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teaboot · 1 year

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Yo I haven't done it in forever so I forgot that working at a sex shop gives you superpowers

1. The We-Vibe Tango is a low frequency and fully waterproof rechargeable bullet vibrator that we used to sell for about $150. A new model came out about a year ago so it's on sale now online for $47. Can confirm that shipping is discreet and they have a really good warranty, just keep the packaging.

*(I'm not sponsored to say that and nobody is paying me rn, it's just a legit good deal.)

2. There are essentially three bases used for lube: Water, Oil, and Silicone. Oil breaks down any materials other than glass or metal, and Silicone breaks down Silicone toys and sometimes condoms. Water is safe for everything but tends to dry out, so people don't like it- but if you add water or spit, drying water-based lube will slick right back up.

3. If your water-based lube has given you any itching, tightening, or burning sensations, you probably have a chemical sensitivity. Obviously everyone has different preferences, but my number one recommendation is Water Slide- it's a super reasonable price compared to other lubes, it feels natural, it's incredibly gentle on the skin, and it doesn't stain sheets.

**(Again, I'm not being paid for this. By anyone. At all. I'm just sick of hearing people come in and tell me they don't use lube cause it hurts, or that they're using fucking coconut oil in their vagina. Please, God, don't put coconut oil in your vagina.)

4. A lot of massage oils use almond oil to suspend other ingredients, and warming products sometimes use cinnamon. Always, always, always check people's allergies.

5. You can buy toys off cheap sites if you want, just be wary of quality and ALWAYS read the product description. I personally wouldn't buy anything that isn't Silicone, stainless steel, or glass, because unlike jelly, plastic, "fantaflesh", and Silicon, (which is NOT Silicone!!!) They are non-porous, sterile, and don't melt in contact with each other. This means that as long as you clean them properly and don't use the wrong lubes, they will not hold bacteria or break down, which makes them safe for both you to reuse and your partner/s to share. (And to switch between front door/back door, so long as you wash before going back to front.)

6. Cotton and polyester bondage rope are cheap and great to practice with. Silk sounds fancy and is very strong but be advised that a lot of silk rope is "Silk(TM)", not actual silk. Read the product description. (I personally am reluctant to spend more than about $2 per foot for mass-produced synthetic rope, but could be persuaded to pay more for ACTUAL silk, nylon, handmade ropes, or especially attractive colors/patterns/textures.) You want your rope to be at least as thick as your thumb and layered to avoid lacerations, and taut (not stretchy) to be sure you're in control of how much pressure you're putting on.

7. Choking someone by pressing on the windpipe is painful and inefficient. If you want to, stay very, very light, as it's a very delicate area. If you want a head rush, press down on the sides of the windpipe, just below the corners of their lower jaw. You will feel a pulse there. That's the carotid artery. It carries oxygen to the brain. Pressing there will allow them to breathe, but will still "choke" the air going to their head. It's faster and painless. Only hold this for 3-4 seconds if you lack experience. It takes just under 15 seconds to make someone pass out from a blood choke, and after that you risk causing *permanent brain damage*. If your partner passes out, release pressure immediately and keep their airways clear. If you're the one being choked, know that your only warning will be spotty vision and a dizzy sensation. Communicate with your partner/s and for the love of God, do your research first. I'm not a doctor. Please God, please do your research.

8. Don't reduce blood flow to any part of the body for more than 20 minutes. This includes cock rings. Take a break for an hour between uses.

9. Most 'dick pills' are just a stimulant, a mild vasodilator, and a placebo. Usually mostly caffeine. They are not worth $20 apiece. Take a minute to meditate, have a hot shower, drink some black tea, have a coffee, go for a run, whatever- you'll get the same effect. And no, there is not a single ethical and legal sex shop in the country that can sell you viagra. You would have better luck on Facebook. Do not buy viagra on Facebook.

10. There are no "male toys" and "female toys". Your only limitations are safety and creativity. If youre sticking something into something else, just make sure everything is clean, not too big, not sharp or abrasive, and can be taken back out.

11. If something "goes missing" in your vagina and you panic, you muscles will tense up and it'll it'll harder to get back. Relax and stand up. Wait a minute. Chill. Calm down. Jump a couple times. There's nowhere for it to go and worst case scenario, I promise the emergency walk-in has seen something weirder or worse in the past hour or so.

12. You cannot return toys that you buy and don't like and I swear to God if you come into my store with an opened product and try to give it back I will lose my shit

13. Actually while I'm at it, people who work at sex shops are more often than not not sex workers and even if they were, it would still not be appropriate to flash or grope them or ask them "what they use", I will run you over in the fucking parking lot

#Sex education #Information #Body health #Not for work #Yes I will take questions please ask questions just let me know if u wanna be anon in the response

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runningfrom2am · 10 months

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leveling the playing field X

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: hi all!! i have some slightly annoying news (I'm so sorry) but i think i have to close my taglist for this fic and for other coryo stuff (which i am working on bc I've seen the requests!!) bc its gone up almost 150 people and i can only tag 50 people per post and it is SO much work to tag everyone individually even after i paste them in and i don't want to have to reblog it 2 or 3 times to tag everyone :(. I'm so sorry like i said ik its annoying but if you'd like to be the first to know ab new parts and you're not already in my taglist, feel free to turn on my post notifs!! that way you'll also see everything else including my asks ab the fic where i answer more questions and we talk theories and all that fun stuff :)

next part

Coriolanus was having a hard time adjusting to the life of a peacekeeper, but he was getting there. He sent off that letter for you almost as soon as he arrived, but was yet to receive a response so that seemed like an answer enough. He had to forget you, especially if he wasn't going back to the Capitol anytime soon.

He was homesick, to say the very least. Both of his bunkmates were out, likely working, but he didn't care much to know exactly where. He was just relieved to have a moment to himself to wallow in his self-pity, chest constricting tighter and tighter with every breath.

A door slammed shut down the hall, followed quickly by his own door opening- at which he held his breath. He had to get it together.

"Is this bunk taken?" Someone asks, a voice not belonging to either of his bunkmates, but he recognizes it nonetheless.

He shot up straight, taking in the appearance of the boy in front of him. "Sejanus!" He had never been happier to see his classmate, hopping out of his top bunk to quickly give him a hug.

"This is a surprisingly warm welcome for someone who almost got you killed." Sejanus chuckled, hugging him back.

Coryo laughs slightly, pulling away and grabbing his shoulders. "Oh, no. Quite the opposite. What are you doing here?"

"About the same as you." He shrugs, sliding his things under the bed below Coryo's. "They were going to expel me, but my dad paid them for my grad certificate and let them send me here. They got a new gym on the condition that they let us both graduate."

Coryo should be relieved, but a graduation certificate doesn't matter much if he's stuck here for the next twenty years. "And Y/N/N?" He asks.

"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, lifting his head back in confusion. "What about her?"

"Did she graduate too?"

"I... I don't know, I didn't know she was in trouble. We were told she was sick."

Coriolanus's stomach drops. That's a story he'd certainly heard before, and he didn't like at all how that ended. He swallows, nodding a little bit as he looks at the floor. "So you didn't see her at all?"

"No... Not since the last time I saw you." Sejanus states. It had been a few weeks now. "But, her mother came to our door a week or so ago, real early in the morning. Ma shooed me away but I heard them talking, it seemed like she didn't know where Y/N was either. She was looking for her, wondering if any of us had seen her."

Again, this is what Coryo had seen before with what happened to Clemensia. Her parents weren't allowed to see her at all while she was in the hospital. "I think she's dead." He admits.

"What? What makes you say that?" His friend gasps.

"I... I heard her screaming when I left our meeting with Highbottom." Coriolanus explains. "At first it was normal Y/N screaming, you know, but then it got worse and worse until it just... stopped." He hoped Sejanus would change his story, that he would remember seeing you at school or on the streets or at one of your parent's obnoxious parties, having a good time, and being yourself. That maybe he had just forgotten, but the look on Sejanus's face tells him that didn't happen.

It was Sejanus's turn to look down now, giving a solemn nod. "I mean, no." He laughs suddenly, shaking his head. "They wouldn't kill her on campus- if you could hear it, she's not dead. They wouldn't kill her just like that, right?" He says, trying to convince himself of that truth. "Surely she's just sick. Maybe grounded, or something."

"Yeah, yeah. Probably..." Coriolanus concedes, hoping that somehow Sejanus was right.

Simultaneously, you were adjusting beautifully to life in District Twelve. You got in the habit of borrowing Lucy Gray and Barb Azure's clothes, and they let you sleep on the floor between their beds. For the first time in your life, you were free. No one knew you, no one had a single expectation of you besides Tam Amber appreciating your help with the goats and occasionally going to the market with Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory to get food. It was refreshing, to say the very least. Everyday you felt yourself unwinding more and more.

"Do you play any instruments, Y/N?" Maude Ivory asks you, skipping to catch up to you as you hike down a trail out to the lake with the rest of the covey.

"I do, actually." You nod at her, a small smile on your face. "Try three."

"Three!" She claps excitedly. "What do you play? You'll have to perform with us! Do they have different instruments where you're from?"

"Not really." You giggle, putting your hands in the pockets of your bright red skirt. "I play the piano, and the violin, which is just like Clerk Carmine's fiddle, but much more boring, and a harp, if you've ever heard of that."

"You play the fiddle?" The young girl smiles.

"Not like he does." You smile at the boy as he walks ahead of you, not paying any attention.

"I'm sure you're just as well." Lucy Gray interjects, bumping her shoulder with yours as she walks next to you. "Maude Ivory, you should hear her projection. I'm yet to hear her sing, but boy, can she yell."

"I can't sing." You laugh, shaking your head. "Back home you don't sing unless you're training for the opera, and you have to start that around the same time you learn to walk. My parents would rather me learn the piano."

"Then why am I the one yellin' at all our shows? You should step up." Maude Ivory giggles, and you just shake your head, ruffling her hair.

"I definitely couldn't do it nearly as well as you." You insist. "Besides, I have stage fright." You joke, mostly to get her off your back.

She laughs as she fixes her hair, running to catch up with the kids in front of her.

"She just adores you." Lucy Gray smiles. "It's nice to have a new face around."

You smile, watching Maude Ivory collect flowers from the side of the road. "She reminds me of my brother. They're about the same age."

"Right, you lent me his guitar." Lucy Gray says, a particular sadness in her tone tipping you off that she believes you should be upset about leaving him. You miss him, sure, but he's better off now with you gone. Besides, he couldn't be any worse than you. Your parents have always doted over him, and there's no doubt in your mind that now that you are gone, it's multiplied.

"Yes. That's him." You reply, accompanying a moment of silence between the two of you.

"Do you miss him?"

"Sure." You nod, kicking a small stone down the path in front of you. "But he's better off without me there. That brings me enough peace to sleep at night."

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." You smile at her, grateful for the change of topic.

"What happened to Coriolanus?" For the first time in weeks, you feel a pinch of discontent in your gut at her question.

"I don't know." You lie, shrugging your shoulders. You don't even know why you felt the urge to lie at all, you knew he was here somewhere but you hadn't seen him once. Out of sight, out of mind is what you have been trying to convince yourself. "He's alive, I'm sure. Peacekeeping in one of the districts probably."

"Oh, I was hoping you would know more."

"It would be nice." You agree. "But he's not exactly in my good graces at the moment."

"It feels so out of character for him to betray you like that, doesn't it?" Lucy Gray asks.

You laugh, shaking your head. "It was unusual. That's what I thought, anyway." You sigh, giving a slight shrug. "I haven't told anyone, but we had... I don't know, a moment, a few weeks ago. During the games. Just a couple of days later and he's throwing me under the bus like I meant nothing to him. We've been friends for years- I thought everything was about to change for the better, and then..."

"That's cruel." She says disapprovingly. "I bet he's sorry now that you're gone with the wind. He's regretting it. I promise you that much."

You smile slightly at the thought, allowing yourself to entertain it, if only for a moment. "He better be."

"Is that for me? Oh, c'mon y'all, you know that I gave up drinkin' when I was twelve..." Lucy Gray says, taking a sip out of the clear liquor bottle someone in the audience handed to her. "Oh, It's to clear my pipes, just to clear my pipes." She clarifies, tossing the bottle back into the audience.

Coriolanus watches leaning against the side wall of The Hob. He's happy to see that Lucy Gray is back to doing what she loved, and she made it home alive and well. He's also more than pleased to finally get off the barracks for something other than work. "Now, who's ready for a song, huh?" She smiles, looking down off the stage to her right. "Okay, comin' right up. First, I'd like to introduce to the stage with a big welcome, a grand ole friend of mine, The lovely Sage!" She says, giggling at her rhyme as another girl climbs up on stage, giving Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray a quick hug each.

Coriolanus looks away as the crowd cheers, scanning the crowd for Sejanus who had just excused himself to grab a drink a couple minutes ago. He's wondering where his roommate could have disappeared to when Lucy Gray's friend starts speaking.

"Well hello, everyone, so lovely to meet you all! I have never felt so welcome anywhere." His head snaps back to the stage. He'd know that Capitol accent anywhere, even as you pause to allow any cheers to quiet down. "I mean that." You grin, hands clutched to your chest. "And that feels so good, considering Lucy Gray all but forced me up here." You laugh, draping an arm over her shoulder, letting her take back over. How could this be real? Coryo is tempted to rub his eyes or pinch himself to make sure he's even awake. He was so sure you were dead, but despite the different name and completely different clothes, he was positive it was you. The pang in his chest made that obvious, along with the wave of surrealism that suddenly surrounded him so all he could see was you.

"Now, my beautiful girl Sage here will be taking over for our friend on the fiddle, we'll give the band a quick break, and we're gonna have a bit of a change of pace while she's lending us her talents." Lucy Gray says, and Coriolanus watches as you take the beat-up violin from the young boy gratefully. He knew you played, but he hadn't heard it for years. You looked so calm, something he wasn't sure he had seen in public since you were young. He can't pull his eyes from your figure as it graces the stage with your presence, lighting up the room even if it was only for him.

A small smile grows on his face as you start to play, several whistles echoing through the room before Lucy Gray even joins in with her singing. He wants to scream, to cheer and clap and yell and tell everyone in this dark, rundown building that this 'Sage' was his. Inarguably and undoubtedly his. Coryo's pride is only curtailed when he recognizes the song; it was the ballad Lucy Gray played in her interview on your brother's guitar.

The sophistication your violin playing brought to the piece almost made it sadder and infinitely more haunting. It's beautiful. Now with your classical touch, the song sets a pit of guilt in his stomach. That somehow, even without you singing, it's now a ballad from you to him.

"Just let me remind you what I am to you..."

He makes eye contact with Lucy Gray as he shifts his gaze away from you. She pauses for only a moment, hands still moving rhythmically over the strings of her guitar. She smiles and nods at him, jaw slightly agape as she glances back at you to see if you noticed him. When it's clear you haven't, she gets back on track with the words within only a moment.

"'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. I am the one who knows how you were brave..." Your lips turn up in a small smile as she sings, eyes still shut while you focus. Even though he's sure you're thinking of him, it doesn't bring him much consolation. Well, at least you were thinking of him. He would take it.

The song ends as quickly as it starts, and despite the slower tone, the audience is still excited. More so as the band returns to the stage and you return the violin to Clerk Carmine before turning back around to give a bow. You wave out to the audience, reveling in the whistles and praise before reaching out for an extended hand, accepting it as its owner helps you down. "That was stunnin', where'd you learn to play like that? I've never heard anything quite like it." The man asks, still holding your hand out in between you.

"Oh, thank you. I've been playing my whole life." You grin as the music picks up again.

"Can you dance like you can play?" He asks, lifting your arm to spin you.

"I can certainly try." You laugh, going along with it as he pulls you into a more open space of the crowd, and to Coriolanus, it seems like you're taunting him. You're dancing like you don't have a care in the world, dressed in a skirt that looked like it was made out of a red bed sheet cut up and stitched back together in half-hazard squares, and what looked like one of your t-shirts cut up into a tank top that exposes most of your stomach and back. Appallingly too, a smile present on your face that he had dreamt of seeing again one day but was certain he never would. The only problem is that you're dancing with someone else. Not that he was much of a dancer, but he could try if he had known that's what you wanted.

He's planning his method of attack. He can't leave without speaking to you, because he doesn't even know if you'll be back here the next time he gets a day off. Though, based on your appearance and newfound carelessness, it's likely.

His urge is just to kiss you, but the only thing holding him back is that it could set you off. If you hadn't heard his apology from miles away, would you still be angry at him? But actions speak louder than words. He knows that physicality works with you, and it was hard to deny that he hadn't dreamt of how soft your lips felt on his for weeks. One time was just simply not enough for Coryo.

Coriolanus scowls as the man you're dancing with spins you again, making you laugh as he drapes an arm around your waist.

Maybe he should get Sejanus, see if he's seen you yet.

Another spin, and a hand sliding lower down your bare back as the man pulls you closer, his fingers landing on the waistband of your skirt. When was the last time that scumbag had so much as washed his hands? Coryo wonders to himself, rage boiling up under his skin.

Kiss her. Definitely kiss her.

But if the song choice was any indicator, you definitely weren't pleased with him. It couldn't be, though, because how would you know he would be in attendance? Coryo finds his feet carrying him through the crowd, pushing past a dozen carelessly drunk people in his effort to get to you before he's even thought it all through.

Your brow furrows as a body forces itself between you and your dancing partner. "Hey! What are you-" You cut yourself off, hypnotized by the cold blue eyes staring down at you.

That's my girl. Even though you're angry, Coriolanus is grateful to be the object of your gaze once more.

"'Scuse me, man, do you mind?" The man says, making an effort to push Coryo away. He turns, and before you can intervene he's swinging his fist right at the other guy's face, finding its target in a fraction of a second.

He stumbles back, grabbing his face as it immediately drips blood from his nose onto the floor. There are gasps in the crowd as it disperses around you.

"Hey, settle down, settle down now." You hear Lucy Gray call out amidst the music playing in the background while you grab the back of Coryo's shirt, pulling him back before he continues to beat up your dancing partner.

"Coriolanus, what are you doing here?" You shout over the music. He shakes out his fist, turning back to you now and grabbing your face, pulling you closer to kiss you instead of dignifying you with a response. His actions would certainly speak louder.

You want to be angry, but that falters as you feel his lips on yours again, his hands planted firmly on either side of your waist as he holds onto you so tight you weren't sure breathing was an option- even if you could. You followed him here, of course you wanted to see him, but how could he betray you so easily and expect forgiveness in a kiss?

It takes you longer than it probably should to build up the courage to place your hands on his chest, shoving him back. "What is wrong with you?" You spit, looking him up and down in the blue uniform signified of a peacekeeper off duty.

"What's wrong with me?" He asks, looking around and gauging how many people were even taking notice. "What do you mean, Y/N/N, I wanted to-" Clearly you hadn't heard his silent apology, or it just wasn't enough.

"Hey!" You hiss, jumping at him and attempting to cover his mouth at the use of your nickname, and he quickly swats away your hand. "Let's go. Outside, now." You shove him back by his chest, pointing towards the exit.

You look up at Lucy Gray on stage, still singing as she watches you nervously. You give her a nod and a small reassuring smile before linking arms with Coryo and guiding him toward the door. Just like old times.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world @nan-nie, @shakespearseclipse, @iovemoonyy, @notyoursweetheart-honey, @xyzstar, @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland, @queenofshinigamis, @elodiebeau, @soulessjourney

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just cant tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #thg series #coryo snow

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sugarspicenights · 2 years

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Angel Voices - Vash x Reader

4.1k words / minors DNI / takes place in trigun '98 canon

CW: reader has breasts, wears a bra, and has a vagina/vulva/clit, but no specific use of pronouns in fic (though one mention of "goddess"), no mention of skin color, hair color or texture. Both reader and Vash are written with the mindset of bisexual switches.

Use of nicknames like baby and good boy, mentions and descriptions of Vash's scars, oral (m on f + f on m), 69, f squirting on m's face, discussion of contraceptive method, piv sex (sitting with f on top, cowgirl, and missionary), monsterfucking (since Vash is a sentient plant; discussion of plant sex differences and weird plant cum), overstimulation, cum eating (only a little), brief aftercare (as there might be a fic part 2)

AN: Thank you to everyone for waiting on this! I wrote this with so much love for the original source material and I hope it captures the slightly goofy spirit of the Trigun 98 dub, both for Vash and reader 💖

Morning again…

Slowly waking, you scrunch up your face, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. From behind, you can hear soft, even breaths and feel a warm hand around your waist.

We must have fallen asleep after the mission…

Closing your eyes, you take in the sensation of Vash’s body around you: his left arm slung around your waist, fingers tucked slightly under your shirt and legs tangled between yours.

You had only meant to talk for bit and process the day’s adventure, but even one beer and leftover donuts from the morning was enough to relax Vash and make him realize just how much energy he had used up.

He was staying at a hotel down the road, so you offered to let him rest a minute before heading back. He had obliged, slipping his jacket off and removing his metal prosthesis, showing you just how much he trusted you.

When you had sat down next to him, petting his hair as he relaxed, you must have fallen asleep too, lulled by the repetitive motion and gentle hums from Vash. You were supposed to wake him up, but instead you were laying next to him, the closest you’d ever been to the man you had a huge crush on.

He really should have been able to figure it by now…

For all his “reputation” as a womanizer, besides some harmless flirting, you had never witnessed Vash make a move on anyone. He seemed to prefer the company of drinking buddies or a bag of fresh donuts more than a night with a woman.

You knew why, though.

Beneath the handsome and charming outer surface, Vash the Stampede kept a secret perfectly contained. You’d never guess it by a glance, but he was pushing 150 years old, and hidden under layers of crimson leather and cloth were relics of his past—scars, surgeries, repairs, and metal prosthetics.

With a flashy enough jacket, no one usually asked questions about what was underneath.

You hadn’t seen them for yourself more than a quick glance when Vash stretched and his shirt rode up, but you had heard about the extent of his injuries from Meryl and Milly.

The insurance girls had become your friends quickly, often hanging out together and commiserating over how much trouble you all got into around Vash and Wolfwood.

You didn’t mind the adventures. Sure, danger followed you at every step, but you always seemed to come out alright—Vash and Nick always found a way to turn things around.

Which is how you ended up here, snuggled in the arms of the infamous gunslinger, the humanoid typhoon, and the man currently pressed up against your back, half-hard and sleepy, holding onto you like a touch-starved lover.

You knew if Vash woke up right now he would apologize furiously and move away from you instantly, but you didn’t want him to leave.

You wanted to go further—spend the morning in bed and explore…

You don't know how to cross that emotional barrier yet, but have time to think, cheeks burning as Vash’s fingers ghost over your stomach, almost dipping below your underwear waistband. Sucking in a breath, sensitive, you move your hips slowly, closing your eyes and waiting for Vash to wake up.

Only he doesn't.

He lets out a few breathy moans in his sleep, holding onto you tighter and nuzzling into your shoulder. You lay there, blushing, feeling Vash’s cock swelling into your back and starting to pant softly. You're already so wet without being touched, but don't feel comfortable going any further without consent.

Fuck, this was going to be awkward.

“Vash?”

He only stirs slightly, still lost in his sleepy haze.

“Vash, wake up.”

“Hmmmm??”

You needed only wait a moment before Vash’s hand promptly flies away with an embarrassed “WHAAAAYAGHHHH!!!” and the string of apologies comes as expected.

Instead of accepting them, however, you shove Vash back down onto the pillows and climb onto his hips, raising a finger to talk to him.

“Stop that!!!”

He immediately shuts up, cheeks still flushed, and stares up at you, dumbfounded.

“I like you, Vash.” You go right to the point, bluntly, so he has no excuses. “I like you romantically… sexually… and I don’t want your apologies!!!! I want you to stay.”

Vash’s mouth pops open, looking you over to see if you're really telling the truth, then asks sheepishly, “Why didn’t you say anything before???”

Frowning, you remain in your position, looking down at the gunman. “Do you know how hard it is to get a moment with you alone??? I appreciate the gentleman act and all, but it makes it hard to get to know each other.”

Turning his gaze away, Vash mumbles out, “Maybe you don’t want to know the real me.”

Reaching down to take his face in your hands, you gently turn his head back toward you. “Look, this doesn’t have to be anything permanent. But I don’t want to waste the time I have with you. You’re constantly getting into trouble and I never know if I’m even going to see you tomorrow.”

His brows furrow, but gaze softens towards you. “The life of an outlaw isn’t a safe one. Danger and destruction follows me everywhere I go. And I don’t want you to be collateral.”

Reaching for his hand, you lace your fingers between his, squeezing tight. “I don’t know what today holds, but you’re here with me now.”

Vash looks like he’s tearing up, having resigned himself to a life of loneliness long ago. “Do you really want me?”

You break into a grin, all the anxiety you had felt lifting away. “I do. All of you.”

“I…” He starts, then hesitates, swallowing nervously. “I’m not all that pretty. My face maybe, but. I’ve been around a long time, you understand? And fought so many battles…”

You nod, dragging your hand out of his grip and settling both of palms on his stomach. “I understand. Meryl and Milly told me a little about your past… But I don’t care about that. I care about you. However you are.”

“Ah, shucks.” He laughs, carefully putting his hand on your waist. “You’re gonna make me blush~”

“I believe I’ve already done that this morning, Mr. Stampede~”

He grins, his playfulness finally returning. “Please, not my full name!! It’s just Vash to you.”

“Vash.” You say his name out loud once more, uttering it with reverence and adoration.

“My Vash.”

His gaze meets yours, tracking down to your lips, then back up. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, licking your lips unconsciously, then lean forward, setting your fingertips under Vash’s jaw and tilting your head. He meets your lips with his own, gripping your hip tightly as he whimpers into your mouth.

It had been far too long since he had been this close with anyone and your touch was electrifying.

Pulling back for a moment, though still desperate, Vash gets out between soft pecks, “Wait, wait. Lemme get my arm. Go to the bathroom. Wanna do this right.”

You sigh, sitting up. “Alright, hang on.”

Climbing off of him, you stand up and ask him to wait, then go to pick up his arm, making a little “oof!” sound as you return, struggling slightly with the metal’s weight.

Presenting the device to him, you watch as he aligns the locking mechanism, wrinkling up his nose as his arm reattaches, and letting out a sigh of relief out when he can finally move his arm again.

“I don’t usually take it off since it hurts to reattach, but my shoulder was aching so bad last night, I needed a break.”

You tilt your head, eyes traveling to his shoulders. “Do you need me to look at your shoulder? Did you get hurt?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll check it in the bathroom. Be right back.”

As soon as the door closes, you run to your drawers to look for lingerie, digging until you find a red bra, the same shade as his jacket, and a clean pair of bottoms. Shoving them into a cloth bag, you wait impatiently to swap places so you can surprise him.

Soon, Vash peeks out, hiding slightly with his clothes slung over his arm. He’s shirtless now with just boxers on, his scars fully on display. You walk over to him, kissing his upper arm and glancing up. “I’ll be right back. There’s water and snacks if you’re hungry.”

“Mhm.” Vash smiles, ruffling your hair affectionately. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Vash has half a pudding eaten when you finally return, dropping his spoon and his jaw when he sees you step out of the bathroom.

“You all good?” Clasping your hands in front of your stomach, you sway slightly, watching as Vash sets the pudding aside and rushes toward you, getting on his knees.

“You're the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in the whole galaxy…”

“That’s not possible, there are objectively prettier things than me. Like… the Horsehead Nebula.”

Vash laughs, still on the ground. “Nerd.”

Reaching out a hand to pat his hair, you drag your fingertips over his scalp, grinning down at him. “Dweeb.”

Grabbing the backs of both your thighs, Vash pulls closer as you shiver at the cold metal on your skin, a slight damp patch already forming on your panties. Mouthing over the cotton fabric, Vash inhales deeply, drunk on the smell of you. You look down, embarrassed, pushing his head away. “Vash…”

“Sorry, was that too much?”

“You don’t waste any time, huh? Is it possible you’re really a ‘ladykiller’ like the legends say?~”

“Mmmh.” Vash raises his eyebrows, squeezing your thighs and making you squirm. “No more talking.”

Tucking his fingers into your waistband, he yanks the material down and lets you step out, tossing the garment to an unknown corner of the room. The air in the room is sticky with the desert heat, but Vash’s hands on you are making you sweat even more, starting to pant hard as he ghosts his breath over your now-bare pussy.

He’s maddening, teasing you without giving you what you want, making you only imagine what his tongue feels like.

Instead of kissing your clit, he moves to your thighs, kissing and sucking faint hickeys into your skin. He can’t contain his own pleasure, moaning softly as he leaves gentle bites, making you jump and suck in a sharp breath as he moves closer and closer to your dripping cunt.

Grabbing his hair, you desperately pull him up onto you and he makes a surprised “mmpf!” as his nose bumps your clit. Your cheeks flush even deeper, finally feeling Vash’s tongue dart out and collect your slick, sucking messily as he traces his tongue over your folds.

When he’s teased you enough, he pauses a moment, looking up at you with sparkling eyes, pussy-drunk, then dives back down, finally wrapping his soft lips around your clit.

“Nnnnh!!!”

Bracing yourself against the hotel wall, you bring a hand to your mouth to stifle your moans, remembering there are other guests just across the wall. Hissing out a, “Vash!” you point to the bed, knees buckling slightly as he rubs his thumb over your clit and gives you a false-innocent questioning look.

“Need something?~”

“Can we—“ Interrupting yourself with another high-pitched moan, you try again, voice wavering. “Bed. Please?”

“Well since you said please and all~”

Wiping off his mouth and grinning, Vash stands, sauntering over to the bed and pulling back the covers, waiting for you to lay down first.

When you finally do, he stares down at you quietly, watching as you cross your legs, pull your arms over your chest, and look away, suddenly shy at the intensity of his gaze roaming over you.

“No, please, don’t hide.” Vash sits down on the edge of the bed next to you, tracing his fingers over the bottom edge of your bra. “You look so beautiful right now…”

Finally meeting his eyes again, your heart leaps, seeing his softer side come out—his smile is warm and sincere, making you smile in return, sharing his happiness.

As you study Vash a moment longer, you notice little details: his eyes are wide and full of desire, hair disheveled from your touch, and lips still puffy from eating you out. You can feel warmth blossoming in your chest and cheeks, silently drawing your heart closer to him.

Leaning up quickly, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. He moans when your tongue finds his, exploring your mouth softly as he climbs onto the bed. One leg settles between both of yours and his hands reach for your face, neck, breasts—anything he can hold onto and get closer to you.

When you finally break for air, Vash is giggling with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?? This is great!!”

Laughing too, you pull the back of your hand over your eyes and grin, cheeks flushed and breath coming out in soft pants.

You had noticed lately that Vash had two aspects to his personality: the hardened, tough, expert outlaw gunslinger side, and the very playful, hopeful, trusting and almost child-like side. In this moment, you loved being on the receiving end of the latter.

Moving your hand enough to peek an eye open, you see Vash grinning down at you again, tilting his head curiously and waiting for you to catch your breath. “You all good??”

You nod and sit up, pulling him into a hug. “Just happy you’re here with me is all.”

Feeling the warmth of his skin against yours and his hands resting gently on your back, you calm down instantly, taking a moment to rest. This was the first time you had been close to his scars and you reach out, gently tracing over some of them, watching for a response in case you were overstepping boundaries.

He lets you keep going, however, watching carefully as your fingers trace his skin’s memories of the past—the metal grating, the permanent clamps, the burned patches, old bullet wounds, and healed-over gashes.

Pressing your lips to the biggest scar on his chest, you slowly kiss your way up to his neck while your left hand slips down his stomach to his cock, rubbing through his underwear as you continue your gentle barrage of kisses and nips.

Whimpering, Vash tosses his head back, arching into your touch. “Feels… so good!” He whines, tilting his neck so you have better access. With a grin, you lick a stripe up his pulse point, making him shiver and sending even more blood rushing to his cock.

“Don’t stop. Pleeeease.” Vash grinds against your hand, desperation bleeding into his voice. You squeeze his cock gently, making him let out a strangled “aaaah!” and lean his forehead onto your shoulder. “Baby, please… You’re killin’ me.”

Laughing softly, you free him from his boxers, tapping your fingers on the precum leaking from the tip and stringing it out, then slicking your palm over the head. His reaction is instant—whole body shaking and cheeks flushing hot as he unsuccessfully tries to keep his composure, letting out a loud “fuck!”

Using the collected slick as lube, you grip tightly around his cock, jerking the shaft slowly and avoiding grazing the head until he calms down.

“Good boyyyyy. Look at you being so good for me, Vash~”

He whines again, thrusting up into your hand and biting his lip, completely at your mercy. The greatest outlaw in history and he was absolute putty in your hands.

“W-what—” Vash chokes out while you continue stroking. “What about you??” Gripping the sheets, Vash closes his eyes and moans loudly when you lean down to flick over the head with your tongue.

“What about me?~” You look up at him, still holding onto his cock with your mouth open, drops of pearly pre on your tongue.

He huffs out a sigh, trying to compose himself. “You make it really hard to think, you know that?”

Nodding, you close your mouth and swallow, noting a slightly different flavor—more earthy, green notes than any you’d tasted before. Weird?

“I mean…” Vash reaches out and pulls you up into a kiss, then holds onto your shoulder. “What if we worked at the same time??”

oH…

“Are you sure?”

He grins again, nodding fast. Crawling up to the pillows, Vash holds out his hands and motions for you to scoot back towards him. You oblige, glad your face is hidden as he grabs your hips and pulls you to his mouth, immediately licking around the edges of your still-wet folds.

Letting out a pitiful whine, your focus falters momentarily, lost in the haze of pleasure Vash’s tongue is bringing you. You reach out to find his cock, having to stretch a bit to reach (since he’s so tall), but returning quickly to your pattern of stroking the shaft and teasing the head.

All you can do is focus on your rhythm as Vash continues to distract you with his flicks and sucks as he moans into your pussy. You can feel yourself getting wetter as both of you work, slick beginning to drip down your thighs (and you imagine, Vash’s face).

Crying out in pleasure, you pull away from Vash’s cock, clenching your legs as you feel yourself come close. “No, Vash’s it’s—!!”

You didn’t want to come so fast, but your body had other ideas, letting out a small gush of fluid as Vash teases your slit and rubs your clit, making you spill over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, feeling Vash sit up and lower your hips to his waist.

“Are you ready now??~”

You expect him to be upset or shy, but when you look back, he has another stupid grin on and looks happier than ever.

The humanoid typhoon sure was something.

“Ye-yeah, if you are…”

Vash finds a washcloth on the nightstand and dries his face while he watches you take off your bra, asking, “I don’t think we have any protection right now… Do you want me to pull out, or…??”

“I think that’s the only thing we can do? Unless you want to pause and go find some~”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I know I’m clean, I got a big checkup from the guy who made my arm just a week or two ago. Plus, we don’t really know if Plant DNA is compatible with human…”

“Hm?” He had said it so nonchalantly that you almost didn’t notice. “Plant? Like, the energy sources?”

Putting a hand to his chest, he nods. “I’m a plant. Not exactly the same variety as the ones in the power cells, but the same genetics. My caretaker Rem always said me and my brother were a ‘miracle’.”

“Can we talk about it more later?” You prompt gently, glancing down at his cock. “I’m glad I unlocked some Vash the Stampede lore, but I think we were in the middle of something??~~”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, of course.”

There’s a twinge of sadness in his gaze now and you move forward, taking his face in your hands again. “I can’t wait for you to be inside me, Vash. Please. Fuck me.”

Smiling softly, Vash eases you onto his lap and holds securely around your waist with his metal arm. With his other hand, he guides his cock to your entrance, going slow and giving you time to adjust to his size as he eases inside you. When he hits the base, he leans into your shoulder, cockwarming himself a few moments as you acclimate.

“Jeez, you feel so good…” Vash murmurs into your hair, sighing happily. You wrap your legs around his waist tighter, trusting him to keep you upright. He fills you snugly, but not so much it hurts, and you clench around him once, letting out a whimper as he still refuses to move.

Pressing your hips down, you grind onto his pelvis, rocking yourself slowly as you hide into Vash’s neck and moan softly. He keeps the moment slow and intimate, rocking his hips up into you, matching your pace and energy until you’re ready for more.

It’s all so intimate—the sweat-drenched skin, panting breaths, hands grabbing into hair, feverish kisses, and complete trust. You’re intoxicated with the way Vash treats you like a goddess; a being worthy of worship and devotion. The way he kisses your breasts, grabs at your hips and waist, the way he times and angles his thrusts—his every thought is of pleasing you.

Laying back, Vash lets you stay on top, moving his hands to your hips to help you ride him. Bucking up with increasingly desperate thrusts, he lets out strings of “ah!!!” and “nnh!” with every motion, matching your chorus of whimpering cries. As you ride him, you reach down to your clit, rubbing slow circles as Vash pounds your sensitive pussy from below.

You can feel your second orgasm of the morning build quickly as your legs shake, your endurance starting to wane even as Vash continues unhindered. Holding still, you quietly scream out Vash’s name when your peak finally hits hard, squeezing your breasts through the shockwaves to heighten your sensations.

He watches you, lost in bliss, and memorizes every moment for later. He’s never seen anyone look as beautiful as you do in this moment: face contorted in pleasure and every part of you caught alight in bliss because of him.

Vash is feeling overwhelmed in the moment too; it can take time for a plant to come, even though they’re highly sensitive, as their complex sensory and nervous system has to partially restructure to prepare for genetic transfer. Vash can feel his non-metal arm go slightly numb as he gets even harder, noting that he’ll need to drink more water and be out in the sun again to regenerate later.

“Hey…” Vash smiles at you, watching as you slump onto his stomach. “I’m still not quite ready yet. Can you take more??”

Raising your head up from his stomach, you give him a weak but happy thumbs up.

He coos softly, pulling you up to lay on the pillows, “Don’t worry. I’ll do all the work. Just rest.”

Laying back, warmth still flowing out to your hands and feet from your high, you close your eyes as Vash lifts your hips to rest against his thighs. You soon feel his slick tip meet your slit and push forward, settling himself inside again. This time, however, the slow pace from the start is all but forgotten, Vash chasing his relief as he slams himself flush against you.

You can only focus on the sensory aspect of it all: the sound of his skin slapping against yours, the way neither of you can catch your breath, and how his grunts and moans get louder the faster he pounds.

Pushing toward your next orgasm, your clit is getting overstimulated by the metal of Vash’s thumb, mimicking your own motions from earlier and bringing tears to your eyes. You almost tell him to stop, but hold out, knowing he has to be close as he slows down, spluttering out, “I’m!!! I’m— nnh!!”

Sitting up onto your elbows, you watch as Vash pulls out of you, his tip bright red and swollen. He’s whimpering, almost crying, as he reaches down to swipe your slick onto his fingers and palm, making a fist and punching his cock through at a relentless pace.

“I’m so close!!! Gah!!! I’m! I’m coming—!!!” Vash is panting desperately, moaning out your name as he finally releases, splashing warm cum onto your stomach and thighs.

Completely drained, Vash shuffles on his knees to you and flops down, hiding his face into the pillows.

Sitting all the way up, you glance down at Vash’s cum on you and pick up a strand, analyzing it quietly: it’s slightly greenish in tint, a bit shimmery, and has a consistency more akin to translucent aloe vera than human cum. Popping your finger into your mouth, the same strange taste is still there—like lemongrass or cucumber mixed with a warm buttery taste.

Vash was full of surprises…

Looking over at your bed companion, you smile, seeing him already half asleep.

“Heyyyy, you did so good, baby. Rest, I’ll be right back…”

Petting his hair, just like the night before, you press a kiss to his forehead and go to clean up, leaving a sleepy Stampede to recharge until your return.

Do not repost or recc this work on tiktok / ao3 / wattpad, etc. It is meant for a tumblr-exclusive audience only 😚❤️‍🩹

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #n/s/f/w #trigun smut #vash smut #x reader #angel voices #vash the stampede

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crystallizedtwilight · 4 months

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I really like how you draw what you love in the moment. I am making a shift in my drawing interests as well, but I'm starting to feel guilty. My friends and followers know me as the (insert fandom) artist. Deep down I know what I am feeling is silly. Draw what you love! Who cares! I know that is the truth. So my question to you is, what do you do when those thoughts come to your head (if it does)?

What a thoughtful question! Below the cut:

Thank you! I've been on tumblr for 10 years and I have come to accept that I will always receive certain messages when I begin drawing a new interest:

"Guess you don't draw X anymore" / "Why did you stop drawing X?" / "Are you ever going to draw X again?" / "I want more X" / "When can we expect more X?" / "We're never going to see X again, are we?"

Though I've emphasized many times that this is my blog for all of my art and all my fandoms, every time I switch interests I am swamped with messages like this 3-4 months afterwards. It's an inevitability, because new folks may have missed that this is a "my current interest" blog, and old folks may not like the new content you're interested in.

At first it really bothered me, because I'd draw like 150 pieces of art for a fandom for 6 months straight, need a break, and the next day people will be like "guess you don't care anymore" like all the art I did wasn't enough.

The reality is: I like the idea of managing one blog for all of my artwork. I like how low-stress it is to have one, singular place I can still use a playground for my interests. I think it's a concept some people have forgotten is an option. Dare we call it a portfolio.

I am aware that the more "modern" way to conduct things, if you want to build an audience, is to have several blogs, each dedicated to one of your interests. But the very thought of managing 100 blogs every time I got a new interest makes my skin crawl and I know it would instantly suck the fun out of it for me.

I don't want to do that. I don't want to "build an audience", I just want to have a fun space for me. There are already so many social media sites out there besides tumblr, and if you're an artist that uploads to more than one, multiplying those by each of your fandoms? Sounds like more work than I want to do.

I can't remember the name of the artist, but I recall a few years ago one of the artists for the show Korra was bombarded with these sorts of messages when they started posting art that wasn't Avatar-related. And they said something to the effect of "I gave 2 years of my life to this show. Let me explore something new." And I'll never forget that. I feel the same way.

The theme of this blog is "my art". That's it. My interests change, sometimes circle back, and change again. And that's ok—that's how artists keep art fun for themselves. Every artist deserves a playground where they can share and connect with other people who are also just as excited about their newest thing. That's the joy of it.

Keeping yourself in a box just because that's what people want or expect you to do is the death of creativity. I am at peace with people unfollowing if our interests don't align anymore. This was never a blog for catering to anyone but myself, and that is ok.

So those messages don't bother me anymore. I know they're coming. I know they will always be there. And, every time, I will find new folks who do want to share in my new interest. I think in many ways I like starting over again. It feels refreshing.

But more than that, I know the importance of keep a space for myself online where I can be as creative and fun and silly as I like, chasing after the latest thing that is making me smile.

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indig0trolls · 2 months

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BIRTHDAY ADOPTS GIVEAWAY RAFFLE!

Wow! I haven't done one of these in a long long time, so bear with me, but I've just felt incredibly lucky and grateful that so many of you have been so supportive, in general but especially since the start of the year, that I wanted to give a little something back as a thank you!

And what better occasion than my upcoming birthday!

So without further ado... onto the important parts!

RAFFLE RULES

This is a TOTALLY FREE TO ENTER raffle!

The only requirement to enter? You MUST be following me! (This is a thing to say thank you for all the support and kindness, after all!)

HOW TO ENTER!

Fill Out these forms! -> Warm Dusk -> Just a Little Squirrely

You MAY enter for both designs, but you can only WIN one!

One entry per person! If I catch you entering multiple times, or having someone enter for you... it's the blacklist for you, sorry kid thems the breaks.

On that note. NO! You cannot enter for someone else to give as a gift! I just see that getting really messy and don't want to have to sort that out.

You CANNOT resell/Trade these designs, PERIOD! Why? Well, I made them with the intention of giving them away! It just doesn't feel in the spirit of them if someone tacks on a bunch of art and upsells it later.

If. IF you get to a point where you have the design and you don't want it anymore... Give it away again! Host another raffle or gift it to a friend (with respects to my blacklist ofc).

RAFFLE ENDS ON MY BIRTHDAY,, WHICH IS JULY 23RD, AT 4:00PM EDT.

SO YOU HAVE 3 ISH DAYS TO ENTER!

And will be rolled shortly thereafter! (Probably around 5:30pm edt if we're being honest!)

FULL TOS UNDER CUT

TOS

By entering you will be agreeing to follow these terms as follows. PLEASE make sure you read them in full to understand them.

You MAY change the design/species of any design i’ve made after youve bought it, but you must leave credit with INDIG0TEA for the design, and the design itself must be recognizable.

Gender/sex/etc is ultimately up to the buyer.

You may not resell or trade these designs PERIOD. You did not pay for them, so you may not be paid for them! If you happen to get more art and want to be rid of them... Give them away! Host another raffle! That's it, sorry!

You may not include my designs in resale bundles. Period.

You may not EVER feed ANY of my art into an AI interface of ANY kind.

If gift this design, please inform me that it has been gifted so that I may update the TOS to reflect that and so future owners cannot be scammed.

You may not give this design (or any of my designs) to anyone on my blacklist, which is linked below for your convenience. Doing so will result in immediate blacklisting/blocking of your accounts.

You may not ever edit the original artwork(s).

You may not repost the original artwork to deviantart, instagram, or other social media/portfolio sites.

You may not use this design for the creation of license-able media such as (but is not limited to): books, animated shorts/shows, Vtuber/twitch streamer sonas, comics/webcomics, and video games (free or otherwise). If you would like to use this design in anything like this, we can negotiate a one time licensing fee which covers use in all of the above. This can be anywhere form an additional 150-500$ depending on your intended use.

You MAY use your design for any other purpose, so long as you are not profiting financially off of my work nor passing it off as your own.

You are allowed to store it in your deviantart sta.sh, post it to tumblr profiles, or upload it to websites like toyhou.se with proper credit.

However, you may not reupload to toyhou.se, to keep the ownership log intact, and to keep the original tos consistent.

For my personal comfort, you may not delete original listings from toyhou.seand resell it separately. This is again to keep the ownership log intact, and to keep the original tos consistent. If the person you wish to resell it to does not have a toyhou.se, I have plenty of invite codes I can give out as necessary.

Please credit to INDIG0TEA the first time you post art of them to websites other than toyhou.se

Violation of many of these terms will result in permanent blacklisting/banning from buying or owning designs by me in the future.

BLACKLIST

#my art #adoptables #newt raffles #now back to my regular grind

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pastafossa · 9 months

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Pet loss below the cut.

Cato was my cat. That's the long and short of it.

From the first night I had him when he curled up against my neck to fall asleep with me, to his final night when he curled up on my chest to try and comfort me, there is not a single day I've been home that I haven't had my kitten chow with me. He was my tiny shadow, always trotting along after me or singing at me from around the house with that long Siamese wail or bringing me scores of socks he hid god knows where (although once he brought me an entire umbrella instead, which he was understandably proud of). He was by my pillow every night cuddled up against my arm, and we fit together like two puzzle pieces, like that little crook in my arm was designed for him, for his exact shape and size. He was with me through my health issues, through high school and college, through moving states, through covid, through tears, through the loss of other pets. He was there as I really learned to write, and there is not a single chapter of TRT that was written without his presence for at least a section of it even if it meant I had to stop editing or writing for a bit and just stare at the words instead because he wanted to be held NOW. And he even managed to hold off the cancer just long enough to walk with me through mom's hospital stay and her return home. I was his person, and he was my soul cat, a piece of me.

I was so torn last night. He was clearly in pain, dehydrated, wobbly, confused and restless, and couldn't get to the litter box. It had been really clear this week the moment was coming, that the cancer was going to take him soon. I'd had this big plan, to have it all happen at home in peace. He hated the vet, hated the stress, but it happened so fast, and I just... knew he couldn't wait for the vet's office to open so she could come here. He'd chosen his time and it was now.

I held him at the emergency vet when they gave him the sedative. I managed to choke out that silly singing tone that always made him happy, as I called him every last nickname he knew: my Cato-wato kitten chow, my Cato kins, my little Mr. meow meow, my sweet happy baby kitty. I made sure all he could see with those big beautiful blue eyes of his was me, as I petted his soft little ears and scratched his neck just the way he liked. And he actually managed to purr for me. He purred as he slipped away and the lights went out, and it was the last sound I ever got to hear from him.

I already miss you so, so much, my sweet old kitty, my Cato kitten chow. I'm sorry it couldn't be at home. But thank you for purring for me. Thank you for spending your journey with me. Thank you for the love you gave me. Thank you for the big meows and the headbonks and perching on my shoulder to interrupt with a breaking news story of Meow Meow. Thank you for the stealing of hundreds of my socks over 16 years and the way you always wanted to sit on me regardless of convenience or your own comfort. Thank you for letting me scoop you up for head smoochies, guarding me from nightmares, and solemnly supervising over 150 chapters of TRT. My soul cat, my baby kitty, my lovebug. I will always love and miss you. And one day I'll see you again.

#tw: pet death #cato the siamese #this is the hardest pet loss i've ever experienced #i didn't want to leave him there. it was so so hard walking out without him #i'll have his ashes in a few weeks and i have plans to get a tattoo of his pawprint but this is going to be rough for a while #he was such a part of my daily life for 16 years and now he's just gone #it's been so long that i don't really remember how i did things without him around #and now even having to feed the other kitties makes me cry because he's not there to meow at me to hurry or trot after me #i miss him

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thisisatesttai · 9 months

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IchiRuki is not "delusional," and saying that it is means you have no media literacy

IHs seem to think that all it takes to interpret Ichigo, Rukia, and Orihime's feelings is to read the epilogue. To a literary critic, that is absurd. Characters explain how they feel over and over again across a piece of media. An ending may give us context that alters the earlier scenes, but this is always in very specific ways. With Bleach, nothing about the epilogue indicates that Ichigo and Rukia are not supposed to be read as at least potentially romantic.

For posterity's sake, I should point out that I've only seen the first few arcs of the anime, so most of what I say below is based on the manga. That said, the anime is part of the story as much as the manga is, so just because something happened in the manga and not the anime, or vice versa, doesn't make it "truer" to the text, just true to different texts.

Let's start with the fact that the story repeatedly suggests that Ichigo and Rukia have a romantic vibe to them. The rumors at school make this explicit, but just from the setup of two classmates who clearly have a secret that are constantly sneaking off, especially when you add in that they go home together and sleep in the same room. I know a lot of people want IchiRuki to be the Platonic Boy/Girl Friends (TM) but honey, they just ain't them. You're thinking of Naruto and Sakura. Claims that they have a sibling vibe are utterly baseless, especially in Bleach, where sibling relationships are a very explicit theme. Not every non-romantic couple that's nominally the same age (don't get me started on the "she's 150" arguments; go prosecute ACTUAL 150-year-olds dating 15-year-olds and leave me alone) is automatically a sibling vibe. The most I could say is that they do bicker a lot, but we all know that's just as comparable to a married couple. Saying Rukia is a mentor to Ichigo admittedly has a little more basis, especially when Bleach doesn't have a designated mentor figure. I still think Rukia's role in teaching Ichigo about the Soul Society is more of a guide archetype, though; think less Genkai, more Botan.

But setting aside the setup, the Soul Society Arc, or Rescue Rukia arc, is loaded with romantic themes and imagery. Don't get me wrong; nothing says that Kubo couldn't have introduced these as a fake-out to the audience, with the intention of subverting their expectations. I don't personally think there's anything that really suggests that, at least not so far as the romantic reading of the Soul Society arc itself being entirely off-base. The whole arc kicks off because Rukia is asked by Orihime and her friends if she "like-likes" Ichigo. She says she only likes him as a friend, but all of the narrative cues suggest that she's being dishonest, from the narration to the fact that she was so bothered by the question that she chooses now to go to the Soul Society and face her punishment. The suggestion at this point seems to be that Rukia having any type of affection for Ichigo, be it friendship or romantic, is inappropriate or even impossible for a shinigami. Ichigo's feelings are treated similarly, as he never gives a straight answer when he's asked why he wants to save Rukia, but several characters suggest that it's because he's in love with her. This doesn't mean he is, but the narrative does not deny that that is a possible reasoning. We're not even really told what his answer is; the scene where he thinks, "That's why I fought so hard to save you" seems to be suggesting that he wanted her to be able to decide whether she would live in the World of the Living or the Soul Society -- or else it's saying he didn't want the last time he saw her to be her telling him she would never forgive him, or it's saying that he wanted to see her smile again. Like I said, we're not given an explicit answer to this question.

The rest of the manga is basically about Ichigo adjusting to life without Rukia. I think it's fair to say that even if you read Soul Society romantically, from the Arrancar Invasion Arc on, Rukia is no longer written as Ichigo's love interest. This doesn't invalidate anything suggested in the previous arcs, though. If anything, I would argue that Ichigo's feelings become pretty explicit by the time we get to Hueco Mundo. The dramatic reveal of Rukia coming to visit, and the fact that she's the only person capable of breaking him out of his funk, both have a romantic reading to them. When the team arrives in Hueco Mundo, Ichigo is shown to be overly concerned with Rukia's safety, explicitly singling her out aside from Renji, Uryu, and Chad. (I guess that could just be misogyny, though.) Even Ichigo's obsession with getting a rematch with Grimmjow could be traced to him nearly one-shotting Rukia during their fight in Karakura. I'm not saying any of these are exclusive interpretations, just showing how it's regularly reinforced that Ichigo feels differently about Rukia than any of his other companions, even to the point of letting it cloud his judgment.

I don't think I need to say anything about Ichigo and Rukia's goodbye before the timeskip. The way the scene is drawn, and written, and framed by the narrative, is very reminiscent of romance scenes, to the point that if it was meant to be read as exclusively platonic, it comes off as a very bad satire. And jumping to the anime real quick, I know episode 342 is anime-only, but by no means do I think that invalidates everything it says about Ichigo and Rukia's feelings for each other. That episode oozes with ship-bait, to the point of turning the subtext of their relationship into text. And if you think this is something that the anime studio injected into the narrative -- well, first of all, then we'd also have to parse out everything that the Shonen Jump editors injected into the manga -- but Kubo himself has said that he thought the episode was a welcome addition. So, if your'e someone who thinks the author's vision is the final say on the manga, there you have it; Kubo basically canonized ep. 342.

With all that in mind, I think that, at the very least, Bleach's narrative suggests that Ichigo and Rukia are coulda-beens. Maybe Ichigo was more invested than Rukia was, maybe Rukia deemed it inappropriate due to them being from different worlds, but in the language of manga and storytelling in general, the idea that they might have feelings for each other isn't some fan's "delusion"; it is actually part of the text. Whether or not they actually felt something for each other is for them and them alone to know, but the story tells us that these are two people who met, came to care very deeply for each other, and then drifted apart without ever taking the plunge.

The question that this leaves us with is, where does that leave Orihime?

If there's one character whose feelings are never up for debate, it's Orihime. We know from practically her first scene that she has a crush on Ichigo. Now, at first that's never taken seriously. It's mostly just a setup for the running gag of her bonkers imagination. Over time, though, we get a little bit more insight into Orihime's feelings, and she starts to get taken more seriously as a character. There's a version of Bleach where, as Orihime steps up to be by Ichigo's side in the latter arcs, he moves on from his feelings for Rukia and the two develop as a couple. If that were the case, even if IchiHime doesn't appeal to me, personally, I would still accept it. It would actually be a refreshingly mature take on teenage romance. Unfortunately, that version is not in the text.

For that reading of Bleach to work, we would need to see their love for each other build to a place where both characters bring out the best in each other, at least comparably to Ichigo and Rukia. Unfortunately, Ichigo and Orihime don't seem to bring out the best in each other. Ichigo brings out all of Orihime's insecurities. During the lead-up to the Arrancar arc, Orihime starts to compare herself to Rukia. (There's literally a panel sequence that says, without a single word "find you someone who looks at you the way Ichigo looks at Rukia", to anyone who's still unconvinced that there's a romantic reading to those two.) And as the entirety of the Hueco Mundo hammers home, Orihime is personally ill-equipped to be Rukia. Both Rangiku and Rukia herself have speeches where they tell Orihime that she needs to stop trying to live up to what she thinks Ichigo wants and just be herself, but she sticks to the mantra that she wants to "fight by Ichigo's side" -- you know, like Rukia does. Urahara even tells her outright that she needs to stop trying to put herself on the battlefield. It's not particularly nice of him to squash her dreams like that, but it's not as though she doesn't get an out; Hachi is already there, trying to teach Orihime to be a healer, something she has a natural talent for.

Instead of reframing her wishes with the advice of her friends, Orihime makes the worst decision of her life and goes to Hueco Mundo with Ulquiorra. Now, obviously this is coerced by the Espada and not her actual response to the situation, but that doesn't mean they're not framed as consequential to each other, narratively. Orihime is told she has a flaw that she needs to change, but before she's able to do so, she must go through hardships so she can let go of the façade that she's using to cover up her flaw. Well, she goes through hardships alright. She's imprisoned, assaulted, and threatened with death. Orihime is confronted both with her weaknesses, and with her strengths, as she is eventually able to appeal to Ulquiorra's humanity through her willingness to see the goodness in people, even those who are actively abusing her. You would think this would lead to a change in Orihime that goes back and answers the underlying question, but it doesn't. By the end of the manga, she is still fantasizing about being a Battle Couple alongside Ichigo, and she's still not good at it. I don't know how many times I've had to say this, but Orihime and Ichigo losing their fight to Yhwach is not a triumphant moment. The fact that it's the result of Orihime achieving her series-long dream is more of an indictment against their relationship than anything else I could say.

To adopt the narrative that Ichigo got over Rukia to be with Orihime, we would also need to see him come to appreciate Orihime in her own right, something that he is...hopelessly uninterested in. No, we can't just take for granted that he's a dopey shonen hero and "that's just his character"; if he's supposed to be . We also absolutely cannot take for granted that this happens offscreen; that can be a headcanon that you, as the audience, choose to adopt, but it's not suggested by anything other than the assumption that the ending is supposed to be, and can only be, saccharinely happy. There's nothing to suggest that Ichigo changes the way he thinks about Orihime in the text, and we only ever see him thinking about her is when reacting to her in scenes, and just generally not wanting her to die. The closest we get to him expressing a romantic interest in Orihime is the scene where he asks her to "wait for him" -- at Rukia's wedding, no less. I shouldn't have to spell out how having this happen on the very day, at the very moment, that Rukia is considered "off-limits" to conventional societal standards undercuts the idea that Ichigo is not taking Orihime as a consolation prize. Which, don't get me wrong, SUCKS. But it is implicit in the framing, and can't be ignored.

And that's without getting into Rukia's relationship with Renji. I think in this case, we can very obviously see that Kubo tried to write a romance between them, but he did so in such a half-assed way that I find it very hard to take seriously. Yes, Ichigo throwing Rukia to Renji is obviously meant to tell us that Renji is her love interest from that point in the story, but that doesn't mean it works. First of all, we can't pretend Renji wasn't awful to Rukia for a majority of the Soul Society arc. Sure, this is him pre-character development, but it's a huge leap to go from "I'm conflicted over whether I should tell off my boss for killing you" to a canon couple. But even with Renji beating up Rukia and telling her he wished she was dead, you can still get to the point where they repair their relationship -- it just takes a lot of work that Bleach simply doesn't do. We need more than Renji promising to turn things around, we need to see him do things that make up for that. To be fair, though, Kubo spends very little time showing us what they're like when one of them isn't on death row. At most, they seem to train together a lot. Like, you want platonic boy/girl besties? THESE are platonic boy/girl besties. Actually, they're the ones with the sibling dynamic, given that they literally grew up calling each other family.

So where does that leave us? Some people seem to assume that despite Kubo fumbling the ball, the canon couples were meant to be, and that they somehow found happiness despite all the evidence to the contrary. Again, you can hold that headcanon for yourself if it makes you happy. However, if we're going strictly based off the text, the answer seems to be that Bleach doesn't have a happy ending. The characters whose endings are not related to getting married off all end up doing the one thing they didn't want to do -- Chad ends up using his fists for personal gain as a boxer, Uryu ends up alone, etc. -- and the ones who DO get what they want are the ones whose dreams are framed as being misguided, in Orihime's case, or unearned, in Renji's case. I'm not saying you have to ship IchiRuki, of course. I can't tell you how to read the series. At the end of the day, Bleach is to you what it is to you. But saying that reading IchiRuki as romantic is "delusional" is more than just false, it diminishes media literacy for all of us.

#bleach #rant #shipping #ichiruki #ichihime #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #orihime inoue #renji abarai #we do knot always love you #i mean look at that title #that's supposed to be the big renruki book #why is it based around a double entendre that's basically #we always love you -- NOT!

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phantom-of-the-501st · 7 months

Text

And we're back!

Initial thoughts on TBB S3 Eps 1-3

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

3x1 Confined

Final season premiere let's go!!!

Storms are never a good sign

There's creepy shit on Tantiss (crocodile thing from the trailer maybe?)

Although Hemlock counts as creepy enough

He's the creepiest thing on the whole planet 😬

Tbf there's a stunning view, it's just a shame about the prison window blocking it

CROSS IS BACK!!!

Omega blood sample? That's gotta come back later in the season!

Are these blood samples labelled? How tf does anyone know which is which??? That's just bad lab practice 🙄

Oh the weird machine knows. Nvm

"Replicate the genetic M count" and they want Omega's blood???

Nala Se is protecting Megs. Slenderbitch may actually be of some use

Force senstive Megs?

This feels like this is linking with the cloning plot in The Mandalorian

The animal welfare standards here are abysmal 😠

BATCHER?! Oh that's adorable 😍

And I thought Omegas's room was bad holy shit 😭

The grid across Cross' room is casting a crosshair on Omega's face. I love little details like that

21 tallies on wall = 21 rotations? That doesn't seem like very long

STRAW LULA?! 😭❤️

Why are there blood drips going into each sample? This seems like a contamination issue

At least 150 tallies now 😭

Subject will be terminated if they don't heal. Feels very much like the clones when they were on Kamino, which just shows how much the clones were treated like animals

"I belong here" *sobs*

Cross don't make me cry istg. I can't do this at 8am on a Wednesday 😭

Okay but the droid kind of had a point about Batcher struggling in the wild because of Omega domesticating her. One thing you learn about working in a zoo environment is that hand-reared animals have no idea how to behave like their wild counterparts and basically turn into little psychos (like you can't actually be in the same room as some of them levels of bad). That or they rely on people too much and have no idea how to fend for themselves. Either way, the droid wasn't entirely wrong

Hemlock is a bastard 😒

Omega's theme!!!

Season premiere and only two Batcher (neither of whom are Hunt or Wreck). Interesting!

1x2 Paths Unknown

Fucking Roland Durand?!

Did not expect that in episode 2 omg!

Hunter and Wrecker being mercenaries for the Durands?

Ah okay it seems to be a one off

THE GOGGLES IN THE SHIP! 😭😭😭😭

Hunt and Wreck be looking a bit scuffed

Echo and Rex mention!

They won't be available for 2 rotations? Well we're not seeing them this episode then...

Hunter's emotions are making him impulsive and that's not really a good thing

Wrecker is actually the one holding back, which is an interesting dynamic. Wrecker can see how bad Hunter is coping and is probably having to keep him in line as much as he can so that they don't lose another brother

CLONE CADETS! CLONE CADETS!

These ones actually have New Zealand accents as well

The slither vines were genetically made and got out of hand? This is what we mean by invasive species, people. Very much not good

Okay so we have one called Box and one called Stak

Are the cadets not affected by the chips? Do they only active in fully trained soldiers?

We need to get these kids to Echo and Rex

GONKY BACKPACK!!! 😆

Poor Gonky is stuck upside down.

These vines are making vocalisations somehow and it's confusing me. Plant voice boxes?

OKAY WTF ARE THOSE THINGS???

They look like weird green versions of the slogs from Abe's Oddysee

Why are you breaking into the Marauder???

You better not be stealing it. That's already happened and we can't do it again

Okay clone cadet 3 is Deke

Ayyyy rescue time!

Okay, I'll let them off for getting on the ship

Because we totally needed a swampy sarlacc thing rn 😭

PABU!!!

*Remembers invasion of Pabu in trailer* FUCK

1x3 Shadows of Tantiss

I'm going to throw hands if Echo isn't in this episode 😤

Ooh mystery clone(?) who everyone thinks is Tech!

Nala Se is helping again 👀

The special guest is probs Palpatine

Le Palps is back

Project Necromancer - bringing back the dead?

So is this to do with the cloning stuff or something to do with Tech?

Probs the cloning thing tbf

*Angry mouse droid squeaks*

FUCK YEAH CROSS!

Missed watching this guy fight

Cross and Omega team up let's go!!!

Cross doesn't question why Omega only mentioned Wrecker and Hunter. Has Omega told him about Tech or did he just not question why she only brought two up?

And in that case has she told him that Echo is with Rex?

I HAVE QUESTIONS!

Cross went for the stun not the kill. Very different from 2x3

Do you think Hemlock has a scar or does he just choose to shave a slit in his eyebrow? 🤨

Oh great a big green monkey cat. Just what we need!

"Of course he did". CROSSHAIR BEING SOFT ABOUT TECH HELP

Cross is missing shots because of his shaky hands :(

OMEGA M COUNT???

Oooooooh they're adding blood with midichlorians in to the samples to see if they would take. That explains the blood being added to the samples

Overall I love these episodes! It's nice going back and forth between Cross and Omega, and Hunter and Wrecker. We're going to get some interesting dynamics

This is a very sad day for Echo stans though. I feel like we're going to be suffering a lot this season 🥲

And here's the bingo card as of rn!

#glad to be back #need to do some theorising #but I also have to do research for my dissertation so *cries*#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #tbb omega #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb hunter

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veliseraptor · 13 days

Text

ok ok inspired by the recent success of the three sentence meme going to try my regular pre-flight 150 words meme. aka send me a number from the list of fics below and I will write 150 words in that fic

1. Pete sat down on the floor. Porsche, hovering, gave him a worried look. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Pete said, then adjusted, “sitting.”

“I can see that,” Porsche said. “Are you okay?”

Pete laughed. “No,” he said. He didn’t know when he was going to be okay again.

“Um,” Porsche said. After a couple seconds he sat down on the floor with Pete and put an awkward hand on his shoulder. “Do you, uh, want to talk about it?”

“No,” Pete said again. He didn’t know what he would even say, if there was anything to say. He was so tired and it felt like any minute now Vegas was going to die again, and he was just waiting for it to happen. (reduce, reuse, recycle)

2. “Can I ask you something?” Xiao Xingchen asked. Xue Yang glanced in his direction, fingers pausing on his keyboard.

“Sure,” he said. “Sounds ominous. Hit me.”

“It’s nothing bad,” Xiao Xingchen said. “I was just wondering if you remember what you said when we first met.” Xue Yang had said no before, in the hospital, but it’d clearly been a lie then. He was hoping maybe the answer would be different now. Xue Yang made some kind of face, but it was hard to read.

That, Xiao Xingchen thought absently, was one of the things he was going to miss most: the ability to see Xue Yang’s face and read his expressions. Not just because he liked looking at him, but because it was going to get even harder to tell what he was thinking. (Redux)

3. Which brought him here, in a room with a dirty, scruffy boy of indeterminate age (a skinny fifteen, maybe), his hands tied behind his back and an expression of casual unconcern on his face. Unconcern, except for the dangerous glint in his eyes that Jin Guangyao was going to be careful not to forget.

“I didn’t say to restrain him,” he said to the disciples who’d brought him back. He hadn’t, to be precise, told them to bring him at all, but there was no point in saying so now.

“He tried to attack me,” said one of them.

“After you got in my face,” the boy said. “You deserved it.” (jgy teaches xy to read)

4. Oh, no, Pete thought again, but with a little more despair this time.

“Take Pete,” Khun Kinn said.

Vegas’s gaze swept to Pete, flicked slowly over him from head to toe. “Isn’t he one of Tankhun’s?” he said. “He won’t be thrilled that you’re loaning out his bodyguard to me.”

“That’s not your problem.”

“Considering Tankhun,” Vegas said, “it actually might end up being my problem.” (the devil drives)

5. That slight hitch. A correction. The muscles between Fenris’s shoulders tensed and he thought abruptly, disjointedly, of a red-haired woman sitting at a table in the Hanged Man, the sudden realization…

“Anders,” he said. The mage barely glanced at him, seeming distracted.

“That big thing in the sky is scarier,” said the young girl. She, unlike her father, was looking at Fenris. “I heard it’s full of demons that’re trying to come out. What’re those lines on your skin, mister?”

“They’re tattoos,” Fenris said. His limbs felt heavy. He glanced toward his sword, three paces away. “Meant to imitate Dalish vallaslin.” He hadn’t meant to say that. Something was wrong. “Anders,” he said again.

Anders was looking at his hands and frowning. “Bloody hell,” he said. “Where did you find magebane?” (the best all lack conviction)

6. Malkar meant it when he’d said he was going to demand a lot of me. He said if I wanted to be a hocus - wizard - nobody could know where I came from. “Do you think the Mirador will welcome a whore from Pharoahlight?” he asked me. “No one must ever know where you came from. They’d throw you out on the streets. Now tell me about the Curia again, and for god’s sake, mind your vowels.”

And when I didn’t do well enough, fast enough, there were always consequences.

“This is how you learn, Felix,” Malkar said while I was shaking on hands and knees at his feet. He bent down and took my chin and tilted my head back so I was looking up at him, but he was gentle about it now. “It is for your own good.” (Pygmalion)

7. “Why are you so eager,” Song Lan asked. Xue Yang laughed, his smile turning sharper, a little less pleased.

“Why wouldn’t I be? A chance to help these poor people. Wouldn’t miss it.” Song Lan waited silently, and Xue Yang’s eyes cut away. “I’m curious, Song-daozhang,” he said. “Is there something wrong with that? Walking around with you and your judgmental glare gets boring. Give me a problem to chew on, a mystery to figure out, something.” (Walking Far From Home)

8. “Tell me...tell me how we met,” Xiao Xingchen said.

A brief pause that made Xiao Xingchen’s stomach swoop with sudden unease. “What,” his friend said lightly, “did you forget that, too?”

“I’m…” Xiao Xingchen wasn’t sure if he should apologize or not. He tried to remember, even if thinking made his head hurt, searching through his jumbled thoughts. Something about the smell of blood? A fragment of thought: at least I might be able to fix this. “You were hurt,” he said, half a question.

“Uh huh,” his friend said. “That’s good.”

“And I found you,” Xiao Xingchen said, a little more confidently. “Helped you.” (xiao xingchen + concussion)

#150 words meme #meme #fic excerpt #hit meeee

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enchxanting · 1 year

Text

our love is god [ethan landry]

read part 2 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: nothing yet but this fic is heathers-inspired, so be warned for the future.

author's note: hi guys, long time lurker first time poster. this is my first time WRITING fic so feel free to leave any critique. also i don't know if i did the cut right lol i have a lot planned and hope you like!

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

Dear Diary,

I should’ve never let Mindy convince me to start this operation.

Sure, it’s nice to have a steady cash flow, but nothing is more aggravating than everyone and their mother asking for doctor’s notes, report cards, prescriptions, and absence notes when I’m just trying to make it to fourth-period math. When I was ten, I expected to use my Nancy-Drew-inspired skills to unearth hidden staircases or find whistling statues, not help someone’s checked-out mom get a Xanax.

Yet I forged three (3) permission slips today. Why? Because, next to mysteries, I love the sweet smell of cash in the morning. Yesterday, I added $150 to the rainy day fund. Hopefully, when the weather’s right, I'll be inspired to buy a car and ditch Woodsboro. This town is fucked, alright. Just ask Chad, Mindy, Sam, or–

“Tara! Jesus Christ!” I rub my leg where her sneaker connected. “What’s your damage?”

“Are you done, Shakespeare? You said you’d get lunch with me like, fifteen minutes ago.”

Tara isn’t so great with patience. But, again, I am not so great at keeping track of time. “Yeah, whatever,” I say. “Let’s go see what they’ve cooked up for us today.”

I follow her through the winding path of tables, chairs, and teenage bodies. As we go, I collect bills from outstretched hands and replace them with papers of varying sizes. Tara turns to smirk at me. “What was the event this time?”

“Oh, you know. It’s report card season, and this school is not known for its stellar GPAs.”

“We just have you to thank for keeping it floating below a 3.0,” she teases. “Tell me, Y/N. Does all that extra brainpower of yours get used up matching the way people dot their i’s and cross their t’s?”

I roll my eyes at her. “Sure, Tara. Let’s just get some lunch. I’m seriously starving.”

We grab trays and join the line, aimlessly chattering about the day. Tara’s been my friend since the beginning of the year when I was the only new kid in a town struck by tragedy. We were the only new buyers in Woodsboro over the summer. The rest are still empty, the memory of last year’s Ghostface attacks having driven out long-time residents.

What’s surprising, though, is that the so-called “Woodsboro Four” are still here. Sure, Sam, Tara, Mindy, and Chad mostly stick together, but despite the terrible tragedy that they witnessed, they let me and Annika, Mindy’s current girlfriend, into their lives. I could never measure up to that. I’m just glad they want to be my friend.

I’m taken out of my musings on friendship when I feel someone’s eyes on my back. Without turning around, I recite my usual speech. “$5 for report cards, $10 for prescriptions and absence notes, and an extra $5 for rush fees.”

“Woah, um, tempting, but I’m not looking for any forgery.”

Confused, I turn around to put a face to an unfamiliar voice. The guy’s tall, almost as tall as Chad, with curly brown hair and brown eyes that widen when I meet them. “Sorry, I was just going to get my lunch, but you dropped some cash back here.”

For some reason, my voice is not working. All I can do is look up at him, suddenly captivated by how shy he seems to be. When I pause for a few moments too long, Tara reaches around and takes the money from his hand. “Uh, thanks. I’m sure my friend here appreciates it. Usually she’s more talkative.”

“Oh, god, yeah, sorry,” I finally get out, stumbling over my words. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Suddenly, I think he remembers to be bashful and walks away without another word.

When he’s gone, Tara laughs. “God, Y/N, drool much? I’ve never seen you like that before.”

I flush red. “Whatever, Tara, you’re the worst.” I give her a playful shove and walk off to buy my lunch. I hand the money to the cashier, but all I can think about are those big, brown eyes, and I know I’m fucked.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader #scream 6 #scream 2023 #jack champion #heathers #heathers au #high school au #ethan landry fanfiction

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babstheyaga · 2 months

Text

To Protect.

A little sumthin' sumthin' for @placeboforpeople

Tossing and turning didn't help anyone at the time of night it was.

With no clocks in the room, or really any way to tell time at all, I was exhausted. I was hard stuck in a heat, my blood pumping so fast I could hear it in my ears, my heart never stopping below 150 beats. I was losing my mind just sitting there. It was pitch black out, not a single sign of daylight showing that I so hopefully prayed for.

Jazz was out of the house, lord knows where, while I was stuck up in his room, moping my sorrowful body around in a desperate need to get comfortable.

My stomach was killing me. I knew I hadn't eaten in a solid three days, the whole house empty and no one around to escort me down the stairs.

I was told to stay in Jazz's room until everyone came back... But who knows how long ago that was. I slept most of my days away in his bed, praying for any form of higher power to come down and bless my heat away.

Being stuck in a room with your organs fighting against each other, no alpha in sight, no males or hell, females to be found... I was beyond just uncomfortable. I was suffering.

If I could just get myself to open the stupid door and go downstairs to just grab something to drink or eat, I knew it would make it more tolerable. Nothing worked, everything they told me that would help ease the cramps and aches didn't work. I felt like I was being torn apart from the inside out.

It was cold in the room I was pacing in. The, thankfully, air conditioned room was helping aid at least somewhat of the living lava pit I became, but still. Uncomfortable. Suffering. Pitiful. Whatever you wanted to call it, I hated every second of it.

I wanted to be held. By basically anyone at this point. I didn't care who, I didn't care what. Some sort of living human would do my body wonders.

I tried to slow my pacing down to a small walk, I was almost running between the corners of the room at that point. I was going to pass out, I knew I would. Lack of any H2O was going to be the killer, but at this point, I think that's what the Autobot's wanted.

I swear they left me in this stupid farm house to die alone. I was getting sickly skinny, dehydrated to the point breathing the wrong way made my head spin at top speed and I knew for a fact I blacked out more than once.

I just needed to sleep it off. They'll be home in the morning. They'll be home in the morning. They'll be home in the morning.

Knock knock knock!

Every inch, every crevice of my body spiked with adrenaline and instant fear.

Who the hell was knocking on the front door at fucking midnight?!

It wouldn't be one of the boys, it wouldn't be Arcee or Elita, they all would just let themselves in no problem...

Oh Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.... Please just be some stupid FedEx guy that's just extremely late...

Knock knock knock!

There they go again.

I knew for sure it wasn't one of the Autobots. Either that or it was one of them that was testing to see if I would answer it or not... It couldn't be a test, could it?

They should know by now that I'm not running away. With everything that's gone on between us all, I have no place to go. I don't plan on getting out, especially not in the position I was in physically.

Knock knock knock!

Alright, this was getting ridiculous. I have to leave the room to see who it was.

It's bad enough I'm losing my mind in here, let alone being stuck alone in a two story house not allowed to eat or drink anything...

Jesus... Please let this be at least one of them and not some murderer.

The walk to the door of Jazz's room was short, his room, I concluded, was the smallest of all of the Autobots. With a few dirty t-shirts, loose hanging posters, it was dirty, not super well kept together like BumbleBee or Optimus's rooms...

I could feel my hands trembling ever so slightly from either nerves or too high of heart rate, but I pushed past it, being gentle, scared, and soft to twist the handle and pried the door open.

It was warmer outside of Jazz's room than it was inside as I opened the door, my eyes being peeled to lurk outside of it and take a gander down the hall, just to make sure I was certain I was alone up there.

Knock knock knock!

This person was persistent, whoever they were, and I was determined, yet scared out my wits end, to find out who exactly was on the other side of the front door.

I was anxious to let my foot slide out from the room I was hidden in, my legs feeling weak, tired, and shaking up a storm from just walking for five minutes. I was exhausted, yet completely unable to sleep. Being an insomniac wasn't all it was put up to be.

Knock knock knock!

I was now rushed with my movements to get to the edge of the long stairs, the knocking never leaving a calm, patient rhythm, yet there was short lived pauses between them, telling me it was urgent I get to talk to them.

My toes met the edge of the staircase, and I got a good look towards the wooden door.

The porch light was on, yet none others were, the house was totally black, making it seem all the more eerie.

I wasn't in the right mindset to be meeting strangers, I wasn't in the right mindset to be around anyone at all. I was in heat, so it was realistically everything I needed, but whoever it was on the other side wasn't going to leave by the sounds of it...

Knock knock knock!

I was slow, cautious, to move my feet down each step, too scared to move too fast, unable to move too fast. I was like a newborn making my way down the stairs, each step I took felt like a leap over the Grand Canyon, but I needed to see who it was. I didn't care. If it be BumbleBee pulling a prank on me, or hell, Mirage showing up out of the blue to stab me again, I didn't care, just get me out that damn room...

I made it to the bottom, and whoever it was on the other side wasn't in view, either too short, or too skinny to see in the windows besides and above the wooden frame... It definitely wasn't one of my previous alphas.

I inched my way to the door, my hands now shaking far too badly to not notice it, but I wrapped my hands around the handle, being petrified to turn it, then pulled it open.

Amongst the darkened Florida swamp, standing at the end of the porch, was a person of some sort.

Their hair short and black, their skin pale but heavily bruised, covered in gauze and scars that I could tell cut too deep for comfort...

I stared, my brows morphing upwards, getting a better look at the person.

With seemingly no shirt underneath a police, or perhaps a military bullet proof vest, long, baggy cargo pants, and hefty combat boots... I didn't recognize this person for even an moment.

“Hello, Miss!” They said, rather strictly, their voice strong with their wording, yet had a crack in the middle like they were nervous to see me.

I opened my mouth to say something, unsure of how to react.

“I was sent by Optimus Prime to check in on you... You're the type C omega, correct?” They said, and I was even more baffled.

I didn't have it within me to speak, so I only gave the smallest of nods, allowing my partially nude body to show properly from the door I was hiding behind.

“Good. I'm Bumper,” They reached out their hand rather forwardly, and I couldn't help but jump at the sharpness of their movements. They stopped, flinching back a little. “My apologies...” They put their hands behind their back, their stature long and tall, though they were the same height as me. “Forgive me.” They said, sounding awfully unforgiving of themselves.

I closed my partially ajar lips, took in a breath slowly and looked them up and down, trying to make sure they weren't a threat.

They were an omega of some sort, the letters and meanings behind their scents not yet taught to me... And I, for some stupid reason, felt more comfortable. More at ease.

“May I come in?” They lifted their head to see over me and into the house, and I could feel my heart start up again, my mind racing if I should allow some stranger into the Autobot's leader's house.

“U-Um...” I tried to say something, bringing either thumb to one another to pick and pull at my nails.

“Oh... Perhaps I am not greeting you correctly...” They shook their head in shame, then lifted their arm, showing me their concerningly damaged wrist.

I stood still, shocked and unsure how to react. They were offering me their wrist as a form of greeting, but I had only seen Detectors do such a thing...

When they noticed my stunned expression, they again apologized. “I-I'm sorry...” They brought their hands behind them again. “I have never met a type C before, I'm not totally sure how to make myself known to you...” They searched the ground for answers I don't think either of us could come up with.

They made me jump again with speaking. “O-O-Or perhaps you could accompany me outside! If – You are not comfortable with me entering your house, that is, Miss.”

I stared. I waited. And stared some more.

This person was odd. I had never seen an Autobot with so many actively healing wounds before.

I waited a moment longer, studying them patiently waiting for my answer. I... Honestly wasn't sure what the correct answer was supposed to be... I didn't want them to come in. What if Mirage had sent them to come check up on me... But it would probably be just as dangerous outside as it would be inside...

Dammit...

I was nervous with my movements to step onto the wooden patio, my bare feet feeling the old, unpolished panels and I tried not to think too much about it. I was slow to close the door behind me, bringing either arm around my elbows in a strange form of a comfortable hug.

They didn't give me a smile, they didn't give me a frown, they only stood there for a long moment, flicking their strangely dark eyes between mine.

This person really was... Odd.

Their scent was weird to me, perhaps in the form that I just hadn't yet smelled an omega yet. But their eyes, their body, and demeanor... They were off. Like something about them wasn't comfortable around me.

I didn't understand why.

When they finally made a move, having rather quick and rough movements, they turned on their heel and looked outward towards the barn, the parking spaces in the gravel empty, no cars in sight... How the hell did they get here?

“You're um...” My voice was horse, anxious, I wasn't sure if I was allowed to speak. I was taught with my time with the Autobots that I'm supposed to be seen, not heard. Well, we've all seen how well that normally goes over with my loud mouth, but this just felt... Different.

They looked to me from the corner of their eye as I came to their side, the porch railing coming in contact with my quivering fingers.

“You're a um... An omega?” I asked, scared to say it. I actually... Wasn't sure if they were. Their scent was strange, a mixture between the smells that I had witnessed within all the Autobots. Ranging from harsh spices, to sweet and tangy, but theirs was just... Neutral. It made me nervous.

“Yes, ma'am.” They nodded, looking back out to the dark landscape.

I followed their sight with my own, looking out to the Florida Everglades and seen just how many fireflies were out. The crickets were on full volume, the frogs, toads, cicadas never stopping even for a moment.

“You... You don't have to call me ma'am...” I said, my voice shy and whisper like.

They did something I never would have expected from anyone I had known... They chuckled.

“Yes ma'am, I do.” They said back, reassuring me on something I didn't need reassurance on.

“I-I'm not... Um...” I looked down and pouted my lips, thinking on the right words. I didn't catch the thought, it slipped my mind too fast so I stood there, looking towards the ground in worry.

“How did um...” I had a new thought that came to mind, curious about it rather than worrying about being called something so spiffy. “How did you... Get here?”

“I walked, ma'am.” They answered simply, like it was normal for the Autobots to go anywhere on foot.

“Oh...” Was all I replied with, my sight going back to the black area.

There was a long pause in our short lived conversation. I could tell they felt nervous, either that or that was the normal heart rate for omegas... This was all too confusing.

“Would you like me to make you something to eat, miss?” They asked suddenly, making me, again, jump.

“O-Oh, um... No, I-I'm alright.” It was a lie, but not at that moment. I wasn't hungry anymore, the need for water or food erased from my mind the moment I heard the knocking. My nerves getting the better of me, I thought.

They hummed in response, and there was another long moment of silence between us. Bumper... I haven't heard that name before. Nor have I ever met an omega Autobot. I was curious... Perhaps a bit too much.

“You're um...” I struggled to look up to them. “An Autobot?” I asked this... Why? I wasn't sure.

“Yes, ma'am.” They said back.

“And-And an omega?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

I thought for a second on a question lingering in the back of my mind, trying to figure out how to go about asking it.

“How... How did you become one? A-An Autobot, I mean.”

They were quick to reply. “Oh, we don't speak of things like that to one another, miss.”

My mouth parted and I rushed my sight down. “I-I'm sorry, I-I didn't know...”

“Don't apologize to me. Ever.” I jumped when they darted their head to look towards me, their aggression showing out of nowhere and I put up my hands in defense.

“I-I'm sorry – I didn't –”

“STOP!”

I flinched backwards, taking a few steps away from them and silently apologized again. They noticed their demeanor rather quickly, and darted to correct themselves.

“I'm sorry. Forgive me.” They jerked their sight towards the flooring, their stature solider-like but head bent in shame...

Jesus, what did they do to them...

“I'm um...” I stopped myself mid sentence, cleared my throat and let out a small, barely noticeable sigh. “It's-It's fine... I'm use to being yelled at at this point...” It was a truthful answer, a rather depressing one, but they seemed to understand, their expression turning from shameful, frustrated with themselves, to slight shock.

“A type C? Being yelled at?” They were baffled by this, and I wondered why.

“I'm-I'm just another omega, I-I don't think being a type C would make... Much of a difference.”

“Are you kidding?! I would KILL to be a type C!” This seemed to aggravate them, a strange scoff leaving their throat at me, and my brows furrowed.

“Why?” I asked simply, not understanding how someone would want to be able to smell someone from a mile away. How someone would want to get the terrible pains in their stomach from heats, or hell, be sought after by every person they've ever met.

They scoffed again, “I dunno, maybe so I wouldn't be thrown in front of moving trains and gun fire...” Their voice lowered at those words. “I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't speak of my job like that... I know my role, and I respect it. I'm here for a reason.”

I went quiet for a moment.

“... What's that reason?”

They went quiet this time, thinking for a moment, and our eyes connected. They stared at me, flicking their darkened lights between mine steadily. They were either debating themselves mentally, or confused by my question, either way, they answered.

“To protect.”

#long post

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kaladinstormblessed09 · 2 months

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Okay, now that I’m more composed I wanna give my actual thoughts on Oathbringer. This is my favourite stormlight book so far, and I’m 700 pages into RoW so please no spoilers for that. Spoilers for Oathbringer down below obviously

Oathbringer focuses a lot more on Dalinar, but I'll get back to him. Bridge 4 gets their own pov chapters. Teft struggling with his addiction, Rock with his family, Skar not being able to take in stormlight, Rlain being alone amongst people who mean well but can never truly understand what he’s going through. I love this crew so much! The side characters shine in this book. Elhokar! I ended up liking him so much in it just for him to be brutally murdered right in front of his son. Moash even kicked the child. I was sobbing, I was so upset. He had so much potential. He was becoming a better king, a knight's Radiant. All for it to be just gone. And kaladin took that failure so personally. My baby. You can't always save everyone, but this is something Kal always struggle with. Moash even had the audacity to salute Kaladin, after murdering Elhokar!

Shallan just gets better and better in every book. I love how much she's improved in lightweaving. She was making her own little movie in Urithiru. I freaking love Veil. She's going around stabbing herself and getting arrows stuck in her head saying it's just a flesh wound. And everyone is rightfully baffled at her. I love her. I really loved her scenes with Wit/Hoid. It seems to me wit has a soft spot for Shallan. I love that Shallan and Adolin are married now! I love love love Adolin. Kaladin is right. You can't not like Adolin. He's got such sunshine golden retriever energy. Also, I love that Kaladin gave Shallan boots as a wedding present. LMAO.

Jasnah is the real mvp! Her just breezing through the final battle soulcasting her enemies was so fucking cool! She’s obviously the one who has the most control over their powers. When she decides not to kill Renarin oh man I cried! In fact I cried through the entire last 150 pages!

When szeth swoops down to save Lift and uses Nightblood to kill that thunderclast? When Lift tries to save szeth from Nightblood?! So many epic fucking scenes!

Dalinar really gets his avenger endgame moment with all the radiants! So so so cool!

And now speaking of Dalinar. So, Dalinar. How do I talk about him. He's probably the best written character I've ever read. He's your classic reformed character. His flashbacks when he was in his prime, being the blackthorn was difficult to read. But it shows you why the other country leaders are scared of him. And it's a legitimate worry. Now that the whole world is at the brink of an apocalypse, and he can save people no one trusts him because of his reputation because he used to be a war monger and a tyrant. and he knows that he can just do it again. He can be the balckthorn again and unite the world forcefully so they'll listen to him. It'll be so easy for him. But he doesn't want to do that. He's not that war monger anymore. And no one believes him. It's such good story telling. But after I read what he did to the rift, and to Evi, I didn't know how to root for him anymore. How do you root for a character who has burned a whole city down killing thousands of innocent people, including his wife. how do you root for someone who killed his own wife?? That's why it was so cathartic when we got to that moment between Dalinar and Odium. Odium telling Dalinar to just give in. Give him all his pain, and that he's the one who influenced him into doing bad things. telling him not to take responsibility. I thought Dalinar was gonna give in. He was gonna become Odium's champion and Kaladin would have to fight him. but for once Kal doesn't save the day. Dalinar doesn't give in. This is the best scene in this book, which is hard to choose cause this book is filled with epic scenes. "The most important step a man can take is not the first one. it's the next one. always the next step. You cannot have my pain. If I pretend I didn't do these things it means I can't have grown to become someone else. I'll take responsibility for what I have done. If I must fall I will rise each time a better man." It's about him taking accountability, acknowledging the wrongs of his past. it's about trying to be a better man. It's about forgiveness and doing better. People complain about the lengths of these books but we needed these pages to get that character development to get to this moment where Dalinar defies Odium. I love this book. this 1200 page behemoth and even than I wanted more. I’ve gone back to this sequence multiple times in the last few days. Even as I read RoW now I go back to reading that sequence. And I cry every single time.

In conclusion, Oathbringer was amazing. I can’t wait to finish RoW. Then I’ll only have the secret projects and TLM left until I’m fully caught up with Cosmere! I can’t wait!

#cosmere #brandon sanderson #oathbringer #oathbringer spoilers #stormlight archive #kaladin stormblessed #shallan davar #shallan kholin #adolin kholin #dalinar kholin #jasnah kholin #szeth son son vallano

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thebirdandthebee · 2 years

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In a Twist

I just can’t stay away from Bob smut. Here’s another request from the inbox, which is still open for TGM and The Bear requests!

The below is mostly smut and fluff - 18+ only!

Call me simple, but I just love the Bob-has-a-hot-girlfriend trope.

You’d spent most of the morning primping. Bobby was being awarded a commendation on base today and it was your first time visiting him at North Island.

You’d started seeing one another about eight months ago while he’d been stationed in Key West. Starting as friends, you’d met through your girlfriend, who was dating a sailor, Bobby had made the first move, something that both surprised and delighted you.

You’d been fortunate that for a majority of your relationship so far, you’d been in the same state. However, he’d been put on assignment in Miramar five weeks ago, and you’d missed him terribly. Your communication had been minimal and though you’d been aware when he had a work incident that landed him in the hospital, he reminded that even if you came to Miramar, you wouldn’t be able to actually see him.

Thankfully, you’d been able to text and FaceTime a few times since then, but you were thrilled when he’d sent you the invitation to the ceremony.

You’d flown in last night, renting a car and spending the first night eating room service and doing as many spa treatments as you could. You were smooth as a dolphin – hair recently highlighted, brows plucked and all nails buffed and polished.

Bob had been staying in base quarters, so you’d splurged for the suite for a handful of reasons: you knew he wouldn’t want to be sleeping in a twin bed again, and you’d now been celibate for six weeks. A twin bed with a roommate was not going to cut it.

You were grateful that Bob had emailed you all the instructions to get on base and where to go – it was slightly different than visiting him on base in Key West. You’d nervously tapped your fingers against the steering wheel after parking your car, your permit tag hanging on the rearview mirror and printed out invitation in hand. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d used a printer, much less asked for help printing something at a hotel.

Sliding the invitation into your clutch, you’d spotted a well-dressed family getting out of their car, and you decided to tag along so you wouldn’t have to walk into the reception hall alone. Adjusting your appearance in the reflection of the car door, you stutter-stepped in your heels to catch up to the family.

You were excited and nervous to see Bob – reuniting after being apart for the first time put butterflies in your stomach. There was a small reception first, then the ceremony, then another more informal reception – though Bobby said they’d likely head down to a local haunt instead.

There was a large gathering of people in the reception – probably 150-200 people, with a few aviators sprinkled in wearing their white dress uniforms. You felt like you were in for a treat, you’d seen Bobby in his service khakis and some of his more casual pants and Navy tees, but never these get-ups.

You lifted onto your toes, trying to see as much as possible past the crowd in your heels, but you weren’t gifted with height. There was a loud buzz of conversation and for a moment, you felt bad that Bob’s family wasn’t able to join today, but you’d not met them before and it would likely be sensory overload to have a reunion on top of meeting his parents.

“Hi,” your attention was pulled over your shoulder, met with the gaze of another aviator in his formal attire.

“Hi,” you smiled, dragging your attention back to the crowd, searching desperately for your boyfriend.

“I’m Bradley,” he continued. You smiled distractedly, offering your name before turning back to the crowd. “I’m being honored here today,” he continued. “For deeds of valor and bravery,” he added.

“Congratulations, thank you for your service,” you smiled. “Sorry, I’ve got to find someone.”

“Maybe I can help,” Bradley said, taking his hat in his hands, holding in front of him. “Who are you looking for?”

“Robert Floyd,” you said hopefully.

“Bob?” Rooster asked, “I don’t see the resemblance,” he added. “But yeah, I can show you were Bob is.” He shrugged.

You followed at an even clip, keeping up with Bradley’s long strides, hands clasped excitedly in front of you. Over by the organized aisles of chairs, and off to the side by the podium stood your boyfriend, speaking with another aviator, his own hands wringing over themselves.

“Bobby!” You called, immediately gaining his attention. You’d hurried over to Bob, whose smile was taking over his face, heels clicking loudly across the polished concrete floor.

Throwing your arms around his neck, you’d nearly knocked his hat off as he wrapped himself around you as well, hugging you tightly.

“Bob’s sister is smokin’ hot,” Jake Seresin commented to Bradley.

“You’re telling me,” Bradley scoffed. They both watched as you rocked forward on your heels, kissing him soundly.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Baby on Board?” Jake mumbled, looking at Bradley with wide eyes.

“I missed you so much,” you smiled, gently brushing some of your pink gloss off of Bob’s lips with your thumb.

“Missed you more,” Bob insisted. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you said, leaning up to kiss him once more. “Sorry, I’m getting makeup all over you,” you giggled, to which Bob blushed.

“I don’t mind,” Bob said earnestly. “C’mere, let me introduce you to my friends,” he said, lacing his fingers with yours and leading you back over to Bradley and a few other of the aviators. He introduced you to the group and you squeezed his hand between your bodies, legs crossed over in front of the other as the skirt of your dressed flowed about your knees. “Babe, this is Jake, Bradley, Natasha and Javy.”

“It’s so nice to meet you all,” you smiled, leaning further into Bob’s side, tilting your head toward his shoulder. “Congratulations on your commendation,” you added.

“And so how exactly did you two meet?” Jake asked, finger wagging between you and Bob.

“It’s an embarrassing story,” you blushed, as Bob slid his arm around your waist to the small of your back, squeezing your outside hip. Bradley’s eyebrows shot straight up into his hairline. However, you were saved by the bell as they began wrangling everyone to their seats.

“I’ll see you after,” Bob said, kissing you once more before he was ushered to the front of the hall.

Your eyes were brimming with tears of pride as you watched Bobby receive his award – looking so handsome in his uniform. This separation and trip had been a big milestone for you two, and you didn’t realize how much you’d been holding your breath until you’d seen him again in the flesh.

He already knew he’d be heading back to Key West after he was wrapped up here and you couldn’t wait to have him back in your apartment. You’d taken some days off of work so you could lay about the beach and do absolutely nothing together.

After the fanfare, you were reunited with Bob, who was happy to introduce you around to some of his superiors and other friends from this stint here in San Diego.

“Bob, you need a ride to the Deck?” Bradley asked, glancing between the two of you once again as people started filtering toward the refreshments table. It was clear the pilots didn’t plan to stay at the reception too long.

“He’s got one,” you winked, watching the blush crawl up your boyfriend’s neck. Bradley’s eyes blinked slowly, wondering if for a moment, he had forgotten how the English language worked.

“We’ll see you there,” Bobby nodded, fixing his glasses. Bradley wasn’t quite out of earshot when you turned to Bobby and asked discreetly if he knew a back way out of the hall. Bradley looked around to see if anyone else was seeing what he was.

Bobby led you out of the hall through the side building entrance and the moment the metal door swung shut again, he was on you like he’d been traveling the desert and you were a mirage of water.

“Fuck I missed you so much,” you laughed into his mouth, hands cradling his face against yours.

“I swear I missed you more,” Bob reassured you. “You look so beautiful, even more beautiful than I remembered,” he said sweetly, making you grin like crazy before he could pin you up against the building. “I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel.”

You blinked up at him owlishly, Bob still an inch or two taller with your heels on.

“I can’t wait till we get back tonight,” you said genuinely. Bob’s eyes cut all around and there were too many people milling about. “Let’s go to the car,” you tugged on his hand. He was happy to follow you back to the parking area. You tossed him the keys from your purse in time for Bob to wave at Bradley and Jake who already heading to the bar.

“Feels good to drive,” Bob said with a grin as he pulled out of the parking lot. You’d held his hand in yours. When you’d gotten off of base and headed down the highway along the water, you’d pointed out a scenic diversion that went down toward the ocean off of the road.

“Pull over,” you said, squeezing his hand in yours.

“Here?” Bob asked, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“Here,” you agreed. He followed instruction and the second he put the car in park, you’d tossed yourself at him in the front seat. “You look so good in your uniform,” you said, kissing him firmly. Your ass sat on the center console, fingers laced behind his head. Bob’s hands slid up your sides, making you squirm. “Bobby, please,” you begged, gasping for air.

“Sweetheart, get in the back seat,” He said, squeezing you gently. You didn’t need to be told twice, crawling into the back as Bob got out of the car before cranking open the rear door. Your feet dangled out of the opening, just above the ground as you reached up to yank Bob down to kiss you again.

“Please Bobby, I’m soaking wet,” you begged, watching the air leave his lungs at your comment. You reached for his belt, shakily unbuckling it and yanking his pants down his thighs.

“Panties,” he mumbled, reaching up your skirt, calloused hands skimming your soft thighs to grip the gossamer pink fabric between your legs, looping them tightly around his wrist like a ponytail holder. “Gimme your ankles,” he commanded, happy to have your shoes over his shoulders as he lined up his cock with your sex, pushing in slowly.

“Jesus fuck,” you cursed, bracing your hands against the driver’s seat and headrest next to your.

Bob let out a strangled gasp, hip shuddering into you.

“You’re so tight,” he huffed, eyes going unfocused for a moment. “Missed this pussy so much,” he added.

“Bobby,” you giggled, turning into a soft groan as he withdrew before pushing in once more. “God I feel like a fucking virgin,” you blushed.

“Baby,” he gasped, clutching your legs to his chest, “Christ it’s good to be home,” he groaned. You reached down, swiping a finger through your wetness before finding your clit, which was begging for attention.

“Bobby, give it to me,” you demanded, circling your clit hastily. “You can fuck me slow tonight, but right now, I need you to make me cum immediately.” Bobby was a man who took direction well, and today was no different. He anchored himself against your legs, pumping into you at even keel with his blunt tip hitting you exactly where it needed to.

“Missed you so much,” he panted. “Feels so good to be inside of you - was thinking about this for almost two months,” he groaned.

“Harder, Bobby, please,” you begged. Bobby complied, giving it as good as he could. He spit down onto his fingers, batting your hand out of the way as he swirled his fingers around your clit, giving it a firm press at the same time he pushed in, bottoming out inside of you. “Right there, don’t stop!” you sighed, hands gripping at the foam seats.

“You gonna cum?” Bob asked, sweat lining his skin beneath his hat.

“Cum inside me,” you all but begged, “please Bobby.”

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” he warned, and he held your clit hostage as his thrusts became erratic, his orgasm shooting off deep inside of you. He thrust gently through his orgasm, a strangled groan climbing from his throat as your sex clamped down on him, your knees shaking against his chest as you let out a loud sob.

As soon as you could remember which way was up again, you grinned blissfully.

“Welcome home.”

Bob leaned against your legs, his arms looped tightly around them as he hugged them to his body.

“Love you,” Bobby smiled back from between your ankles, making you giggle.

“You’re always so cute after you orgasm,” you commented, making him laugh as well, jostling you in all the right ways and making you gasp softly.

“Baby, you’re gonna get cum on your dress,” he commented quietly.

“There’s wet wipes in my purse,” you laughed, covering your face as you could feel his orgasm leaking out. A few minutes later, you were pinned up against the car once again as Bob kissed the breath from your lungs.

“We can skip the bar,” he insisted.

“No, you deserve to celebrate,” you insisted, straightening his collar. “But I am going to wear this hat – and only this hat – later.” You promised.

It was another three miles to the bar and you made Bob do several once-overs of your outfit to make sure you were all put together again before walking in.

“You look like a dream,” he reassured.

“Bob!” Phoenix summoned them to the back of the bar where the drinks were already flowing. His front-seater handed you a drink and you gratefully accepted it, clinking your glass against hers. Jake appeared at Bob’s side, extending another full beer to your boyfriend.

As Bob reached for the glass, his arm stretched, sleeve sliding up and revealing your panties twisted around his wrist to damn near all of his buddies.

“Mighty fine bracelet there, Bobby.”

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