#so it's possible that things just upset me less than other people and i should be using a different baseline

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 20

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: Welcome back.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

“Darling,” Jonathan enters the apartment as he always does. In the days since you got there, it’s all become routine. Almost too much so. “You called? Was my phone not in service?” 

You look up from the book borrowed from the shelf in the hallway. A thriller that’s less exciting than it genre may suggest. You fold your hands over the pages. 

“I haven’t heard anything. About my suspension.” You frown, “how about you? Have they said anything?” 

“Oh, fawn, you know if I do, you will be the first to know. And as ever, I will vouch for your innocence,” he nears and strokes your cheek as he looks down at you. “Forgive me for letting my pride drive me to such rabidity. It is only that cretin that makes me this way. The way he insulted you.” 

“Hm, I know, it’s just... I feel useless. I don’t want to be living out of your hand forever.” 

“Out of my hand? Darling, it is how these things work, is it not? One day, I might require your support, eh?” He tickles along your hairline, “you should enjoy the time you have to yourself.” He looks around, eyes narrowing as he scans the apartment. “My, my, this place is tidy.” 

“I vacuumed. Lit a candle. Did the dishes,” you sit up and close the book. “I’m terribly bored. Maybe...” you stand and take the novel under your arm, “I should start looking for a new job. I don’t think they’re going to take me back. I’m not like you. I’m not important.” 

He turns on you and crosses his arms, “darling, please. Firstly, you are not permitted to speak of yourself such. I won’t have that. Secondly, am I to feel worse than I already do? I would’ve gladly taken the slap on the wrist. I said as much in my interview.” 

You swallow and look down guiltily, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just... I don’t know.” 

“You should be getting ready for the rehearsal dinner. The wedding is just around the corner,” he girds. 

“Well, it’s Geri’s day. I just have to show up.” 

“And look as stunning as you always do. Have you made an appointment for your hair and makeup? That might cheer you a little,” he suggests. 

“I can’t... I can’t afford that. I can do my own,” you insist. 

“I can,” he counters. “I’ll ask around for recommendations and you’ll book something tomorrow before all the appointments are snatched up. Won’t you?” 

“If that’s what you want,” you shrug. 

His lips form a straight line and he drops his hands to his hips, “I want whatever you want, fawn, yet is seems even you do not know what that is.” He looks down with a solemn hum, “I wonder if you should even want me.” He turns away slowly. “I know you think of him still. You have such a deep heart, darling, and I shouldn’t blame you but it hurts all the same. I should be the only one.” 

“You-- you are. It’s just... It was just a crush,” you step closer. 

“Was?” He peeks over his shoulder, searching your face desperately. 

You nod, “yes. We’re together now.” 

He smiles. Just a little. He turns back to you and puts his hands on your upper arms. “I... I can’t tell you how lovely that is to hear you say. I am not so nervous anymore.” 

You flutter your lashes, “nervous? You?” 

He chuckles softly, “yes, of course. Why shouldn’t I be afraid that you won’t see me as I see you? You are my world.” 

His declaration takes your breath away. You stare at him. You don’t know what to say. You like him. A lot. But you can’t lie and say you feel everything for him. That you don’t still get a pang in your chest when you think of Colin. Even if you know what you should feel, you can’t force it. 

“I’m... trying my best,” you step closer. “I... I have a surprise.” 

“A surprise?” 

“Mm, well, like I said, I’ve been bored,” you grab his wrist and gently pull his hand from his hip. “Come on.” 

“Shall I close my eyes?” He asks playfully. 

“Don’t be cheesy,” you warn. “I was googling stuff about England and I found a recipe for a dessert. Um, sticky toffee pudding? It took me a while to get it right but I think I figured it out.” You open the fridge as you pull him with you. He stops before the interior’s glow as you point to the cake pan. “For dessert.” 

“For me? You made that? All by yourself?” He asks. 

You nod proudly as your cheeks tweak. “Yeah. I love baking but my place was never big enough and I know it’s not much but I wanted to say thank you.” 

“You mean to stab me in the heart,” he accuses and you flinch in surprise. “The way you are plucking on my heartstrings, I think I might completely break, darling.” He turns you to him and smirks down at you. “How have I been so lucky to come so far across the world and find the only treasure in it?” 

You giggle. He’s so sweet it hurts your teeth. It makes you feel worse for spending all day moping. 

“I’ll make dinner. I didn’t find any cool recipes for that though,” you say. 

“My darling,” he draws you near and the fridge shuts on its own, “you are all I need in this moment.” 

💔

The artist, Marissa, helps you down from the chair. You’re dizzy from reclining for so long and the pins in your hair jab your scalp. You glance at your reflection and blanch. You look like you but... not. In a good way. In a way prettier way than usual. 

She leads you out to the counter at the front of the salon. Jonathan stands as he sees you. You thought he might busy himself elsewhere. You’re surprised he stuck around that long. 

“Wow,” his blue eyes shine as he nears, “you look splendid. Not that you aren’t always immaculately gorgeous, darling.” 

Marissa giggles from behind the till, “aw, that’s so sweet. Is this the first family event for you two?” 

You nod as you face her, Jonathan’s hand hover behind your back as it so often does. As she worked on your hair and makeup, you managed to put in a few details about the dinner but were just as happy to let her gab. 

“It is,” Jonathan answers as he pulls out his wallet. “And a wedding right after. It will certainly be exciting.” 

“And you two... are the bells ringing for you soon?” She tinkles playfully and turns the pinpad to him. 

“Mm, well, that matter should always be a surprise, shouldn’t it?” He taps his card. “Thank you very much. You’ve done a masterful job.” 

“Thank you, sir,” she preens. “I hope you have a lovely dinner.” 

You smile and let Jonathan herd you away. He opens the door ahead of you and Marissa gives another swoony ‘aw’ as her coworkers whisper. You’re overwhelmed by all the attention, yet you’ve never had anyone jealous of you. It makes you feel special, albeit a bit guilty too. 

As Jonathan drives, you fidget nervously. You look at the time on the dash and chew your fingertip. He glances over. 

“Try not to mess your makeup, darling,” he girds. 

You rip your hand away and apologise. 

“You’re nervous?” He asks. 

“A little.” 

“Shouldn’t you be happy to see your family?” He wonders. 

“Umm, yes, but it’s just... a big event. Besides, it’s Geri’s dinner. I’ll just let her have her time,” you shrug and fold your hands in your lap. 

“Of course, but it won’t be too bad, will it? I’ll be there with you. I don’t mind if you hold my hand,” he reaches over and rests his knuckles on your leg. You twine your fingers through his. “I’ll need courage myself. Three sisters. Mother, father. I am outnumbered.” 

You squeeze his hand. You feel suddenly very selfish. He’s so cool and calm, you never once thought of how he might feel about it all. 

“It’ll be okay,” you say. 

“Yes, so long as we have each other, it will be,” he agrees. 

Back at his condo, you stand in indecision before the hangers. You’re not sure which dress to choose. You opt for the deep shade of midnight blue. Since it is an evening event, that would be more appropriate than the champagne. 

You step into the dress and pull the fluttery sleeves up over your shoulders. You reach back for the zipper but can’t quite reach. You spin in your struggle and as you face the door, you find Jonathan watching you with an amused slant in his lips. 

“Need help?” He prompts. 

You nod and give a bashful smile. You hold up the lacy bodice as he strides toward you. He wears a sleek pair of checkered grey slacks and a matching jacket, with a complementary tie with geometrics lines over a pressed white shirt. He is sophisticated and sauve and you still feel like that unwanted girl in her lonely apartment. 

You turn your back to him and he grabs the tab of the zipper. As he tugs it up slowly, his thumb tickles your spine. It sends a shiver through you. You spine to face him again. 

“Fawn, how do you only get more beautiful with each breath?” He says. 

“Oh,” you blush and sway. “Me? You look... great. Handsome.” You feel all mushy saying the words out loud.  

“Now, you are going to make me melt,” he purrs as he runs his hands up your sides. “Do you think we can cancel? Perhaps show up a bit late?” He winks and squeezes your hips. “That dress is doing something to me.” 

“Jonathan,” you smack his chest lightly. “No, my mother would kill me.” 

“Oh, Eugenia is a sweetheart,” he grins. “But I am a gentleman so I will have you there on time. So, let us not linger or my worst instinct may take over.” 

You shake your head, “just need to grab some shoes. Oh, and a purse.” You hang the other dress in the closet and spin around. You had a clutch... there. “Um, did you still have my phone? I can let my sister know we’re on the way.” 

“Hm, yes, but you shouldn’t need it with you. It is an event. We can’t be on our phones all night,” he chides. 

“No, I know, it’s just... I feel like I haven’t checked my emails in ages.” 

“Mm, alright,” he sweeps out of the room and you stand, a bit startled by the shift in his demeanour. You remind yourself that he might be anxious about all the new people. 

He returns and hands you your phone. You message Geri and your mother, just to be sure. You keep the cell in your hand and look at Jonathan. 

“I’ll put it to do not disturb,” you suggest. “Okay?” 

“Well, I suppose there may come an emergency,” he sighs. “I won’t argue. We haven’t time for it.” 

You flinch and tuck the phone into the clutch. You rub your lips together then stop yourself. You follow him from the room and stop to check your make up in the mirror hung in the hall. It’s still in tact. 

You step into your heels and bend to strap them on. Jonathan sidles around you, his keys jingling. Before you can stand, you squeal at the grope on your ass. You pop up and teeter on your shoes. 

“Jonathan!” You exclaim. 

“I’ve got to get it out of my system now,” he smirks. “Oh darling, I’m not sure I’ll make it through the night.” 

“If I have to, you have to,” you poke him. “Now please, no more. I can’t handle it.” 

“Oh, you cannot?” He chuckles and steps closer, drawing you flush to him as he scoops your ass in both his hands. “Not this?” 

“Jonathan,” you press your hands to his chest. “Please.” 

“Mmm, what if I was quick?” He purrs as he rocks you. 

“We have to go.” 

“I know, darling but I’m so very hungry,” he slathers down at your chest. “We can make an excuse. Traffic is absolutely terrible, isn’t it?” 

“Oh gosh,” you squeak and squirm, “I can’t--” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do anything, fawn,” he slides his hands down as he lowers himself to his knees. He tugs at your skirts as you cry out in shock. “I only want a taste... I’ll save dessert for after dinner.” 

He throws your skirt over his head and disappears beneath. He pulls your leg up and over his shoulder and you wave on one leg. He has you off-kilter as he nuzzles the front of your panties. He hums and it rolls through you.  

You grab onto the shape of his head through your dress and cling to him to keep from falling over. You couldn’t stop him if you tried. As all things with him, it’s easier to just let him do as he will. Besides, you are in no hurry to face your family. 

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

out of curiosity what's everyone's metric for deciding between a T and M rating on ao3? mine is that i ask myself "would i have been okay reading this as a teenager" but i also read a song of ice and fire for the first time when i was 14 and idk if that's like. the normal standard for what's appropriate for teens or not

[unheavenlyvision]

BAD ROMANCE.ᐟ

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: gojo satoru/reader

𝐖𝐂: 9.4k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your love life is in a tragic state, all your dates go poorly and just when you think you found a nice guy you could like, that ends poorly too. good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you !

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, cheating (not done by reader or gojo), dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting, praise, p in v sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, big dick!gojo, tease/mean!gojo (he likes embarrassing reader), jealous!gojo, gojo is down BAD, use of pet names, that's all !! (i think :3)

Checking the time again, you sigh, it’s bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now it’s practically been cemented.

Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, it’d be a shame to waste the reservation. Hope that your date is going to miraculously show up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.

Instead, you message Shoko, asking if she’s free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting… again.

You think you’ve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you don’t notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.

“I’m hurt you know.”

The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, you’re confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like he’s feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.

You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, “What are you doing here?”

He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, “My best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me… she messages Shoko? That stings.”

Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”

“What else would I be here for?” He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, “I’m here to be your date!”

Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, “How did you even know I was stood up?”

“I was with Shoko when you messaged her,” he shrugs easily.

You squint at him, “Why are you here and not her?”

“Because it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.”

So stubborn about the weirdest things, you’ve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. It’s silly, but for some reason… you don’t really want for Gojo to see you like this.

Sulking, you huff, “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t wanna waste the reservation.”

“Don’t lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up?” He frowns like he’ll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, “It’s a big deal.”

“You’re more upset about it then I am,” you play at indifference and while you don’t really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.

“That’s just ‘cause you’re always settling for less than what you deserve,” he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.

Defending yourself with a grumble, “That’s not true.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.

Crossing your arms, you snark at him, “Don’t patronise me, Gojo.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he still has that smile plastered on his face.

You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.

Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, “Anyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.”

Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, “You are… for other things.”

Catching onto your meaning, he asks, “So, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?”

“…Correct.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not really something I thought would matter to you this much.” The truth is, you’ve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though… that or you just brush it off.

Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, it’s not like he tells you about his.

His mouth downturns at your remark, “Anything that involves you matters to me.”

“It’s not like you tell me about your dating life,” you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.

“I would, if I had one,” he leans back into his chair more, “I’m not currently dating though.”

Sheepishly, you say, “Oh…well…I am.”

“I know that now,” his eyes focus on you, “Just how many dates have you gone on recently?”

“Recently?” he nods at you, “Uhm… a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but… frequently enough that getting stood up isn’t the worst thing to happen to me lately.” You laugh slightly at a memory, “You know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like he–”

You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isn’t experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. “Why is this bugging you?”

“It’s not,” his tone is certain but the expression he’s wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.

Challenging his logic, you ask, “Do you want me to tell you about my dating life?”

He thinks on it for a second, “No.”

Tilting your head at him, “See? That’s what I thought–”

“–But I want you to call me when things go badly,” his gaze even on you, unwavering.

“You’re annoying,” you huff out a breath.

His face brightens up again, “And yet I’m still your best friend.”

You can only roll your eyes at him because he’s right, he’s completely annoying and also completely your best friend.

★

After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you decided you would listen to him and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you weren’t relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, you’d tell him about it.

However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. You’ve actually found someone you wouldn’t mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. You’ve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, he’s taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.

It’s your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment, his assumed girlfriend yelling at him, you can see he’s just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. It’s that or you just have really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.

For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, “Wait no, please don’t go, this is just a misunderstanding!”

You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.

Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, “So now you’re cheating on me and trying to keep her here?”

He sputters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, “No! Babe, I’m not cheating on you!”

Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, “Listen, I’m going to be so honest, I think you’re a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. I’d just really like to leave now.”

He’s wearing an annoyed look on his face, “How do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.”

She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, “Now you’re offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?”

Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, “I’m just gonna… slide right past you.” Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, “Uhm… Just in case he tries lying to you… we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.” Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, “Bye!” You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.

The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and start heading down to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojo’s contact, you need a ride home.

He picks up pretty quickly, “Hello?”

You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, “…I need a ride home.”

“Well, good evening to you too,” he replies, voice full of mirth, “You know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, I’ve been told – by you actually – that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, so–”

“–Satoru.”

The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, “Where are you?”

You’re tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, “Some apartment, I’ll text you the address…”

“You okay?” He checks.

You can’t help the pause before your reply, “…Yeah.”

His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, “You gonna tell me what happened?”

It’s a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, you’ll tell him about it, “Later… I just wanna go home now.”

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before you get to thank him.

You text him the address and then head out the front of the building, waiting for him to get you. While you’re waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with him, you hope she doesn’t, she deserves better than him.

When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, you’re expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.

Turning your head to the side, “What?”

“Just making sure you’re okay.” His hands reach out and for a second you think he’s going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.

You mumble out at him, dismissive, “I’m fine.”

He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesn’t believe you even a little bit but he’s letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.

Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but he’s followed you into your living room. You don’t know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because you’re incapable of finding a decent guy to date.

Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, “Gojo, will you just be my boyfriend?”

He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, “What?”

Sighing, you cryptically answer, “I don’t think I’m built for the dating scene.”

When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once he’s sat, “What happened, sweetheart?”

Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, “Been seeing a guy for a couple weeks now–”

“–The same one?” Gojo cuts you off.

Humming out a, “Yes and–”

Again, he cuts you off, “–That’s pretty serious…”

I know but­–”

“–Why didn’t you tell me about him?” His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.

Becoming somewhat annoyed, you push yourself out of the cushions and sit up to face him, your legs still resting in his lap, “You said you didn’t wanna hear about my dating life.” You point an accusatory finger at him.

“Yeah, but casually dating and actively seeing someone is different–” He’s not really sure if he’s making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.

“–Does it matter?” You’re looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.

He’s steadfast in his opinion, “Of course it matters.”

“I don’t think it should, especially since–”

“–If you’re seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in him­–” He’s annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that he’s lost sight of his original purpose of being here.

“–Can you stop cutting me off!” You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much he’s been interrupting you, “I’ve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,” you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, “That’s why I asked you to come get me.”

“Oh…” He feels bad now.

“…Yeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t exactly feel safe.” You sigh, slumping, “And now I just feel really bad about dating.”

Completely serious when he suggests, “Maybe you should stop.”

“Stop dating?”

Consistent in his confirmation, “Yes.”

Meeting his gaze again, “How else am I going to meet someone?”

He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, “Why do you need to date someone now anyways?”

You don’t really see his point, what does he mean ‘why?’… why else do people date? “Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe I’m like every other normal person?”

“You have me though,” you’d think he was joking if he weren’t so straight faced.

Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, “Gojo… that’s not the same thing, we’re friends, we don’t look at each other that way.”

“Says you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’d date you in a heartbeat,” he folds his arms over his chest, “In fact, you’re the only person I want to date.”

You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, “Get real, that’s not what I meant.”

His head tilts at you, “What did you mean then?”

“I’m talking about romantic and sexual attraction,” you’re avoiding his gaze again.

So casual in how he bluntly asks, “You think I’m not sexually attracted to you?”

His question catches you off guard slightly, “It’s not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,” you shake your head, “if that were the case, I’d just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someone…”

He nods his head like he suddenly understands, “Ah, so you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?”

Disbelieving when you look at him, “Are you serious right now? We’re friends.”

“Yeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.”

How do you even respond to a confession like that? He’s not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how he’s just told you that he’s interested in you. “I don’t think–”

“–Are you going to tell me you’re not interested in me? Even a little bit?”

“We’re friends.”

“Is that the only thing stopping you?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “Because if it is, then it’s a little arbitrary, no?”

The beginning of a frown settles on your features, “What are you trying to get me to say? That I’d date you if we weren’t friends, that I’d fuck you?”

He smiles at you, “Sure, but if you would if we weren’t friends, I’m saying you should even though we are.”

Frown deepening, “You’re being serious?”

“I’m being so serious,” he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.

Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.

He sighs at your reaction, “You know, I’ve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe I’m an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.”

You had no idea he liked you, you’ve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that you’re finding out now he’s liked you the whole time, “What are you asking of me?”

“I’m asking you to give me a chance,” his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, “I’m asking you to seriously try dating me.”

You’re trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way he’s looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.

Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, “Gojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.”

“Like what?” He plays dumb.

“Like you really wanna kiss me,” you murmur back.

“Can’t help it…” he leans in a little bit more, “Maybe if you let me kiss you, I’ll stop.”

“Satoru,” you warn.

“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.

He’s making you dizzy, “I can’t make a choice when you’re this close.”

Humming at you, “Why not?”

“Can’t think,” you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.

He’s smiling smugly, “Then don’t.”

You don’t know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and they’re soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.

One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. He’s leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.

Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.

If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position he’s put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy he’s getting but when he’s finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he can’t really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.

It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it. If he had his way, he’d have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didn’t think he’d get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused he’s gotten over your lips on his.

Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, “Have you made a decision yet?”

You’re having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “I…uhmm…”

When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.

“Come on, don’t keep a guy waiting,” he’s taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.

“Okay,” you nod.

“Hmm? Okay what?”

Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, “Okay, I will seriously try dating you.”

“Can’t date anyone else while you do,” he conditions.

“Okay,” agreeing easily.

He adds, “Have to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.”

Again, agreeing, “Okay.”

“Have to keep kissing me right now,” smile growing on his features.

“Ok–” frowning at him when you realise, “–Hey.”

“You don’t want to?” His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, “Because you look like you want to.”

Pouting at him, “Don’t be cruel.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.

Leveling him with an even stare, you state, “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”

“Got a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.”

You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, “You don’t kiss like that’s all you want.”

His smile is crooked as he asks, “And how do I kiss?”

Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, “Dizzyingly.”

He breathes out an amused laugh before he’s slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you can’t think straight even if you really want to, which is why it’s probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you don’t want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.

Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, “Wait,” taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.

“What’s wrong?” He asks when you don’t continue.

“You need to stop kissing me.”

“Oh?” He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, “And why’s that?”

His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, “If you keep kissing me like that…” your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, “…I’ll wanna have sex with you.”

He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, “That worked up by a few kisses, huh?” Taunting you like he isn’t the hardest he’s ever been, cock twitching at your confession.

“Shuddup.”

His words are dripping with delight, “At least we know you’re sexually attracted to me.”

He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, “You’re a mean man, Gojo.”

“At this point…” He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, “…I think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.”

“We are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,” you’re trying to stay steadfast but he’s making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.

“So… you’re saying I should take you to the bedroom?” When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, “I’m just kidding, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, but I will point out – for the last time – that you look an awful lot like you want to.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I just feel like if you’re gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,” you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.

Abruptly, he states, “It wouldn’t be our first date though.”

“What?”

He’s a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when you’re pouting your lips at him like you are, “I count a couple weeks ago as our first date.”

“When I was stood up?” You scoff, “That does not count.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t even planned.”

“No but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,” smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.

Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, “We were still just friends then though.”

“So, we aren’t ‘just friends’ now?” He’s being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but he’s not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.

You return earnestly, “I don’t wanna count it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t meant to be you on that date…” before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, “…don’t get me wrong, I had fun and I’m glad you showed up, but it wasn’t planned to be you… when we go on our first date… I want it to be meant for you.” You’re unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.

He’s looking at you so intently and you’re worried you’ve upset him somehow, “I know you said I need to stop kissing you, but that’s what I want more than anything right now.” He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.

His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.

Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how you’re becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.

Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually – and somewhat purposefully – your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.

You both moan into the kiss and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, “Sweetheart, if you really don’t want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.”

Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, “But I like having you on top of me.”

A shiver runs down his spine, “You’re evil,” he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.

He’s been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.

“Satoru–” when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.

He hisses an apology through his teeth, “Sorry – fuck – sorry, what’s up?”

Deciding to be forward, “Take me to my room?”

Trying to hide the excitement from his face, he checks with you, “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you give a small nod, feeling shy.

You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesn’t feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.

When he determines that you’re sure of yourself, he’s off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that you’re off the couch, you’re thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.

“Someone’s eager,” you laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.

The chuckle he returns is humourless, “You have no fucking idea.”

You’re dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself, palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.

“Gojo, breathe.”

“Don’t need to breathe,” he smiles large at you, “Do need your pants off though.”

Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.

“You know… I’m hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,” he teases.

You grumble at him, “If you’re going to be like this the whole time then I’m changing my mind.

“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not with how you’re rubbing your thighs together.” His large hands grip your thighs, “Feeling horny?”

You don’t really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like he’d do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. You’re already so pitifully slick from kissing him.

Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, “Mhm, really horny.”

The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. Mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you don’t know what you were expecting if not that.

��Gojo, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” his eyes flick to yours, “Plus, if you wanna take me, you’re gonna need the prep,” smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.

Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, “You’re full of it.”

He’s not worried about your scepticism, “You’ll find out for yourself in a bit.” He shrugs easily, “Now, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?”

He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, “Ah! Do what you want…”

Oh, he looks so excited by your words, “You mean it?”

You’ll be honest and admit you weren’t really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin pricking at how you can feel his hot breath against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you can’t tell if you’re that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.

“Mhm,” you’re nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, you’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something – anything.

“These are some really cute panties…kinda bothers me,” he’s still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?

Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, “What?”

Eyes flicking towards yours, “I’m a bit of a jealous guy.”

“I know this,” he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning he’s liked you for so long.

He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, “Of course you do,” he fists at the material of your panties, “But the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these… has me feeling really annoyed.”

The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, he’s just ripped your panties off you completely. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.

“Hey! those were my good pair!” They were one of the nicer pairs you own.

“Who cares about that?” His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, “Your cunt is much cuter.”

God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, “Don’t be crude.”

“Hmm? …but I think you like it though…” his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, “Got so much wetter when I said it.”

He’s quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently he’s shamelessly staring at your cunt.

Continuing to speculate, he says, “That or you like being praised…” he smirks evilly, “You like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good you’re being for me?”

Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, “Hah– No…”

“Such a bad liar,” eyeing your face, “Wearing a really great expression right now though.”

Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, “Not lying.”

He ignores you, “Could be both though,” he’s continuing to ponder on what you react most to, “Which is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?”

You don’t plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what he’s doing. You see his smile before he’s leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.

He’s relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.

Huffing slightly as he says, “Asked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.”

“I don’t know,” your head lolls forward, eyes wet.

Head moving to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, “Shall we find out then?”

You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.

“You don’t gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,” his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. “Been doing so good for me, sound so pretty,” he coos at you.

Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.

He hums in thought, “So fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, creamy fucking pussy.”

You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.

“I think I’ve just realised something,” he glances up at you, “Got such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.”

You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, “Gojo!” You warn.

He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesn’t have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. “Trying to run away from me,” he tsks, “But you’re fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.” His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.

“‘Toru!” You call for him again, you feel like you’re on fire, beyond embarrassed.

He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, “I think you like both,” is his conclusion.

Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.

Dazed when he asks, “Ever been this wet, pretty?”

You shake your head, “No… I didn’t know I…”

Fingers moving yours to your entrance, “Poor thing, didn’t know how slutty her pussy was.” Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, “Fucking great though, in love with it,” and again, your brows raising in realisation, “Yeah… you know now, don’t you?”

“You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you pout, head dizzy.

“No, I’m making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,” he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. “What do you want from me?”

“Want you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,” his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.

“…Like it,” you mumble out.

Humming in thought, “Hmm, not good enough, don’t think I believe you.”

Repeating, louder, “I like it.”

Tilting his head at you, “You like what?”

“I like when you talk to me,” you say with more force, brows furrowed.

He pretends to be unsure of your answer, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, “I like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?” You huff.

“Holy fuck, yes,” if he weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them again.

You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, he’d be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard it’s aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he weren’t so completely distracted by how you taste he’d throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.

“Gojo! Oh–” His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.

Your elbows officially give out and you’re flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises he’s pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.

Gasping out at him, “M–more. Gojo – hah – more, please.”

Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. He’s worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.

A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.

He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, he’s losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.

“Need you to cum,” he sounds wrecked even to himself, “Before I do in my own pants – ffffuck –” Can’t help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, “Must’ve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?” He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.

Pressing out a simple, “S–so mean,” in response.

“You fucking like it,” eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, “Love it even,” he reminds.

A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.

“That’s it, sweetie,” he encourages, “Doing so good, just let go for me.”

You’re cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojo’s words. If it didn’t feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, you’d feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.

It’s not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he can’t possibly remember why. Not when you’re squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.

“Such a good direction follower,” he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.

His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.

“Look at that,” his voice dripping with glee, “I was right… got such a creamy pussy,” he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.

He wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs before standing, tugging off his pants and boxers before crawling up the mattress, leaning over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, “Can I take this off, pretty?”

Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, “Mhm.”

“You okay to keep going?” He checks, leaning in closer to you.

His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, “Yeah.”

“You sure–”

Cutting him off, “–Yes.”

Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.

Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like he’s memorising how you feel under his palms.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.

Confused as your voice calls for him gently, “‘Toru?”

“Fuck,” he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, “Alright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”

Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you don’t even talk back to him.

Your head cocks to the side at him, confused by his stare, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head at you, “You’re just really cute.”

He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.

You can’t help but stare, he wasn’t full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.

“It’s rude to stare,” he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.

Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, “‘M sorry.”

“Hah,” he huffs in amusement, “So polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?”

“Yeah,” you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.

It works, “Fuck– alright,” his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, “‘Bout to give you an even better one,” guiding his dick to your core.

Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.

You whine at him over it, “Please.”

Smile large as he coos, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll take care of you.”

Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didn’t give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.

“I can take it,” gaze determined as you try to assure him, “You can keep going.”

“Oh, sweetie,” his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, “I appreciate that,” he smiles, “I do… but you’re gonna want to pace yourself.”

You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably – definitely – sound advice.

“Hah, don’t pout,” his thumb moves to your clit, “You’ll take it, know you will,” rubbing circles into it, “Cause I’m gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.”

Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.

He’s not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, you’re suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.

Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, “I’m gonna – hah –”

Gojo realises when you clench down on him what you’re trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.

“Why? Why?” you’re almost incoherent as you ask him.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, “Would’ve cum if I hadn’t pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.”

You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way he’s getting the friction he’s desperate for.

“Such a greedy cunt,” he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, “So quick to cum for me, sucking me in.”

“Gojo–” you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.

His voice cracks at how you refer to him, “–No, no, nono, what happened to ‘Toru?” Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.

“‘Toru, you’re–” cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, “–so deep.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.

He’s pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me or something,” he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.

Without thinking, you admit, “I have – mmph – I’ve liked you mm–multiple times ah– at different points in – hah – our lives.”

His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, “Seriously?” When you nod, he grinds down into you, “Fuck– had me so stressed, liked you all this time and you’re telling me I could’ve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?”

You’re feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way he’s grinding into you.

“When,” his words are hurried, when you look at him like he’s just said something in a different language, he asks again, “When have you liked me?”

“I don’t remember that, too many – hnn – different times,” you shake your head, you don’t even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you weren’t split open on his big dick.

He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, “Enough that you – mmph – can’t remember specifics,” he groans, “Feels like a sick joke, been pining after you our – hah – whole lives.”

His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, you’re barely able to catch up to him before he’s talking again, “The most recent time– can you – hah – remember the most recent time you liked me?”

He’s desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesn’t really matter all that much right now.

“Not – hah – not that long ago,” you’re almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but he’s still only thrusting into you shallowly.

“When, sweetie, tell me when, please,” his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.

Struggling slightly as you press out, “B– before I started – hah – going on all those dates,” you’re trying really hard to think, “Beginning of the – hng – year?”

Smiling at you, big, happy, “Not that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.”

He’s a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t just told you about his feelings ages ago.

“Gonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,” he’s rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, “Remind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.”

“I’d like it if you moved, ‘Toru, please,” you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.

Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.

Your whimpered moans have Gojo’s skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, “Got such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuck–”

Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. “Gojo–”

“–No, I don’t know who that is,” he ignores your cry of his name.

Trying again, “‘Toru, want– I want–”

You’re not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.

Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe he’s just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.

“Feels– feels good, I–”

“Again? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,” he sounds so excited, “Want it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.” It’s almost like he’s begging you for it.

Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline begging, you’re cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. It’s coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.

“Fuuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, “Oh? You liked that, should’ve called you a good girl sooner.”

Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.

Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, “‘Toru, want it, please.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.

Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.

Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he lathes over it with his tongue.

He slumps down onto you, his weight too much, your hands push at him, “Too heavy.”

He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing you’re clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.

Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, “You look cute dripping with my cum,” he singsongs.

“Lewd,” you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.

“Yeah…” he gets into bed by you, “But I’m certain you like that.”

You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, “Not sleeping with you again until at least the third date.”

“I bet…” he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, “…You’ll sleep with me after each of them.”

You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.

𝐀/𝐍: this got away from me, like it so often does, it was only meant to be a couple k of only smut but i am not normal so it turned into this! i hope you enjoyed <3 thank you for reading!

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of unheavenlyvision

[scientia-rex]

Hey. HEY. We aren’t good at understanding how bodies work. I spent five years in undergrad (I was indecisive; graduated with six years’ worth of credits), two in my terminal master’s program, four in med school, and three more in residency. I know a whole lot about how bodies work. I am qualified to tell you that we don’t know a lot more than we do know.

This means that, when you encounter a claim, you need to weigh it against what you have experienced.

I have met doctors who were sure fibromyalgia, or “muscle hurty disease,” from the roots of the word, was just women being crazy. Turns out it’s probably at least partly due to autoimmune dysfunction. Or maybe not! Sure would be nice if we knew! But I sure as shit know it’s real, because I have it and so do the women in my family. Our bodies don’t work right, somehow. They don’t work like other people’s bodies work. I experience more pain than I “should” based on what stimuli other people find painful. I have less ability to build and maintain muscle strength. This has not kept me from doing what I love most in the world, which is have opinions, to the point where I went through the horrifically awful process that is medical training in the US just so I could have opinions all day long and get paid for it. I gain nothing from saying I have it, and in fact risk the opinions of my professional peers if I do admit to it, since it is still seen as a disease of mental or moral weakness. I’m perfectly qualified to self-diagnose, as a board-certified family physician.

And yet I believed people in positions of authority for a long, long time who said it was a mental illness and not a bodily one. As if those even can be distinct, when our brains are part of our bodies and our experience of reality is filtered through their circuitry. But I believed that I was somehow to blame for being in pain.

Life has been better since I accepted that I just need to do some things differently. If I lift weights, I need to use machines, I need to start on the lowest possible setting, and I need to increase very gradually. If I do cardio, I need a low-impact model like an elliptical trainer; running outside, every time I have tried it in my life, results in incapacitating shin splints, even if I try to work up slowly. I no longer buy laundry bins that don’t roll. My home is all on one level. I go to physical therapy. I stash freezer dinners that contain (shudder) vegetables, my least favorite thing, so that when I do feel like shit, I have an alternative to starving (or eating a block of cheese that upsets my stomach).

Accommodate yourself. This society isn’t going to help much, if at all. In your good times and days, be the person whose help you’ll need in your worst days.

[sanzaibian]

I should have known better.

You know, those highschool cliques ? The jocks, the nerds, the goths and all... Well, even though nowadays they might not be as clear-cut as they once were, I can assure you that they still existed.

You see, I'm a nerd. But when I say nerd, I mean nerd. Like the whole socially awkward, scrawny and ugly kind of nerd. Also the nasally always-right nerd with top notch marks that reminds the teacher he made a mistake kind of nerd. And also the loves DnD, fantasy and niche interests kind of nerd... well, you get what I mean.

Me being such a caricature meant that I was endlessly teased at school, and was senselessly bullied by the jocks. You know, these hot guys with always a girl in their pants, with big muscles and an obsession with looking good.

I hated it, I hated them, and suffered silently through highschool, until I finally saw the other side when I finally went to university. Although my first years were a bit messed up by Covid, when I was in the building actually studying applied chemistry, I finally wasn't bothered. No one was there to tease me, to bully me or anything else. I could finally live in the class without being bothered !

But, in my third year, Ethan, a guy looking like one of those jocks of old switched courses and came in my class.

I was shocked ! These guys are only good for being hot, playing sports, and entering hot girls' pants ! Not for doing some actual intelligent things like applied chemistry !

But he was even more annoying, that Ethan guy. Because he did not only take the courses I took. No, in fact, he was getting better grades than me. He's so good with polymers that he is the one who asks all the questions and corrects the teacher, not me !

So I tried to avoid him as much as I could. Even when he tried to befriend me, I just scoffed at him, sometimes even mumbling that he should go back to the football stadium. I also talked to the few acquaintances that I had made through awkward bumbling at how I felt he was dumb, and perhaps was only extorting some poor nerds for information to regurgitate in class.

And, one day, at lunch, I just had enough. Ethan and the polymer teacher had an intense debate just before the end of the class, a debate that I couldn't follow. My ego was struck, to the point that I just poured my heart out to the poor people sitting with me. I was seeing red, that day, and nothing could have stopped me... not even the fact that Ethan was there a few tables next to me.

I've since then heard that Ethan was very upset after my tirade, as he is always thought to be dumb due to his interest in being in shape and stylish, while at the same time, I was coming back home all happy to finally have given people a piece of my mind.

However, when I woke back up, I felt weird. I felt heavier, less agile and especially more groggy. As if I just couldn’t quite get up. There was also something cold on my chest that I couldn’t quite identify…

So I did the only logical thing and went to the bathroom to wash my face and properly wake up. But when I saw the mirror, I think what I saw woke me up immediately.

The man behind the mirror was not me. It was a jock – a hot one at that – with big muscles, trendy hair, chiseled face and multiple jewelry. Yet, there were still a few things that signaled me I was looking at myself : the jet black hair, the tan skin, the brown eyes and especially those small pimples on my right cheek and on my right… I guess I can call it pec, now.

I stayed in front of the mirror for quite a while, looking at each corner of my reflection. I couldn’t believe it, and after a long while, decided to just eat breakfast and forget everything that happened. It just isn’t possible.

But when I was going to my kitchen I couldn’t stop being reminded of how I changed. From my heavy step to the sound of my new necklace, and from the pecs I saw in the corner of my eyes to the weird feeling I still felt in my head. When finally reaching it, I was surprised when I didn’t go for my usual biscuits but rather for an apple… I must eat healthily, after all !

After finishing eating breakfast, I went to my closet, and rather than going for the button-up I usually wore, I went for a simple white t-shirt, and went for a jacket that I didn’t feel like closing, in addition to my usual jeans – all suspiciously fitting me well.

And with that, I went to university, set on finding who did that to me.

When I arrived, the weird feeling in my head hadn’t lifted, though I was dead set in finding who was responsible. So dead set that I didn’t notice people turning their head at my arrival. Nor my backpack shifting to only being carried by one shoulder.

After a while, I saw my class, and approached them with heavy gait, swinging my torso with every step like a typical jock. However, curses befell upon me when I opened my mouth and greeted my classmate.

“Yo, bro ! Doin’ good ? I just wanted to ask, bro, anything weird happened since yesterday ?”

I was shocked at how I said that, so much that I covered my mouth with my hand. My classmate was similarly shocked, and only shook her head negatively before excusing herself. Why did she flee like that ?

I clicked my tongue before looking at myself. How had this happened ? Why am I doing weird things ? Why am I talking weirdly ? I can think the sophisticated thoughts, yet when I voice them, they are filtered through bro-speech !

As I was melting down, none other than Ethan came in, smiling. Of course it was him, I shouldn’t have given the benefit of the doubt to him ! I have been only graceful and nice to him, and this is how he repays me ? By turning me into this… hot monstrosity ?

As the anger was rising, Ethan lead me to the bathroom, and there explained himself.

“You know, Juan, you’ve been insufferable ever since we started that semester. Always distrusting me, and making others distrust me. I’ve never know why you were always so angry at me, while you treated others with respect… that is, until you went on a rant yesterday.

- You fucker ! Turn me back right now, or you’ll wish you’ve never been born, you son of bitch !” I didn’t quite expect to be this foul-mouthed…

- Hahaha ! No, I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’s already so unexpected that my prayers were answered to, so you turning back ? No can do !

- Bro that’s not fair, I wasn’t bad to you, man ! You were the one being rude on my turf, bruh !

- So funny ! You now sound like one stereotypical jock in addition to looking like one ! I’m sorry, Juan, but nobody will ever take you seriously in a conference If you talk to them like that !” he laughs.

- Bro, just turn me back… I promise I won’t continue, man !

- What didn’t you understand in ‘No can do’, Juan ? the ‘no’ ?”

I roll my eyes, but he’s right… God that fucking angers me. I want to strangle that piece of shit !

“So, Juan, I guess, see you in class, if you even dare enter it…”

On that, he left. That day, I didn’t go to class, spending my time looking for information on what made me turn like that, until, like clockwork, at 5 PM I felt like I needed to go to the gym…

After a few days of searching and not finding anything at all, I decided to abandon the quest to find myself back and to rather learn to live with this new body. With Ethan stubbornly refusing to tell me how he did it and with my searches on internet only yielding weird fetish pages, I knew it was desperate...

I’ve since started to learn to cope with my strange occurrence, though it has absolutely wrecked my life. After having debated a while with the administration to prove I’m myself, I find my grades slipping, especially due to my newfound rudeness that mess up every single oral exam…

But at least, I’m hot now…

================================================

Hello, thank you for reading my small story, I hope it wasn't too bad !

Please do not hesitate to give me feedback - especially as it is the first real time I'm writing fiction in english ^^'

[olderthannetfic]

I'm a big mpreg and A/B/O fan who is wondering if anyone else has noticed the weird anti-abortion attitudes in a lot of mpreg and a/b/o? Like where you're "2000s Hollywood movies" levels of characters not even CONSIDERING abortion as an option for unwanted pregnancies (in a universe where this is possible and safe, and where it doesn't make sense with the character's characterization). I get why for plot reasons, abortion isn't as satisfying an end to a certain kind of pregnancy story as having the baby, same as it is in movies that do it. But you can write a character considering abortion and deciding not to get one in a way that doesn't make the option seem horrible and unthinkable or otherwise stigmatize it.

Or the number of people who seem to think abortion is such an inherently "traumatizing" topic that they need to content-warn for even a vague, offhand mention of it. It's one thing if it's graphic surgery or something - I'd probably want a head's up for that no matter what it was, at least in a story where I didn't see it coming - but just mentioning it at all? Abortion is a routine, safe medical procedure in places where it's legal. If you're doing warnings with abortion and no other medical procedures, you're reinforcing the anti-choice idea that abortion is inherently upsetting and sad. It's reinforcing abortion stigma. I've met many, many more people who've had abortions who felt happy about it and wish they could say that without having people treat them like a murderer, than I have people who had the "post-abortion regret" that anti-choice organizations talk about, and my experiences are supported by basically all the statistics about this that aren't from anti-choice political lobbying groups. It's especially egregious when people do this over an early, fully-elective (and legal and safe) abortion - a thing where patients having triggering kind of trauma is so low as to be statistically insignificant - but don't do it over related topics that genuinely contribute to a lot of PTSD, like miscarriage, infertility, adoption, and even fucking child death!!!!! I saw a fic that mentioned ALL of those things in someone's inner monologue considering what he should do about an unexpected pregnancy, but only the abortion part got warned for! Maybe some of that sounds nitpicky, but I personally know people who read fanfiction who like warnings for discussion of infertility/miscarriage because they have a lot of stress and trauma over unsuccessfully trying to have a child, and don't want to be reminded of that in their happy place.

It feels like a thing that's oddly underdiscussed when people talk about things in mpreg and a/b/o that would be kind of questionable to these same authors if they were to encounter it in stories about pregnancy where the character is a woman (like the stories where simply having a working uterus means you are inherently more nurturing or less ambitious or sweeter, or where getting pregnant suddenly makes you like that no matter how you were before). But if anything it's more common. I have to assume a lot of it's because a lot of people writing these were raised with more conservative ideas about abortion and then changed their minds, but didn't really question everything their upbringing taught them about abortions being always tragic or something that you should only do in extreme circumstances or whatever. Something you often see on Tumblr discourse about abortion, too, where people who claim to be "pro-choice" will come u with a list of reasons (disability, gender, just not feeling it, etc.) why it's "not okay" to get an abortion - not getting the point that forcing someone to carry a pregnancy they don't want is a violation of their body autonomy regardless of their "reasoning." The ableist woman who doesn't want a disabled baby still doesn't deserve have to a pregnancy forced upon her by the state!

I have to wonder if it's more noticeable to me because i wasn't raised that way at all, I had pro-choice leftist feminist parents.

Anyway long story short, I've never agreed with the anti take that mpreg or a/b/o are inherently sexist or anything like that. A lot of it is nothing like this! But it's common and I have to wonder if something working within a medium that's considered to be queerer and more progressive sometimes leads people to expose more of these attitudes than they might otherwise. Kind of like how you see a lot of weird sex-negativity in queer and fandom communities because people think merely being queer and in fandom means they can't be conservative, but they haven't actually questioned underlying sex-negative attitudes they have.... and so you get them being susceptible to anti and "kinks don't belong at pride" and such.

It's not inherently sexist, but I'm not sure it's inherently progressive, either? Not that it has to be. But I think my patience for anti-abortion stigma is, given recent big world events, at its absolute nadir lol

(sorry this is so long! guess i had more to say about this than i thought)

--

Too much American culture, maybe? IDK.

My mother considered abortions to be about like having the doctor remove a tick. I too find a lot of people's pearl clutching bemusing.

I always find it embarrassing in that bad writing OOC way when people don't include abortion where it makes sense or treat it as a Big Deal where it wouldn't be to that character.

However, I do usually expect mpreg fic to be kinking on "Ohhh nooo, now we have to stay together for the baby!" nonsense fantasies. It's one reason I dislike most of it. Given that, I wouldn't read too much into the plague of conservative anti-abortion vibes.

The fandoms that do more with A/B/O world building (giving the betas an actual role, etc.) tend to have more fic where they consider or even get abortions though.

[rainbow-femme]

Rewatching the animated Beauty and the Beast

-Right off the bat the thing in the opening that gets me is not the possible age implication but the fact that this prince is opening his own doors and to people he’s not expecting. You’re lucky it was just an enchantress looking to test the purity of your heart and not an assassin. Just power posing with the door fully open, no guards, going “Oh hey it’s someone I don’t know! I’m going to have a conversation with them alone” before god and everybody. Of course you got cursed, your guards should have rugby tackled her before she could get her wand out

-I never liked Maurice as a kid and I still don’t. Like he’s not bad he’s just annoying to me every time he’s on screen. The wind blows and he’s dying on the side of a cliff somewhere

-It is never not funny to me that Belle promises to stay in the castle forever and then just leaves three hours later

-I love Gaston having his whole “I’m going to get Belle’s father locked up so she marries me” scheme and then she’s fully just not remotely near the town. He’s living in a high stakes drama and she’s clapping along to dancing tea cups

-Hey when Maurice goes to look for Belle he grabs a bunch of rolled up pieces of paper and protractor. Is the idea that he’s just gonna invent and build something while actively walking? Sir you spent 6 hours in a dungeon and nearly died of being in a dungeon disease, you can’t help yourself out of a wet paper bag much less get your daughter out of anywhere with an invention you made out of rocks and sticks while clawing your way through the woods because you’re dying again

-But it is funny to imagine this revolving door of Maurice and Belle trading themselves for the other until the beast is just like “hey if I let you both leave will you promise to never come back”

-Belle is such a dick at the beginning it’s so funny. “Oh there’s one place in this giant castle I can’t go? I bet he’s hiding all the really cool stuff in there and I’m going to ignore his wishes and that of the staff. Oh no, consequences, the guy who said not to come here is upset I came here! Who could have foreseen this!”

-Like it’s not bad writing, it’s her character arc that she was mainly focused on herself and her interests and pretty judgemental of people who weren’t like her, so her disrespecting someone’s boundaries because she want to sets up something she grows from, and she learns to connect with someone else on their level even if that person is different from her and she learns that people are more than their surface appearance and even an angry beast has depths if you actually get to know them and see their view of the world, and connecting with people who are different from you enriches your life. Which is why when the townsfolk later try to kill the beast because he’s different we see she’s now understood the danger of that way of thinking and is horrified

-But that’s such a funny thing to do just immediately upon entering a castle owned by a big scary beast. Day one hour one she’s like “oh boy I know where I wanna go!”

-I don’t want to be a CinemaSins and point out how improbable it is that Belle got a giant unconscious beast onto her horse when he would be hundreds of pounds. But I do want to see the scene of her doing it. I’m picturing the horse sorta laying down and the beast is on the ground like a sack of potatoes and Belle has her back against him and is pushing with her legs to try and roll him over. Or she’s got her shoulder against him and is trying to push that way but her feet keep slipping in the snow

-Oh my god I forgot they told her about the library before the beast “gives” it to her. She was already allowed to go in there and knew it existed, “giving” someone a room they had full knowledge of and access to is very funny

-But you know what if he’s the kind of guy who thinks that will work and she’s the kind of girl it works on then they’re perfect for each other. Just two people with zero social skills bumbling around a castle together, making weird decisions and the other is like “wow they’re so cute and normal”

-I love the sweeping faux crane shot during the ballroom dance. Over 30 years later and that shit still slaps, more animated movies need to act like they’re being shot and edited like live action

-Maurice really can find a way to immediately die in any situation. When he’s at home he’s fine but the second he leaves the town border he develops tuberculosis and begins losing all function in his limbs

-I’m going to be honest with you guys, I’ve seen various versions of Beauty and the Beast and every time it’s the letting Belle go scene I have the same thought: I absolutely would not have read that social interaction correctly, I would have been fully under the impression we were all aware I was running an errand and coming back later. Because if I’m Belle, and I can live in the cool castle with a friend and people who are nice to me or a town I specifically stated not liking filled with a guy who is pushy and makes me uncomfortable and people who are mean to me and zero friends, I would not have been like “oh thank god I can finally go back!”

-“You should go to him. I release you, you are no longer my prisoner” See to me that reads “We are friends and I am removing this technicality between us so you can go run out and do something that is clearly important to you.” I would not have picked up on everyone in the castle thinking I was leaving forever. I’d just show up two hours later like “boy, it’s been a day, huh?” and the beast is just laying face down on the floor in his room listening to a sad boy playlist

-But the beast is clearly part dog so I guess it’s a normal reaction for him to have

-I don’t want to victim blame, but if you have a sick dad and are equidistant between “castle where everyone likes you” and “town where everyone is mean to you” and your dying father can be cured by a nap, I feel like it’s a bit on you if bad things continue to happen in the Bad Things Happen To Me town

-Not saying she should have anticipated a mob coming to incarcerate her father but I do feel like it would be expected that the people who have been mean to you and your dad would continue to be mean to you and your dad in the Everyone Is Mean To You and Your Dad town

-Because if the forced incarceration hadn’t been an issue, they would have gone to town the next day and someone would go “Hey Belle, your dad said you were kidnapped by a beast.” And everyone would point and laugh and he’d start waving his arms and going “It was the biggest beast you ever saw! 18 feet tall and claws bigger than my head!” and people would probably suggest that the guy they all call Crazy Old Maurice may be crazy and Belle would need to prove he wasn’t. I just don’t think we would have ended up with much of a different situation in any timeline that involves going back to the town

-Ok. So. If I live in a town. And I find out there is a beast within walking distance that is sentient enough to take villagers prisoner. And this guy is like “yeah he took me and my daughter prisoner, he’s terrifying!” I’m not saying I would have been part of the mob but I do think I would be worried about there being a beast and two people he previously kept prisoner living next door. And her saying “no he’s actually very sweet” would sound like those people with exotic pets who get their faces eaten by their pet tiger. Like yes they’re wrong but Belle also thought he was scary and violent until she’d been there a number of hours. I feel like if instead of giving herself up she went to town and asked for help and they created a mob to get her father back she would not have been against the idea so it’s not wholly their fault for having the same idea

-“Is it dangerous?” “No, no, he’d never hurt anyone” Every owner of a dog who wants to bite you so so bad

-So when Belle and her father are alone she is clearly telling him that the beast let her go and is kind. When asked about the beast by the town, Maurice starts yelling about how he’s the most terrifying monster in the world. Belle has to show the beast to back up her father’s claims to try and save him for the second? third? time. And then they’re locked up and she says “this is all my fault” and this man does not for a second contradict her or take blame at all. “Yeah I can’t believe you specifically caused this mess.”

“We won’t rest until he’s good and deceased.” I know there are only so many words that rhyme with beast but that’s such a funny line in a bloodlust song. I will not rest until this animal has been declared legally dead by the state

-“We will fight even though the danger just increased” I’m obsessed with all the words they had to use to rhyme with beast

-It’s so funny that this is canonically France and he is canonically a prince. They didn’t make him a duke or a lord he is directly related to the royal family and in the line of succession. Likely not the dauphin because they wouldn’t have sent him to run a castle in the countryside away from the center of politics so probably a younger son but still, this guy is part of the royal family. They didn’t have to explicitly state this is France but they do, and they reference the baroque period so it’s after the construction of Versailles. The beast is actively being stabbed to death while sentient furniture watches and at the same time his family are canonically pissing on the walls and floors of their own home

-Oh my god the beast is brooding on a chaise. Did he drag it over to the window just so he could dramatically sit on his chaise and stare longingly out at the rain? Absolute break up mood

-He’s also in a different outfit that isn’t the fancy one or his every day one, he went and changed into a breakup outfit. Important to note the breakup outfit includes a cape and what he was previously wearing did not. He chose to put on a cape as part of his breakup outfit

-So Gaston points his arrow at the beast. The beast acknowledges it then looks away. Gaston then fires and hits him and he reacts all surprised and angry that it hurt like my dude you let him shoot you with an arrow, what did you think that experience would be

-It is so wild that Gaston assumes the beast is in love with Belle. Like yeah he’s right but what a wild assumption to make when you’re not even sure this thing comprehends human speech. Again my thought would be he’s attached to her like a dog is attached to its owner, I would not see a big furry animal and be like “this thing is fully sentient and feels romantic attraction to human women”. Yeah he’s wearing clothes but still that feels like a leap. Pointing at a dog in a sweater following its owner and yelling “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

-The beast’s arc is partly him controlling his temper, and we see him want to kill Gaston but controls himself and lets him go, immediately resulting in his own death. Gotta be honest I feel like less self control would have been helpful in that specific scenario

-I didn’t remember the blood spray after the beast is stabbed followed by the stab wound bleeding a good amount of blood. Are there other Disney princess movies with onscreen blood? I think in Mulan we see blood oozing out through clothes from an injury but that’s the only other one I can think of. Eugene gets pretty bloodlessly stabbed

-Best scene in the movie: The beast floats up in the air, actively transforms into a human in front of Belle, stands up, says “Belle, it’s me!” She then squints at him, touches his hair a bit, squints at his face, and when she recognizes his eyes she goes “It is you!” Ma’am what the hell else did you think was happening. If you didn’t recognize his eyes would you have just been like “Hmmm I dunno…”

-Ok so at the end there is an entire royal court watching them dance. Again I don’t want to be a CinemaSins I just want to see the missing scene. Like did he explain what happened to him? If yes then again I want to see that conversation of him explaining to his family how he was literally transformed into a literal beast for the last ten years and they had no idea this was happening to their family member. If no, imagine just going back to being a prince after 10 years as a beast and you just have to pretend like everything has been normal this whole time. I want a sequel that’s just the human beast reintegrating not only back into society but French royal society, which was notorious for having some of the most intricate and complicated social etiquette in all of Europe

-The final shot is a stained glass window of them with a prominent rose. Now in the original he had a whole rose garden he was very attached to, so that makes sense. But I feel like this beast specifically would have only negative connotations with roses and that window would probably be seen as a little tasteless given the circumstances. “It’s a rose! You know, the physical manifestation of a curse that was clearly quite upsetting for you for nine years and roughly 360 days, reminding you daily of your flaws! Isn’t that fun?”

“Original score by Alan Menken” Look up his IMDB, if you live in at least the US this man has written the score to your entire life

[0liver-hope]

if you love books, save a library!

I hear people on Tumblr talk a lot about the importance of libraries; now’s your chance to help save one!

At Vermont State University is a newly merging Uni in so-called North America, pushing together three previously separate universities: Castleton University, Northern Vermont University, and Vermont Technical College.

Just last week, the new VTSU administration sent out an email to faculty, staff and students announcing that all the libraries at each of the 5 campuses contained within these universities would be moving to an ‘all-digital’ model. Librarians will lose their jobs if this plan goes ahead; in fact, librarians were only informed of this change 11 minutes before the email was sent out.

We have come to understand that this means that all physical material will be removed from the library. They seem to want to do other things with the space, such as set up ‘a coffee or smoothie bar’ and determine ‘what students want’ to do with the space. This plan would go into effect on July 1st, 2023.

The fact is, students want to keep the library as it is. Quiet, and full of stacks and stacks of physical books. The administration cannot claim they are listening to students when we have demonstrated, via hundreds of emails and impassioned testimonies in front of the administration at a forum last week, that we hate this plan and oppose it vehemently. And the faculty and staff are with us, and they too have been speaking out. Not only that, the communities that surround these colleges greatly value having access to a research library, particularly in rural Vermont, and are opposing the plan as well, because, as far as I know, they will completely lose access to these resources if everything goes digital.

The image of the books above are what I just checked out today. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed browsing the stacks, in one case (not pictured above) finding a tiny book of Milton’s poetry inscribed with a reader’s name and the year 1865. So many important and precious books like that one are to be found in our library. Each book I checked out hasn’t been checked out for at least 10 years, and that’s one of the administration’s excuses for taking all our books away: that circulation is down, and that, somehow, it costs money to let books sit on a shelf. As many people have rebutted, though, just because books aren’t being checked out doesn’t mean they aren’t being read within the library and, most importantly, it doesn’t mean that they don’t have value.

Below I will post some links to various local news article on this subject as well as one radio broadcast that will probably be able to articulate this situation better than I can.

I’m just so angry and upset about this. I’ve seen students and faculty alike crying about this situation, and an old lady braver than me telling the administration that maybe they should consider lowering their own salaries before taking away our books. I think everyone here feels powerless, because the administration isn’t backing down, despite all our protests, because ultimately their goal is profit and to make sure that this new ‘equitable’ University makes as much money as possible.

At the Castleton forum, the president of the University said he was ‘deeply humiliated’, by the outrage, by the heckling, the ‘throwing of verbal tomatoes’ as I have taken to calling it, by having his and his fellow’s bullshit exposed and questioned.

Please, please, if you care about books, about libraries, about the problems with big tech and the way it continues to invade all our lives, replacing physical experiences with their more hollow, less engaging counterparts; if you care about the interests of the people triumphing over the interests of capital, about students, about education, then please -- help save our books by spreading the word however and wherever you can, by flooding the inboxes of the capitalists below; tell them how you feel about this decision and its larger implications for books and libraries in general! Not so much to convince them that they’re wrong (they already know that and don’t care), but to make going forward with this plan more of a nuisance and a PR nightmare than cancelling it would be.

I don’t know if anyone will read or see this post, but please if you do and you care, reblog, educate yourself on what’s going on, and take action if you can.

A few disclaimers:

Any specifics I mention pertain primarily to what I, as a student at Castleton University, have either heard via word of mouth or seen with my own eyes. I am not officially speaking on behalf of anyone but myself.

The only exception to all the physical materials being removed from the libraries seem to be the books deemed ‘most used’ and some valuable historical collections. This was not clear from the beginning and not yet fully clear in any further specificity.

please try not to use violent rhetoric - as much as I’m not into policing people’s speech and anger, I don’t want this to backfire and I don’t want them to crackdown harder on us or make a big stink about it if they receive those kinds of messages

Email addresses of administration officials responsible for this decision:

VTSU President Grewal: parwinder.grewal@vermontstate.edu

VTSU Provost Atkins: nolan.atkins@northernvermont.edu

VSC Chancellor Zdatny sophie.zdatny@vsc.edu

VSC Board of Trustees Chair: Eileen “Lynn” Dickinson eileen.dickinson@vsc.edu

News articles + broadcast:

https://www.vermontpublic.org/show/vermont-edition/2023-02-10/vermont-state-university-president-on-move-to-all-digital-libraries-changes-in-athletic-programs

https://www.rutlandherald.com/news/local/castleton-community-protests-vtsu-library-cuts/article_100d9539-c6ca-569e-a9b9-ecd6b3cef0ad.html

https://vtdigger.org/2023/02/08/vermont-state-university-to-close-libraries-downgrade-sports-programs/

http://www.castletonspartan.com/2023/02/12/vtsu-library-plan-sparks-outrage-and-emotion/

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Idk why but I'm so over dealing with people!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You swipe away another phone call. You have at least a dozen missed. Let them buzz in your pocket for another few hours. You try not to think about it as you turn your attention back to the plot before you, the tight foot by foot square, and continue to gently sift through the dirt. You stop only to make notes on the map and examine the odd bit of animal bones you find. 

Bzzzzzz. The constant vibration in your pants makes you anxious. You should put it to silent but keep forgetting. Whatever. You’re busy. Whoever it is will have to wait. You know who it is. He’s been calling for days. You’ve been ignoring him just as long. 

You should pick up. You should be there for him. You should be happy for him but your heart feels rotten. Years of pining and you can’t pretend any longer. Not after the party. Not after seeing him on his knee for another woman. That’s it. That’s the seal on the envelope. The dream is crumpled up and in the bin. 

He didn’t even notice that you left early. You don’t think anyone did. You spent all those weeks planning and fretting and laying awake at night and for what? To pretend that it could ever be all for you?  

You sigh and sit back on your heel, one leg bent under you as you rest your arm on your other knee. You blow an insect away from your face and push your hat back. The sun beats down, offering great light for the excavation but less than ideal temperature. 

“Eh, there you are,” Arturo waltzes up in his round tinted spectacles, “find anything good?” 

“Nah,” you shake your head and shrug. 

“You know where you’d find something amazing? Norway,” he smirks, hands on his hips. “So... you thought about it?” 

“Mm, yeah, been thinking,” you utter dully as you look up at him from under the brim of your hat. “When do you need a decision?” 

“The sooner the better. The grant proposal is all but approved, we just need a name on that blank line,” he says, “this could be really good for you. No, I know it will be good.” 

“Right,” you nod and stand up, dusting off your tan pants, “I know you said you weren’t sure but any idea how long? I’d have to worry about my apartment and telling my family...” 

“A year. That’s about right,” he proclaims, “could be longer but I’d plan for that.” 

“A year?” You wisp as your chest deflates. You put your hand on your pocket as your phone buzzes again. “Wow.” 

“You really want to spend another year in the city sweating for crow bones?” He asks. “Not trying to push you but these opportunities don’t come along often.” 

“Norway,” you suck your teeth and angle your chin as you think, “viking stuff?” 

“Possibly, could be an early Christian settlement too. How about I send you the proposal and you give it a look?” 

“Sure, I... I guess I should.” 

“It’ll all be taken care of; accommodation, travel, stipend,” he lists off with his fingers. “I know it’s not Ireland like you wanted.” 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure him, “I’ll keep thinking.” 

He winks and grins triumphantly, “tomorrow. I need to know tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” You echo back in a hollow murmur. 

He’s already walking away. Your phone starts to shake again and you growl. You shove your hand in your pocket and rip it out. Your gloves smear dirt on the screen as you press the red button. You pause before you can drag your thumb over. You inhale and push your finger the other direction. 

“Bucky,” you answer in confusion. He wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t an emergency. 

“Ah, there you are kid,” Steve’s voice comes in place of the expected timbre. You hiss. “You avoiding me or something?” 

“Uh, no,” you reply thinly, “I’m working,” you rub the back of your neck with your other hand, “it’s been busy and I’m sure you’ve been running all around with... everything.” 

You can’t bring yourself to say it. Wedding. Ugh. He’s getting married... to her. 

“Well, Peggy’s doing most of the planning, really. I don’t know,” he chuckles crisply, “you know, more a lady’s thing. She’s already knee-deep in the engagement party. Maybe you could give her a few pointers.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” you grumble as you bring your hand forward to rub your thumb with your index, scratching away more of the dust. 

“I didn’t get to say thank you. Again. That party was amazing. It was perfect, kid.” 

“Steve, we’re the same age,” you gripe at his pet name. 

“Yeah, but you hate it so much,” he teases. 

You can’t smile. Even as your cheeks pinch, you can only grimace. You drop your arm and close your eyes as you push your head back. 

“She loved it. I did too. We’re so happy and you made that happen--” 

“Steve, why are you calling? I’m buried right now,” you huff. 

“You are? I thought you’re supposed to dig stuff up--” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Well, you missed Opening Day so I thought maybe you’d wanna come watch the game. Sam’s doing his famous nachos and Bucky is... coming.” 

You hear the very man mutter in the background. Great, you even have an audience. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had you on speaker. Why would anything between you ever be intimate? 

“Tonight?” You wonder, “you sure you’re available?” 

“Me, I should be asking you,” he scoffs, “come on, how long’s it been since we’ve been apart a whole week?” 

“Work...” 

“Can you dig in the dark?” He challenges. 

“Steve,” you sniff, “I’m tired...” you feel your heart sinking. You feel bad. You never say no to Steve. It’s not easy. You tried but he’s right. You can’t remember the last time you didn’t see him at least every other day. “Fine, twist my arm.” 

“Good,” he chirps victoriously. “I wasn’t looking forward to driving up there and digging you out. So, seven?” 

“Seven, right,” you agree. “See ya then.” 

“Don’t make me come find ya, kid.” 

You hang up and cringe. You don’t even like baseball. It was just another personality trait you took on hoping to be close to Steve, hoping he might realise you’re destined to be together. Well, that’s not true. You’re just stupid. It took you too long to grow out of being that stupid college girl fawning over the blond hunk in his coed sweater. 

Still stupid, still alone. 

💟

You never show up empty-handed. Even when you were a poor sophomore. So it is that you delay the inevitable by stopping at your favourite local bakery. They’re closing and you get the eclairs for a discount as they’ll be on the day-old shelf in the morning.  

The owner, Marigold, knows you and puts in an extra one. You leave a tip as you listen eagerly to her rambling story about her granddaughter’s first soccer practice. Usually, you would be checking the time but today, you got more than enough. Finally, she sends you off as she turns off the sign. 

Fine, you’ll go. 

You find a visitor’s spot behind Steve’s building and linger in the car. You eat the extra eclair to keep from crying. Sugar is good for clogging up your tear ducts. You wipe your mouth and make yourself get out of the car. 

As you wait in the lobby for the buzzer to pick up, your insides squirm. You’re not ready for this. You’re not ready to face the truth you’ve been running from. The one you know you can’t deny any longer. 

“Hey kid,” Steve unlocks the door without awaiting a response. It’s typical; you have your patterns. Those little rituals are all going to end. 

You go through to the elevators and contemplate taking the stairs as you wait. The doors open and you step on, facing your reflection in the mirror doors. Your pants are still filthy from working in the dirt, your shirt is stained with your sweat, but at least you remembered to change your shoes. The elevator dings and you nearly let the doors close again before you can find your strength. 

You walk down the hallway and knock. You can hear their voices through the door. Steve opens it from within and gives you a strange look. 

“What’re you knocking for? You know you can come right in.” 

“Yeah, sorry, tired, long day,” you babble out the lazy excuses. “Here.” 

“Oh, nice,” he takes the box of eclairs, “you weren’t lying. You look exhausted.” 

“Ah, you really know how to talk up a woman,” Sam interjects as he appears in the doorway further down the entryway, “it’s a wonder Peggy said yes.” 

“Shut up,” Steve throws back as he turns to head back to the kitchen. 

You take your time in pulling off your shoes and sense Sam lingering, watching as you meander. You clear your throat as you stand and head down the hall. He nudges you as you step into the doorway next to him. 

“Where ya been?” He asks, “these jackasses have been driving me nuts.” 

“Work,” you repeat again, “lots going on.” 

“Right, yeah, now that you’re not spending all your time planning someone else’s girlfriend’s birthday.” 

You give him a sharp look and he shows his palms. You shake your head. He’s right. You wasted all that time. You’ve wasted years. All for nothing. 

“Fiancee, now, I guess,” he adds. 

“Yeah, the happy couple,” you snip and step into the room, “so we watching the game or are we giving him another pat on the back.” 

“What? You’re not excited? You’ll get to be a bridesmaid or whatever. Since I’m best man, I’ll be sure to save you a dance,” Sam chuckles. 

“You? Best man?” Bucky sneers from the couch where he slouches and flicks through a motorcycle magazine, “don’t think so, bud.” 

“Oh, you don’t think I’m better than you?” Sam challenges. “Let’s race for it.” 

“You cheat,” Bucky growls. 

“No, I have strategy,” Sam counters. 

You roll your eyes. Wedding talk, already. The exact thing you can’t handle right now.  Bucky sits up to glare at Sam as he closes the glossy pages. You let them argue and posture at each other. 

You leave the room and let yourself onto the balcony. The fresh air is chilling. You shiver as you step up to the railing and look across the city. You take in the skyline, each window, each peak, each speck of a car on the streets below. It feels so grey. Like it’s the last time you’ll be standing here looking over it all. 

Maybe it is. 

💟

You sip from the bottle of beer as Sam nearly drops his nachos off his lap in excitement. He hollers at the screen as Bucky gives him a look. Steve shakes a fist at the second base run. You’re happy enough to tamp down the heat of the peppers with the wheaty ale.  

Sam rights himself beside you as Steve reaches forward to set down his plate. He grabs the square of paper towel folded on the coffee table and wipes his lips. He sits back and slings his elbow over the armrest as the next batter takes his place. 

“So, how do you guys feel about a destination wedding?” Steve asks. 

You clamp your lips tight and scoop up more fixings with a chip. Sam swallows loudly as Bucky shrugs. No one says a word. 

“Peggy asked earlier. I wanted to do it at a cathedral here. Just how I always pictured it,” Steve says. 

Yeah, that sounds like him. He likes old-fashioned and elegant. Everything Peggy is and you’re not. Makes you wonder why she wouldn’t want the same venue. 

“Back home?” Sam wonders. 

“England? No. I suggested that and she was not into it.” 

“Somewhere tropical?” Sam prompts again. He’s at least trying. You’re too sick to open your mouth. 

“Sure, that’s what I was hoping,” he smiles, “especially if it’s a winter wedding. The date... yeah, that’s a big deal too. You know, I thought the ring was a pain.” 

You keep your head down, hoping the pain doesn’t show. Not only did he propose to her, he kept it from you. You’re best friends and you had no idea. How much had you been through with him? He had you plan that whole party but he couldn’t tell you that?  

No, no, you’re being dramatic. You’re friends. He doesn’t owe you that. It’s between him and Peggy. His future... wife. Ugh. You can’t even imagine that happening. You try and try but you just can’t stomach the image. Peggy in white, Steve in his tux, and you just standing, watching. 

“I can’t come,” you blurt out abruptly. 

“Huh?” Steve blinks and flinches as if he’s been slapped. 

Sam angles beside you to squint at you and Bucky’s brows pop up. Another silence, this one deadly. You’re suffocating as you search for words. 

“I won’t be here.” 

“Well, yeah, like I said, it’s gonna be somewhere else. You don’t even know when it is,” Steve blusters as his face creases in disappointment. 

“I’m going to Norway,” you blather and nearly choke at the realisation of what you said. 

“Norway?” Sam repeats hollowly. 

“Yeah, uh, work... offered me a grant contract and I’ll be going to Norway. For at least a year. So... yeah.” 

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Steve blinks rapidly, “how-- when were you going to tell me?” 

“I’m telling you now,” you push your shoulders up, “I just found out.” 

“You can’t...” Steve begins. 

“That’s awesome,” Sam speaks over him, “hey,” he nudges you, “that is so fucking cool. Norway. Vikings and shit.” 

Bucky nods and gives a thoughtful look, “rains a lot.” 

“So I’ve heard,” you utter dumbly, not sure how to respond. “I got a lot to do before then so I might be a bit absent.” 

“Don’t even worry about us,” Sam insists, “you need any help at all...” 

Steve stands up suddenly and slams his bottle down. Before you can speak, he twists on his heels and storms across the apartment. You stare after him as he disappears into the next room and you hear the balcony door slide back then snap shut just as quickly.  

You grip the beer bottle tight and look down. You didn’t think he’d be mad. You’ll be out of the way. He can get married and be happy. 

“What a baby,” Bucky grumbles, “can’t be happy for anyone but himself.” 

“Well, you are his best pal,” Sam snipes, “birds of a feather.” 

“So that means I’m best man,” Bucky intones mischievously. 

“No, it’s not best buddy, it’s best man--” 

They continue their banter and you get up. You put down your chips and beer and leave without notice from the bickering couple. You near the balcony and look through to Steve as he leans on the rail, his head down. Gently, you slide the door open and step out. 

Only the wind blows as you come closer to the railing. He roils in the cool evening air. You take a breath as you come up next to him. 

“Sorry, it’s... a good opportunity.” 

“No...” he drones, “I’m happy for you. I just... I can’t imagine my wedding without you. Or my life.” He lifts his head to look at you. “What am I going to do? You’re supposed to tell me what bowtie to wear and how to do my hair.” 

“Peggy can do all that,” you cross your arms, “Steve, I can’t pass this up. If I stay in the city...” you let your voice trail off into the wind. If you stay, you’ll have to watch his happily ever after while yours never comes. “I’ll never do anything.” 

“I know,” he dips his head again, “I’m proud of you. Really. But I’m going to miss you.” 

Your cheeks tauten and your throat clenches. Your voice is creaky as you speak, “I’ll miss you too.”  

He’ll miss you but he’ll never love you like you do him. 

[partmathpartmagic]

"Give me six months"

This is a chapter from a longer fic that you can find here. It's a letter from Astarion, written over the course of six months immediately following the defeat of the Absolute. The premise is that you two are taking some time apart after the main events of the game so he can figure his shit out a bit. I love his friendship ending because he's so happy and proud of himself, but I wish it were possible to have that and the romance as well, so this is me making that happen.

Darling,

It’s been 3 days since you saved the world. I can hear you objecting to my phrasing, so let me rephrase: it’s been 3 days since I saved the world and you were also there. Better, my dear?

This is very irksome, you know. I thought I’d make it more than 3 days without being so desperate to talk to you that I write a bunch of sentimental words down for all the world to see. And even worse, it would’ve been far less than 3 days if I’d been able to find any parchment in this godsforsaken city (we could have just let it burn, darling, no one would blame us!).

Frankly, I’m rather upset with you. Yes, I’m actually making up my mind right now. You don’t deserve a letter from me, you’re too lovely and too brilliant and too beautiful and you make it impossible to live without you.

I’ve decided to help out the spawn in the underdark. There. That’s all you’re getting from me.

______________

Perhaps I was a bit hasty. I apologize.

That’s something I’m working on doing more of, apologizing. I am getting quite a lot of practice, spending every day with people I seduced for… I’d rather not write his name, actually. But you know. People I seduced in order for him to turn and torture and starve and imprison them for a century or two.

As such, I am becoming an expert at apologizing for things no one could ever really apologize for.

If I was in a better mood I’d make a joke about how I’m spending time with thousands of my exes and you should be jealous. You’ll just have to imagine how hilarious it would be, and then pretend it’s not funny even though you’re smiling, and then roll your eyes at me like you always do. I even miss your exasperation. That’s… horrible. This is horrible.

I know it was my idea to go off and figure things out on my own but I’m beginning to suspect I’m the stupidest elf to ever live.

I can’t tell anymore if I’m being funny when I talk or if I’m just being mean. Is that how other people feel about me, that I’m mean? I think it probably is. Maybe I don’t want to be mean. That doesn’t sound right. I think I’m okay with being mean, I just want to be doing it on purpose.

You’re always so kind, but you have your meaner moments, don’t you? Gods, you’re so terrible with children. The things I’ve seen you say to them. They all think you’re dreadful. That’s something at least.

You see, I find it easier to bear your absence if I pretend your presence isn’t the best feeling in the world and everything you do isn’t perfect. I’m never able to pretend for very long, but I get a good couple minutes each day where I convince myself I’m scandalized by how you talk to children and not completely enchanted by it, and I miss you just slightly less.

_______________

It has been one month since we saved the world. I miss the sun almost as much as I miss you.

My siblings have actually made quite a bit of progress with the spawn. They’re talking about starting a school for the younger ones. It’s very strange. I hope they don’t become good people or we’ll have nothing to talk about anymore.

I had a chat with Sebastian this afternoon, which was also strange. He said, “it must be difficult seeing our faces day and night. Torturing yourself isn’t going to change anything for us. You’ve apologized; you might as well go figure out your next move.”

I think he’s just sick of seeing me and wants me to leave, but he found a kind way to say it.

But he’s not wrong to assume I have no plan after this. I might head above ground tonight and explore the city a bit, see if anything inspires me. I haven’t breathed spore-free air in what feels like years.

I think I could be okay with not having the sun if I had you. Having neither seems… unfair.

I suppose I deserve a bit of unfair.

_______________

2 months. Some very strange things have happened.

Firstly, I did take that walk. I very purposely avoided the part of the city where I heard you had settled, and then of course wound up walking right past a house that apparently belongs to your sister. I thought she was you for a moment and my heart stopped. Metaphorically, anyway.

I don’t love how much it destroyed me looking through a window and seeing someone I thought was you holding a child and kissing a spouse. Which is to say that it completely destroyed me even as it made me happy seeing you apparently happy.

I’m adding this experience to my list of reasons why forming attachments with other people is actually a bad idea and never worth it. I also have a list of reasons why attachments are good and worth it every time, which has only ever consisted of one item, which is your name. The good list wins every time, a fact which has also made its way to the bad list. No one person should have that much power!

If I’m not allowed to ascend, you’re not allowed to make me love you. It’s just as bad. You're drunk with power, darling, and it's time someone called you out on it.

Gods, you’ve completely distracted me from my point. Anyway, after I finally remembered that 2 months would not have been long enough for you to grow and birth and raise a toddler, and after I looked into the window once more and realized your sister does not actually look much like you at all, and also after I looked at the mailbox and saw your second name with a different first name, I pieced things together. Not quickly enough to keep your family from noticing the crazed vampire staring in their window, I’m sorry to say. Do give them my regards.

But after that, I ran into someone I recognized from the palace. One of the butlers, I think, or a general thrall. He was so excited to see me that he stopped me in the middle of the street and started calling me “Master” and babbling about having the carpets cleaned, so I said “strange man, what the hells are you talking about??” And he told me I was the most senior spawn still living and as such… have inherited the estate.

Now, I know this is difficult to believe given my refined manners and, well, my hair, but I’ve never actually owned a palace before. Much less one where I was trapped and tortured for a couple centuries. It’s a complicated situation. Everything is still very much in the air, but I wanted to tell you, and this is how I tell you things now. I will update you once I have an update.

_______________

I adopted a cat. I ran into Halsin on one of his supply runs into the city and he had His Majesty from Last Light with him. Apparently His Majesty had been picking fights with children (and more power to him, I’m sure you’d say), and I remembered his regal little face and volunteered to take him in without a second thought.

We are still… feeling each other out. But I gave him his own room in the estate, which I think he appreciated. The cat, I mean. Halsin doesn’t get a room.

I also do not have a room in the estate, as I am unwilling to set foot inside the building until it has been completely gutted and cleaned and the dungeons walled off permanently. Strangely enough, our old friend Barcus sent me a great team of his people to handle the renovations. Demolitions, as you can imagine, have been smooth, if a bit too enthusiastic. The gnomes have also been very nice about the whole vampire thing and willing to work nights whenever I need to be there to make decisions.

On a related note, I’ve added another item to the long list of crimes Cazador committed: laying carpeting over completely gorgeous vintage wood flooring! Murder and torture is bad, but that’s a whole other level. Thank the gods we got that criminal off the streets.

(Did you notice I wrote his name out? And then made a little joke? I think I’m rather proud of myself for that)

For the first time I’m glad we’re spending this time apart, because truly all I can talk about is tiles and paint samples and upholstery and you’d probably stake me within a couple days of being in my presence and it would be absolutely justified.

I ache for you.

_______________

3 months.

I have been thinking about my lists. I think, perhaps, it’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, making them the sole positive attachment in your life.

I say this because I’ve been spending time with His Majesty to help him acclimate, and a gnome worker commented the other day that I’m the only living creature this cat will tolerate. It made me so sad, thinking of this lovely, affectionate cat who is only ever lovely and affectionate with me. Everyone else’s experience with him will always be negative. I’ll be the only one who’s sad when he dies, and people won’t even be sympathetic to me because they’ll think, well, he wasn’t very nice anyway, good riddance.

It seems like we at least owe it to our loved ones not to leave them alone with their grief when we die.

And no, my love, I did not see the parallels to any vampire with which we are acquainted, at least not until Halsin came by to check on him on his way out of town and I gave him this whole monologue. And then he just sort of stood there looking at me until he very gently hinted that perhaps there are other people who would be willing to love the cat “if he’d just show them his belly instead of his claws.”

At that point I just thought he was hitting on me, but after he explained a little further I finally got what he was trying to say.

Which is how I ended up wine drunk with Halsin last night. We have… a surprising amount of things in common. It was disconcerting.

He also offered me some sort of mysterious substance from his pipe which I politely declined, and it was only after this that he told me a friend of his had smoked it just the night before and it had sent them into a panic attack. So if Halsin ever offers you his pipe, darling, just say no. Given your already nervous constitution, and I say this with love, you’d be absolutely fucked.

Speaking of drunk! You may be wondering how I’ve been keeping myself fed. Some of the Sharess employees have picked up on the increased demand from all these newly-free vampires and have started offering blood drinking as a service, but I’m hesitant to drink from another humanoid. My siblings think I’m being a stick in the mud, but I’ve heard them talking about people they’ve tasted and none of them sound anywhere close to the experience of drinking from you. I feel as if I’ve only ever tasted the most exquisitely aged brandy and I’m being offered tiefling wine as a replacement. I just think it would break my heart.

That said, non-vermin animals have offered a surprising range of flavors. I’ve found I’m partial to owlbears. Something about the risk makes them taste better, I think. Sort of earthy and vegetal? Not bad. In the alcohol metaphor this would be something akin to a local brew. Still a downgrade, but different enough that it doesn’t sting as much.

My good list has 3 names now, by the way: you, Halsin (this was a wine decision, but I’m allowing it for now), and His Majesty.

_______________

4 months? I think?

Listen darling, I’ll just get this out of the way: I’ve had many glasses of brandy. What’s that you say? How many is many? I stopped counting at six, my dear!

You know sometimes I think, absence is absence makes the heart grow fonder. And then I think of you, my blossom, my peach, my absolute tadpole (workshopping that one but i like it), and I think, well fuck. Maybe I’m making it up, maybe she’s not as wonderful as I remember?

And so I thik of all your worst qualities, and I concentrate so hard on them, and my love, my petal, my sweet corn, do you know what happens then? I can’t even think of any

OH wait, that’s not true. That thing when you talk and you have a bubble in your throat that you haven’t swallowed and your voice comes out weird and it makes me want to set myself on fire

Also you’re so hard on yourself, it drives me up an absolute wall. I just want to grab your shoulders and shake you and yell “be nice to my girlfriend”

And then grab other things and shake them…?

I’m far too drunk to be seductive, but just imagine me saying some absolutely filthy things in your ear right now in that voice you like. YOU KNOW THE ONE. Gods, I can’t wait to use it on you again.

I just waaaaant. I want you here so bad all the time.

I want your smell and your touch and your skin and your everything everywhere on me and around me

And… in me? Cheeky, darling. I’m not saying no, but now’s hardly the time

Love and like and cherish and worship and want, a.

_______________

No one has ever felt this ill before and no one ever will again.

I refuse on principle to take back anything I wrote last night, but let’s all agree to forget the corn thing, shall we?

And that cheeky bit at the end–really very unbecoming of you to take advantage of an incapacitated elf like that. Again, I’m not saying no, just. The timing really makes me think less of you, love.

_______________

To be honest, darling, I’m running out of things to say. Six months is a month away and I’m trying so hard not to just watch the clock all day (well, all night).

Has this time been worth it? Nothing is worth this, but if I put aside the heartache, it’s been amazing. I truly never thought I’d be able to become… whoever it is I’ve become.

When the tadpole happened, I saw hope for the first time. I thought I’d finally have control over my life if I had control over the tadpole. If I had control over everything. I honestly never saw another way.

It’s a testament to you that you saw all of this coming from the beginning. You looked at me, this open wound oozing hurt and fear and anger, and you saw a person. You thought I was funny (admit it) and clever, and worth getting to know.

You gave me the space to say no to you, and loved me regardless.

I don’t think I’m nearly as powerful without you, darling. But over these months I’ve accomplished things I’m proud of all on my own, which is fairly unprecedented.

I’m beside myself with excitement to see you again, to give you a tour of this place. You’ll like what I did in the bedroom. And that’s not even a line, I genuinely think you’ll appreciate the color palette! It reminds me of you.

And maybe if you like it we can engage in some mutual appreciation, if you know what I mean.

I don't, but maybe you do. My pickup lines have gone all to shit without you, my muse.

My good list has several names on it now. Yours is still at the top. But you're not the sole thing keeping me afloat anymore. I thought that would make me feel distant from you in some way. I never realized it would give me even more space to appreciate you for who you are instead of what you provide.

Knowing I don’t need you gives me more room to want you, I think.

Anyway, I’m not sure I have another one of these installments in me. Thank you for reading this far, if you have. The version of you who is sitting at your kitchen table reading this (that’s a guess but wouldn’t it be funny if it was right?) has been my companion for all these months, and I cherish her as I cherish every other version of you.

A.

_______________

Sending this today.

I want to be clear, I don’t expect anything. I didn’t ask you to wait around pining for me for all this time, and I wouldn’t have wanted that anyway.

So if you’ve moved on, if you’re happier where you are, if getting this letter ruins your day–it’s alright. I will miss you, maybe forever, but I have friends and a new line of work and a handsome son (to be clear I’m referring to His Majesty, I didn’t give birth since the last time I wrote). All of these things will keep me afloat.

However, if your heart and your life still have room for me, and if you think I would improve them with my presence, I will be overjoyed to share all of these things with you.

I want to meet your sister and hear you try to make conversation with her toddler. I want to show you everything I’ve done to update the estate, and I want you to make it feel like home just by being there. I want to hear all of your thoughts on Jaheira and Nine-Fingers and speculate on their love life.

I want it all, and I want it all with you.

See you soon, my love.

[scrubbinn]

Slime HRT: ??? Months “Your choice”

“There you are! I was getting worried, your directions were awful for finding this café.”

“We both know I suck at directions, hope you didn't get rained on too much. Sorry for making you visit me over and over. I remember you said you’re not a fan of Hyper city”

“You know I like the rain, and this place makes it easier to visit you anyway. Now lemme just get the seat closer to you…

So how are you hun. Is the recovery going alright? Have you gotten any memories back?”

“A couple, yeah. I remember the name of that other slime I met a while ago. Sandy I think.”

“You think?”

“Memories are hard, please don't push me.”

“Sorry. Well it's good that you're healing, and you're not taking that stuff again right? 

… right hun?!”

“I'm not, I'm not. Tomorrow is the last day I have to wait before I can legally take it again. Right now I'm just wondering if I should wait longer or not.”

“Don't do anything that isn't safe hun. I know this means a lot to you, I can't say I know what you're going through, cause I'm not a therian or otherkin or whatever like you. But please be safe, I don't like worrying about you… What's that on your phone? You're clearly hiding it.”

“It's nothing, I'm just running a poll, I want to see what the internet would do in my circumstance.”

“Hun!…”

“I'm not going to make my decision based on what random people have to say. I'm probably not even going to post it. I mean it's a pretty cool, textbook grey choice. Survive less happy than I could have been, or risk everything to finally feel normal and free… Please don't look at me like that.”

“You sound a lot happier about one of those choices hun, and it makes me scared.”

“...Y'know I've actually been thinking about moving into Hyper city. Roommates are ok with it as long as I give them a few months to search for a new place. We could also visit each other whenever. There's still a lot of problems here, but it still feels like there's less discrimination here than back home. I even have a good idea for what I want to do here! I'm studying to become a psychiatrist and work for Dr. Erian. He could really use someone who has a positive amount of bedside manners. There's a couple other doctors there but-

“I thought the plan was for us to live together?”

“...We will, when things get better back home. At least here it's easier for us to see each other, and I don't have to pretend I can't hear people whispering I'm a freak. At least, not as much. Nothing's changed long term.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure, you don’t have to worry, everything is going to be fine. I’m not going to do anything stupid, but I don’t think it would be a bad thing if I started my HRT again after tomorrow. I know I can regain my memories slowly, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“There is a problem! You think it’s fine if you forget everything? Look, it's great that some of your memories are back, but that doesn’t mean all of them are gonna come back. You’re being reckless again. Your life isn’t something you can keep tossing around without expecting us to hold you down. Hun, you need to stop hurting yourself.”

“...I’m not hurting myself. I’m just trying to live my life. I don’t want to upset you, but you have to realize this is the most important thing for me right now. If I mess this up, then nothing is going to go well. I understand that you’re scared, but please think about how I feel. I’d be having heart palpitations if that were still possible. This choice needs a clear head to figure out. I don’t think either of us have that.”

“Maybe. You’re going to be fine right? You won’t die from this or anything right?”

“No, I’m not going to die. The doc made sure it’s going to be safe at this point. We just have to hope he’s wrong about the side effects, and before you go saying he’s a trained endocrinologist, you haven’t met him, and I don’t even think he knows all that much. Trust me, you’d realize what I mean if you met him.”

“But he knows more than you do hun.”

“Ok, yeah, but it’s clear this is still all new to him too. He’s never been right about when any of the changes will happen or what the side effects would be. He made me sign an NDA about slipping into a three day coma. He’s clearly more afraid his medical license will be revoked than any actual permanent damage he’ll inflict."

“Aren’t you breaking that NDA right now?”

“I don’t have to listen to that. Besides, as long as the internet doesn’t hear about it, then it’s fine. It's not like you're gonna shout this conversation to the rooftops… don't actually tell anyone else, I'd rather not get in trouble again.”

“So, where are you staying anyway? You said the houses here are pretty expensive right? Do you have enough savings to find a place?”

“There's a non-profit place called T.H.E.M.S, they can find me a place to stay while I try to find a more permanent residence here. They have an on-site doctor too, so you don't have to worry even harder now.”

“Hey, you can't fault me for worrying about my girlfriend! That's good there's going to be a doctor nearby. I'm glad. Stay safe hun.”

“I will, don't worry. Now come on, less talking about depressing medical stuff, more pictures of tiny foods! Right now I want to show you the cute cupcakes this place has!

“Oh they’re shaped like little dragons!”

“It's so cute, right?”

...

Click… Post sent!

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Mention list: @a-shramp , @calliecwrites

Thanks for reading slime HRT so far. It's been so much fun for Navi to write and we hope you enjoy it. This marks about a third of what we plan to do. If you're confused about the terms Hyper city or T.H.E.M.S you can check out information about them. Pretty important since this is gonna be the location for the rest of the series. Anyway, thank you for reading. It means the world to us. bye-bye!

-Sweetheart💖

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 6)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (6)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Jordan and YFN were comfortably spread out on the couch, an array of snacks laid out on the blanket they were sharing. YFN hadn’t told Jordan about her interaction with Lucy yet, and she was a little worried about doing so. The last thing she wanted was for Jordan to feel like she was less important. She still had no idea what was happening, and the fact that she was just on a spontaneous holiday sat in the back of her mind, but she kept it back there. She didn’t have a job or worries, she knew that she might meet people along the way who would be meaningful in her life. She was already so close to Jordan that she couldn’t imagine being back across the other side of the world from her, let alone whatever she had with Lucy. Was Lucy just looking for a quick fuck because she knew YFN was only here for 2 weeks? She ignored that thought, knowing that whatever was happening between them was far more than just a casual fling. But was it even possible to have more? And did they both want that?

She internally groaned. She hated overthinking things, it just wasn’t her. She was much more care-free than that. She happily pushed all of those thoughts aside and reminded herself of her motto. Whatever happens, happens. As long as she maintained respect for herself and those involved, she would happily be involved in whatever this was with Lucy.

Jordan nudged her foot as she texted. “Luce said the dinner party’s done and she has some gossip. Would you mind if she comes over?”

Yes, please. “Not at all.”

“Excellent. She’ll be here in 5.”

The restaurant was much further away than that, so she knew Lucy must have already been on her way. Oh, she was excited.

Five minutes later, Lucy knocked and entered without permission. Jordan didn’t seem phased, this must have been a common thing with them. Lucy found them in the living room looking quite comfortable on the couch.

“How’s the food poisoning?”

“I think all of these snacks have made it worse, to be honest.” YFN laughed.

Lucy’s eyes widened at the amount of snacks covering the two. Jordan saw this and defended them. “Don’t judge us, we’re feeling our emotions.”

Lucy laughed and gave a little leap over the couch to sit on YFN’s free side. She kicked her shoes off and YFN lifted the blanket they shared, pulling it to cover Lucy’s legs also. Lucy loved the thoughtfulness and stretched her legs out. Jordan threw a few different snacks over to Lucy.

“Are these sad or happy emotions?” Lucy asked.

“A bit of both,” YFN shrugged. “Subject to change with your gossip.”

“Ah,” Lucy didn’t have much gossip. She really just wanted an excuse to be around her. “Well.. when you left Leah asked me a few questions. She wanted to know who YFN was and where you were from, whether you two were in a relationship-” her finger gestured to the two of them.

“-wait,” Jordan cut her off. “She was jealous?”

“Mmn.. maybe a little to be honest. And protective.”

Jordan scoffed. “She has no right!”

“Oh I know, but feelings don’t just disappear that quickly…” Her extended foot touched YFN’s under the blanket which caused her body to flinch but Lucy noticed she didn’t move away. Jordan didn’t notice. “She still cares for you, Jords. You know that. She was upset, she just wants to talk to you. From our conversation she seems to miss your friendship.”

Jordan was quiet.

“You know you miss her friendship also,” YFN said softly as she leant over to squeeze Jordan’s hand.

“Argh yeah, you’re right, I do… but YFN and I have been talking a lot and I think I just need my space. I can’t give her what she wants right now.”

Lucy nodded. “Maybe you should tell her that..”

“Well I planned to tonight but I just couldn’t. She took me by surprise when she came over and I wasn’t ready.”

“Maybe… maybe it would be easier to text? Face to face is better but I think she’ll understand a text, Dory.”

Jordan sighed and nodded. “I’ve been thinking the same to be fair. Can you help me?”

“You mean can I do it all and you proof-read?” YFN chuckled. “Anything for you.”

Jordan gave an exaggeratingly toothy grin and tossed her phone over with a loud air smooch. YFN wrote out a message she thought would be sufficient. Lucy watched her little face concentrating as she quickly wrote.

Leah: Hey, I really appreciate you trying to have a chat with me tonight, and I’m sorry I wasn’t really responsive. I’m not going to throw all of my baggage onto you, but you need to know the basics. The truth is that I really haven’t been doing well after losing you and then deciding I had to leave Arsenal. Being left off the England Squad was the nail in the coffin for me. I played tough but it hit me harder than I realised, harder than anything has, really. I will always love you, you’re an incredible human being and an even better friend. I did hear what you were saying tonight and appreciate that you want us to be friends, but I just can’t give that to you right now. I don’t have the capacity. I’m working on myself and will continue to do so. I hope when I’m a bit more healed and feeling like myself that you’ll still want to be friends and we can go back to that. I miss our friendship.

I’m sorry I couldn’t say all of this to you tonight, I’ll admit I chickened out.

Take care of yourself Leah x

YFN read out the message to them both. God, she was good with words, Lucy thought.

Jordan also seemed impressed. “Can you add ‘I’m really lucky to have some good friends around me’ please? She’ll worry otherwise. Well, she’ll worry regardless but it’ll make her feel better.”

YFN nodded and added it in. She gave the phone back to Jordan who sent the message, then took a deep breath and threw her phone to the other end of the couch.

“I’m really proud of you, Jords,” Lucy stated softly. The emotion in her voice was evident. YFN didn’t like seeing Lucy upset and she brushed the back of her hand up against Lucy’s under the blanket. They both twitched at the contact and then hesitantly hooked pinkie’s together. They both smiled and relaxed.

“Thanks Luce,” Jordan said, tired. “I feel so much better already.”

The trio sat silently and continued watching their movie. With the stress of that burden now eased off her, Jordan fell asleep in minutes, her little body curled up in the corner of the couch, her mouth slightly open. The other two were very aware that their feet and pinkie’s were still touching.

“Can we talk?” Lucy whispered to avoid waking Jordan. Her head was leaning back on the couch and she was staring at YFN like she had been for the past few minutes. YFN had been too involved in the movie to notice. She broke her eyes away and found Lucy’s face. Lucy’s face was welcome sight and she had a very vulnerable look in her eyes.

“Sure… this is my favourite movie. Do you like it?” She whispered, cheekily avoiding a deeper conversation.

“The Taming of the Shrew?”

YFN’s eyes lit up. “Most people don't know that it’s loosely based off Shakespeare. I’m impressed. You must be a hopeless millennial romantic like me.”

Lucy just grinned, watching her get so excited about a movie.

“Plus, how attractive is Heath Ledger in this, hm?”

Lucy raised an eyebrow in question at her attraction to a man.

YFN grinned back cheekily. “Hey, I can admire a pretty person. Plus he’s from Perth in Western Australia, just like me.”

Lucy reached out with her free hand and touched the little dimple on her cheek gently. It was the complete opposite of the aggressive Lucy she’d seen on the pitch.

“I love this.”

YFN’s breathing started getting ragged and she had to blink and suck in a deep breath. Lucy grinned at the impact she had on her. YFN gestured to her grin. “And I love that.”

They spoke at the exact same time then.

“I want to get to know you be-”

“We acted on lust.”

Lucy was surprised but she nodded. “Yes, we did. Can you blame us?”

“No.. not really. I think it was more my fault than yours.”

“Ohhhh no. No, you’re not taking any blame for that. You can give that blame to me, or we can share it. I was flirting with you all night.”

“I know..” she whispered. “I liked it.”

Lucy took a risk and moved her hand to entangle their fingers completely. YFN covered the back of Lucy’s hand with her second one and pulled it onto her lap. Lucy sucked in a breath. She wanted to feel her, taste her, make her moan and cry and call her name. She pushed the thought aside and cleared her throat.

“I’m only here for another week and a half.”

“Jords said you were a writer? You can write, and travel. You can write, and stay. We can explore… this. I know it’s selfish of me to even ask but I have contracts in England and Spain.”

“I’ve never been to Spain.”

“You’ll love it, and you’ll love Narla.”

“Narla?”

“My little fur baby. She’s a Westie.” Lucy looked like a proud mum.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I want to meet her.”

“Spain is great,” she continued. “Tapas, good food, relaxed vibe, we’re down at the beach most mornings or evening watching the sunrise or sunset.”

“I miss good beaches.” She stroked the back of Lucy’s hand with her thumb.

“Well, they’re not ‘Australia good’ but they they’re pretty decent.”

“To be honest Lucy, I have no idea what I’m going to do. Dory and I get along so well, and I know she has other friends, but I feel like she’s leaning on me a bit at the moment and needs me. So I can’t see myself leaving soon anyways.. I want to just stay and be there for her, you know? Plus Birmingham sounds interesting.”

Lucy nodded slowly, thinking. “Well that’s much closer than you going back to Australia. There’s an airline that does direct from Birmingham to Barcelona and it’s quite cheap also.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a bit..”

Lucy gave a sheepish shrug. “Hopeless millennial romantic, remember?”

They smiled and played with each other’s hands, leaning towards each other.

“We have no idea what this is..” YFN sounded unsure.

Lucy wanted to reassure her and so she opened herself up. “You’re right, we have no idea what this is. All I know is that I can’t get you out of my head. I’ve been thinking about you, and even dreaming about you since we first met. And I’m so thankful that you and Jordan are friends so that I get to see you. I want us to explore this.. whatever it is. I want to see where this goes, because I haven’t felt this in a long time – no… scratch that - I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before, and I want so much more.” YFN was staring at her with a vulnerable, empathetic expression, her lips partially parted. Lucy continued. “I want so much more now, I wanted so much more when I met you, and I definitely wanted so much more in that bathroom.”

YFN’s pupils dilated and she could feel herself getting excited. She squirmed in her seat and felt her cheeks redden. Lucy noticed this and felt YFN’s hands press hers down further, closer to her core as she stroked her hand a bit more nervously. She assumed that YFN didn’t know she had done this as she could see her thinking hard.

Lucy leant over to her and tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking..”

YFN sighed. “You’ve been really honest with me, and so I’ll be really honest with you. I don’t think I’ve ever been this attracted to someone in my life so I’m struggling to even think at the moment.” Lucy chuckled and felt proud of herself. “My main concern is that I don’t want Dory to be hurt or put out.”

Lucy squeezed her hand in reassurance. “She’s one of my best mates. I’ll have a chat to her in the morning, okay?”

“A gentle chat, please.” She pleaded with her blue eyes. “If she’s at all put off or uncomfortable-”

“-then I’ll let you know and we’ll go from there.” Lucy finished. “So.. let’s have a date then, shall we? Tomorrow night?”

“I’m not sure if I can spend a night with you without lust taking over.”

“What’s the problem with that? We can save the drive and have a date at my house instead. I’ll cook.” Lucy knew it was cheeky but worth a try.

Lucy watched YFN roll her eyes but genuinely stop to think about it. She squirmed again and Lucy loved it.

“What time..?”

[shawtythatluvsurgut]

gunna have a video of me feeding my feedee up on my onlyfans soon. i’m thinking about starting it back up while i take a break from college because it was kind of empowering to get to own my kink in such a way. I also enjoy sharing that side of myself with all of you. subscription price will be between $8-$10/mo since my feedee is going to be collaborating with me on certain pieces of content. i will maybe begin gaining again once i get my health back in check, we’ll see. i want my muscle mommy build back, and to get that back i’ll have to pack on some weight. so we’ll see what happens with that. ;)

in the meantime and between-time, stay safe. especially on the internet. all of my old rules still apply for messaging me, but i will gradually get back to making regular content and posts. now that i am taking a break from school, i’m working more, but I also have free time on my hands when i’m not working. it feels really nice to get back into the swing of things. I’ve missed you all and I’ve missed the positive aspects of this community.

going forward, i’m just going to block people who talk shit to me or delete their comments (unless it’s of actual importance to discuss). i’m just done engaging with that shit. idk, i’m on new medication that seem to be actually working and i feel stable, so i feel ready to re-embrace this community with open arms.

a special thank you to everyone who continued engaging with me and communicating with me during my break. i appreciate all of your kind words more than you know, and if i didn’t respond to you it was because i didn’t want the answer to “hey how are you?” to be “i’m miserable. how are you?”. but I saw all of you - each and every message, comment, text, etc. - and i just want to say thank you. the people who still proceeded to message me with positivity are the reason I have decided I want to come back.

With all that being said, I hope you will all accept me back. I understand that some of you were upset that I left and didn’t understand my reasonings, but I hope we can reconcile our differences and i can gain your trust again. I’m not the angry person that I became when responding to hate messages, and that also influenced my time away. I could see that my demeanor on this hellsite was changing and I was getting more upset, angry and, honestly, afraid of going on here (let alone posting myself on here). However, that has changed. I’ve been working on being more optimistic and caring less about the negative opinions of others. Frankly, if someone doesn’t like me or my content they should just be an adult about it and either reach out to discuss that or ignore me. If they can’t do that, I believe they are childish and need to get a grip. There are some key things I’ve learned in life that I want to share with people who are as I described above:

- your comfort is not someone else’s responsibility. if it makes you uncomfortable, then don’t engage. It’s as simple as that.

- no one has to cater to your interests. everyone lives on their own agenda. your wants and desires do not take priority over the wants and desires of others. sure, there are some people who will cater to your every wish, but i’m definitely not one of them.

- similarly to above, your desires do not take priority over someone’s health. that includes both mental health and physical health. (death feedism is a thing if you are interested in someone wanting to gain while not caring about their health. this is not a death feedism page and i suggest you go search in the tags for that if it is what you are looking for. I do not want to kill my feedee, nor do I want him or I to gain enough weight to become immobile or at risk in any way. As hot as the idea is to me at times, we are both too active and work in active careers for that to be a realistic possibility for us. maybe someday i’ll get a stay at home job and get really big, or maybe someday he will. only time can tell. sorry for the length, i’m high. i’ll stfu now.

- people don’t care. no stranger online owes it to you to care that you don’t like their body, or that you don’t like this or that. it doesn’t matter because that person does not know you. there’s no point in wasting time caring about your negative comment unless it’s actually useful and constructive commentary.

So anyways, i’m back in business again. gonna post some FA art soon + start uploading to my OF again. I thank any of you who read this far and again I hope you can accept me back into the community.

Thanks,

Nico

[keischreiber]

Canonically, I feel like Reiner is the type to be apprehensive about using pet names for his significant other. He doesn't know when would be a good time to do it, would his partner like, is it something they'd prefer over calling them by name. Personally, I think he likes the way your name rolls off of his tongue. How something that, to him, was just a random name before but now holds so much meaning. Because it's your name.

Reiner is quite observant by nature so I think he's the type to watch people in passing. How maybe, walking through the streets of Liberio, he listens to people's conversations. Catches how couples seem open to such monikers and wonders just how he can also try it out.

Does he need to be casual about it and insert it into conversations; or should he just wait for you to bring it up, asking why he never calls you anything sweet or romantic. Reiner, I feel wouldn't want to upset you by calling you a particular pet name that you didn't like. So, I think he'd casually bring up a conversation that allows him to fish for some information.

He could site how people are so open about their relationships, and that he couldn't possibly do something like that. Trying to get a reaction out of you. And hopefully you'd question him about it so he could ask if you liked that sort of thing to, had any terms of endearment that you liked.

He knows that it shouldn't be complicated, but he's a man who has been met with so many rejections and disappointments that the last thing he wants is to disappoint you too, or be rejected by you for a simple mistake. He thinks about your comfort more than his own, because he feels it's the best way he can get his feelings across.

Maybe he thinks about it too much and just, during one of your busy mornings, it slips absentmindedly from his lips. Called you something other than your name. How naturally it left his lips that it caught you by surprise.

"What did you call me?" You'd ask, dumbfounded. And then he realizes that he slipped, possibly fucked up. God, his anxiety is setting in. You can see the discomfort on his face and hear him ask if you hated it.

Which you don't.

So his face lights up, obviously relieved that he hadn't disappointed you for being to comfortable. He can be silly at times, despite being each other's significant other, he's still so careful; afraid of risking your disapproval even if you've talked to him about things like, you're not always going to be on the same page at the start, but that doesn't mean you'd love him any less. That despite differences, love will always be present. He understands this, but sometimes, it's hard for him to wrap his head around it.

Then, you ask him, pulling him from his train of thought: "What do you want me to call you back?"

And he's stunned, always, that you were so considerate about him too. Giving him a choice, when majority of his life, he was given none. That the choices he made had put people in danger; that the only choice he could afford was the lesser of some evil. But you, you openly gave him a say, showed him how valid his points could be, how they make sense without endangering anyone. He appreciates you so much for it.

"Reiner. Just Reiner is enough." He tells you.

Because at the end of the day, no matter how sweet terms of endearments were... he wouldn't any form of it, coming from you. But if he were to choose, he'd want to hear his name roll off your tongue; given life by your voice.

Because for so long, to him, "Reiner" sounded like an obligation. His name attached to too many painful things. Responsibilities that he could never forgo, wrongs that could never be erased, a tool that was used over and over again, something that brought people he loved pain...

... but with you, it's different. His name felt like it meant something more. Something that wasn't as cursed as he initially thought. Something that was meant to be said, and cherished. Something that, when he hears you call for him... felt important, held significance—had meaning.

If it's you saying his name, why would he settle for a name that everyone already uses for everyone else?

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 1 thoughts

wow… how much time has progressed… and to think, a mere two months ago, i barely knew these character’s names, let alone that they will likely stick with me for eternity...

let us begin. as we always must do.

okay, so i’m reading the episode description: scully is facing a possible dismissal!!! i know she broke rules but it was for FRIENDSHIP and LOVE! does that not count for anything anymore?!

(spooky noise) (dried up alien shot) (voice of disembodied narrative) last season on the X files…

(a recap of cig man burning things)

we open back in New Mexico, to Albert describing his relationship to memory and history: “memory is radiant and immutable, while history serves only those who seek to control it” <- banger line.

anyway. we see the smoldering ruins of that train car that was once full of aliens. but not a single mulder in sight…

cig man is breaking into the kind people’s houses!! he and his cronies are conducting violence… THEY HIT ALBERT IN THE HEAD NOOO??? HE IS A HERO... cig man, you are less than a mosquito to me

scully time!!! she’s on the scene… guess she didn’t get far back to DC. “where is he?” she asks, and they look at each other with concern in their eyes. oh, they don’t know...

eric walks into the room with a terribly beaten face... NOOO ERIC, THEY SHOULD HAVE NEVER DONE THIS TO YOU.

now scully is screaming for him on the cliffs whilst the smoke still billows from the train where he was last seen… no response… it is not looking good for our friend mulder!!

she finally tries to go home, and a helicopter is shining on scully. RIGHT on her. this is not good for driving. they run her off the road with no regard for anyone's safety??? could have caused a MASSIVE pileup.

anyway, they grab her and it’s upsetting, asking where the files are and she says in the trunk. do we believe her??? it’s a copy of some of them, but not the DAT, which i would guess means the original cassette tape... oh nooo i’m scared… i mean she couldn’t deny it, but it’s also not looking good for the secrets she was trying to keep. so, without the "DAT", they just leave.

back at the FBI, they are telling her she needs to take a leave of absence. she is looking at the ground and it is once again giving student in the principal’s office. NO PAY OR BENEFITS??? you can't do that... what if she needs to go to the doctor......

i guess she is a doctor but the point stands. you NEED insurance in these parts.

she gives them her badge and gun and says she thinks mulder is dead :( NOOOOO you cannot admit defeat

skinner says “don’t think this hasn’t been difficult for everyone” and she is holding back a very very very biting remark but actually manages to hold it back, so god only knows what she wanted to say. a stronger woman than i.

until she leaves the room, that is!!! skinner comes out to talk to her and OH SHE IS MAD!!

“what about the people who are poisoning agent mulder’s water? whose protocol was that? the men who killed agent mulder, the people who killed his father- they aren’t meant to be found”

“we will find them”

“with all due respect, sir, I think you overestimate your position in the chain of command” <- OHHHH TEA. she basically said, you're a liar working for liars and perpetuating lies. meanwhile WE'RE the only real bitches at the function and one of ‘em’s dead because of YOUR pet cigarette man. SICK!!!!! truly evil.

now she has to find some work to pay the bills skinner!!

(i don't think skinner is evil, i just think he's a dick sometimes and that pisses me off more than sheer evilness. EACH time i think i have him figured out. he does something that proves me wrong)

one last visit to mulder's office before she leaves. she's going to take the real files on the cassette and they are GONE??? to whom have they gone…..

back in new york city. it's a meeting of the minds, all the big names in the world of covering up the existence of aliens. cig man is saying everything is fine, mulder is dead, and all the files are back. ALLEGEDLY!! i believe him on no accounts.

GASP scully going to her mom’s house… she walked there barefoot at night because her shoes hurt her :(

“i’ve made a terrible mistake. dad would be so ashamed of me” NOOOOOOOOOOOO DON’T SAY THAT!!!

(i cannot speak to the moral character of her father but if it were me, i would say it was doing the Right thing that counts far more than following corrupt orders from a corrupt system. and this is further proof that she is one of those people who Has to do the right thing or the guilt will consume her... )

and she DID do the right thing!!!! she just doesn't have faith!!!! i'll cry!!!

buzzards back in New Mexico… oh........

HAND SPOTTED!! white man’s hand in the rocks. is it mulder smushed?????? 

IT IS!! albert and co are hauling him out of a hole, and he’s looking quite dead, but he seems to have hid in a cave with the aliens. good on him for finding a convenient hole to duck into.

they’re doing a ceremony to call the Holy People!!!! i hope it works because remember, the calusari said mulder knows the devil and that seems contradictory...

hopefully they were just lying.

scully back home. sleeping in bed. answering the door, for someone knocks.

it’s FROHIKE???? i cackled. WHY does he know where she lives! and also why is he here when she is in her robe! well. i guess mourning will have you up and about at odd hours.

he drank a whole bottle of what looks like vodka...? and described mulder as “a redwood among mere sprouts” i laughed... it's so genuine. we all know a frohike, for better or for worse.

he assumes that she will be next in line for hunting The Truth, to which she replies, “i’m soon to be out of a job”. but she's a doctor, so it is gonna be okay. maybe she can just leave the last few months off her resume and get letters of recommendation from her professors. doctors, high in demand.

"and like rats, they just scatter back into the woodpile” she says, when discussing how these secretive people pull the strings behind the curtains. i took note because this is a yeehaw-sounding saying.

i guess we don't ever learn where she grew up, because it probably wasn't in one place, with her dad in the navy... but still. such a phrase is giving some sort of appalachia.

frohike brings bad news: the thinker was killed EXECUTION STYLE and found in a landfill... this is soooo fucked up. she is shocked they would do something so stupid and i was like ??? but ohh she's talking about tracing the bullets!

(i only realized this much later. i won't lie)

back in New Mexico, albert is working overtime calling the Holy People to come help, and mulder's floating out in space as he contemplates leaving this plane… 

people are surrounding him. perhaps the holy people or his ancestors??

but no, it is... DEEP THROAT??? I’VE MISSED YOU!!! it was nice to see him again, even for a brief moment in the astral plane.

he’s going on, very theatrically, about the absence of time in whatever it is inhabits after life: “i come to you, old friend, with the dull clarity of the dead, not to beckon you, but to feel the fire and intensity that still live in you…. there is truth here, if that is what you seek, but there is no justice or judgement, without which, truth is a vast, dead hallow” <- he has been reading Shakespeare in the afterlife 

no i actually loved that line. it goes hard. "the dull clearity of the dead". i'm eating that arrangement of words up

cutscene: aliens being gassed and locked in the railroad car. that’s…. Horrific 

(this scene takes mere seconds, and isn't addressed again in any real way in the episode, but holy. it was. unsettling. what did these bastards do to them....?)

back to the commune with the deceased. it's Bill! mr. mulder! he opens his eyes at his dad’s voice. his dad says he’s very sorry for lying about the whole alien thing, and says he is the memory; “if you were to die now, the truth would die, and only the lies survive us”. so no pressure whatsoever. /s

seemingly awake now, he asks if his sister is in the realm with the rest of those who have passed. and he learns she isn't there yet, so i'm pretty sure that makes up his mind, that he'll go back. but imagine if the answer was yes, she was there... do you think he would have still found the strength to return?

back in D.C., scully has to take the visitor’s entrance to the FBI :( but the security guard knows her!!! she is friendly in this way :) she beeps suspiciously... but he lets her though. i suspect that she might be hiding something... but what?

she's waiting for skinner. and ohhh skinner didn’t call her “agent” this time...ohhh the vibes are…….. not really vibing. it is uncomfortable.

she is bringing the news article to him and suggesting cross running the weapon that killed the thinker with the weapon that killed mulder’s dad to get some answers. this seems reasonable to me! he says she has been relieved of investigative duty and basically dismisses her. but she just wants to be helpful!!!! can you blame her??? she just wants to be HELPFUL, skinner, she wants her friend back and not dead. so please DON'T say something catty right now, i SWEAR.

SKINNER. I HATE YOU SOMETIMES. “ohhh the systems would have went off” so there is no need to cross reference the weapons. they’re killing people executioner style!!!! do you really think the people at the police department wouldn’t cover such a thing up?!?!? come ON let's use our heads!!!

he parrots her earlier line about him not having as much power as he thinks... ohhh you bitch. you should both be on the same team here and that team is "please let agent mulder be ALIVE"

he’s all “oh, you just wanna be helpful because you want your job back?” and she very firmly says NO. i just want answers. and honestly, she is handling this way better than i would be. because i would be biting and clawing skinner at this moment. to imply that she just wants her JOB back when she's trying to bring him information regarding a bunch of mysterious deaths, including that of her PARTNER?!?!?

so he says to bring him the cassette tape that she DOESN’T have or otherwise sit tight and let them do their job. and there is unbridled rage in her eyes but it somehow manages to not escape beyond body language and again, applause. 

pause. i’m actually so pissed on scully's behalf right now. and i just KNOW filming these scenes had to be fun.

as always in skinner's office, Bill Clinton watches over everything. his eyes are cold and uncaring. like a god who has abandoned its creation.

the MINUTE she leaves his office, cig man enters... SICK!!!! he's asking about the tape that he earlier claimed to the squad in new york that he got back… “that’s unfortunate”, he says, when he learns she doesn't have it. did he PLANT IT ON HER?? is that what the beeping was? do cassettes beep on metal detectors? i had some as a kid, i just remember feelings of plastic when holding them <-op was NOT onto something here

upon leaving, she is confused about the thingy beeping again. “you wearing a necklace or something?”, asks the security man. “no, not today”, and...... OH.... THE VISUAL INDICATOR THAT SHE HAS LOST ALL FAITH IN THE FORM OF HER CROSS NECKLACE BEING ABSENT. AUGHHHH TEARING MY SHIRT. ripping my hair out in grief. but that leaves the real question: what is in there?

she goes to the doctor, who looks at her neck. SOMETHING IS IN HER SKIN??? embedded in there. oh... it’s scarred over and they’re gonna pull it out, and i'm thinking i might gag if they show it, but thankfully they cut then. WHAT DID THEY DO TO HER IN ALIEN LAND????

back to the New Mexico cam!!! mulder progress!! three days of chanting and he is asking for water!! good news. 

back to D.C. no extraction scene visible, thank god. COMPUTER CHIP???? IN HER NECK??? did they microchip her... so they can track her location... or is it some sort of coded information... oh this is soooo evil

back talking with melissa!!!! my witchy best friend!!! melissa wants scully to unpack her memories, but can you blame her for NOT wanting to do that?? does reliving alien testing sound fun to you??? but, despite her reservations, she goes to a hypnotherapist anyway because she is a good sister and melissa played the "please? for me?" card

(damn, this show sure has a lot of hypnotherapy. it’s funny because i have never encountered it at all outside of this show. maybe it was the big thing at the time? and they wanted to be cool and trendy?)

but we’re back now, in repressed memory town, circa the Duane Barry era. regarding whoever was conducting the tests on her, she says she couldn’t resist them. hey what does THAT mean!!!

things look close to getting revealed when she says it’s time to go. like i said, i can imagine this is probably top ten worst sensations of all time.

so she drives back home and skinner is there??? HUH???? she looks sooooo gagged. and i was too.

(tell me why. oh god this is awful. tell me why my first reaction was “she must be going back to her mom's place... and he’s dating scully’s mom”) (cue the "i'm going to start dating her HARDER" scene from the office)

back in New Mexico. to end the ceremony, mulder must not do any work, change clothes, or bathe for 4 days. PLEASE DO THIS THING MY FRIEND. the boys give him a pouch for sunflower seeds, which he asked for during the worst of his fevers. the sunflower seeds... that when he heard them as a kid, reminded him he was not the last person in the universe... my sweet babygirl, who is a grown man breaking many many laws... glad to have you back in our world

albert shares that he went to the origin place, so overall, this mission seems to have been a success. so please, mulder, do NOT screw this up!!! sit in a hotel room and eat your seeds in your dirty clothes just do NOT break the rules of the ceremony that just saved your life.

scully calls skinner, asking why he was at her place, and he denies ever being at her apartment. BUT cig man is sitting right in front of him soooo it wouldn't have been a good time to talk anyway...

mulder is monologuing into the abyss, as he has found a way to infiltrate scully’s dreams!! very impressive!!

cutscene to his father’s his funeral. scully is there. because she is fundamentally good. she hasn’t met his mother before, right? i recall thinking earlier their first exchange might not go well, because of the whole sacrificed the “sister” for her in the hostage exchange deal thing...

but it actually goes as well as a first meeting a funeral can go. and without citing her prophetic dreams, scully tells her that she has a strong feeling he will be found. scully engaging in the supernatural...? are her sisters words ringing in her ear? or does she interpret a prophetic message dream as a message from the subconscious. i don't even think she knows.

meanwhile, a suspicious man watches this. he wants to talk to her away from the others. he makes some vague sort of reference to the UN league of alien safeguarding, and he says with confidence that mulder is dead.

AND THEN HE STARTS DESCRIBING HOW SHE WILL BE MURDERED???? okay could we GET any more unsettling. survey is saying no. anyway, she will be murdered with either with an unregistered weapon and people who will be out of the country right after the crime has been committed, or by someone she trusts visiting her house. uh oh… skinner looking sus

she asks why she is worth killing: "you want something they don’t- justice” hmm. many such cases in american history.

this guy claims to be tipping her off because his colleagues are acting “impulsively” and her death would just draw attention to them. i mean they have already killed like, 3 people if you count presumed dead mulder, but maybe one more would really push it over the edge?

mulder’s mom comes home. AND HE’S THERE!!!! in different clothes. 4 days had best have passed. i refuse to contemplate that he violated the terms of the ceremony.

okay, back from the dead, and he is interrogating his mom about his dad. she is not answering any questions- does she truly not remember or is she just deflecting... she wants to know what the deal is, and he grabs a gun and says it has to do with samantha. and leaves ominously. that man sure does want to make a dramatic exit.

missy wants to come over (scully calls her sister missy!), and she says to come over. but then someone immediately calls and hangs up- a universal sign of danger, as scully knows. she tries to call missy back, but she doesn't pick up the phone. so she calls back and she says she’ll go over to missy's place instead. the air is very very tense. something is about to go down. but what? 

running to her car. and IT'S SKINNER? he says to get in the car. scully goes in anyway but is very clearly suspicious he’ll kill her. AND SHE PULLS THE GUN ON HIM WHEN THEY GET TO MULDER'S PLACE!

“don’t turn around, or I’ll blow your head off” TEAAA! let out some of that rage i was earlier commenting was so well managed.

“don’t think I won’t do it, you son of a bitch” “no, I believe you” <- LMAOOOO he knows she is NOT messing around. and he does everything she asks of him, even sitting on his hands.

NOOOOO MELISSA GOES TO SCULLY'S PLACE AND KRYCHEK SHOOTS HER????? WHAAAAAAAAAAT???? he looks down and realizes it isn't scully, so he tells his companion that they should just leave. absolutely useless flop of a man. how did he even get into the FBI. maybe they'll just take anyone.

back to mulder's place. skinner claims he has the tape, and that he took it from mulder's desk. then why would he have sent her on the fool's errand of trying to find it? and now they BOTH have guns drawn on each other… as someone approaches the door…. presumably mulder coming home???

OHHHHHH this is the first time i have wanted to drop absolutely EVERYTHING and go straight into the next episode, writeup be damned. AUGHHH. what about melissa!!!!!! please let her make it PLEASE I CAN’T WATCH SCULLY ENDURE THIS!!!! can you imagine if she walks in the door and sees her sister bleeding out... hopefully krychek was too much of a failure to even land a lethal wound.

and honestly, from the moment I laid eyes on Krychek way back in s2, so long ago, i KNEW that he was a fucking rat. like. evil evil evil. idk how they’re gonna try and make me like him again if they decide to keep him on as a recurring character, but i truly do NOT give a fuck about what sort of backstory they come up with for him. i’m choosing anger over healing here. 

i’m that guy by the cork board pinning things with string and smoking a cigarette until all the things line up because truly WHAT is going on!!!! 

really great episode; the pacing and suspense were fantastic, i feel pumped to start a new season, i have a million questions but in an exciting rather than an overwhelming way, skinner you are once again on thin ice!!!

[skylights422]

Watching X-Men '97, and one thing I find funny about Morph so far is that a lot of his teasing feels like it SHOULD be making the team angrier with him - since he does tend to needle at insecurities a bit - but it...doesn't? (This being written with 7/10 episodes still left to air mind you, so maybe at some point a character will go 'Morph you've been meaner since you came back from the dead and no I don't mean the possession arc could you tone it down', which I'll take if/when it comes) LIKE. In the first two episodes when they go to cheer up Wolverine, both times they shift into people you would think would upset Wolverine (Jean and Sabretooth), but it...genuinely gets him to open up/relax/feel better? xD Which I guess shows Wolverine is kind of a weirdo too and that's possibly part of why he meshes well with Morph lol. But also, okay, those two are Best Friends, it makes sense the pair would have a unique dynamic and Morph would know pretty well how far they can go without upsetting him or otherwise having the unintended effect of 'not cheering him up'. But then with the other teammates, they still go pretty far with the teasing, and it admittedly doesn't make them feel Better like with Wolverine, but the reaction generally seems to be more of a 'ugh Morph' rather than a serious 'WHOA NOW that is too far and I am Offended'. Like when he was teasing Scott by turning into the currently deceased Xavier? Scott was like >:/ and not much else, and then everyone else in the room also gave Scott crap for being too rigid lol, so clearly this was not, somehow, considered a boundary to Not Cross. Or when he teases Gambit - lol the fact this even happened to me implies either Rogue and Magneto are SO UN-SUBTLE about seeing each other that it's become a team joke and everyone knows, or Gambit has complained about it often enough to Wolverine and Morph that they've reached the teasing him about it stage, and both explanations are kinda funny to me. But still, Gambit's reaction here is more of a 'aw shiz what if they have a point' and less 'hey knock it off you're being mean' (though Wolverine did actually say that a bit but let's be real he also found it funny, which did lessen the impact of the chastisement somewhat). And I just find this whole dynamic kind of funny because either the X-Men are all kind of weird and their line of what 'taking teasing too far' looks like is just placed differently than most people's (this is at least the case for Wolverine lolll), they all know Morph well enough to know they don't mean it to be actually cruel, or Morph knows them well enough to know which needling will get an eye roll and which would actually make them really hurt or angry. (Or that everyone other than Wolverine and maybe Jean and Storm find Morph off-putting but don't know how to bring it up since he is otherwise a very loyal/dedicated teammate, which again, we'll see if that's brought up) Overall though I've been really enjoying Morph (I liked him in the original series too) and like what they're doing with them, so I'm curious to see what they do with them!