader

On a rare day where you have work to do in the community and Steve doesn't, he misses you like crazy. He'd complain profusely about this wicked scenario to Robin, if only Robin weren't on shift too. As it lies, Steve is alone, bored and restless with your pillow pulled against his chest. 

Steve is functional. Steve is a fully grown man, with hobbies, interests, and a personality outside of being with you. But Steve is in love, and he isn't ashamed to admit that his very favourite hobby is being with you. You are the most interesting thing around. 

It's cold today, though he wears two pairs of socks, denim jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and a loose hoodie under the thick layer of blankets you keep on the bed. 

You must be cold. 

Your jacket's right there on the door. You'd forgotten to take it with you to the kitchen. 

Steve doesn't feel proud of himself, per se, but he also doesn't feel ashamed when he ends up in the doorway of the cafeteria. School is in session, their makeshift teacher Sammy standing near the dishes trolly with a whiteboard and pen. She's drawn a huge diagram of a piece of paper with cuts missing, and a smaller one of that paper seemingly after the cuts are made, labelled Origami Giraffe. 

He's surprised to see you near immediately, sitting at one of the cafeteria tables with a bundle of the community's youngest children (babies and toddlers not included). 

You're snipping at a sheet of paper slowly, hands held up so the dark-haired girl to your right can reach the crayons in front of you. 

"Will you cut mine for me next, please?" a blonde headed boy asks him. He's pale, and as Steve draws closer he can see the little boy's brown eyes. 

He kind of looks like me, Steve thinks, startled.

"Of course I will," you say gently. "You're a great artist, honey, I love all these purples and greens you're using." 

"It doesn't look like the driraffe." 

His mispronunciation has you smiling. It's an expression Steve knows well, your guilty bemusement. 

"That's okay! Do you know how many drawings of giraffes there are? Millions and trillions, and I bet none of them are as brightly made or as creative as the one you've made." 

"What about mine?" the dark-haired girl asks. 

You pause your cutting to peek at her giraffe. "That's so cute, I love it," you praise. "Wow, I'm sitting with the next Picasso's and I didn't even know it." 

Your voice… Steve's barely ever heard you speak like that. So soft, and so loving. 

Not that you don't speak to him sweetly, half the time he thinks your words are more love than sense, but this is new. That's how parents talk to their kids, how sisters talk to younger siblings, and aunties talk to niblings. It's a familial, mellow sound.

It kind of drives him crazy. He tightens his hands in the fabric of your jacket, head racing with thoughts he hadn't stopped to think of before. You with kids. You with a family, his family. Kids that look like you, that carry your features and your sweetness around for you when you can't.

Kids that don't look a thing like you, or him.

You put down the scissors and hand over a freshly cut, stand-up giraffe to one of the kids. It looks great, and the kid says thank you with a clumsy ardency that you clearly adore. 

"You're welcome, Nina," you say. "I'll do yours next, Hal, if you're ready." 

The blonde boy passes you his giraffe. Before you take up the scissors again, you look at the boy's front, and you laugh kindly. "Baby, your buttons are all wrong. They're wonky, see?" 

"Oh," Hal says, looking down, "I don't know how to do them."

"I can help, if you want." 

He nods voraciously. You start to correct his buttons in silence, and Steve isn't afraid to admit to himself that it's the last straw. There is something endearing, hypnotising about watching you take care of others, he thinks the forbidden words — you would make the most beautiful mother. 

You giggle and straighten Hal's shirt when you're done. "Tada." 

"Thanks," Hal says, sounding pleased. 

"You're super welcome. Stevie?" 

It takes Steve a second to realise you're talking to him. You're looking up at him where he's frozen, concern knitting together your darling brows. "Is everything okay?" 

"I just– brought your jacket. It's cold." 

You stand up from the table and pat Hal on the shoulder, a frown twisting over your face. 

"You look pale," you say, taking your jacket. You pull it on one arm at a time, and tilt your head back as Steve dives in to zip it up. "How are you feeling?" 

"I'm fine," he says. I'm going insane, he thinks.

"You caught me slacking off." 

"This is slacking off?" 

You huff a laugh. "Well, yeah. I should be checking the dates on a box of cornflour right now." 

"You haven't mentioned this," —he gestures vaguely at the table of art's and crafts— "before. Do you come in here a lot?" 

You hum as you wrap your hands around his wrists. You pull his hands to your shoulders, and grin when he gets the memo and gives you a hug. 

"Thanks for bringing my jacket." 

His hand scrapes up your back, trying to pull you closer when you're as close as you can possibly be. "You know how busy my schedule is." 

"I know." Your sarcasm is biting. "My poor boy." Less so. 

You pull away and he still can't believe it. You have an air of content about you, a lightness he's always amazed to see. 

"Sammy asks me for arts and crafts help all the time. The uh, apocalypse kind of threw a spanner into the works for most of these kids. Some of them don't know how to write, or use scissors. And we all know they barely need me in the pantry, they could replace me with a well organised book." 

"Do you like helping out here?" he asks carefully. 

"Yeah, I do." 

His head is reeling. 

The future is a long way away and right here at the same time. You and Steve could make something. 

He doesn't know what you want. Maybe you don't want kids, maybe you won't be ready for another ten years, but the possibility isn't something Steve can ignore. 

"You can stay and help if you want to?" you ask.

He doesn't have control over his own body when he nods, a panging ache in his chest for the possible future. You beam and lead him over to the table of children, taking up your scissors as Steve settles in a chair a ways away from you. 

"Hi, guys, this is my boyfriend, Steve. I bet some of you have seen him before. He's gonna help us with the cutting out, okay?" 

Steve smiles at the gaggle of little faces that turn his way. "Hey, guys. I'm a way better cutter outer than Y/N, so if you want the best giraffe you gotta ask me." 

Some are old enough to understand his sarcasm, and some aren't. He's delighted when Hal, the blonde-haired, brown-eyed boy, turns to you to stroke your arm. "It's okay," he says, "I still think you're the best one." 

"Thank you, Hal." 

[scoobysnakz]

Hard Luck

Chap iv

It’s hard finding love when your sole reason to live is your daughter, but when her best friends dad is annoyingly attractive and might have something to do with your rent randomly getting paid, who can blame you for being a little curious?

||* mostly fluff, Raya being an undiagnosed autistic child bc I'm plotting something evil, domestic Miguel if you squint, slightly pervy reader, mentions of oral reader receiving, reader being a silly fan-girl, cliff hanger bc why not.

Guilt. It's an overwhelming feeling that sits in the pit of his stomach in a way he's far too familiar with.

Miguel can name all the good and bad things about guilt. The way it allows you to be held accountable for your actions makes, your mind fray with culpability. How it can prevent someone- him- from doing something that will drive them- him- insane and remind them- him- that they have to have morals that keep them- him- grounded. Or else… or else.

There have been plenty of times Miguel has felt culpability and they have all been about something much more drastic than this. He's lost people, a family, so, so many versions of his family.

He needs to get this universe right. The thought of losing Gabi again makes his gut clench and that ticking in his jaw form again.

The first time it had happened, people had been upset for him, Peter had left him alone without being asked more than once and Jess was just the right amount of critical and loving. They were his guilt.

Then it happened again. And again. And again. And then people were becoming concerned for him, but the kind where they scolded and questioned him so he stopped telling people each time he found a universe he could live in. That first universe was the only one he destroyed he's made sure of that.

And yet he's feeling so intensely guilty for his stalker-like tendencies when he's done much worse.

He knows he shouldn't have followed you, waited for you to enter the shop and prayed to anyone above that your card would cancel. But he needed to get your number- for parental reasons of course. And now he has it.

“I can't do that again,” Miguel groans, hand sliding down his face as he slumps into his chair.

Lyla snickers at him, hands covering her face while her legs kick in the air. Miguel looks over at her, expression unamused.

“It was a complete betrayal of her trust,” his fingers drum on the smooth wood of his desk.

“Don’t think the two of you had a trusting relationship, considering you only just got her number.” her teasing earns her a wave of dismissal.

“I’m this close,” he holds his hand in the air, thumb and index finger millimetres away, “from replacing you.” His leg bounces up and down, jaw tightened and lips pursed.

She scoffs at him and waves a blurred-out finger at him before slumping down on his desk. “But if you replace me how will you watch your girlfriend?”

“You aren't funny. I was watching her because I needed… her daughter is Gabi’s friend I can't have her being some scumbag.” his tone is harsh, fed up, and irritated, but he can't bite back the grin that forms at her teasing.

“She isn't a scumbag…”

Lyla hums in feigned disagreement, her minute pixelated frame now perched on his shoulder as she smirks up at him.

“She’s nice… to me, and old people.”

He glances out the window, dark clouds threatening rain as they swarm the grey sky. He sighs and looks back over at Lyla. He came to this universe for Gabi.

But he can't stop himself from thinking back to the way you smelt. The faint coconut and the mellowness of your washing powder settled gently against his skin like a thin, taunting mist, teasing his stiffening cock.

He relishes the way you let him pull you near. How easily you submitted to the man who hasn't even had a proper conversation with you and pretended to be his partner- his wife. How you put up such a lazy fight against it that it felt almost playful. How your eyes softened the moment you saw him. How you allowed him to help you despite the embarrassment that followed it.

“When you’ve finished being hopeless lover boy,” Lyla chirps, “you might want to y’know be Spiderman.”

***

Miguel didn't expect his offer to go so well. He just assumed that being stuck with two nine-year-old girls for a few hours would be hell but it's surprisingly entertaining.

He knows Gabi inside and out, yet when she's with Raya she's different. And it doesn't feel forced.

The two of them spent ages trying to figure out a flavour because they obviously had to have the same one. They both ended up choosing chocolate, much to Miguel’s distaste. And then when Gabi wanted a sprinkle cone but Raya wanted a plain one they ended up getting tubs.

“It's because she's my best friend, papá,” Gabi had stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which had made him chuckle.

“How was school?” he asks, feeling a little left out of the conversation.

Raya’d attention is immediately diverted towards him, wide eyes following each movement of his face. “It was fun,” she says quietly- shyly, making sure to swallow before speaking. It’s good table manners

“Papá, we’re talking!” Gabi whines with a pout, “Raya doesn't want to tell you about her day because you're boring.”

So he sits there, practically spilling out of the tiny metal chair, watching them laugh at him and whatever else makes girls their age giggle the way they are. He keeps a smile on his face and his phone on vibrate, waiting for you to reply to his text, or read it at least.

***

Your back arches with ecstasy, hips jolting upwards towards the source of your pleasure. You can feel your gummy walls clenching and when you look down to see what it is that's sliding inside your cunt, you’re met with the sight of the top of someone's head.

Thick, brown curls, all unfurled as you slide your fingers away. They look familiar in a way that makes you feel giddy.

Desperate to see who’s providing this bliss, you push their head away. You’re left with an achy, empty feeling as they pull their fingers out of you and drag their tongue off your puffy folds but you'll have to push past it. Maybe whine a little, but you'll manage.

You look down, brain too fuzzy with arousal to even process Miguel’s deep, chocolatey eyes gazing up at you. He's smiling boyishly, fangs poking over the tops of his perfectly formed, lips that are coated in a deliciously thick layer of your arousal.

“Can I keep going, Hermosa?” his velvety voice rumbles, sending chills down your spine.

Before you get a chance to beg for more than his skilled fingers and soft tongue, the sound of a traumatic radar sound blares and you’re forced awake.

You lie there for a moment, one hand lazily slung across your forehead while the other grips your mouth.

You can't tell if it's guilt or arousal but you can't think straight. All you know is that you just had a painfully realistic dream of a man you barely know eating you out. Part of you wishes it lasted longer but that's beside the point.

There's an uncomfortable slickness between your thighs and you're slightly tempted to do something about it but the constant ringing of your alarm reminds you that you do, in fact, have some form of common sense.

Ignoring the guilt that's swimming in your gut, you sit upright, legs dangling over the edge of the sofa. You sit there for a moment, trying to figure out if you should be feeling that guilt or if it's your brain’s fault. You settle for the latter.

Yawning, you pick up your phone, scanning for notifications you know aren't there. A few from the weather app, another from a period tracking app that says your ovulating (that explains the dream- hopefully) and then… a text from Miguel.

It's one of those texts that you don't know how to reply to, it's got a simple answer but that's rude and all of the emojis are far too informal for someone you have saved as ‘Gabi’s dad’

You stare at Miguel’s text. Let the letter jumble up and scramble into unintelligible blobs as your eyes start to sting with tears before you allow yourself to blink.

I’ve got the girls. Could you text me your address so I can drop Raya off later?

He’s got the girls and now he wants your address. That's the part that makes it so hard to reply.

You don't live in the nicest of areas, graffiti in the stairwell that you have to use because the lift stinks of piss, loud neighbours and a possibly dead cat stuffed into one of the bins at the entrance.

It's embarrassing.

Miguel’s a tailored man, with slicked-back hair and freshly ironed clothes. You contemplated lying about your address, tell him it's some random house, meet him outside before quickly running off with Raya to get the bus.

But you don't want her growing up ashamed of not having money. You can't have her becoming a pompous brat who whines about not getting things. Because that's not who is she now, nor will she ever be.

You tap the smooth glass of your phone screen over and over again with your thumb before forcing yourself to reply. And almost immediately you get a reply

‘👍’

You can't stop the smile that forms on your lips at how fast his response is, he was probably on his phone or coincidentally looking checking his notifications when you sent the text.

But now you have nothing to do. You couldn't pick up an extra shift because- thanks to your stupidity- you somehow forgot that you can't randomly change your hours as a carer. And apparently, you can't even sleep without being a pervert.

Sleep sounds nice though. Your eyes are heavy with countless nights of single-digited hours of sleep. It's pulling at your brain in a way that makes your thoughts fuzzy and your body slowly sinks back into the sofa again.

A loud thudding noise startles you from your sleep. It's repetitive and loud so your first instinct is to slam off your alarm but when you see a blank screen you divert your fatigued brain to the front door.

Completely forgetting about Raya being out with Miguel and Gabi, you pull the door open. You look a mess, mascara smudged and eyes heavier than the weights he probably lifts with those delicious arms…

“Mum,” Raya mumbles, her face buried in her chest as pulls you close.

You stumble back, fighting back a yawn, and nearly fall onto the sofa but Raya pulls you forward. “Hey, baby,” you smile down at her, laughing awkwardly at nearly making a complete fool of yourself.

You drag your gaze up to Miguel, his board shoulders filling out the doorway while his hand clutches onto Gabi’s.

“Miguel,” your voice is groggy but cute and it makes him feel safe on the inside, “Thank you for having her.” You go to playfully nudge Raya but she's no longer next to you, now shyly hidden behind you, clutching into your shirt.

“She has beautiful manners,” his voice is like velvet that's been melted by a log fire and poured on top of Valentine's chocolates.

He looks down at you, eyes briefly tearing away from you to discreetly inspect your apartment. It's cute, homely, you. Lots of blankets and cushions, picture frames dotted around, and a random coat stand that stands bare.

“Would you like to come in?” you offer, attempting to stifle another yawn, failing to succeed as pleasantly the last time.

Miguel opens his mouth, pretty lips parted so perfectly that your half-awake brain might just fall for him on the spot.

“Please, papá! Raya said she has a bunch of teddies!” Gabi pleads, her accent bearing a striking resemblance to Miguel’s.

Before he gets a chance to decline, she pushes past him and skips over to Raya. She grabs her hand and almost immediately her awkwardness melts away as they run into her room.

“Sorry, she's really-”

“Bold?” you offer, head cocked to the side.

“Yeah... Let's go with that version.”

The two of you share an awkwardly dry chuckle before you both look away.

“Coffee?” you break the silence.

“Would be nice,” he finishes for you.

Nervously, you lead him to your minute kitchen island, kicking random toys out of the way before he gets a chance to see them.

As he walks through your apartment, your home, Miguel can't help but feel at ease. It's messy but not in an unhygienic way, you can just tell it's lived in happily.

The waterrings on the countertops, a random bag of bouncy balls left on the floor for someone to trip on. Miguel can imagine himself here, not living, but staying.

Maybe his shoes lazily kicked off in a slobbish pile on the sofa, Gabi’s coat slung on the unused coat rack next to Raya’s and yours.

“Sorry it's a mess, I was going to tidy up but I got… sidetracked. But I promise it's not normally this messy, just today. Which is strangely coincidental but it really isn't. And-”

“It's nice in here,” he cuts you off as if he couldn't hear what you'd just said.

His small slither of praise makes you smile. That toothrottingly sweet smile that makes every fibre of his being burn with arousal.

“Thanks.”

You turn your back to him, searching for your coffee before you grab a small glass jar that has instant coffee in it.

“Fuck,” you grumble, “its empty. So… no coffee for us,” you laugh.

He shrugs his shoulders and takes the jar from you.

“Bin?” he asks.

“There,” you point, “left side is recyclable and right is the other stuff.”

He opens the bin and drops the jar, smiling in satisfaction as it lands with a soft third. He lifts his foot from the pedal before catching a glimpse of red. Curious, he presses down on the pedal again and reads the block writing.

EVICTION NOTICE

[heartfullofleeches]

Yandere Show Host (oc) x Gn! Co-Host Reader

Word count:3.k 

Warning: cheating, psychological horror, body horror

“It’s cold up here…”

Cool tiles cradle you, curved edges gliding against the back of your legs as you pull them to your chest. You cover your knees with the hem of your shirt, trying to fight the cold in any way possible. The harsh wind slapped at your face and arms; world at your feet from the edge you sat on. You wanted to feel like you were on top of it all. To shout and feel like you mattered to the universe; but it was hard to do so with no comfort at the end of your cries – neither below nor beside you.

“I think we should take a break.”

You ball your fist into your clothes. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it.

“You know I care about you. I just… don’t think I’m ready for this kind of commitment, yet. I’ll.. call you when I am.”

You pull your phone out of your pocket. He’s still right beside you, but so – so far away. You stare down at it, hoping; pleading for his ring tone to play. Praying he won’t leave you again to spend a night in another’s arms. 

“Y/n, ugh- come on. Don’t do this.” 

Your hands shake. It’s always your fault.

“We just need a little time apart.”

Always we. Your feet feel like they’re losing stability; slipping off to the abyss below. 

“Y/n. Y/n?!”

Y/n?

-

You open your eyes. A fan hangs over a velvet ceiling, chandelier below swaying as it blows air down on you. Floral shaped glass that held identical lights as their bulbs. Satin pillows held your back, soft enough to lure you back to sleep near immediately – had you been laying on them completely. Your limbs hung off the side of the couch, neck supported by a hand at its base. The skin was so cold; draining your natural heat till it mellowed into a neutral temperature. The permanent smile on your co-host's face greets you as you turn your attention to him, shoulders rising with a laugh. 

“What have I told you about sleeping on the couch, you silly thing.” Host chimes. “You’ll get a crook in your neck. Bad for the show and yourself.”

You sit up with his aid, stretching the exhaustion and ache away with a yawn. The rest of the room wasn’t much to look at. A tall mirror clung to one wall, dressing table pushed in front and light bulbs screwed into its golden frame. Vases of flowers and various cases of makeup lined the table, the latter hardly ever put to use. A rack of clothing stood not too far off, every article tailored to your measurements as apposed to posted to Host’s lanky, slightly built frame. Lastly, there was a grey door, covered by sheer curtains and your name bolded in cursive across its wood. A place where your near every desire lied.

“I'm sorry. Yesterday had me a little more winded than usual.”

“Should we take a break for today then? We can have a good show any day, but a spectacular one only happens when you’re feeling 100%”

“No, no. I’m fine.”

“Wonderful. Shall we get ready then?” Host offers his hand, lifting you to your feet effortlessly. You walk over to the table, taking a seat upon the cushioned chair in front of it. Host tends to your hair, combing out your bedhead with his long fingers. Gentle strokes that fall down to the nape of your neck; relishing in the life beneath his fingertips. He hums to himself, satisfied with his work. With the fact he had such a stunning co-host. His chin rests atop your head; head tilted towards the mirror at you. In the corner of your eye lies your old phone dormant on the edge of the table. It vibrates with the arrival of a call.

“Absolute perfect! Everyone’s gonna love you out there.”

You flash a tired smile, ridding yourself of the hallucination as you look away. How long has it been since you became his co-host? You couldn’t remember. Time stood still for the most part; your only notion of it bring a bell that would toll before the start of each show. It was frightening at first. As a contestant, your time was spent cowering under the audiences' awaiting gaze; but upon your glorious win they did nothing but sing praises to the heavens – celebrating the new permanent figure on their stage. Though he’d never tell another soul, Host walked you through everything until that point. A bit of a cheat, sure, but he knew you’d be wonderful at everything after. They loved you, eternally – even when there were those days you wondered what life was like back home. 

“What’s with that look? Do you need something?”

Host snaps his fingers, a stage hand appearing front the shadows. They looked so close to human; differences spilt only when given a long glance. Crooked hands carry a tray; skin an even deeper grey than his. Their neck was a few inches too long; face blank except for a pristine smile – just like your dear Host. He takes a pitcher from the tray, pouring you a glass of water into a cup that wasn’t there moments ago. His hands rest on your shoulders, smoothing the knots in your joints.

“Please let me know what you need.”

You look down. “I was just wondering…if anyone missed me back home.”

The ice in the glass settles. Silence kicks in too long to be comfortable, before Host’s body begins to shudder once more. It quakes with the force of his laughter. His form hutches over yours, trying to keep the laughs inwards to his best extent. He wipes an imaginary tear from an imaginary eye before addressing you again.

“Of course they miss you! You’re bound to be the highlight of anyone’s day, Y/n, but you must remember, this is home now. You’re no bigger of a star to anyone than us.”

“I.. I know, but I cant help it sometimes, y'know?” You say, offering a small chuckle of your own.

Of course he knows. He knows everything about you. Fears, likes and dislikes, – regrets. Your every dream; both in regards to what you desire and those images in your head. If it weren’t for his permanent smile, he’d be grinning with anticipation for what he had in store.

“Yes, I understand, dear. Just know that you belong here, and we’ll never let go.”

His hands clutch the sides of your arms, head angled awkwardly in the mirror. Just – staring. An alarm rings from nowhere, shutting off abruptly after the third buzz. Host clasps his hands together – you jumping at the sharp sound of his palms meeting. He smooths his slick hair back further and pulls your seat out for you.

“Well that’s our cue! Ready to give our fans another great performance?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Wonderful. Let’s get to it then.”

You stand to your feet once more, joining Host at a large curtain on the other end of the room; stage lights seeping from beneath the fabric. He exits before you, getting the crowd nice and warm up before your entrance just as he always did.

“Gooood day, lovely viewers! Welcome back to another show with your truly; your forever host – Host!”

The audience cheers. Shrill cheers that become muffled beneath the soundtrack playing around.

“Yes, yes. Hello to you all too. And what a delight greeting it has been so far. We can’t forget our wonderful co-host though, now can we? Give it up for our better half; the lovely as ever, Y/n!”

That’s your mark. The curtain bends under your hand, parting before you can even push them aside. The mutters from the crowd begin. As soon as your legs sweep over the stage floor their voices rise. The headlights blind you momentarily as you step out fully; wrapping you in a daze that felt like waking on another world. Your attire changes under the darkness behind your eyes, microphone in hand; and posture straightening as you greet your adoring fans.

“Greetings, everyone! It’s a pleasure to see you all again.” 

The shouts from the crowd are just as; if not more appraising as they were for your partner. You smile and wave; soaking up the attention. Host couldn’t be more proud.

“I think we’re ready to begin another fabulous show. And quite a special one we have today. Y/n, do you know what today is?”

“Uh.. Wednesday?”

Host laughs, followed by a few chuckles from the audience. 

“Oh, Y/n. Wednesday was last month. Today is the one year anniversary of you being our gracious star!”

The lights flicker off, returning with a central beam pointed directly at you. A banner hangs over head; congratulating you on the anniversary in bold, red lettering. Balloons and confetti fall around you. The audience hollers in cheer.

“We do love our co-host, don’t we now? Unfortunately, it seems to me that they don’t understand the lengths of our affection. By the end of today’s show I think they’ll have a change of heart.”

Your throat feels dry. What was he on about? Keeping a straight face, you smile into your mic. 

“Thank you, all so much. You’re too kind..” 

 “Haha. No, Y/n, I think you are.. Let’s bring out our contestant!”

The room goes dark once again, more abruptly than the last. When everything settles, the layout of the stage had changed. The vacant area to your right was now blocked by a half wall you could see around if you peak – screen above showing all you needed to see. A large red heart was pastured to the wall behind, three chairs and a podium placing in tow. A landline phone was placed on a stand, as well as one on the podium.  Shadows sat to each chair, dim lighting concealing their faces. The fourth stood at the podium, writhing around in place with muffled cries. You could see the outline of fingers over its mouth; the silhouette of more limbs encasing its body and keeping it in place. 

“The game of this episode is all about missed connections. In our lives, we make so many new ones, we have to snip the old to make room. No matter how strong the cord may be. Our eager bachelor here knows a lot about that, which is why he’s perfect for our show! Put your hands together for, S!”

Illumination returns to the other half of the stage. The arms around the contestant vanish with the glow; leaving a blindfolded and shaken up man in their stead. Beads of sweat drip from his temple; him squirming in place like he was trying to get off the podium, but was unable. His hands were stuck to the surface no matter how hard he pulled. He was dresses in a letterman’s jacket, the embedded S pealing from the stitching – just like you remembered.

“Host?...”

His glance falls upon you for a single second, before he faces the crowd like nothing happened.

“Quite a looker, isn’t he? Our helpers for today thought so too at one point.”

“H-hey..  hey, what the hell is this? Where am I?!”

“Speaking out of turn are we? I wouldn’t advise that, unless you want to face a penalty. “

The man clams up, shaking like a dog in rain.

“Onto the rules of the game. One by one, our helpers will walk up to the phone and list a few things about themselves. It’s our contestant’s job to remember a single fact about them – their name. Three rounds for three members of his past. Simple enough, right?”

“Please.. I don’t know what I’ve done, but-"

Host lends into his microphone. “Shut up and play by our rules or face punishment like every other rule breaker. ..Let’s bring out our first assistant. Walk on down, A!”

The shadow in the seat closest to the telephone stands up. Their appearance becomes visible as they step into the light. They appeared to be a normal human being; all up to the left side of their face. It was smudged like someone rubbing off make up; lips stretched to their ear and eyelid permanent closed from the abnormality. They pick up the receiver, phone on the other end ringing in response. The constant quivers more, refusing to answer.

“Pick it up.”

The function in his arm is brought back as he hesitantly picks up the phone, putting it to his ear. 

“H…ello?”

“We met a weekend in February. I blew you a kiss, you slipped your phone number into my pocket. They had no clue while you held their hand the entire time.”

“Fuck… fuck! Um, February.. R… Riley! Your name is Riley!”

“Corrrect!” Host exclaims. The man breathes a sigh of relief as the crowd cheers. You stare at the ground. Overtime you grew a numbness to the contestants and their cruel fates. You had to, if you wanted to keep your sanity; but this was too much. Too close to home. Home you foolishly believed to be yours alone for years. It feels hard to breathe. 

“Everything alright, Y/n?”

“Yea.. Yes just….” You force yourself to bright up. “Excited for our guest getting his first question correct.”

“Glad to hear it! Onto the next one.”

The assistant at the stand leaves and the next makes their appearance. Body littered in bite marks; namely the neck and chest area. They ooze with a black liquid, dripping onto the phone as they take hold.

“We hooked up in the bathroom of the local theater. I saw you leaving a movie with your arm around someone thirty minutes later. You called me the next day. Who am I?” 

The man’s lip quivers. “I.. I..”

Steps draw near him. The assistant peers over his shoulder, receiver still in hand. The cord slaps against his neck, tightening as their breath hits his face. They repeat into the phone, unable to take otherwise. 

“Frankie.. Oh, god.. Frankie.” 

His shoulder heave at the second round of applause.  Tears fall from beneath his mask; rambling to himself as his nails rack against the podium. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-“

“Marvelous! Only one round to go.”

The process repeats. The final assistant walks to the stage. Their skin a pure black, eyes crossed out with a red, crayon like ink. The same ink was sprawled over their chest like an crude, anatomically accurate heart; bleeding down their torso. Their lips moved unnaturally as they spoke, like a frame by frame picture. 

“I was the one who you came to most. You promised we’d be together eventually. I smiled when they went-"

“Blair…” The answer comes out in a quiver. He can’t bring himself to say more. He falls to his kneels; forces holding him like a puppet on a string allow him his moment of weakness. Your own legs feel like they’ll give out as well.

“Annnd there we have it, folks! Our contestant has finished all three base questions, but there’s still the bonus around for him to complete.”

“No, no, no. No, fuck you! You said I only had to do three! You lied!”

“Now, now. When did I say “only? Let’s get too it.”

The lights flicker yet again. There’s only a chair on stage, you now in it, and under the crowd's perpetual stare. They feel closer than normal, faceless grins shifting further upwards; socket-less eyes wide open and trained on you. Host appears on the screen above, speaking for the final assistant. 

“We met in high school.”

“No.. please..”

“I was the one that learned to sew when you couldn’t afford the jacket for your team.”

“Not you… Anyone, but you.”

“I was there for you when your mother died. Covered your shifts for you and took care of you when you were sick.”

“You can’t be here..”

“You abandoned me everytime I poured my heart out to you.”

“I was scared…”

“Who am I?”

“Don’t make me say this..”

“Who. Am. I.”

“I don’t know!”

Your heart sinks in your chest.

Wrong answer~

Suddenly, everything returns to normal – as normal as it could be in this twisted place. The assistants are back, all staring past you at the contestant. He rips the blindfold from his face, looking around the room. Fear streaked his face as his eyes fell on the assistants, and you before them; silent and in tears.

“Y/n… Is that really you?”

You turn away. The assistants stand.

“Y/n! I’ve looked everywhere for you. It’s me..”

He steps off the podium towards you. They advance.

“Everyone else gave up, but I still search. I’m sorry for everything done. Please… I love-"

They grab onto him. Arms around his neck, torso, legs. Their skin melts into his; merging as they begin to drag him off stage.

“Y-y/n help! I’m so sorry. Forgive me, please!”

Your eyes remain on the floor. Even if you wanted to save him you couldn’t.

“I didn’t want to say that! The blindfold! Y/n!”

He’s gone. You’re alone once again. During the whole event the audience remains silent. You don’t know what to do.

Finish the show. It never starts. It never ends. Without you.

“A-and that brings us to the end of another show with your host, Host. And me as your co-host – Y/n!”

The crowd goes wild. It’s a standing ovation. Their hands clap like fireworks popping in your ears. Their praise rang to the high heavens. Howls, whistles, holders; all in your name for another amazing performance. Confetti falls in your hair, roses and other bouquets of flowers at your feet. 

The set up is gone. It’s just you, Host, and your adoring fans. One arm snakes around your waist as he proclaims into the microphone. 

“Is that all you got for our shinning star? Give it your all!”

An encore of approval, from the people whose love for you knew no end. The people who depended on seeing you every day and never tired from it. You relish in the saudade of their praise; raised further by one new member of audience who could finally give you the love he never could before. 

[maxarchive]

2023 L'Équipe Interview, "I'm only here to win"

For the Dutchman, on course to win his third world title in a row this weekend, success does not quell his appetite for victories. If anything, the Red Bull driver appears even more determined to not leave anything to others.

He's funny. No, that's the wrong word, because we don't joke with Max Verstappen. At least when you're not one of his close friends, because with his people, he's apparently funny. So it's interesting, not to say edifying, to recall the first interview he gave to L’Équipe. On his debut with Red Bull in 2016, the Dutchman chatted in this same Singapore paddock, just a few months after his first GP success (Spain). The kid was a young wildcat who attacked, bit, and didn't let go. It was a very constructive experience.

Nine years later, he's on the verge of becoming a triple world champion this weekend in Qatar. His arrogance has been transformed into an icy confidence, and his fiery temperament has mellowed with victory and years of taking criticism. Today, Verstappen conducts his interviews like he drives his Formula 1 car. Without trembling or worrying about his opponent. He lives his life and answers straightforwardly, without giving himself away. He's become unflappable behind the wheel, and just as unflappable when it comes to giving of himself. He does the job to perfection, faultlessly and without spark. He responds quickly and efficiently. It's easy to see how the 18 year old has become an - almost - three time world champion, who knows how to thank his team, and rightly so; who knows how essential consistency is; but above all, who knows how to rely solely on himself to win, the only thing that counts for him. In this, he really hasn't changed.

Q. How are you enjoying the season? Are you as bored as we are? Not at all (he smiles). As far as I'm concerned it's quite the opposite. I'm always excited to come to the track and I'm always 100% motivated. I feel like this is the best thing that could've happened to me. I'm a driver at heart and to be able to win at the wheel of an incredible car is a real opportunity.

Q. But what excites you? The hunt for records or the pleasure of winning? I'm only here to win. Finishing in the top five, you know, that doesn't interest me. So I stay motivated because I know I can win and I love winning. The more wins I can get, the more motivation I'll have.

Q. Do you enjoy all your successes, or do you prefer some of them? For example, do you enjoy starting at the front and taking the lead, or battling and climbing back up the field, as you did at Zandvoort? Well, I like to get out in front and focus on a race that I want to be as clean as possible. At times like these, it's the moment when I can concentrate on my lap times, look after my lap times and preserve my tyres. In short, to do the best I can. But sometimes, if you run into problems or an unforeseen event sets you back, moving up in the rankings and fighting your way back into the lead is very enjoyable too. Except that, in those moments, there's inevitably more risk involved, and when you're fighting for a Championship, that kind of risk spoils the fun a bit.

Q. At Monza, we sensed that you were greedy, following Carlos Sainz and watching out for a fault in his tyres or his driving… They were better in qualifying, but we've got a great car for the race, so I just wanted to know what theirs was like, and when I saw that it was ruining their tires, then I knew.

Q. And then, when you're easily leading a race, what do you think about? About the race, or about dinner or anything else? No, definitely not. I never think about anything other than the race when I'm driving. As I told you, I stay very focused on my lap times, on my car; I want to do the best job I can.

Q. In the past, we'd hear you complaining at your engineer when he asked you to preserve your tyres. Today, you tell us that you're careful. Is that maturity? It's just that it depends on the circumstances. When I was complaining about this way of managing the tyres, it's because I wanted to attack. I had a car to win races, not a championship. So if I saw the window open, I wanted to go for it. And I was aggressive.

Q. Speaking of qualifying, it's an area where you weren't the best when you started out, and you seem to have taken a long time to get good at it. Now, it's one of your strengths. Is this an area you've worked particularly hard on? I've always enjoyed it, but in Formula 1 it's even more complicated than in the lower disciplines. There are a huge number of parameters to manage, in addition to your driving, which has to be on the limit. When I arrived in F1, I only had one year in a single-seater, and that's not much compared with the others. So it may have taken me longer because of that, but now I've got the hang of it. And the team has given me a car that can do it. Because a driver alone can't win pole.

Q. Since the summer, we've been hearing you say that you don't see yourself, like Fernando Alonso or Lewis Hamilton, in F1 until you're 40. Are you saying this because you're afraid of boredom or because you don't have enough rivals? First of all, there are the victories. Doing F1 if I don't win anymore… (he sighs). I could get motivated again by coming back to the front and winning again. That would be motivating. Then there's the quality of life. You can't measure the schedule of an F1 driver. And it doesn't get any better as the years go by. So that's what tells me I'll stop one day.

Q. Do you think that with a real opponent next year, you'll have more fun or, as you keep saying, only victory is beautiful? Obviously, for the team, the challenge is always greater when you have an opponent. If that were the case, it would be like 2021, when every weekend we were very close and didn't know who would win in the end. There, to finish as winners, you had to be very close to perfection.

Q. Do you miss that fight? You know, I loved that season. Just as I loved 2022. If things repeat themselves, that’s the trouble!

Q. So how do you see 2024? Or rather, how do you hope to see it? I don't really care. I mean, I'm ready for anything!

Q. Even to bore us like Michael Schumacher or Hamilton did by dominating everything? You know that some people appreciate domination. If you look at other sports, you'll see that domination can be enjoyable. For me, it's fun to watch and follow because the team or the athlete shows the world that he or she is doing a better job than the the others.

Q. So you liked Hamilton's domination? This is different. I don't like being beaten and neither does my team. But you have to appreciate what he did, his consistency and the work he put in.

Q. Was it important to beat Hamilton on the track like Alonso wanted to do with Schumacher? I'm repeating myself, but the most important thing for me is to win. I want to win and win again. It's not a question of people, and I think it would be a mistake to focus on a driver and make it personal. I don't want to beat one driver, I want to beat them all.

Q. Is consistency what you were lacking? Just putting one thing out seems difficult to do. I've grown as a driver by improving everywhere, but it's true that a great champion is measured over a whole season. You never see them with an off day, and that's what I want to achieve. Of course, you can't be perfect, but what I want is to continue to perform consistently.

Q. And how do you go about achieving this? Experience is essential. And of course, the car. Just as much. That helps a lot.

Q. Since the departure of Daniel Ricciardo (at the end of 2018), none of your team-mates has been able to rise to your level. Do you have an explanation for this? First of all, I think I've improved, that I've become a better driver in all areas. After that, it's hard to find an explanation and, you know, I'm pretty focused on myself. I'm not very interested in what's going on elsewhere or in the garage next door. I just want to go faster.

Q. Sometimes looking at your teammate's telemetry can help… It can happen, but not often. But my work is focused on what I do.

Q. Are you interested in taking part in the search for the next Red Bull driver? Like, for example, having your pal Lando Norris with you?These are just rumors. And then, we have fun talking about it. Like a game. Lando is my friend but it's not my decision to make.

Q. And would you like to contribute to this decision? No (instantly). I wouldn't, even if I could.

Q. For your third title, you could be crowned in the sprint race in Qatar, which would be a first… (He interrupts.) Is it? I hadn't thought of that. Well, there won't be much to celebrate because there's a race on Sunday. And I'm still concentrating on that. Winning a GP is what counts for me. But I don't like to think ahead.

Q. Last question: you're about to join the exclusive club of three-time world champions (Brabham, Stewart, Lauda, Piquet, Senna). Which one do you think is closest to you? I have no idea. I'm Max Verstappen and I'm very happy to be.

Translated via DeepL and Google Translator

[misc-obeyme]

Hi CC!

I’m curious about how you feel about the Barbatos-insults-Solomon gag!

I thought it was really funny at first but now that it’s been almost a year since NB came out, I’ve kinda grown sick of it. It feels very prevalent in events and fan works.

As a Barbie babe and Solobestie your opinion is very important! *_*

Love you!💕

Hello dearest Ivy! I hope you're having a lovely evening! 💕

Ah okay, well, I kinda feel the same way about it, honestly.

Considering the fact that they are close friends in the OG, it really felt like a situation of a silly squabble from the start. And Barb was definitely doing it in his own Barbatos way, smiling while also calling Solomon stuff like a sham and so on.

But as the story progressed, Barbatos really got beyond just simple insults. After Solomon summoned him to the labyrinth, Barbatos was so angry he teleported Solomon far away. That's more than just petty squabbling between friends in my mind.

And that's why I had a hard time accepting the supposed reason for Barb's anger. Barbatos isn't exactly known for losing his shit. He's always the calm one, for the most part. And even when he does get upset, it's restrained. So it would have made sense to me if he was just coming up with creative insults. Kind of a passive aggressive thing, like ah yes the sham of a sorcerer that put me eighth on the list. I might've believed that.

But it's so constant and to the point where other characters notice and ask Solomon what he did to Barbatos. And also requiring MC to finally be like okay what is going on with you guys? And even after they supposedly talk it out, Barbatos is still upset with Solomon.

It's been such an unsatisfactory conclusion to the whole thing that I'm personally kinda over it?? It was funny at first because Barb is usually so mellow, to have him saying stuff like that was entertaining. But now I'm like okay can these two please kiss and make up for real?

Because I much prefer when they get along. The way they were in Season 3 of the OG was my favorite and I think it was their relationship with each other that made me love each of them more.

I just think if they're gonna have Barbatos continue to be mean to Solomon, they gotta give him a better reason for it. And if it was only ever meant to be a squabble between friends over something petty, then it should be resolved at this point.

I just want my favorite boys to get along again!

[roosterforme]

Is It Working For You? Part 15 | Rooster x Reader

Just in case you need to start at the beginning or visit an earlier chapter, check out my Masterlist!

Summary: As the mission you've been training for is about to begin, you let Bradley know how you feel.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst, fluff, some swears, adult banter

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Your seat in the Comanche transport was somehow even more uncomfortable than you had anticipated. You were smashed in between Cam and Admiral Simpson, both of whom had managed to fall asleep within minutes of takeoff. You'd only been in the air for an hour, and you were already pleading with your bladder not to let you down.

You knew Bradley, Phoenix and the others had taken off in their Super Hornets just after you had. This mission was so short and specialized, they needed to have you all hop aboard the carrier and then leave again, assuming everything went to plan. You promised your parents you would text them when you landed in Hawaii, just to check in quickly before turning your phone off completely. 

And now you were thinking about Bradley's Hawaiian shirts. And his face and his smile. And how great his face, smile and Hawaiian shirts would look on a beach in Hawaii. You briefly wondered if he'd ever been there for fun. Maybe you and he could take a vacation there someday. You were drifting off into a daze, thinking about all of the things he'd told you last night. Being together, missing each other... it had actually all sounded pretty ideal to you too. 

Maria, who was sitting across from you, was waving her hand to get your attention. She wiggled her eyebrows, winked and then shrugged. You took that to mean, How was last night?

You sighed and grinned, and then tilted your head and shrugged. She looked a little alarmed and mouthed to you, What happened?

Holding a full conversation without actually talking was a bit challenging, but if anyone could do it, it was the two of you. 

You formed your hands into the shape of a heart and held them up.

"You told him?!" she squealed.

"Shhh!" You tried to hush her, not wanting anyone else to hear. Then you shook your head. 

Maria's eyes lit up. He told you? she mouthed, miming a swoon. You shook your head again, but you were smiling. 

You hazarded a glance at everyone else, none of whom were both awake and paying attention to you. "No, but I know he does."

-------------------------------------

Bradley landed on the Naval airstrip in Hawaii just as the sun was coming up. His jet was very low on fuel, and this would just be a quick stop to refuel before continuing to the carrier. As he flew he only thought about two things; his desire to fly this mission, and the future he desperately wanted. He was trying his best to keep his mind clear, and every time he thought about you, he felt like he could do anything.

He climbed down from his Super Hornet, hoping to catch a glimpse of you on the airstrip. He even took out his phone and thought about texting you, but he needed to get himself used to not being around you for the next little bit. Which kind of sucked. Because the Hawaiian sunrise was beautiful, and he would have loved to watch it with you.

"Rooster!" Phoenix called as she walked toward him from the tower. "Want a coffee?" She handed him a disposable cup before he even answered her. He took a sip. It tasted terrible compared to that fancy French press shit you constantly made at your apartment. God, he already loved your cooking and your fancy coffees. 

"Thanks," he managed to tell Phoenix, taking another sip. 

"So what's going on? I haven't seen you since Friday night when you left the Hard Deck in a snit. I'm assuming you didn't blow things completely with your dream girl, because she looked pretty mellow when we left this morning, all things considered."

Bradley downed the rest of his coffee in one go. "Last night I told her in no uncertain terms that I want a future with her." He crumbled his coffee cup in his hand. 

"Whoa!" Phoenix exclaimed, sloshing coffee onto her boots. "Bradshaw, I never thought I would live to see this day! Holy shit!"

Bradley just smirked at her and put his aviators on as the sun rose higher. "Yeah, well, I guess we'll see what happens. I told her she didn't have to say anything yet; told her I didn't need an answer right now. This all moved really fast. I want her to be sure about me, you know?"

Phoenix just looked at him in awe. "You're like turning into a real adult, Rooster. One with emotional stability and shit."

"Yeah, I guess I am, Nat."

He couldn't help but think that his mom would have been very proud of him.

------------------------------------------

The USS Theodore Roosevelt was like a bustling city. It was your first time on this aircraft carrier, and you got to work as soon as you arrived. It would take about a day to set everything up and make sure all of the interfaces were working correctly for the Daggers mission. Different officers and crew members made their way in and out of the communications room, and you were lost in a sea of names as introductions were made. Thank goodness for name tags, because you really just wanted to focus on your work. 

All you could hear for the first few hours that you were setting up your computers was the clipped voice of Cyclone and the soothing tones of Warlock as they strategized with Maverick. It was impossible to keep track of time in a place that was always pretty dark and let in no natural light, but it must have been pretty late.  

"You've decided on your teams then?"  Cyclone asked Maverick. You were sitting on the floor near them testing your wiring. You looked up and met eyes with Maverick. You didn't know if you were supposed to like him or hate him, but since you were on Team Rooster, you gave him a guarded nod as you returned to your task. 

"Yes, I'm all set," Maverick responded after he gave you a brief smile. 

Cyclone nodded. "Let's make the announcement tomorrow morning. Then the following day we'll launch the mission. Let's get this over with and get out, the sooner the better."

You wondered if Bradley's name was in Maverick's mind. You wondered what Bradley was doing right now. You hadn't seen him once since you landed on the carrier, but you had seen the fighter jet with his name emblazoned on the side, so he had to be here somewhere. Bottom line, it had been less than twenty-four hours since you'd seen him, and you missed him terribly. You were itching to text him, but you knew he wouldn't have his phone turned on either.

Instead you worked tirelessly for hours, testing your computers and operating systems. Cam and Maria along with some of the engineering staff permanently deployed to this carrier helped get everything in order. Everything needed to be immaculate, and you made sure it was. You answered questions and helped some of the junior officer engineers troubleshoot issues. 

You barely made it to your bunk before you were falling asleep, but you were only afforded five hours before your alarms went off. You showered and got yourself dressed in a fresh uniform as quickly as you could, because soon you would at least get to see Bradley, if not actually talk to him. 

You tore through the labyrinth of hallways until you found the correct meeting room. You were the only one there besides Maverick and Fanboy, and you were embarrassingly out of breath as you tried to casually strut into the room like it was a completely normal day. "Good morning," you managed to say. Maverick nodded to you with a smile.

"Hey, Lieutenant Y/L/N," Fanboy said with his signature smile before lowering his voice a bit. "If you're looking for Rooster, I'm bunking with him. He was still showering when I left, but he should be here soon." 

"Thanks, Fanboy," you replied, looking down at your boots as you felt yourself blush. "And yes, for the record, I was looking for him."

"I could tell. And don't worry, he gets a really stupid look on his face too whenever anyone mentions you around him." Fanboy laughed as you gave him a patronizing look. "I think you two are cute together."

You just shook your head and walked away, watching the door for new arrivals. Maria and Cam arrived, eating protein bars and handing you one. Your hands were starting to shake, from hunger or nerves, you weren't exactly sure. With one minute to spare, Rooster walked in, his gait as confident and graceful as always. And when his smile hit you, all you could think about was kissing him and pulling him down on top of you, feeling his body weight pressing into you. God, you needed to know you'd be able to feel that again.

So when the announcements began, and the teams were about to be named, you felt increasingly torn inside. You hoped you would hear Bradley's name called; you knew how badly he wanted this. You knew it would help him get that promotion, the house, some stability. You knew what that meant for the pair of you. But a tiny part of you was begging and pleading with Maverick to call any other names. Not your Bradley. 

You tried to stand as still as possible, listen as much as you could. All you really heard was Payback and Fanboy and Phoenix and Bob as the selections for the Foxtrot teams. You saw the elation on Phoenix's face from across the room. She turned to Bradley and he winked at her, and now he was the one with the hopeful look on his face. 

Maverick took his time naming his selection for his wingman, but as soon as you heard him say Rooster, your heart soared at the same time your chin dropped toward your chest. You cautioned a look at Bradley, but his expression had remained neutral. After Cyclone made a few more announcements and doled out orders, everyone started to disperse, and the aviators congratulated each other. 

"Looks like your boy really is the best," Cam whispered to you. 

"I already knew that." You watched Bradley shake hands with everyone, and you figured it was okay for you to head into the mix and congratulate them as well.

Bradley caught your eye as you walked over with your right hand out. He shook it and held on way longer than was really appropriate as you said, "Congratulations, Rooster. Come back safely."

----------------------------------------

Bradley hadn't been sleeping well on the carrier. First of all, Fanboy snored, loudly. But mostly it was because he was already so used to the way your body felt pressed against him all night. You were like a beautiful heated blanket, and now he felt cold and uncomfortable. And he had to be up and ready to fly in the morning. 

He could not believe Maverick had chosen him as wingman over Hangman. He couldn't believe you had chosen him over Hangman either. Maybe he should start being a little nicer to Jake. Poor guy.

Jesus, now Fanboy was talking in his sleep. Bradley hopped out of his bunk and dug around in his bag for some earplugs. Everything he touched in the bag reminded him of you: his flight suit, black tee shirts, his dog tags. He thought about how good you looked when unzipping his flight suit and dropped to your knees in front of him. He pictured you wearing his black tees to bed. He thought about how he really wanted you to wear his dog tags around your bedroom. Just the dog tags, nothing else. 

Great, now he had to climb back into bed with a semi. At least the ear plugs were doing the trick. After a while, Bradley finally fell asleep and dreamed of you. 

When he woke the next morning, ate breakfast and started on his safety checks, he was feeling a lot better, a lot calmer. When the tower and communications room ran through their tests, he could occasionally hear your voice over the speakers out on the deck. When he checked the audio connection in his helmet, he heard you there too. He smiled every time. 

There was a lot of commotion as crew members ran about, setting up the catapults and arresting cables that would be used multiple times today as a part of this mission. It struck Bradley as crazy how many people were part of this operation, and he counted himself lucky that he had met you in the middle of it all.

When he saw Maverick starting on his own checks, Bradley made his way over toward him. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, knowing there was a lot he should say, a lot he actually found that he wanted to say, to Captain Mitchell. Maybe he secretly hoped there was a chance at some sort of friendship, or at least a ceasefire between them. At the very least, it would be nice to be able to have a decent conversation with the man who had loved both of his parents so much when they were alive. 

He hoped so. As he approached Maverick, the loud speakers alerted the aviators to the final procedures that needed to be started, and he barely got to say anything. But he and Maverick agreed that there would be time to talk afterwards, something that Bradley was more than okay with. Then Maverick looked him in the eye and told him, You've got this. And honestly, Bradley believed him.

-----------------------------------

Your eyes were glued to one of the monitors in the communications room. You were able to watch the aviators on deck, climbing into their aircrafts. Bradley's graceful movements as he climbed into his Super Hornet made you smile a bit, even though your nerves were already completely frayed. You'd never, ever felt this shaky on any other Top Gun missions you had been part of. You watched as crew members helped the pilots and weapons systems officers get settled into their cockpits. 

Suddenly your stomach lurched as you watched Maverick's jet being loaded into a catapult. You checked a different monitor and saw that Bradley's canopy was closing as he signaled to Hondo on deck. This was really happening. It was time. 

"Final communications check," Cyclone called over the soft conversations around you, and everyone immediately went silent.

That was your cue, but you honestly felt sick as you opened your mouth and barely managed to say, "Yes, sir."

You started with the Tower, pressing the controls in front of you and making sure they could hear everyone else who was linked up. "Communications to Tower, do you copy?"

"Loud and clear, Communications. We are a Go."

Then you checked in with Dagger Spare, Dagger One, Dagger Three and Dagger Four. After hearing back with perfect clarity from Hangman, Maverick, Phoenix and Payback, you pressed the controls one last time to check in with Bradley. You had saved him for last, because apparently you felt like torturing yourself as much as possible today.

Your voice was not quite steady as you said, "Dagger Two, this is Communications. Do you copy?"

Bradley replied immediately, that slightly raspy voice making your heart pound faster. "Copy that. I hear you loud and clear, Lieutenant Y/L/N." His voice sounded like he was smiling, and a small laugh startled out of you. You turned to check the monitor that gave you a view of him in his cockpit as they moved him to the second catapult. He was in fact smiling. 

His smile made your heart ache. His words echoed in your mind nonstop now. You're it for me, Baby Girl. 

You were so scared, but it was even scarier to not tell him how you felt. You knew everyone was listening. Literally a hundred people were included in this broadcast. And you knew all of these conversations were being recorded for safety and security. But you didn't really care. 

"Hey, Dagger Two?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Y/L/N?"

"I... I just wanted to say that, you know all that stuff that you said? Everything you told me? Before?"

Bradley paused, and you checked the monitor to see him nodding to himself before he said, "Yes. What about it, Lieutenant?"

From where they stood Warlock was giving you a weird look, and Cyclone was giving you the hand gesture for let's move things along.

You took a deep breath, your voice steadier now. "I know that you said you didn't need a guarantee, but I want to give you one. I want you to know that everything you said sounds exactly perfect to me. I want everything you want."

There was only a brief pause. "Copy that, Lieutenant. I heard you loud and clear," Bradley replied, and you saw on the screen that he had a huge smile on his face before he secured his mask over his mouth.

You barely had a moment to absorb Bradley's response before Cyclone was calling out the final commands and giving the signal to send the Daggers into the air, officially beginning their mission.

-----------------------

You finally said, something. Damn! Also, obviously there are some massive TGM spoilers here. And I hope I'm doing justice to the existing TGM plot for these chapters.

If you've been reading along this far, THANK YOU! I really appreciate you! Leave me some love, and I'll be wrapping this series up soon.... BUT, that's not all we're going to see from these two....

Check out Part 16

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[iknowshocker]

What do you think Kai would be like as a boyfriend if he had a genuine/healthy bond with someone?

For being one of the funniest characters in tvdu, I don’t think we ever even saw someone laugh at one of his jokes, so I’ve always been curious what it would’ve looked like if just one person matched his energy or at least accepted him

oh my goodness, i love this queeeestiooon!

let me just quickly out myself by saying if you lined up all the TVD men and told me to pick, kai would be my one and only choice. 🙈 my love for him horrifies my husband but i stand behind my witchy woo man 🫡

first thank you !! for saying he's funny !! you're right no one really appreciates his humor in the show and its one of the silliest choices imo. like you can admit the scary man has jokes, guys, it's not going to kill you. (oof sidenote but him and Jo having the same humor/picking on each other is one of my fav things!)

if he was out and about making his lil comments and someone started giggling a few seats down at the bar i truly think he'd combust. also probably be like "....me? you - you're looking at me? you think i'm funny ??? 😳 AnD CUte ?? really????" and then try immediately to be cooler about it but like, he's screaming crying throwing up inside

canonically we also know he liked it when bonnie matched the more aggressive/argumentative side of his personality, so i don't think he'd be able to be with someone that didn't pick at him a little. you gotta be able to tease him back but also like .. not take it too far cause he 100% can't take as much as he can give lmao (one older sibling to another we're a lot more sensitive than we pretend to be)

basically i think kai needs:

somebody grounded to keep him from totally flipping out

but who is also willing to fight for what they believe in

spontaneous and playful - but also thoughtful and mindful of his mood swings

kind enough to love him completely despite his past

and supportive enough to help him rebuild the coven

so...yeah, bonnie, basically lol

i think s6 kai at minimum needs to be with a witch that is willing to share power, and s8 kai needs a vampire or heretic. s6 kai could make it work with a human but pre-merge you're risking a lot, and then if you put s8 kai with a witch/human, he's turning them no questions asked so we better hope they're okay with it. (let's just leave legacies kai out of this, okay? he is a different breed)

i picture him being touch starved like you wouldn't believe, so super super clingy and probably jealous at least in the beginning of a relationship. that would go for friendship, too, honestly.

i think it would be really hard for him to a. wrap his head around someone picking him and then b. allow them to also pick other people. i don't think he'd throw a klaus sized tantrum, he'd be more petty about it: "oh sorry i just assumed you liked damon now since you said you liked his hair today and yEaH i was listening from three tables over watching the whole thing don't lie i SAW HOW YOU SMILED AT HIM-,"

but like he'd mellow with that as time went on and he starts to believe he can trust being loved. on that note i think he'd need a lot of reassurance but simultaneously be embarrassed/unsure of how to ask for it. some fights would happen as he works through how to regulate himself, but i don't picture it being a delena level of toxic. kai is more self aware/honest about himself so even when he's making poor choices he's like "woah hold on, why am i doing this ?? ah yes, that's why" and i think he'd get to a point where he knows his triggers and can help a partner figure out how to avoid them/talk through them.

so think like "my boy only breaks his favorite toys" vibes. he's so sure things are going to be taken from him/stuff can't be trusted that he'll mess it up first to hopefully make it hurt less. but with time a partner could help him see that he can have nice things !! love is real !! id love to see him build up the coven/a friend group/family with a partner beside him and just !! enjoy life lmao

anon you said boyfriend not husband but i hc he'd actually be an amazing dad. i would want him to end up having a siphon !!! end the coven curse of abuse bb 👏🏼 i have a post detailing what i would have done with the parker's that talks about him being a good uncle too!! i don't know i just think he'd be weirdly good with kids. so even if we're talking heretic!kai he'd be bringing kids/teens into the coven to help them and he's gonna need a partner that is down with that

no matter the stage of relationship he's super tactile. (mans has no context or care over some PDA being inappropriate). you're always sitting in his lap, or he's draped over you requesting that you play with his hair, he keeps his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, he wants you to play with his rings, ect. just always always always touching in some way even if it's small. it was something he missed out on for so much of his life and i think having someone actively want to touch him would never get old.

(sad note i picture this being a bit of a PTSD thing for him too. so certain things would make him flinch or jump and he might not even really be aware of it all the time. like he'll be tense as hell and his partner is like "honey what's happening ?? where have you gone ??" and he'd have to take a second and body scan before realizing oh shit Yeah, something is Wrong)

he's possessive as hell so expect hickys left where everyone can see AND a smug annoucment that he knows where you got them :) if we're talking s8 kai i imagine he would leave bite scars intentionally. so like heal them with magic but leave the little fang marks so other vamps know you're spoken for and he'd probably also have them on his wrist

i think a common hc is that he's Always the dominate one, but we all saw him in those chains, boy's totally a switch. (i also personally hc that 1994 kai is virgin!kai, but that's a story for another day). still tho i do think control is a big thing for him so he's definitely more comfortable being the one in charge. with trust comes wanting to mix things up tho so that's nice all around.

hands down the best boy to date during the holiday season are we kidding ??? any little thing you can possibly think of he's down and probably already has it planned:

apple orchard

carnival !!

christmas tree decorating

horror movie marathon !!

baking sugar cookies

snow ball fight

you're hosting the holiday parties now i hope you like cooking for a whole coven !!

like sep-feb you are Booked and Busy (i hc he's not much of a summer boy but that's okay if yall went back to portland west coast summers are built different, pls don't keep him in the south from mid june-mid august i fear he will melt)

if there's a downside i think it's how protective he would be. i think the mix of possessive/protective/clingy could be too much for some people but again i don't think it would last at such a high level forever. it's just elements of his personality that show up especially in high stakes situations, so they shouldn't be ignored.

but yeah anon, basically give the boy a chance and he's tripping over himself to be the best partner he can be 🤷🏼‍♀️

[explosionshark]

Thoughts on Faith and Dawn? They’re dynamic is so interesting to me

Talked a little bit about this one time (with input from @coraniaid)

It IS a really potentially interesting dynamic! There's so little of it on screen, which is a shame. What we do know:

-by s7 Dawn still (understandably!) resents Faith for trying to kill Buffy. She makes some protective comments about it. Actually I watched "Dirty Girls" last week and iirc she's the only one to call Faith out directly in that episode over that

-I think it's fair to extrapolate from what Dawn chooses to call out in that moment, that Faith's violence was never turned directly on her

-Despite this, Dawn does seem to warm up to Faith fairly quickly after she's back. They seem to be getting along in "Empty Spaces" and Dawn and the Potentials leap to Faith's defense when those crooked cops go after her at The Bronze. She essentially goes along with overthrowing Buffy and making Faith the leader in the confrontation that ensues (let's put aside the characterization choices for now and just focus on the fact that she is willing to allow Faith that level of authority)

-In early s3, all of Buffy's friends respond really positively to Faith showing up. I'm sure Dawn (young and impressionable) would be no exception. I talk a little about it in the post I link up there but it's really easy to imagine a situation where Dawn is really impressed by Faith in a way that her Baby Sisterness prevents her from manifesting towards Buffy. Especially since part of Faith's narrative role is to threaten Buffy's relationships in some way, I'm sure there was a bit of hero-worship to get Buffy feeling unexpectedly jealous.

So, there's tension between Buffy and Dawn in late season 7. Despite the initial shot Dawn takes at Faith over rejoining the team ("hotels that take Tried-to-kill-your-sister-types") she doesn't put up too much protest. Buffy at this point is being harsh and withdrawn from the team and her friends. Faith, meanwhile, is showing an interest in people, putting an effort into connecting to the girls, and generally being pretty mellow and non-judgemental. Aka, she's doing stuff that's pretty close to the classic big sister shit Dawn is no doubt missing.

Treating the girls (Dawn included) like people, learning things about them, crucially NOT being the woman cracking the whip that they're all pretty sick of, generally being more relaxed and less uptight, taking them to the Bronze and letting them underage drink instead of locking them in her busted ass living room and giving them speeches about how they're gonna die soon - yeah! Okay! You can really see how Faith becomes super popular just by being a little more chilled out and not being Buffy.

Given Dawn's comments earlier in the season (teasing but still) about feeling smothered by Buffy sometimes, I think there's something interesting in how Dawn seems to respond so much from being treated like someone mature, a little more hands off, but still with positive attention - it's easy to work back from there and imagine what kind of relationship she had with Faith in earlier seasons, why it worked, and why it hurt so bad when Faith betrayed them anyway.

Dawn and Faith have an interesting overlap in being used at various times to thematically represent different sides of Buffy. They're almost polar opposites that way - Dawn being Buffy's childhood, her innocence, Faith being her dark side - so to me there's always going to be something inherently interesting in the ways they relate to each other.

In conclusion: damn dude I really wish they had more scenes together idk

[sergeantgoggles]

Jesse/Kix Burnt umber

I'm such a sucker for Jessix.

Burnt Umber: (How long until the say ‘I love you’ for the first time?)

Some things came naturally to Jesse two years into the war. For example, the steadiness of hand to hold a blaster at a moving target, or finding a way to make his squad smile, those were easy things to him.

The same could be said for the moment that tonight seemed to hang in. It was quiet on the Resolute with little but the thrum of the ship filling their bunkroom, but it was peaceful, not like the quiet that came after heavy losses or when morale was down. There was no urgency to have sex while they could, no raucous laughter that could be heard down the hall, only the music that came from Hardcase’s little radio filled the space. Another time, Echo would tell him to turn it off, that he was disturbing his reading, but tonight he read without complaint with a relaxed turn of his lips as he laid his head in Fives’ lap.

Tup had roped Dogma into a card game on his top bunk, and even Rex was taking refuge in the peace in Hardcase’s bunk as he cleaned his deecees meticulously. The chatter was mostly from the boys on the top bunk, but every so often, Jesse heard Echo ask Fives if he’d heard about something he was reading about, and then proceed to tell him all about it. Fives always listened though, even if he teased his partner about how absorbed he got in his reading. Or he would hear a soft groan from Rex as Hardcase uttered what was no doubt another bad joke from their time as cadets. It was nice to see the two of them relaxing together. It was rare that Rex had any time to himself, much less time to spend with his partner.

“You’re quiet,” Kix said from wear his head was laying on Jesse’s chest.

And then there was Kix, curled up on top of him, blanket draped over them, content to simply listen to the chatter, to hear Jesse’s heart beating against the shell of his ear. A smile tugged on his lips as Jesse’s fingers idly traced the lines shaved into his hair.

“Just enjoying the company,” Jesse replied.

Kix hummed, seemingly content with his answer. His eyes slipped shut, and a blissful smile graced his lips as he spoke. “I wish we could stay in this moment forever.”

It was a quiet confession, meant for only Jesse to hear, and a bittersweetness washed over him. Tomorrow was never a guarantee in war. No one knew that better than Kix, who always fought for a tomorrow for every single one of the men that came into his medbay, or fell on the battlefield, but forever was a nice notion to think about, even if it was something that Jesse couldn’t promise.

There was something, however, that Jesse could promise him because it was easy. It felt natural.

“I love you,” he murmured.

Kix picked his head up, eyes shining in the dimly lit bunkroom. His feet shifted under the blanket, kicking idly as though he were trying to contain the excitement that was threatening to burst from his body. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jesse smiled and brushed his thumb over Kix’s cheek. “I can’t promise tomorrow, but I can promise that I’ll love you forever.”

The sudden shift in movement was loud in the otherwise mellow atmosphere, and it drew everyone’s attention when their lips collided. A few whistles and an endearing coo from Hardcase, (something like, ‘you don’t say those kinds of things to me anymore’ to Rex in a teasing tone) echoed in the room as they kissed slowly and deliberately.

“I’ll love you forever, Jess,” Kix whispered, and this time it really was only loud enough for Jesse to hear, “I promise.”