#it’s literal a big weekend event and nothing more

[desi2go]

Jealousy, Jealousy

pairings: ot8 x reader (individually)

Hyung line ---- maknae line

warnings: mostly fluff

summary: How will the Stray Kids members show their jealousy?

Bang Chan

I think Chan would be the type of boyfriend that doesn't show their jealousy. But it would be so difficult for him, especially when your relationship is fresh and new.

You two were only together for some months now and it was the first time to meet your parents. Every few months, they organize a family weekend where all the aunts and uncles, cousines and significant others would come to your big grandparents' home.

This time, you decided to bring Chan with you. Even though you were nervous as hell, you were excited. Your mother was over the moon when you told her that this time you wouldn't show up alone.

The moment you came through the entrance door, you two were eagerly awaited and to your surprise from one person you didn't expected. It was your childhood best friend that you haven't seen since you moved to college.

He threw himself into your arms and unwillingly, you needed to let go of Chan's hand to pat his back. Chan stood there like he wasn't supposed to be there. It shocked him that that man could easily invade your personal space like he was your boyfriend.

The boy finally let go of you and dragged you away with a wide smile. You tried to stop him to stay with Chan but he just grabbed your arm and lead you through the house.

Fortunately, in that moment, your mother came and introduced herself to your boyfriend. And soon, you managed to escape the hold of your best friend. You loved him, really. But you forgot how clingy he was, especially when you were together with your boyfriend.

You gave Chan a gentle smile and you both were dragged to the big table in the dining room. As expected, your best friend sat immediately next to you so that Chan must go to the other corner of the table because on your other side sat your beloved niece that told you something about her favourite plushy.

Chan knew that he shouldn't be jealous of a four year old but he would love to sit next to you right now. And your best friend clearly wants all your attention. A sourness bubbled in his stomach as he saw you laughing with him.

You weren't dumb. You knew that Chan watched you. You literally could feel his intense gaze on you, well mostly on your friend when he touched your arm as he laughed. In the short time you were together, you never saw him jealous but right now he was definitely.

It only made you longing more for him because it means that he deeply cares about you and doesn't want to let his jealousy get the best of him so that you could enjoy your time with your friend. It was sweet. And after dinner, you'll definitely give him cuddles so that he could see that he is the only one in your life.

Minho

In my opinion, Minho would be the type of guy to be possessed by you when he is jealous.

You two were on an event from your work and enjoyed the happy atmosphere as a co-worker approached you. Minho was currently getting new drinks and let you alone for just some minutes.

Immediately, you recognised the co-worker. You had worked with him on several projects and you must admit that you were a good team. He stood before you with a shy smile and slowly developed a conversation with you about the current projects and what you thought about them.

Usually, he wasn't that nervous around you but you catched him from time to time staring at your lips or he let his gaze wander over your body. You had decided to show up in a dark green dress that ended just slightly under your knees. Nothing special but definitely nothing that you would wear at work.

Minho was already on the way back from the bar with the two drinks in hand as he saw the guy in front of you. At first he thought that it was just a normal conversation under colleagues but when he heard him asking for your number and if you would want to grab something to eat with him sometimes, Minho checked that this guy wants his girl.

He gave your glass to you and observed the guy.

"Who is this, kitten?" He asked you, not tearing his eyes away from his prey.

"This is my co-worker. We worked on a few projects"

Your colleague bowed. Minho didn't even try to return the gesture. He just flings an arm around your waist and pulled you flush against him.

"I'm Minho, her boyfriend" if looks could kill, the poor guy would be six feet under.

Changbin

I can't imagine Changbin acting like a bad boy and getting angry. As the sweet prince that he is, he would pout and be extremely clingy.

Regularly, when the 3Racha boys would do recording sessions, you surprised your boyfriend and brought some food with you. You wanted that the boys took are care of them even while ambitiously working on new songs. And maybe, just maybe, you wanted to hear your love sing.

Just like this time, you surprised the rappers and sat down next to Han while your boyfriend started recording. It was for their newest album and you were thrilled to hear some exclusive music. Especially since you were interested in recording music and worked in the music industry.

You discussed with Han about writing songs and so on. He gave you advices and told you some of his techniques.

Changbin in the meantime gave his best to rap his lines perfectly and even the difficult parts seem to work out just perfectly. Proud of himself, he looks to you to earn a toothy smile like usually. But you seemed to be in an interesting conversation with Han and he couldn't help but feel jealous.

You should watch him, your boyfriend. That's why you were here. To support him.

On the other hand, he was happy to see you two get along so well. It made his heart swell that you liked his family.

But still, you should focus on him.

Chan complimented him and moved to the next part while Changbin pouts.

"Y/nnnie! I'm your boyfriend! Give me attention" he whines. You looked up and cooed while Han chuckled.

"Aww, the little princess feels jealous" he joked.

"Yah! Jisung stop it" your boyfriend exclaimed a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry baby, you sang beautifully" you stated with a wide smile.

Hyunjin

I think that Hyunjin, the drama boy he is, would also pout and ignore you. Well, it seems that you doesn't need him anymore.

Whenever Hyunjin had a free afternoon without any practice, he would most likely give you a ride home from work. Just like this afternoon.

He had parked in front of the big office building where you work and now waited for you. Soon, you walked out with a male colleague. You were deeply in a conversation and laughed at something he said.

You seemed to have a good time with him. Apparently, you don't need your boyfriend anymore.

You bid him goodbye and walked over to the car with a wide smile.

Even though you were already seated in the passenger seat, he just looked strictly to the front. You gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

You told him about your new project while Hyunjin pulled out of the parking lot. He kept quiet, only answering with a nod.

You immediately noticed his strange behaviour but you wanted to wait until you were home till you addressed it. He should focus on driving.

Hyunjin on the other hand thought that you didn't even noticed his quietness and became even more pouty.

The whole care ride it was quiet only the radio broke the silence.

As soon as you opened the front door and your love tried walking past you. You grabbed his arm and looked him in the eyes.

"Okay Jinnie, What's up?" You asked with a stern gaze.

He avoided you.

"Are you jealous about me talking to a colleague?" You knew exactly what was up. After years of relationship, you knew him so good.

He answered with a yes and demanded kisses. Just like the drama boy he is.

#stray kids x reader #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #lee know x reader #hyunjin x reader #minho x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan #bang chan x reader #changbin #changbin x reader

[myseungsunglove]

Love without words | Ksm

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff (specific warnings under the cut)

Word Count: 2.6k

𖠫Summary: There is nothing quite like a night with Seungmin to erase all need for words between you.

✎A/N✎: I hadn’t really intended to pair this concept with Seungmin’s accident, but it seemed a good entry into a more intimate moment. There isn’t really any talk or speculation about the accident itself, just the minor aftermath of emotions that lead to the reader comforting Seungmin on his birthday. Just a soft series of moments that lead to a healing experience for both of them. Please understand this in no way reflects any actual events, obviously. Just felt like I needed to mention that in case anyone gets any ideas.

This is probably one of my favorite pieces I have ever written. So I really hope you guys enjoy it.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「© October 13, 2023 by mysweethannie」

✘MDNI✘

smut warnings: unprotected sex, soft & intimate

Generally speaking, you aren’t a particularly loud person. So it came as no surprise to Seungmin that when you reach high levels of pleasure with him, all words escape you. You aren’t really one to scream out in ecstasy either. Instead, it’s like someone has stolen away your ability to utter a sound. You are reduced to breathy sighs and airy whispers that vaguely sound like Seungmin’s name. Not to say that Seungmin can’t make you vocal, but during the more intimate moments and less dominating encounters, quiet passion is your default. Your mind, body, and soul seem to melt into Seungmin. You feel as though you quite literally become one. Every touch and movement of your bodies, no matter how big or small, are all you need to express your deepest feelings for each other.

Seungmin is much like you in that regard. He isn’t all that vocal during your most intimate moments either. The two of you are so much alike in some ways it seems unreal at times. In matters of the bedroom, the two of you are generally much more quiet than a “normal” couple which makes for some really intense moments shared between you.

Tonight is going to be one of those nights.

It is Seungmin’s birthday. He was recently in a minor accident that left him with muscle soreness and a few scrapes and bruises, but no major injuries. Even without major injuries, doctors insisted that he cancel his schedule for the upcoming week and rest to practice the utmost precaution. This means no New York and no birthday celebration with STAYs. You had planned an elaborate evening in New York to celebrate his birthday outside of his schedule for the festival. To say that he was disappointed to be sidelined for his birthday weekend would be a major understatement.

“You could have gone with them,” he laments, his voice low and pouty as he stares out the window. It is a gloomy, rainy day which fits the somber mood. Seungmin is tucked into himself on the couch, his knees up close to his chest, a soft wool blanket draped over his legs, bundled up in an oversized navy blue hoodie and clasping a cup of tea with both hands.

“Seung,” you sigh from your place in the kitchen, as you clean up the birthday breakfast you surprised him with. “I wouldn’t have left you on your birthday, no matter how much you insist that you’re okay,” you say, wiping your hands with a dish towel and folding it back properly to lay it over the handle of the oven door. You turn and face him to see he is still looking out the window.

“You may be physically okay,” you hedge, your face revealing you aren’t entirely sure of that statement. He had slept nearly 15 hours the night after the accident and that was after he had slept most of the day that followed the accident as well. So despite his insistence that he was fine, his body seemed to have a different opinion than his brain.

You reach out and grab his chin, slowly turning his gaze up to you.

“But I know you are devastated that you aren’t in New York,” you tell him, your words soft and your eyes caring as you meet his gaze.

“Please don’t pity me, jagia,” he grumbles, trying to pull away from you, his jaw set in frustration, his eyes determined.

You step onto the couch then, your legs crossing in front of you as you sit down in front of Seungmin, one of his legs moving to dangle off the edge of the couch. This leaves room for you to lean into his space and grab both sides of his face with your small, delicate hands and slowly pull his lips to yours.

He groans softly against your mouth. It’s only when he grunts briefly, the sound a little different than usual, that you realize you have partially sat on his leg, which he had felt the most soreness in since the accident.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, pulling away from the kiss. “I’m so sorry, babe,” you say in panic as you move to scramble off of his leg. At some point, Seungmin had set down his tea and his hands were gripping your waist. He held you in place, not allowing you to get away from him. When you look at his face, his eyes are closed and he is gently shaking his head.

“Stay,” he breathes, and if you hadn’t seen his lips move, you may not have heard the next word. “Please.”

“Seungmin,” you whisper, your hands finding purchase in his black hair, your fingers dancing along the nape of his neck as your lips crash together once more. This kiss is more desperate and full of longing as he moves to hover over you, breaking the kiss momentarily as you fall onto the couch, your back resting against the soft cushions, Seungmin’s large hands still firmly planted on your hips, but slowly moving up your torso as he kisses you.

Once settled, he pulls away and looks into your eyes, his walnut colored boba eyes round and dark with desire.

“Happy Birthday, Seungie,” you smile up at him, grasping the bottom of your shirt and pulling it over your head, to reveal your bare chest to him. Without a word, he scrambles off the couch, grabbing your hand and pulling you to a standing position. You don’t have to ask where you are going as he drags you out of the living room.

He leads you down the hallway and into your shared bedroom. Once you cross the threshold of the room, he pulls you ahead of him and guides you to the foot of the bed. The back of your knees hit the mattress at the same moment Seungmin’s lips find yours again, his tongue tangling with yours, eliciting a soft sigh that is expressed more through the rise and fall of your chest than an audible sound.

You grapple with the hem of his hoodie, pulling it and the t-shirt beneath it over his head as he lifts his arms with a small groan, your lips forced to part from his momentarily.

You kiss him quickly and then bend over to rid yourself of your shorts. As you stand, your eyes meet his and he blinks slowly, his eyes roving your body like it is the first time he has ever seen you naked. His pale, broad chest rises slightly with a sigh, his tongue darting out between his lips as he drinks you in.

You move then, crawling onto the bed and coming to rest on the mountain of pillows piled against the headboard, resting on your elbows as you watch him. Seungmin sheds his sweatpants and crawls onto the bed to join you, his body coming to rest on top of yours. He fits perfectly between your legs.

You cradle his face again, looking into his eyes. He holds your gaze long enough for you to know that no words are needed. He needs comfort and right now you need him. You will give him anything in the world to take away the sadness in his eyes. He bends down to kiss you slowly, your chests pressed together and he can’t help but cant his hips against yours as your tongue slips into his mouth, tasting every corner it touches.

Your hands wrap around to the back of his head, your fingers dancing along the now longer strands of hair that are there. His lips leave yours and start a trail along your jaw and down your neck as his now fully hard cock slides through your wet folds. Your hips buck up to meet his movements, your mouth hanging open as you breathe heavily, a reaction to the movement of his lips and hips.

Just when you think you can’t take his teasing anymore, Seungmin retreats from his attention to your neck and grabs his dick in hand, lining it up with your entrance. His eyes watch intently as the thick head of his cock breeches you, your body arching in response, a desperate attempt to draw him deeper into you.

He leans into you, getting the hint that comes without words that you need him. His lips meet yours as he pushes all the way into you, the sweet stretch of his long, hard member pulling a quiet, desperate sigh from your lungs, the smallest hint of a moan present but barely perceptible as his hips finally meet your pelvis. He doesn’t move for what feels like minutes as he kisses you, long and hard, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth.

It’s not until you bite his bottom lip at the same moment that your hips buck into his, that he realizes he hasn’t moved. He slowly pulls out of you and slides back in with ease, your body following the rhythm he sets. You move slowly like that for a time, the tip of his cock reaching that spongey pleasure spot inside of you as you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him impossibly closer to you.

His hands drift up from your waist and fully encompass your breast as he leans back and pulls his hips away from yours and quickly snaps them back. You can feel his heavy balls slapping against your ass as his movements quicken.

Wanting to take care of Seungmin, you press your hands against his chest that is now glistening with sweat, and push him back so that your positions are switched. He slips out of you, but you are quick to scramble back on top of him, grabbing his cock and lining it back up with you and sliding down onto it, until he is fully inside you once more. Your hands rest on his chest as you take a deep breath. Seungmin’s long fingers are digging into your thighs, his eyes shut tight, his lips closed tightly as he forces himself to breathe through his nose.

You move then, your hips rocking against his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as his cock moves against your walls. His hands dance up your sides, sending shivers down your spine and causing goosebumps to break out across your skin. You’re hot and cold all at the same time. Both of his large hands grasp your breasts and you lay your small hands on top of his, encouraging his movements as your fingers interlace with his, kneading your soft, ample breasts together.

“Y/n,” Seungmin whispers.

The sensation of his hands on your body and the whisper of your name on his lips causes you to be filled with need. You begin bouncing on his cock, the smack of skin the only sound to be heard in the otherwise quiet room. If you listen closely, you can hear the rain pelting against the window outside.

You feel that familiar coil start to tighten in your gut, your movements becoming more desperate and you clench hard around Seungmin’s cock as you chase your high. No words are necessary for him to understand that you are close so he sits up, his arms sliding around your waist and up your back, pressing your chests firmly together as you ride him fast and hard.

He kisses you fiercely and lifts you at the same moment, your back once again on the bed as he moves relentlessly inside you. Suddenly you aren’t the only one chasing that sweet release.

His hips meet yours with punctuated precision, the need to feel even closer to you growing by the second.

“Seungmin,” you whisper, the quiet signal that you’re close to letting go.

His eyes meet yours and his hips slow, languid and purposeful as he dips down to connect his lips to yours. His tongue slides against yours and that is all it takes for you to explode around him, your walls fluttering frantically and your legs spasming uncontrollably. A small gasp escapes you, your head falling against the pillow, your mouth hung open in a silent cry of pleasure. Seungmin works you through your release, watching you intently as you gasp for air. As your walls’ euphoric contractions dissipate, Seungmin finds his release, burying his face in the dip of your neck, his teeth nipping lightly as he spills into you.

This action prolongs your dissipating orgasim, your hands finding purchase in Seungmin’s soft locks as your bodies quake together.

Seungmin slumps against you, spent. The energy of your releases now gone, your chests both heave against each other, your heavy breathing the only sound to be heard for several long minutes.

As your heart rates slow, Seungmin’s lip travel along the column of your neck and up along your chin. You moan weakly at his feather light kisses before his lips find their home against yours. You smile against his mouth as you hold his face to yours.

“I love you so damn much,” he mumbles against your lips. He slips out of you slowly, earning a whine from you at both the loss of contact and the loss of him. You reach out to him with grabby hands, beckoning him to return to you.

He smiles at you fondly, chuckling quietly. He reaches out and grabs one of your hands, pulling you up and to the edge of the bed.

“Shower first, then cuddle.”

You spring into action and move together to the bathroom to clean up. You're hot and sticky with sweat, so a shower is a pretty wise decision.

With the goal of cuddling in mind, it doesn’t take long to clean up, eager to climb back in bed with Seungmin.

After you dry off, you drop the soft towel and lift the comforter crawling underneath its warmth, closing it quickly and snuggling in. Seungmin takes your towels into the bathroom to hang, and returns naked, a soft sigh leaving your body at the magnificent sight of him. He too lifts the comforter, climbing in after you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling your back in close against his body.

“I love you, you know,” you say, turning your face so that you can see his eyes.

“I know,” he says with a slow blink and a small smile.

You turn in his arms and kiss him slowly.

“Happy Birthday, Seungie,” you whisper against his lips. “There is nowhere I’d rather be than here with you.”

He hugs you tighter and kisses your temple softly.

“Me too, love.”

He snuggles into you and you both fall asleep this way, thoughts of the accident and the New York trip the farthest things from your love drunk minds.

It doesn’t matter where you are with Kim Seungmin, as long as you are together, all you’ll ever need is him.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #kim seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #Kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #seungmin angst #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin fluff #skz x reader #skz smut

[lightsoutletsgo]

mimi congrats on 500 <3, sending this for your event!!! (1) ship pretty pls :3 i listen to everything? mostly fall out boy, joji and the cure <3 i am a graphic designer. kinda hate dessert but i am addicted to energy drinks HEH. i love traveling to big cities! so very anti beach ❌. i’m lowkey introverted but very very extroverted online 😭 HEDJSIFKS dream date???? museums!!! very very into staying in but not against to going out? i’m very passionate about the things i like? but kinda sensitive to every other thing HEHEHE tysm! congrats again!

awi!! omg omg omg hi sweets!! tysm for sending this in - I'm so excited to do it for youuuu! (I got your other request about the nsfw bit dw) happy reading! mimi 🤍

MAX VERSTAPPEN ᝰ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ - calls you schat or liefje - has an obsession with your legs. loves having them in his lap when you're cuddling or wrapped around his waist - his love language is physical touch! he's a man of few words so it's small touches like a hand on your back or a quick kiss to your hand that let you know he's there and how he feels - max will do anything for you and he cannot help but spoil you. you barely have to mention something once before he's driving to the store or ordering it online for you. nothing is too big or too small for him to get for you.

max's music taste is... limited? so anytime you're driving anywhere, he's more than happy for you to have aux! he loves discovering new artists through you and with you and anytime you make him a playlist he always listens to it pre-race. of course he has to let everyone know that his amazing love made it for him. to which they usually reply "we know max, we heard the first time." (really they think it's sweet that he's so dopey for you)

he literally supplies you with all the redbull you could ever want! sometimes he 'jokes' that you're only with him for that reason but a quick kiss to his cheek has him blushing and flustered and the thought has left his head. speaking of blushing and flustered, max loves when you play dangerous games with him. sliding your hand higher and higher up his thigh at dinner before sneaking off to the bathroom with him.

max is obsessed with watching you come apart underneath him and he puts as much determination and passion into making you cum for him as he does into his driving. he loves how fucked out you look and he can't get enough of gently holding your throat and telling you to open before spitting, relishing in the way he feels you swallow under his hand. he also can't get enough of watching you in the mirror. bending you over the sink, putting you on your hands and knees on the bed, bending you over against the hallway wall; anywhere there's a mirror, max is sliding into you from behind and whispering filth into your ear as his hips roll into yours.

he loves jetting off to city breaks for the weekend with you when he can; new york, paris, seoul, budapest, prague, tokyo, florence, krakow, chicago, seville, nice; your passport is full of stamps and stickers from your trips with him. you've started a scrapbook together with a postcard and a polaroid of the two of you in every city you've been to!

he loves taking you to various art galleries and museums in the countries and cities you visit and he's become surprisingly good at being an instagram bf and taking aesthetic pictures of you in galleries and exhibits. max loves watching you as you look around, the way your face scrunches when you're focusing, the way your lips move as you read the placards, the way you excitedly tell him all you know or you've read about the exhibit and the way you're moved by the things you see. cosy date nights are a must with him whenever he's home and most nights (whether wild nights out or dinner dates at home) end with you cuddled into his side on the couch and the cats on his lap. it's his ideal evening and he won't tell you yet but he plans on hopefully making it a permanent fixture in his life soon.

max loves your passion for life and your passion and drive for the things you love, even if he doesn't love them in the same way or understand them. he learns so many new things through you and with you. he loves the way that you light up his life and make him feel warm. max swears he could never win another race for his whole career and he'd still get that world champion feeling just by looking into your eyes.

"schat, what do you think about going to paris next weekend?" max asks. you giggle and look at him leaning against the bedroom door frame as you lie on the bed, with jimmy curled up on top of your feet and sassy cuddled into your side, "max!" you point at the still half-unpacked suitcases at the foot of the bed, "we just got back from prague!" he shrugs, seemingly un-phased by your argument, "your point is?" "we can't go away again! what about the cats?"

max sighs and crosses the room to plop down onto the bed next to you, sassy glaring at him as he accidentally shifts her from her cosy spot at your side, you stroke her back absentmindedly as she takes up a new spot on your stomach, "we can ask lando to cat-sit!" you roll your eyes with a smile, max is grinning like a child, "you've already booked the tickets haven't you?" "nooooo..." "max." "maybe..." "baby!" he pouts at you and you can't help the way you laugh, leaning to kiss his cheek, "you're trouble, you know that?" he gently pushes sassy and jimmy out of the way and they almost huff at him before stalking out of the room as he rolls on top of you, pressing a dangerous kiss to your neck, "you love that I'm trouble liefje..."

#mimi's 500 celebration ₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡ #mimi.writes #mimi.thirsts #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #awi #omg you need to pick an emojiiiiI!!

[waitmyturtles]

Turtles Catches Up with Old GMMTV: SOTUS Edition

[What’s going on here? After joining Tumblr and discovering Thai BLs through KinnPorsche in 2022, I began watching GMMTV’s new offerings -- and realized that I had a lot of history to catch up on, to appreciate the more recent works that I was delving into. From tropes to BL frameworks, what we’re watching now hails from somewhere, and I’m learning about Thai BL's history through what I’m calling the Old GMMTV Challenge (OGMMTVC). Starting with recommendations from @absolutebl on their post regarding how GMMTV is correcting for its mistakes with its shows today, I’ve made an expansive list to get me through a condensed history of essential/classic/significant Thai BLs produced by GMMTV and many other BL studios. My watchlist, pasted below, lists what I’ve watched and what’s upcoming, along with the reviews I’ve written so far. First official Old GMMTV Challenge review up: SOTUS.]

[NOTE, March 23, 2024: I want to note, from the future!, that my thoughts on Krist Perawat, his acting, and his career trajectory regarding his personal controversies, have changed quite a bit since the publication of this 2023 post. There is excellent commentary out there about the detrimental impact of fandom behavior on Krist and his reputation over the years that I’ve been influenced by, and his comeback to BL in Be My Favorite was a risk that I supported. I have a lot of nostalgia for SOTUS and SOTUS S now, and their impact on the Thai BL genre since their airings.]

I spent a lot of the weekend wrapping my head around the MANY thoughts I have about SOTUS -- but first, I want to say that the FEEDBACK I received on questions that I posted throughout my watch of the show really heartened me. THANK YOU, THANK YOU (!!!) to EVERYONE who made helpful comments on my posts (here, here, here, here, especially here, and here). All of you helping to set me up for how I understand the historical timeline of the development of BLs in Thailand was absolutely necessary for the lenses in which I ultimately watched the show.

And I think there’s a number of perspectives I ended up adopting over the course of my watch. It might help me to write this piece if I list out those lenses now:

- Lens #1: WHY, OH MY GOD, WHY WAS KRIST CAST IN THIS ROLE - Lens #2: People had to have enjoyed this in 2016 because there was nothing else like it available at the time, despite Krust - Lens #3: Maybe the first two points are related - Lens #4: Singto is reaching remarkable-level here - Lens #5: Maybe all of these points will help me understand why many fans still think of this show fondly, despite the subsequent Krust/KrustSingto drama and possibly questionable points made on sexuality and sexual preferences.

More than anything else, I think it helped me to watch this show while recognizing that I’m an #old. Being early middle-aged (early, I tell ya) helps me, literally everyday, to remember that history guides me to understand the world in which I view it now. So to watch a show from 2016, which is long-ago or not-that-long-ago, depending on your frame of reference, means that I was watching history. And history is.... a reflection of that one, singular moment in time, with the context of past events, people, and places influencing that moment in time. 

I went out of order on the Old GMMTV Challenge because I was too eagerly curious about Singto to watch Love Sick first, and wait on SOTUS (as I’m planning to reward myself after this journey with a big old watch party of He’s Coming to Me, running back to my snuggly Ohm/Nanon rabbithole). 

But as well, speaking of Bad Buddy: I also felt like I really wanted to get SOTUS under my belt after a number of separate and FABULOUS conversations about how Bad Buddy had purposefully relied on a BL framework (citing @miscellar), and how Aof and his team, plus Nanon and Ohm themselves, had set out essentially to create a critical meta-BL, complete with embedded reflection on BL tropes -- exactly the sorts of tropes that were borne out of SOTUS. (Here and here are two links to said fabulous conversations.)

I probably think about Bad Buddy at least once a day by way of how deeply layered it was a drama, so: to SOTUS I needed to go, to understand the tropes framework that @miscellar and others opined on, and for me to undergo a learning experience about how exactly today’s BLs are influenced by the ones that started the genre in Thailand. 

Considering the lenses I listed above, I’ll say this: at the age I was at in 2016, and knowing that, as an Asian, I’ve always had a craving for shows by Asians, set in Asia, within Asian family and social systems, about issues of acceptance and equity felt by Asians: I predict that, save for Krust’s performance, I would have been CRAZY for SOTUS as a new kind of show that I wanted and needed to watch.

During my excellent conversations with the Tumblr family, I came to understand that SOTUS was Thailand’s first true BL. It centered on a same-sex attraction-to-relationship, established various levels of perspectives and commentaries on power dynamics, and set up a number of important tropes -- pink milk, university settings, engineering-as-gay, the gay-for-you motif, side couples and best friends, etc. -- that we then saw and see repeated in subsequent BLs.

Where I was at in 2016 -- I would have eaten it almost all of it up.

Now? Now, I get to see all the problematic factors about it, through the lens of history.

So I want to be fair about the commentary this show receives NOW, because one thing I heard repeated in the feedback I received over the past couple weeks, in part, was about nostalgia. Reflecting particularly on Singto’s performance as Kongpob -- I mean, with a slightly more sophisticated, mature, well-rounded, better-written script, his performance would have been totally groundbreaking.

But I THINK, both from a 2016-lens and from a now-lens, that the script was terribly choppy. I don’t think the script did justice for the risks this show was otherwise willing to take. And I think, again, that’s because SOTUS is a product of its time, where there were no precedents for how to otherwise tell Kong’s story -- and that SOTUS was breaking the ground that the current crop of GMMTV’s screenwriters and directors are now tending. In essence: GMMTV was experimenting with HOW to tell the CENTERED story of a same-sex relationship, and we saw that unfold in SOTUS’s real time. 

Besides the choppy script, this show ultimately did not achieve creative groundbreaking status, for me, because of Krist. Not to be hyperbolic, but he’s one of the worst actors I’ve seen in an Asian drama, and I’ve watched some bad KBS daytime shit. If someone tells me that Krust has been great in certain cishet shows, that’s fine, but I’m not running to them (and now I’m SO disappointed about The Jungle, which I was otherwise looking forward to this year). And this feeling is not at all inclusive of his actual problematic homophobic behavior. He was just terrible in SOTUS. 

We know and have seen tsundere leads. We all love our biases who have played tsundere leads. The problem with Krust is that he had zero reactivity and chemistry to an excellent Singto, regardless of the script, regardless of his acting methodology, if he had any to begin with. 

So I have to think: did GMMTV cast him because, maybe, he was having trouble getting other projects that would have required, say, acting? And GMMTV was like, well, this guy’s under contract, let’s throw him a bone with this experimental show we’re doing, and see how it goes?

I am tending to think that that’s possibly what happened. And maybe, even, GMMTV could not have predicted how FANTASTIC Singto would be -- and, therefore, how wide the divide would have been between their performances. And, how much GMMTV was risking by putting this mismatched pair together for what ultimately was groundbreaking material.

GMMTV couldn’t have predicted the future, right? Hollywood tries with its predictive models, but this was new ground for this company.

Where the choppy script and Krust’s terrible acting really fails the show is, as I mentioned earlier, the issue that I bring up about power dynamics. Krust as Arthit was going to do something in this show that was rare at that moment: Arthit was going to move from a socially majority position to a minority position by falling in love with Kongpob.

That’s a big deal. That happens in two of my most dearest BLs, Old Fashion Cupcake and Cherry Magic, and many others, of course. The Asian collectivist perspective plays huge parts in both shows, unconsciously, that lead to the uke leads considering taking up with their semes. And it happens to Arthit, too. In the Asian collectivist perspective -- you, as a uke, respond empathically, and maybe even try to meet your seme where your seme is at. 

I think the only times that I saw Krust at least trying to show up in this show was by way of this power dynamic move, to attempt to respond to Kong/Singto emotionally. There was a little eye contact. There was a little instinctual responsiveness. But otherwise, there was really a lot of dead air and dead space, leveraged by an only-okay soundtrack that left Krust and Singto struggling to act in essential silence, with Krust barely scraping by on attempting to communicate his struggle in his developing attraction to Kong. 

I’m just wondering to myself: how much do I blame the actual show itself -- like the script, the director, the writers, etc. -- about how it ended up this way? I think I ultimately have a sympathetic heart about it, again, because of the history, and my betting (based on everything that everyone here on Tumblr has taught me about) that again, this was a kind of experiment for GMMTV, without the company knowing how HUGE KrustSingto would become. 

Other points about the show that I want to quickly capture before I wrap up on Kong/Singto:

- The hazing, while concerning, didn’t make me swerve, as it was clear from the start that it was sanctioned by their school. I want to say that this kind of hazing is important to many Asian school social systems, but I know things have changed a ton since I was a kid. As with almost all social and family systems, the hazing, I think, offered another commentary on power dynamics that I think was reflected throughout the show. I thought the hazing was actually an interesting mirror to what Kong and Arthit were struggling with individually, between themselves.

- I LOVED THE SIDE CHARACTERS. M, Wad, Prae, May. They were fun, well-written, and WELL-ACTED.

I want to wrap this up with a reflection on Singto/Kong and his acting vis à vis the script. 

Going back to the 2016 moment-in-time frame: I know I would have gone crazy for him seven years ago. Forget about it. Mans totally rose to the occasion of what this show was doing. I think the script ultimately failed to truly capture what he was willing to throw. (And that leads me to not being surprised that he was then subsequently paired with various leads in future shows, probably to try to capture a magic that he clearly demonstrated in SOTUS.)

In particular: I did NOT think the script did Kong justice by keeping the revelation about his budding attraction to Arthit until episode 11 (I *think* it was episode 11, but I could be wrong, and I’m not going back to fact-check, ha). I want to think that that’s one of the (many) kinds of mistakes that GMMTV is correcting for now. The comments about wives, the insistent “you like me”s -- they were non-contextual for much of the show, ESPECIALLY BECAUSE Krust could not catch a damn ball. That’s what ultimately broke me about this show. And I think that demonstrated a lack of fluency about how GMMTV could write scripts on same-sex attraction. 

As well, as I wrote in this post -- the post-Arthit-coming-out discussion between Kong and M threw me. M asks Kong -- “do you like men?”

And Kong had SUCH a specific answer. To me, as I wrote previously: his answer was, I definitely don’t like men. I’m definitely not gay. I just like Arthit.

My guess is, for Thailand’s first full-fledged BL in 2016 -- this dialogue HAD to be written this way. To enter into the kind of territory we see NOW, as we saw in Moonlight Chicken -- where we see one man’s (Jim’s) struggle with IDENTIFYING himself as gay, AND presenting another man AS HIS boyfriend -- we had to START somewhere. That somewhere was SOTUS, in almost total opposite territory, where the concept of the admission-of-gay could not be contemplated.

@bengiyo’s comments in the last post I linked above, in particular, collide in part with @absolutebl‘s analysis on the Asian collectivist vision. However, I can’t help but compare this issue, again, to what we recently saw in Moonlight Chicken...where conversations about Jim, about Li Ming, and with Wen, a fully out and identified queer man, all touched upon individual identity.

That’s where we are -- that’s where we CAN be -- now, in 2023, and in the near future. SOTUS was important for me to watch to understand how we ended up here, now, for what was okay and was not okay, in 2016. 

It’s okay, now, to appreciate collectivism WHILE ALSO identifying oneself as queer/gay. At least, it’s okay in fantasy BL-land. (Again, I’d peep @bengiyo’s comments about how that may not be reflective of what domestic Thai queer audiences may be feeling about these shows.) 

I have a lot more understanding to undertake regarding how Asian queer audiences see this. But at least from the perspective of this first-generation Asian American -- to see the progression of history as the doors slowly open, from dramas to Asian (and other) audiences regarding how one can identify oneself, safely and happily -- that’s a big deal, and I see how SOTUS was a harbinger of things to come. 

Singto was simply up to the task to break ground in this show, and it’s such a shame that he was let down, in my opinion, by his co-star. The subsequent history of that pairing breaks my heart, because I think it taints a lot of what SOTUS ended up bringing to the table. I’m glad we have Aof and Bad Buddy, now, to serve in part as a reflection for what SOTUS did, and how BLs and BL tropes could age, be manipulated, and be IMPROVED and developed upon, over the course of time. But the actual history of KrustSingto messes me up a lot in regards to how I might feel nostalgic, myself, for SOTUS, as I learn more about classic BLs.

It’s a confusing mindspace to be in, to move backwards in time to understand how things have developed -- but I gain such a bigger appreciation for the shows I’ve fallen in love with now, over these recent months, for where they came from.

[I want to give HUGE thanks to @absolutebl, @bengiyo, @nieves-de-sugui, @respectthepetty, @miscellar (especially for all the BBS context), @lurkingshan, @wen-kexing-apologist, @shortpplfedup, @clairificusrex, @dribs-and-drabbles, and everyone else who made comments in my SOTUS watch posts. All of you are my historians. More than the fun of writing these reviews is interacting and conversing with the Tumblr fam.]

(Love Sick is on deck. If anyone is following this journey, I’ll be fast-forwarding through the second season, ha -- I can’t commit to 36 lakorn-length episodes. I also have a HUGE and lengthy wedding trip coming up in a couple weeks. So the conclusion of this project will be delayed, but definitely know that I’ll be posting thoughts here and there as I plod through.)

#sotus #sotus the series #sotus meta #sotus the series meta #krist perawat #singto prachaya #kristsingto #turtles catches up with old gmmtv #the old gmmtv challenge

[randalsgrave]

Sweetness and Light: Part Seven

Got nothing to say, other than schoolwork is the biggest time-suck in existence. Oh, and hold onto your butts - after this part things are going to get REAL interesting REAL fast. This is a long time in the making and I'm so excited for the stuff that comes after it ;)

Bob takes a gamble.

BobxFemale!OC. F/C: Kacey Rohl

Word count: 5.2K

WARNINGS: colorful language; not beta-read (we die like men)

***

“What are your thoughts on aquariums?”

It’s Wednesday, and the question comes on the way to the schoolhouse at seven in the morning. At first, it’s innocent and innocuous, enough for Katie to reply and not give much thought to it. 

That all changes when Bob asks his follow-up question. 

“Would you wanna come with me to one on Saturday?”

After the events of last weekend, things are different between the two of them. Katie’s still not sure what exactly it is, but something has shifted and the pull towards Bob is only getting stronger. Part of her wants nothing to do with it, wants desperately to cling to the ‘capable single female’ persona she’s worked hard at and not let feelings interfere with her goals. Few things torpedo aspirations faster than emotional connection, and with everything she’s already been through, Katie is hard-pressed to let them affect her. Very, very hard-pressed. 

And yet… another part of her is curious. The pull is compelling, and perhaps against her better judgment, she wants to see what might be in store for her - hell, the both of them. 

So, Katie agrees, with a hesitant but smiling ‘sure’ that has Bob grinning like he just won the lottery. The whole thing is enough to raise an eyebrow at, sure, but nothing to worry about, right?

Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. 

Of course, it isn’t until Saturday rolls around that Katie realizes that, oh shit, this is a lot more serious than she might’ve thought. 

She knows she’s in trouble when it takes her well over a half-hour to decide on what she’s wearing. Outfits that she normally wouldn’t give a second thought to are all of a sudden not good enough, or convey too much of one thing and not enough of another. Comfy old t-shirt and jean shorts? Way too casual. Linen button-down and a crop top? Nope. Leggings and Birkenstocks? Absolutely not. Each outfit proves more unworthy than the last, and it’s all Katie can do not to curl up in a ball and scream. If things are already this nerve-wracking, what’s the rest of the day going to be like for her? 

Eventually, she manages to settle on an outfit, opting for a light gray t-shirt, mom jeans, and a well-loved pair of sage-colored sneakers, but then… Should I opt for jewelry? It all looks kinda’ plain without it - but what if it looks like I’m trying too hard? Oh my god, this can’t be happening…

One moment later and Katie is donning a pair of small gold hoops, but it’s not without its fair share of anxious butterflies. This is so stupid, she thinks. No one is going to care how much or how little effort she puts into what she’s wearing. And why should they? It’s not a big deal. It’s literally just another hangout with Bob, no different from the countless others they’ve had over the last few weeks. 

Only it’s not, not by a long shot. 

Sure, the hangout on Saturday was casual, easy, devoid of any sort of emotional tension - about as far away from a date as a person could possibly get. But then Sunday happened, and now everything is suddenly a mess of confusion, complicated emotions, and unanswered questions. Today’s hangout is different. After last weekend, this one now feels an awful lot like a real, no-shit date - and as much as she hates to admit it, it freaks Katie out. Whether it’s because she’s out of practice and refuses to admit it, or because it involves Bob and there is something pulling the two of them together, her heart is pounding frantically in her ribcage, and for a while, she’s not sure how to make it stop.  

She ruminates on the current state she’s in while she fiddles with her hair in the bathroom, fingers twisting it up, pulling it down, twisting it up, pulling it down. Most likely she’s the only one freaking out here, and if that’s the case then she needs to stop. She doesn’t need to be making Bob feel weird because she can’t regulate her emotions - but god, if only she knew where she stood with him. It would make dealing with her feelings - and her nerves - so much easier. 

She heaves a heavy sigh, pulls some of her hair back into a low half-pony. It doesn’t matter. They’re friends, and good ones, at that. That should certainly be enough for Katie - and for the most part, it is. 

Still, the ‘more’s’, the what-if’s… they nag at her, make her wonder and ponder and panic, because what if?

“Oh for fuck’s sake - enough,” she hisses at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. “You’re going to an aquarium with a good friend of yours; that is all you’re doing today. You’re not getting married, you’re not pledging eternity with him, you’re not making a long-term dating pact - you are going to a fucking aquarium.” She closes her eyes, breathes deep, musters up more courage for herself. “You may have feelings for him, but you don’t have to let them complicate things. Just… don’t make it weird. Please don’t make it weird.”

Don’t make it weird, because I can’t bear the thought of losing him like that. 

Katie heaves a long sigh, tucks a strand of loose hair behind one ear - and smiles at her reflection in the mirror, almost bravely. She looks nice - and that’s what she’s going to focus on. That, and just enjoying the day. There’s no telling how today’s going to go (if it’s even going to go in any direction), but she’s not about to let her nerves, or her feelings, or the fear of the unknown, or anything compromise today. She can do this. This’ll be no sweat. 

Hopefully. 

***

Bob Floyd is certain he’s going to have a heart attack today. 

For the last five minutes, he’s been fighting the urge to pace back and forth across the lobby, something that - for whatever reason - his brain is telling him is critical for his survival today. Not that it would do him a lot of good. If anything, it would probably worsen the anxiety gnawing at him. 

It had been such a good idea on Wednesday, inviting Katie to tag along with him to the Birch Aquarium over the weekend. They’d been spending so much time together already; inviting her to come along had been a no-brainer. 

Of course, only now does Bob realize that maybe this isn’t such a great idea. After the events of this past Sunday, something is different. There’s something going on between the two of them, and while Bob can’t necessarily put his finger on what it is, he knows it’s there, and it’s making him nervous. He shouldn’t be doing this right now. He should be laying low, trying to figure out what’s going on, and trying to make an appropriate plan of action.

And yet, here he is, sticking to his plans with his hands clasped and a tight but pleasant smile on his face. Of course, whether or not he’s an idiot for it remains to be seen. 

He doesn’t wait very long for Katie. He’s leaning forward, stretching his legs when she appears in his line of sight, dressed casually with her dark hair half down and spilling softly over her shoulders. That’s new, he thinks - Bob can’t recall a time recently that Katie’s worn her hair down… or a time ever, for that matter. It’s… 

Pretty. 

It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell her that she looks nice, that he likes seeing her with her hair down, but he doesn’t. He can’t. The words stick miserably and stubbornly in his throat. 

If only things were easy. 

He stands and smiles, still tight but gradually loosening. “Ready?” 

Katie nods, trails behind him out of the Navy Lodge and into the parking lot. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Well,” he says as he jangles his keys in one hand, “I was thinking we grab something for lunch before we head over. After that, just… wander around the aquarium and hang out, I guess.”

“Sounds good to me… What’re you thinking for lunch?”

“Chinese food sound good to you? I’ve had a craving for chili dumplings and mapo tofu lately.”

“Ooh, I’d be down for some dumplings. Let’s do it.”

“Sweet.” They clamber into Bob’s car, Katie seated somewhat primly in the passenger seat, Bob settled behind the driver’s wheel, his hands flexing in nervous anticipation. Keep it calm, guy, he tells himself sternly as he turns the key in the ignition and starts the car up. There’s no telling what’s gonna happen today, but right now, you’re just getting lunch with her. That’s it. Just keep it calm. 

He swings out of the parking lot, steers them off-base and onto the freeway, fingers gently tapping the steering wheel in time with his music. Not much is said between the two of them; they’re each lost in their own heads - and even if they weren’t, what’s there to say right now? 

Of course, Bob can only hope that this is the limit of it all. He’s not sure how he’ll get through the afternoon if they wind up not speaking to each other the whole time. 

About twenty minutes later, the two of them are seated inside a small Chinese restaurant, one couple out of three occupying the space. It’s much quieter here than Harry’s Coffee Shop was last weekend, not to mention more subdued and serious. Bob can’t help the thought that his choice of lunch spot might not have been the right one today. Then again, Bob’s convinced that every decision he’s made for today has been a wrong one, but such is the nature of anxiety. Logically, he knows that this is not true - but to his annoyance, the thought persists.

Save for some small talk in between bites of food, they spend almost the whole meal in silence. Bob’s head is a whirl of thoughts and questions as he eats, eyes carefully watching the woman sitting across from him. In some ways it feels like the lunch they had the first time they met. However, unlike the first time they met, Bob knows Katie now, has spent considerable time with her and learned things about her. He doesn’t need to guess if she likes being around him, or wonder if they have anything in common or if she’s just humoring him - at least, until now he hasn’t needed to. The fact that he suddenly feels like he does leaves a pit in his stomach, a large one. 

Did things really change that drastically between them last weekend?

“So why the aquarium?” Katie asks out of nowhere. It’s nearly the end of the meal, and not including the moments of small talk, it’s the first time she’s spoken to Bob since they left the lodge. “Got something planned or are you just a big fan of sea life?”

Bob shrugs before spooning the last of his mapo tofu into his mouth. “I guess it’s the second one. Uh” - c’mon Floyd, keep it together - “I’ve been going to aquariums since I was a kid, and, well… I like checking out the ones I haven’t been to before. Y’know?”

“That’s fair. God… I honestly can’t remember the last time I went to an aquarium…” 

Bob’s not entirely sure how to respond to that, but he manages a partial smile. “Well, hopefully you like the one we’re going to. Birch Aquarium’s supposed to be really nice.” Christ - maybe this is more like the day they met than he thought; he can’t remember any other time their conversations have been this stiff and awkward. God, I hope it doesn’t stay this way.

They finish their lunch quietly, then head back out to Bob’s car and crawl their way through downtown San Diego to the aquarium. When they get there, it’s packed, pulsing with the energy of young children out with their families for the weekend. Bob, though initially taken aback (if not a bit overwhelmed) at the chaotic busyness of the place, finds himself relieved at its presence. His interactions with Katie have been far more enjoyable and relaxed in places like this, where the noise and energy are good distractions from the thoughts racing through his head. They take up enough of his time and attention as it is. All he wants right now is to enjoy his day out with Katie. 

 “Looks like all of San Diego decided today was a good day to head to the aquarium,” Katie quips wryly after they buy their tickets, right as a gang of children whizzes by them in a shriek of laughter. 

Bob chuckles. “Sure does. You’re okay with the crowds and kids, right? I probably should’ve asked before we got here, but uh…”

“Oh yeah, I’m good. Honestly it’s a good thing there are a ton of kids here on the weekend; I’d be kinda’ concerned if there weren’t.”

“Fair enough… So… Whaddaya wanna look at first?”

Katie looks over at Bob with a grin on her face, her gaze landing on his in a way that makes his heart stutter, just the tiniest bit. “You’re the aquarium guy here,” she replies amusedly. “I’ll let you lead the way.”

“Okay… Hope y’know that means we’re looking at everything then.”

“Buy me a snack halfway through and it’ll be no problem,” Katie snarks. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They venture into the first of many exhibits, a large atrium with penguins on display, which fly off the rock shelf and shoot through the water, their speed and precision almost reminiscent of the jets they fly around in. Then, it’s on to the next atrium, a room full of sharks and stingrays and “other big beasties,” as Katie calls them, swimming languidly in their never-ending loops and figure-eights. About an hour later, it’s the seadragons and seahorses exhibit, followed by the tide pools, a peek into the oddities area, and - as promised - a small snack for Katie. 

Speaking of Katie… She’s still quiet, but not the awkward, conversation-devoid kind she was at lunch. In here, she’s studiously quiet, eyes and attention intently focused on the sea life swimming before her, lips curled up in a permanent, happy smile.

How wonderful it is when she smiles, Bob thinks. 

Of course, her smile is even bigger and brighter when they make their way into the coral reef exhibit and the world explodes into aquatic color. Fish of all kinds peek through the crevices, flashing across the glass before darting out of sight once more. At the sight of them, Katie’s eyes practically sparkle. 

“The coral reef tanks were always my favorite,” she says, voice warm and filled with fondness. “I didn’t really do the whole aquarium thing much, but anytime I did, this was always my favorite part.”

“Mine too. Well, that and the open ocean tanks. I like watching the shoals.” 

She’s watching a yellow tang swim to and fro in rapt interest when he says it. “...The shoals?”

“Yeah, the uh… the big groups of fish that kind of… move as one, I guess? Like they do this kind of tornado or helix movement in the water-”

“Oh, those things!” Katie exclaims. “I love watching those. It’s kind of like watching fish ballet. D’yknow if we can see them here?” 

“Y’know, I’m not sure. Lemme look at a map real quick.” Bob pulls a twice-folded map from his back jeans pocket, scans it for signs of the exhibit in question. Unfortunately for them, this aquarium doesn’t seem to have one, something of a mild disappointment for Bob (and Katie too, if the slightly crestfallen look on her face is any indication). He does, however, notice something else that might be of interest. “Any interest in checking out the kelp forest? It’s a couple rooms over. If this map’s any indicator it’s also the biggest one here.” 

“I’m down. Let’s do it.” 

They make their way through the winding hall of tropical reefs and brilliant fish, past families and oohing-aahing gangs of children, into an area that grows darker and darker until, suddenly… 

Katie gasps when they find themselves walking into a blue-tinged atrium with easily the largest tank either of them has ever seen. Bob’s not that far off, releasing a long, low whistle at the sight before him. This is unlike anything he’s seen before - and he’s been to a lot of aquariums in his lifetime. 

“This might’ve just become my new favorite part. God, look at this…” Katie positions herself front and center before the tank, blue eyes bright and glittering in the low light of the room. “I love it.”

By some miracle, it’s quiet in the exhibit room. No families or massive groups of kids and teenagers, no yelling and shrieking, no buzz of conversation - just Bob, Katie, and the massive kelp forest before them. Peace at last, and the beauty is theirs alone to enjoy. And oh, it really is beautiful. Fish of all kinds drift languidly amongst the leaves, riding the currents that rock them gently from one side to the other. Light shimmers down into the water and filters through the kelp, scattering soft shards of gold through the otherwise blue exhibit room. And the bright, crystalline blue radiating out from the tank softens, then fades into the darkness of the room it’s contained within. It is… otherworldly. 

“Have you ever seen something so beautiful?” Katie breathes, utterly mesmerized by the view before her. 

It is, it absolutely is - and yet Bob can’t bring himself to care about it. His focus is on one thing and one thing only: the woman standing beside him. Katie is already pretty to begin with, but in here? She’s ethereal. The soft wave of her hair down her back, the blue light of the water on her face, the gleam of awe and fascination in her eyes…

Bob would be lying if he said he didn’t have feelings for Katie Garland - strong feelings. Hell, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say that he’s in love with her. He’s been in love with her, ever since the day they went hiking together at Pyles Peak. He may not have been entirely sure of those feelings before, but in here, in this room, after four weeks of morning coffee and classes and quiet (and not-so-quiet) moments together, he realizes two things - just how sure he is of his feelings, and equally how screwed he is. 

Surely there has to be a way to tell her. 

That’s the thing, though. There is a way, and Bob knows it - but it involves physical contact, and Bob’s not sure if that’s a gamble he should take. He’s lucky enough just to be friends with Katie; the thought of doing something that might compromise that friendship, that might push her away from him… It scares him. It scares the living shit out of him. After everything they’ve been through and done together in the last five weeks, it would be the worst damn thing to lose her like that. 

So why does the thought persist?

He breathes deep, watches a leopard shark glide past him. What he’s thinking of doing is risky - really risky, and if there is one thing that Bob doesn’t like doing, it’s taking risks. As a WSO, he can’t afford to take them; he needs to be sharp and on the money at all times, needs to know everything about everything and all their little in-betweens. Anything less than that will get him burned, and badly. He can’t take risks. He just can’t. 

But he also knows that if he doesn’t do this, he’s going to regret it for the rest of his life.  

Now or never, Bob. Now or never. 

Bob breathes, mumbles to himself, resigned but resolute - “Fuck it.” 

And then he does the unthinkable: he reaches over, turns Katie gently towards him with his hand on her cheek, and leans in. 

He feels her go stiff beneath him the instant he kisses her, and for a second, it’s all Bob can do not to panic, because oh fuck, fuck fuck fucking fuck, did he miscalculate the whole thing? 

But then, another second passes, and just when Bob thinks he’s destroyed this relationship beyond all recognition, Katie leans into him and returns the kiss, and… 

It’s as if the world just disappears around them. In seconds, the only thing that exists, the only thing that matters, is the feeling of her lips on his own, and suddenly Bob’s almost mad that he didn’t think to do this sooner. They’re soft, warm, gentle - her, in every way possible. It’s as close to a dream come true as Bob thinks he’s gotten in a while. 

When Katie finally pulls away, there’s no missing the blown-out appearance of her eyes, nor the way her chest stutters as she breathes. Surprised? Taken aback? Boy, both of those would be a hell of an understatement. 

“Well,” she says quietly. “That certainly changes things, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah, um… I guess it does.” Bob’s heart is racing, pounding in his chest as he watches emotions and the most miniscule of expressions fleet across Katie’s face. What is she thinking right now? Hopefully not that I’m a creep. The anxiety of all this might actually kill him.

But, if there’s one thing that the smile that blooms on Katie’s face makes clear, it’s that she’s not angry or upset. In fact, as she slips her hand into his, Bob realizes that she’s quite the opposite. It’s all he can do not to heave a sigh of utter relief. 

Risk calculation: successful. Very successful. 

“So… We gonna check out the rest of the aquarium or what?” 

Bob blinks. “Hm?”

“I mean, you did say something about looking at everything earlier - unless you’ve changed your mind and just wanna stare at me holding your hand now…” 

Heat floods Bob’s cheeks as he realizes that he has, in fact, been staring at Katie’s fingers interlaced with his own for far longer than he probably should. Smooth, Floyd. Real smooth. 

He smiles sheepishly at her. “Sorry. I’m just… I’m kind of in awe right now.” 

“Yeah?”

“Pretty girl like you returns a kiss I give her, and wants to hold my hand?” His bottom lip curls up and he nods, underscoring the point he’s trying to make. “Yeah, I’d say I’m in awe.” 

“Keep saying things like that and I might give you another one,” Katie jokes, eyes twinkling. 

Oh, I’d be the damn luckiest man if you did. 

“C’mon.” She squeezes his hand, draws him closer to her. “We’ve got more fish to look at.” 

Bob doesn’t even try to subdue the grin that splits across his face. He leaves it there for all the world to see, big, bright, and utterly filled with joy. This is quite possibly the best day of his life.

He’s never been so goddamn happy to have taken a risk. 

***

Not once does Katie let go of Bob’s hand the rest of the time they’re at the aquarium. She’s certain that if she does, she’s going to float away, drift off on a current of pure euphoria.

Or shock. Especially shock. 

Katie may be all smiles and laughs and bright eyes, but inside she’s a mess, a shaking, heart-pounding, slack-jawed mess. Bob Floyd kissed her. Bob fucking Floyd kissed her. She might’ve had the tiniest inkling that something was going to happen (after last weekend, how could she not?), but still… 

Color her fucking surprised. 

Is she, though? Is she really that surprised that something happened? 

Or is she more surprised that Bob beat her to it? 

Because truth be told, she had been contemplating doing the same thing to him back in the kelp forest exhibit. 

In hindsight, for as compelled as she was to do it, Katie doubts she would’ve been able to; her body had turned to lead and her feet had rooted themselves to the floor the moment they’d set foot in the exhibit room. No amount of resolve, bravery, or desire could’ve overcome that. No… In hindsight, Katie’s relieved that Bob acted first. No doubt he was just as nervous as she was, but… he did it. And she’s never been so glad for it. 

Now, here they are, one kiss later, holding hands and strolling shoulder to shoulder, wandering ‘round the aquarium as if they’re the only two people in existence… And what a grand feeling it is. It feels… 

Right. 

Hours go by - hours that feel like minutes. By the time they stop to think about it, it’s almost 1700 and closing time. They’re being all but herded out of the aquarium by staff, but they manage to convince someone to let them poke around the gift shop for five minutes. “In and out,” Bob tells them. “Promise.” 

Sure enough, he makes good on his promise, doing one quick orbit around the gift shop before confidently picking out a t-shirt and a baseball cap. “You planning on getting anything?” Bob asks Katie as he’s making his way to the front to pay.

“Eh, I thought about it, but probably not.” 

“Good.” He pays for his things, folds up and tucks the t-shirt under one arm before turning and handing the baseball cap to Katie. “This is for you. New gear to wear next time you go hiking.” 

The cap is dusty blue, emblazoned with ‘Birch Aquarium’ in white block lettering with a shark below it - nice and simple, definitely something she’d get for herself. Hell, she’d looked at it and considered buying it before making up her mind not to. Bob must have noticed her looking at it, because he’d plucked it out of the dozens of other hats on display without a second thought. For him to do that… 

Katie has never had anybody do that for her before. 

Her words are quiet as she takes the cap and attaches it to the strap of her purse. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know, but…” He smiles. “Seemed like a good way to wrap up a nice day.” 

This man. Good god. 

She feels the blush creeping across her face at his words, and on instinct, she ducks her head away - only to have her face turned back towards him. 

“You don’t have to do that, y’know. It’s cute when you blush.” 

Forget blushing. Scarlet rips across Katie’s face at that comment. 

“Jesus Bob,” she hisses with a giggle, “didn’t realize you were trying to kill me in public here.” She slips her hand into his, and pulls him out of the gift shop and the aquarium before anyone else has a chance to see how thoroughly red-faced he has her. 

And Bob? Bob laughs the entire way out. 

A few more hours later, they’re back at the Navy Lodge, bellies full after an impromptu dinner at In n’ Out, smiles on their faces after all kinds of conversation and not-so-subtle flirting. The day might not have started out as a date, but it did eventually turn into one, and Katie has to admit, after everything that’s happened today, she’s really fucking glad it did. No doubt Bob’s on the same page, she thinks briefly. 

They make it a point not to hold hands or have any sort of physical contact when they walk through the lobby and ride the elevator up to the third floor; they’re in new territory and need time to figure out how exactly to tread in it. That, and god forbid Fanboy or someone else in their class turns a corner and sees them doing that. There would be no end to the sly comments and innuendo from the others. 

But that doesn’t mean that they don’t hover as close to each other as humanly possible. 

Bob escorts Katie back to her room in relative silence, hand near the small of her back, body turned just the tiniest bit towards hers. He radiates warmth and it’s all Katie can do not to curl into him. 

“I know I took you by surprise earlier, but I hope you didn’t mind,” he says quietly when they arrive back at her room and she unlocks the door. 

Katie shakes her head. “Not at all.” When she tells Bob why, she’s certain she sees small stars fly across his eyes. 

“Man, my luck’s been real good to me lately… Would you, uh, want to meet up and do something tomorrow? I’m not sure what yet, but, uh… something.” 

Oh Bob, do you even have to ask at this point? 

“I’d love that.” She’ll happily do anything with Bob if it means getting to spend time with him in this capacity from now on. She likes this - what they have, whatever it is. She likes it a lot. 

Bob says nothing - simply smiles at Katie, nods his head once. He then turns to leave and head back to his room, but before he’s even taken a step, Katie’s hand around his wrist stops him, draws him back to her. Not yet, you. 

“Wait - is there anyone in the hall?”

“Uh” - Bob leans back, swings his head from one side to the other - “no, there isn’t, wha…”

Katie says nothing. She glances down the hall to her left, then to her right - then raises up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to Bob’s, right palm cupping his jaw, fingertips curling gently into the soft blond hair on the back of his head. It’s a short, simple kiss, barely three seconds long, but it reaffirms the one they shared earlier in the afternoon, the one that changed… well, everything. 

She gives him one more, just for good measure, then steps back. “There,” she beams. “Now that’s how you wrap up a nice day.” 

Bob says nothing; he simply stands there, staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at Katie, who has to cover her mouth with one hand to stifle her laughter. If she had known that initiating a kiss was all it would take to short-circuit Bob, she would’ve done it a lot sooner. 

When he’s able to collect himself a moment later, he coughs. “S’pose that’s fair payback for the comment I made earlier,” he mumbles sheepishly. 

“Yeah, I’d say so.” Her laughter soon dies away and her face softens. There’s one last thing she needs to say before they end things for the night. “Today was probably the nicest time I’ve had with someone in a long time.” 

A pause - a long one. “...Really?”

Katie nods. “Yeah.” 

Another pause. Then… A smile, the brightest, sweetest one he’s given her yet. “I’m glad.” 

If a smile could send her straight to heaven, this one absolutely would. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bob,” Katie all but whispers. 

He reaches out, gives her hand a single squeeze, then turns and strolls off down the hall, steps light and springing. It’s the last thing she sees before she closes the door and heads straight to her bed, ready to fall onto it in a mess of giggles and happy, dopey smiles. 

Of course, the last thing she sees has nothing on the last thing she hears - a single hissed “Yes!” from the farthest end of the hallway, a restrained cry of triumph. 

She laughs, curls herself around a pillow. That, right there. That is her favorite part of today. 

@thestagsheadsblog @everything-i-love-in-life @docdetective @luckyladycreator2

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob my beloved #top gun #movies #bob top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #female oc #robert bob floyd x female oc

[kawaii-slt]

so 😇😇

basically i was invited over to their house, and they gave me the option of either staying in their guest bedroom or on a dog bed in their bedroom

i picked the guest bedroom for the first night, but then the decision was kinda made for me the second night when the husband made me kneel on the floor and clean his shoes, and then he grabbed my hair and told me i was his bitch for the night and i should sleep where im told

but i don't want to get ahead of myself 😇😇

they were in their fifties, and we met through a mutual friend at an event, where we all got kinda drunk and started talking about kinks

my first actually sexual experience with them happened in the ladies bathroom that night where the wife and i were both there freshening up and she touched my tits

we were very drunk but i saw her tell her husband after we left, and i just knew my fate was sealed

so i went to their house and they told me that i would be helping them with some stress that they had been having recently

the husband gave me the option of wearing one of his wife's dresses or nothing at all

the dress was too big for me but i think he liked that

i started cooking them dinner and he kept talking down to me, kept calling me silly and stupid and brushing up against me until eventually the wife told him that i was trying my best and that we can't expect fuck toys to be good at cooking

she then made me sit on her lap and grind on her knee while she teased me

after dinner they tied me up and gagged me and made me watch them fuck. when he was finished he took out my gag and made me clean him, and then he made me eat his wife out to make her cum again. he then fingered me open to literally four fingers. he put two in straight away just to see if he could. he then sent me to bed with a slap on the arse and the knowledge that he would be doing so much more to me the next day

in the morning, the wife fingered me open again until i came, then plugged me and told me to go and make breakfast

while they ate breakfast i cockwarmed him, and when he was done he fucked my face and called me slut, then made me swallow and fed me breakfast with his fingers, literally only nibbles bc he had decided that they would be controlling my food for the weekend

the wife then swapped my plug for a vibrator and edged me while i did their washing up, and then spanked within an inch of my life when i dropped a mug

the husband put me in another one of his wife's dresses, and then took the vibe out and fucked me, calling me her name

he came in me and plugged me again

i was allowed to 'rest' for a while, which was just kneeling by their sofa while he fingered his wife to two orgasms, and then he let me grind on his shoe until i came

that's when i found out he had plugged me with the vibe, bc it instantly turned on and i was sobbing through a second immediate orgasm

i think i must've missed lunch bc the next thing i knew they were feeding me bits of food for dinner and letting me have sips of their wine, before they took me to bed. he fucked me again, then made me clean my shoe, called me a bitch and threatened to keep me like that forever

my next morning he fucked me again, the wife played with my tits and rode my face, then spanked me again, and then made me thank her for everything they had done. she made me call her mommy and suck on her tits while she grinded on me and came again, and then she inspected me to make sure the plug was secure and called me a taxi, making me promise to return the toy the next time we met

it was the most enjoyable and degrading weekend of my life and i cannot fucking wait to do something like that again

[dylandrhodes]

Like Blood and a Lemon

Dylan O'brien/ Reader fanfiction | W/c: 14.8k | Warnings: Explicit smut

Based on this ask request: can I request this “alternatively, they’re in a room full of people and somehow only register each other’s presence… one character sneaks away and the other follows and after a little banter they kiss in seclusion” for dylan please?

Um so! here have a whole entire mess of a big old fic? This got SO out of hand y'all, blame Dyl's slut era and my inability to be concise. My first smut in a long while so... Hope it's not too rusty? feedback would mean the world to me ❤️ I really really really hope you enjoy! AHhh 💗😊 also thank you @theinternetisfulloftrash and @dobrienwrites for the help with idea's/ encouragement and editing 😊😊😊😊😊

You knew he was here. 

You didn’t bother casting your eyes around the dimly lit outdoor space, the heat that prickled along the base of your neck was confirmation enough. You could never really narrow it down as to why his presence was consuming, a pulse in the centre of the room that needled under your skin, ran you hot, every time.  

Your personal running theory was that his big-headed “too cool for every room” attitude was so intensely repulsive that you could physically feel it, like a thick breeze, or more accurately, a bad smell in the air. 

You wrinkled your nose at the thought of his smug stance, hands in pockets and skimming gaze that never regarded anyone properly (he wouldn’t stoop so low as to make eye contact unless he had some biting remark to make to you). You lifted your champagne glass to your lips, letting the bubbled burn that kissed your throat and chest to distract you from the thought.  

The reception was packed; loud music filled the marquee and you enjoyed the moment of reprieve from the endless conversations that the night had been. You took a few steps closer to waist high oversized potted plant used to disguise one of the poles that held up the structure. 

After another long sip from your glass, you placed it down on the edge of the planter, lifted one foot just so to ease the pinch of your heel, rolled your ankle in a few circles to the left and then right before you repeated the same motion with the other foot.

Bridesmaid duties the past six months had been plentiful and consuming, rewarding, and fun… but also draining and expensive. Georgie was a long term friend, a girl you’d met in kindergarten and hadn’t left your side for too long since then. Through university, jobs, living in different states you’d remained close, and the offer to be in her wedding was a joy you couldn't pass up. 

However, helping organise the multiple pre-wedding events, the dress searching, and helping Georgie with any small thing she needed had been very tedious at times and you were looking forward to a weekend with nothing at all planned but a long nap and continuing your Criminal Minds rewatch. 

A small sigh crossed your lips as your hand reached across your body, hooked into the sore muscle of your shoulder and rubbed gently, a circle of your fingers to push the tension away. 

Your hand dragged up your neck and into your hair to pull free the literal handful of pins holding up the draping of your hairstyle. Now that the ceremony and pictures were over, you knew you could let your hair down, literally and metaphorically, and the crown of your head ached at the release. 

Once you’d dropped the pins into the edge of the planter, a promise in your mind to come back for them later, you combed one hand through your hair, took your glass in the other to finish the now somewhat warm champagne. 

The now warm bubbles weren’t as appetising but had helped take the edge of the tingle under your skin, the thrum through your spine, the one that told you he was still here, still near enough you couldn’t ignore it. The feeling was almost too familiar now, the kindling of disdain for the persisting awful company you kept finding yourself in these past six months. 

You reassured yourself it wouldn’t be too long till your girls returned from the bathroom and the chatter of friends would wash out the feeling of him, the anger that kissed at your pulse points in his presence.

The empty glass clinked as you placed it down once more on the wide lip of the concrete planter before your hands came to fuss with and smooth out the fabric of your dress. It was ankle-length and two-toned, the fabric that fit around your chest in a way that complimented the curve of your breasts was a deeper sage green and the length of the fabric from the fitted waist down was an almost pink ivory. 

Georgie may have sent you a little insane when she’d told you she’d rejected the fifth makeup artist she’d trialled and needed you to help her find another, but her persistent nature and attention to detail meant you had a gorgeous dress for the event. 

You sighed and cast your eyes around the space.  Your gaze caught the full and thriving dance floor, watching as women’s hair flowed and bounced, arms waving around their bodies, watched men laugh and push open their suit jackets as they rolled their hips. 

You surveyed the men of the crowd once more, an unconscious appraisal, searching for a glimpse of what if, of a smile worth seeking out later, even just for a dance... to get close- the song changed and bright laughter drew your eyes away. 

Your gaze caught on a couple by the bar; a woman who wouldn't be much older than you in a simple black gown, leant back into the arms of her partner, a tall blond man with kind eyes. 

His arms were bundled around her waist, hand flat near her hip, his wedding ring stark against the dark silk of her dress. They were swaying together now to the swell of music, and you watched as he pressed his mouth to her ear, whispered something that made her giggle again, shoulders arching in as her cheeks scrunched with happiness. 

Her hand met his on the low of her hip, tangled them together and she turned and faced him before she led her man out onto the dancefloor, walking backwards and mouthing the lyrics to him. 

Something blue and warm twisted from under your ribs, your breath caught and you blinked away the intimacy of the witnessed moment. You pressed your fingertips to the crest of your ribs, the soft skin between your breasts as if trying to soothe the invisible ache. You drew a lingering breath in, held it for a moment before you exhaled, let it go.  

Weddings always had a way of doing that, making love feel big, but like this tangible thing just out of reach, if only your arm reached a little bit further it could be yours too. It was the ache of that too always, the way your fingers could never quite wrap around it no matter how you tried. 

A sudden touch to the middle of your back between your shoulders made you jump from your thoughts. Startled, you spun around quickly as a gasp caught in your lips. 

“God touchy much? Jesus, girl, chill out” Dylan’s voice was low and firm, twisted in the usual tone of disdain it always held in your company, complemented by a patronising laugh at the end of his statement. 

You rolled your eyes and your arms crossed your chest as you regarded the man in front of you. 

Even in your heels you had to keep your chin tilted up to keep his gaze and you did so defiantly; you wouldn't give this man any kind of pleasure, even the simple pleasure of letting him think he intimated you with his height. 

“What do you want?” You huffed, straightened your spin to stand at your full height, and watched the smirk that tucked itself into his lips. The honey brown of his eyes appraised you, drew from your head down before his gaze flickered up to catch your own. 

A champagne glass was extended to you and you accepted, careful not to let your manicured hand touch Dylan’s, your brow curled upwards at the surprising gesture.

The glass was cold in your touch and you wished to press it against your neck, where warmth had begun to quell. 

It wasn’t because of Dylan - he didn’t intimidate you, even in the sharp lines of his tux or the fact he was actually keeping your gaze. No, it was just the end of summer and your hair was thick against your neck. 

“God you’d think I’d just offered you a loaded gun. Relax sweetheart, the waitress handed me the extra one to empty her tray and you were the person closest to me, I’m not making a move on you” He grumbled and rolled his eyes, lifted his own glass to his lips to take a long sip. 

You looked away as he swallowed, the line of his throat obnoxious in his tux and the crisp white collar of his shirt. 

You scoffed at his words, looked across at him as you pressed the rim of the glass gently to your bottom lip. The fiery contempt grew hot and frustrated in your chest. You hated that he was so good at pulling this out of you, how he commanded your attention, how you needed to see his discomfort, ached to break that stupid cool guy demeanour... just for once.  

“If that’s your move you might want to work a little harder big boy, no wonder you’re dateless tonight” You hummed and sipped the champagne, cold and crisp like you preferred and you chased the sweet bite of it with a lick of your lips. 

His eyes watched your mouth with a frown and angry curiosity. He had a way of looking at you like that like he needed to tell you off for something, like you personally were responsible for his poor mood. 

You’d seen Dylan be perfectly charming with others but when he engaged with you, it was like he was repulsed; all cut off sentences, short regards or it was digging teases, needling remarks to get under your skin, garnering a reaction. Just a game to win before walking away. 

You hypothesized that he simply wasn’t used to women calling him out on his shit, maybe you were one of the first people to just show him you were so completely disinterested in the 'cool boy' act. 

It was like he expected you to blush and giggle and push at his shoulder, agree with his jokes even when they didn’t really make sense or act interested in the way he’d drone on about some topic like an expert. He regarded you almost like he couldn’t understand you, you didn’t fit his usual script or some precedent he held in his mind. 

“Aw, you've been watching me? Checking I didn’t bring another woman tonight and break your heart?” he asked and you let out a dry cold laugh, swallowing your biting response demanding that of course you weren’t checking. 

You couldn't care less if Dylan was hopelessly dateless or bought a whole entire surprise wife along. It was just that it was hard to picture Dylan without some tall beautiful girl on his arm (as he usually had), if not the same girl he’d brought to the rehearsal dinner. Mainly you had wondered what poor girl he’d drag along to essentially ignore all night, like he tended to do. 

So yes, you’d be surprised to know he hadn’t used his plus one, again, not that you cared, but now you’d have to endure him going all smooth flirt Dylan trying to pick up since he was here alone. 

Before you could reply Dylan was speaking again, taking a step closer, making you tip your head back further to keep his eye contact. 

“Besides, it’s not me being alone tonight you should be worrying about, the whole ‘beautiful bridesmaid all alone at the wedding’ act really isn’t going to do it for most guys” He exhaled, a smug grin on his lips. 

“You know a smile wouldn’t hurt sweetheart, or a laugh... maybe even looking like you actually want to be here” His voice was low and condescending. 

You wanted to tip the end of his champagne glass as he sipped it, make him choke a little and sputter the alcohol all over his tuxedo. 

You swallowed your frustration, not letting him win by seeing your annoyance as you parted your lips and raised the hand not holding your glass to your chest. “Oh, Dyl” you said, paused for dramatic effect, because really- fuck this asshole. 

Telling you to smile more? 

Really? 

He had no idea how much you’d put in to make this day work. 

He would never care to think you’d been up since five, had problem solved a missing garter, sourced cat allergy medication for the bride’s mother and intercepted an uncle that was very much NOT on the guest list. 

Not to mention, you’d done it all with a bright smile on your face and in heels and a dress that while flattering, was tight on your chest with each breath (in truth half your energy had been making sure you didn’t spill out of said dress while running around like a mad woman)

The bastard had probably rolled out of bed after nine, had champagne with the other groomsmen and played video games in his boxers before taking his time to get into his tuxedo. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” your fingers trailed over the top of your breasts, found your gold pendant necklace and fingered the chain, forced yourself not to grin when you watched Dylan’s eyes fall to where you’d drawn his attention.

Boys, they really were so easy. 

“You don’t have to tease me like a lovesick little schoolboy just to tell me that, you know? You can just tell me, I can see how much you want to” You looked at him through your lashes, fluttering them in a few short blinks. 

You let your lips draw into a smile; a sweet grin you’d usually save for a boy you were actually interested in. In this case, playing the role of the coy agreeable girl Dylan always seemed to be frustrated that you weren’t. 

He almost faltered at your words, something in his eyes flickered sharp between blinks before he looked at you once more, eyes dark as he finished his drink, placing it down to the side before he tucked his hands into his pockets. 

Dylan took half a step closer, the corner of his jaw bunched, muscles jumped as he stared, quiet. He let out a soft exhale and his hand came up to touch a strand of hair that had fallen into your eyes, pushing it away as though it had personally wronged him. 

His eyes sharpened on you, a smirk twisted on his lips and he hummed. 

He dropped his hand to your bare shoulder, drew his fingertips along the line of it as he spoke. 

“Oh sweetheart, don’t play a game you’re not ready for” He all but whispered, close enough that the words were held between you like a secret. 

You could feel the heat of his body like this, smell the expensive clean scented cologne he wore, hear the intake of his breath. 

“Why?” You challenged,

“You scared I’ll win?” You continued, Your heart thrummed heavy and fast, the pulse in your neck fluttering under your skin, your throat tightened with a swallow. 

Dylan was close, the closest he’d ever been to you and it was kind of overwhelming - as much as you didn’t want to admit that. He was just all height and man and shoulders and had his intensity focused down on you. 

He smirked and shook his head. Dylan looked at you, brown eyes steeped in consideration and his hand dropped from your shoulder to retreat back into his pocket.  

“Sweetheart, we both know you don’t really wanna win, do you? You just want to make me work hard enough to prove to you I’m worth losing to, until I’m making you beg for me to win” His words were husky, low and deliberate, considering how they fell off his tongue. 

Oh. Beg. 

The heat that bloomed in the low of your stomach at that word surprised you, rushing up the centre of your body; a feeling as if you had missed the last step on a staircase or driven too quickly over a dip in the road. 

You were surprised at the tight pull behind your belly button, the twist of it; the way you wanted for just a moment, the need for more, to agree. It shocked you the way you felt the pull to draw closer, to keep Dylan’s eyes on you.  

He looked at you as his thumb and pointer finger took your chin in his firm hold, keeping you there as he hummed - a throaty sound - as if pleased at some answer he had found from just looking at you. 

“Yeah, thought so” He mumbled the words for himself and drew himself back with two careful steps. 

His eyes gave a heavy lidded blink as if suddenly coming back to himself and a hand reached up, lightly disturbing the handsome set of his styled hair. It was brushed back from his face, light gel holding it back in place, slightly askew now at his touch. 

Dylan’s hand tucked into the pocket of his jacket and pulled a smoke out between his pinched fingers. He lifted it to his mouth as if in reflex, a small frown marring his usual sure gaze, as if troubled by the action of drawing the unlit smoke to his lips. 

Dylan paused before he moved it instead up to be tucked behind his ear. His jaw jumped again as he looked up and past your shoulder, and a typical smug grin grew across his lips. 

His shoulders loosened, a hairline of a frown over his brow before his hand found his previously abandoned glass he collected himself with a sip of champagne. 

“Ladies” Dylan greeted with a nod of his head and you spun around to catch your three friends returning from the bathroom. 

Emily and Annie were a giggling mess half-tucked into each other's arms, fighting about something on the phone held between them. Olive, however, had her eyes sharply on you as she approached, gaze jumped between yourself and Dylan. 

“O'Brien” She nodded in greeting, the other two girls not caring to acknowledge him, tipsy laughter still spilling out from them as they seemed to be drafting a text of some kind, going off their bickering. 

Dylan nodded back, and tilted his glass at Olive in mocked cheers, used to the less than friendly regard. Olive hummed, unimpressed and looked at him blankly for a moment before her arm wrapped around yours, and she leaned against your side, her long hair brushing your bare arm. 

“Honey, Ems is finally texting headboard boy back after- well, you know- and we need your help” She requested and you quickly found the two other girls pressed into your space, a phone being pushed into your hands. 

“Please, come on you know you’re the best at d-” 

“Oooh my god” you laughed brightly, cut off Emily as you shook your head fondly 

“Okay, okay, I can help but I need more champagne” you laughed at your friend's happy little drunk cheers at your agreeance. 

Your cheeks flushed a sudden dark red, heat pricked at the back of your neck and your spine stiffened, the weight of eyes on you. 

You pulled your gaze up from the flurry of your friends, all curled hair and sweet perfumes, long nails pointing at the message. 

The tightness in your spine electrified when your gaze caught Dylan’s. 

He was already watching you with darkened eyes, staring shamelessly. His usual grin was replaced by the line of his firm pressed lips. Your breath caught. 

You raised your brows at him, a slight tilt of your head and a small grin as you glanced up, a silent ask of what he wanted. You waited for a roll of his eyes, a snarky comment before he made his exit to the dance floor. 

However he didn’t surrender; his gaze lingered, dropping over you like heavy rain and you shivered, your nipples pebbling against the satin of your dress. The intention was quiet, heavy and your heart thundered in your chest, you felt caught in his look. 

Your fingers curled tighter around the phone in your hold, and you swallowed thickly, lashes fluttered with a stuttered blink as you fought not to drop your gaze away. Dylan wouldn’t win this little game he’d decided to play, whatever it was, you wouldn’t allow him to. 

Dylan’s lips parted and his tongue brushed the swell of them in a quick pass. His hand reached to part the button of his blazer, hand tucked into his pants pocket. His eyes took you in once more, drew down over your neck shoulders - all of you. 

The familiar smirk grew across his lips once more, and he loitered for a moment longer before he gave a slight shake of his head and turned away from you. Your eyes dropped as soon as he stepped away, heat rushed heavy through your veins, and frustration singed at your pulse points. 

Your skin prickled cold with his absence and you tried to settle into your friend's rapid-fire words that were flurrying around you, tried to follow the words on the screen and make your thumbs coordinate with your brain and friend's suggestions. 

“What was that?” Olive’s voice was a low whisper in your ear and you just shook your head quickly, because... yeah, actually what the fuck was that? 

After another round of drinks and two sent texts later, you found yourself on the dancefloor crowded between Annie and a few unfamiliar faces, happily moving to the thudding bass of the music. 

The pair of you had tucked yourselves deeper into the crowd when you couldn’t chase the feeling of Dylan off your skin. Your body thrummed, your nerves had been awake and unsettled since that weird - moment, whatever you could even label it, and you had a feeling twisted through you that you couldn’t settle.  

The smug fuck probably was somewhere talking his way into some other girl's pants, riding high on making you feel uncomfortable, and teasing you. Dylan seemed to get some specific joy out of toying with you. It was like it was his favourite ego boost to feed off, content with pushing you until you snapped, or ignoring you to assert a feeling of power. 

You turned to face Annie, giggled as she leant back with a shimmy and her hands dragged up to ruffle her own hair. The heat of a body behind you made your pulse quicken, the feeling a man taller and wider than you, until you saw a flash of blond over your shoulder. Something cold bit through you, it wasn't that you wanted it to be Dylan- it was just, you kept expecting him- waiting for the punchline of his intense gaze earlier to be dropped on you. 

Although, for a moment there he’d really looked at you like- you shook your head and closed your eyes, felt large hands fit at your waist and you leant back into the hold, focused on moving to the music and the new body behind you. 

The driving fire in the pit of your stomach felt like a hunger, and you knew it was the lingering need to correct Dylan. To call out the way he had pinned you earlier with his words, spoke to you like he knew you, like he had any reason to be concerned with your satisfaction, like he knew what you wanted, needed, the arrogan fucker. 

He’d addressed you like you were some lost little girl, like you were some fool, like Dylan knew something you didn’t. 

You huffed in frustration at the memory of his smugness; of each moment over the past few months at the events leading up to the wedding itself. The way Dylan would go out of his way to single you out, making a calling comment that drew attention to you in a crowd. Only to then completely ignore you when you attempted to place nice for the sake of your betrothed friends. 

Your mind lingered on the way he’d trotted around beautiful dates to the engagement party and rehearsal dinner, as if they were some accessory, how he’d stare whenever you’d make the effort to speak to them as if affronted you felt you could interact with these women. 

Resentment banded across the line of your shoulders, chest, the intake of your breath rattled with frustration - resentment at yourself for the moment of weakness where you’d craved his approval, his touch when he’d crowded you close. 

You resented the way he made you want him when you couldn’t stand him, the way you felt no better than the other girls he so easily played. 

You squeezed your eyes tightly shut and shook your head, felt your hair stick slightly to the light sheen of sweat on your back from the last hour or so of dancing surrounded by warm bodies. 

You reached a hand back to wrap around the neck of the man who was dancing with you now, body swaying with his. His hands kept a respectful grip on your sides, and you indulged in the contact, the brush of his broad chest against you. 

The music swelled from one song to another, the thrumming beat loud in your ears and you tried to let yourself fall into it, to ignore the pacing of your mind over the one man you didn't want to think about. 

You tipped your head back and let it find the man's shoulder to rest against as you pressed that breath closer, only mildly disappointed when his hands stayed safely above your hips. You’d have let him push it a bit further if he had tried. 

With a rush of body heat, you felt Annie press closer to you suddenly and your eyes fluttered open, her hands took yours in her own and you locked your eyes with hers. She gave an approving little nod as her eyes flickered up to the man pressed to you, a grin on her lips, her silent way of confirming he was hot. 

You let out a bright laugh at your friend’s not so subtle approval, fondness warm for her and returned the wink she sent you as you watched her raise her arms over her head, backing away from you and resume her dancing. 

You closed your eyes once more, more determined than ever to push Dylan from your mind, with a handsome man pressed close, swaying his hips in time with yours. 

Fuck Dylan and his stupid boyish games, and his way of getting in your head and his face, and the way he looked down at you with the width of his shoulders. 

Fuck the way he called you sweetheart, the smell of him, the span of hands, his fingers, the warm honey brown of his eyes-  your groaned  and your brow fell into a light frown, the champagne must have gone to your head. Too much too fast or something. 

Sure… he was obviously handsome, in that way that couldn’t really be ignored, but you’d never thought about him like that, really, you hadn’t. 

(Okay maybe that one time but there was a lot of tequila involved and a mechanical bull and you were sure there wasn't one person in that bar who hadn't been thinking the same thing you had) 

Looks aside, all but completely unconsidered to you, he was just infuriating cocky Dylan, you really didn’t need him to become 'HOT infuriating cocky' Dylan. 

You blinked your eyes open, hoping to catch sight of the waitstaff with a tray of bubbles nearby, just one more glass to clear your head. A distraction. Or maybe something to share with this new stranger, get to know him better. 

Your gaze drew across the busy room, the moving bodies, the bride on top of the groom's shoulders, she laughed loud and bright into the night air the strung up fairy lights reflected off the details of her dress, before they finally settled on the inevitable; on Dylan. 

He was at the edge of the dancefloor, his tuxedo jacket open, the crisp white of his shirt fitted handsomely against his torso. His hands were in his pockets, shoulders relaxed and he was watching. He was watching you, eyes dark and resolute and unmoving, his face relaxed, sure, the set of his jaw certain. 

You stuttered your next breath, a shaky inhale through your nose as you felt the entire weight of his eyes on you, pinning you. Your heels felt bolted to the floor and your knees felt weak, the room fell to a hush around you and your eyes kept in the line of Dylan’s, even as bodies swayed and moved between you he remained, gaze constant. 

Maybe this was his punchline, the way you couldn’t look away from him, the way your heart kicked in a rhythm of “yes”, the way the hands on you felt too big, fingers too thick, grip too heavy, the body behind you all wrong.  

You breathed, and you wanted, and you couldn’t look away. 

Dylan seemed to finally acknowledge that you had met his stare. Who knows how long now he’d been watching you, seemingly without a care for what was happening around him. His lips drew into a small grin, his look knowing. Dylan's eyes gave a small flicker up to the body behind you and his brow frowned, tilting his head back in a small gesture and his lips parted with what you could only assume was a low, clipped laugh. 

“Oh please,” he mouthed, the word steeped with sarcasm even in the silence of it, just in the way you saw his mouth form it. His lips were twisted in distaste, utter disapproval. 

You pressed your lips together and felt the anger that had built in your chest ignite with a deep, drawing inhale, like a flicker of a match in a gasoline wet room your body ran hot - burning. Your fingers curled into fists and you rolled your eyes at him, you wouldn’t let him win, you just couldn’t. 

He didn't give in to your admittedly childish push back; he just shook his head ever so slightly and kept his gaze on you, looking down through the line of his gaze, eyes assured. He had height over you still somehow, even at this distance. 

His hand reached up and he plucked the smoke from behind his ear, pinched it between his thumb and pointer to place it between his lips. The smoke rested there as he pulled a lighter from his trouser pockets, and fidgeted it between his long fingers. He raised his brows at you a final time before he turned his gaze away. 

Dylan lingered a moment longer, allowed you to keep your eyes on him as he turned, and made his way through the crowds and out past the light of the Marquee, till he was just a shadow getting smaller with distance. 

You took a deep breath, paused, placed your hands over the ones on your waist and eased them away in a gentle touch, with a twist of your body you were free and walking out after Dylan.

It didn’t take too long to find him, a straight shot of where he’d exited from the large marquee. The night air was prickling and fresh against your skin and you shivered as you followed a path that led down to a garden on the lower section of the estate. 

The marquee was on the main lawn, overlooked the acreage of the land that sprawled out below it, a smaller garden tucked below the balcony led to by a stone staircase from the upper lawn. 

Most of it wasn't visible from the marquee or main lawn, even where it let out to a sandstone balcony of sorts. You only knew of its existence because the photographer had chosen it as a location for some of the bridal party photos earlier in the day. 

You’d gone on gut feeling he’d be there, the same feeling that told you when you had his gaze, so you were barely surprised when you found him leant against a half stone wall at the edge of the garden, head tilted back as he exhaled smoke into the air. 

He almost looked like a shadow, only illuminated by the bright light of the moon and the fairy lights wrapped through the occasion tree in the garden. He didn’t look at you, but you knew he’d heard you, the sound of your heels against the gravel, knew he’d noticed you from the way his chin turned just slightly towards you before he spoke.  

“You get what you want?” 

His voice washed over you, through you, fuel to the fire and you rolled your eyes, sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and crossed your arms in front of you, a feeble barrier to the way your heart was pounding out of your chest. 

“What do you think?” you asked, surprised at the way your voice carried out just above a whisper. The words had sounded different in your head, stronger, more biting and sarcastic. Off your lips, they had sounded seeking, a question, a surrender. 

Dylan chuckled, gazed at his feet as he shook his head. 

He lifted the cigarette up to his lips and drew in a long pull, dropped it away from his lips and held the smoke for a beat. He looked at you and smirked. 

Faint smoke bloomed from his nostrils as he exhaled shortly before he blew the rest from between his pursed lips as he watched you, and his finger tapped the cigarette to let the ash fall by his feet. 

“You’re out here with me, so no, I don’t think he was giving you anything close to what you want” Dylan said and licked his lips. 

Heat pulsed in your chest, through the centre of you, your arms dropped to your sides and a shiver rushed through you that you did your best to suppress. 

“You were the one who couldn’t seem to look away” you retorted, the words soft once more, lacking the heat of your intention. 

Dylan hummed and nodded, a simple shrug of his shoulder, as if surrendering to the accusation. 

Dylan took a short draw and exhale of the cigarette and then three steps closer to you, until you could see the slightest shadow of stubble that had begun to push through from his clean shave for the event. 

He dropped the smoke to the floor between you, stepped on it with the sole of his dress shoe as he moved closer still. His hand raised to take your cheek in his hand, the depth of his eyes on you. 

“Oh baby, why would I look away when you look so pretty pretending you don’t know what you need is right in front of you” Dylan’s voice was a low rumble and his breath smelt of cigarettes and champagne, the smallest hint of mint under it all. 

His thumb drew down over your cheek in a tender brush, till the pad of it came to rest to the left of the pout of your lips. 

“Watching you dance in that dress, remembering the way you looked when I told you I knew you wanted to beg me, it was hard not to watch” Dylan’s eyes were sinister, heavy and the intention in the depths of them made your breath quiver. 

You felt your chin tilt up just so, goosebumps bloomed up your neck from his simple touch, the way your chest pressed against the fitted fabric of your dress with each inhale. 

“You snobby, egotistical, entitled little brat... thinking you can just talk to me like that, like you know me, like you have some right to me! Toying with women for the ego boost, all these big words but when it comes down to it I doubt you can even m-” 

The fingers that had been resting lightly on your cheek dug in, thumb moved to the other side of your cheek and gripped just enough for your lips to purse, words cut off with a short inhale of surprise. 

He cut you off with a low whisper of your name - a warning? a question? A tease? you couldn't tell. 

He repeated it once more and you felt his exhale against your lips, his head bowed closer until your eyes closed without thought, heart hammering somewhere heavy in your throat. 

“Be nice” he whispered. 

Dylan let out a soft sound from the back of his throat, an exhale passed between you two and then he was closer still, and then Dylan was kissing you. 

The press of Dylan’s lips against yours was rough and consuming, a dry pressure of lips to yours, a hint of the taste of him before a rasp of stubble with the tilt of his head.  His thumb took your chin, slid up under your bottom lip to tug down just slightly, just enough to keep your lips parted, before his tongue wet and warm licked into your mouth. 

If you thought you’d been on fire before you didn’t know how to describe the way Dylan’s touch had consumed you. 

Not fire, not now, not something eating and destroying. It was like Dylan had let waves build inside of you, like your body was the weight of the tide, twisting deep ocean pull that dragged you under, softened the sound of the world to your ears. 

It was only a tease of the tongue before he drew back, lips brushed yours as he lingered. His arm wrapped tight around your waist and pulled you in firmly, bodies drew together until your breasts were pressed to his chest and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his breathing. 

“Be nice” he repeated, a mutter against your lips and let out a short exhale before he was kissing you deep and dirty, licking into your mouth in a way that made your head spin, your pulse kicking in your throat. 

You shivered and let him kiss the breath out of you; let his hands hold you up, let him press your hips together and make your mind wash blank.

Dylan. Dylan’s hands on your body. Dylan kissing you like he couldn’t breathe without your mouth. Dylan making you want to beg for more, like he’d so smugly bragged to you. 

You pulled back suddenly with the thought, the slick sound of your lips parting loud in the night and you were breathless, panting, as you spoke low and rushed.

“This doesn’t mean- you don’t, just because we, I still can’t stand you or your ego, you’re still a-” Dylan cut you off with a low huff, his hands gripped you tighter, pulled you closer and he kissed you just once, a comsuimg wet brush of lips. 

“What did I say baby? Be nice, for just a little bit, I know you can be. Don’t you want to be good for me, if I make it good for you? Let me give you what you deserve” He spoke low and husky and something within you sprung loose, like a wound up coil that slipped. Dylan was under your skin and you wanted him inside you too, you wanted him to drive his body into yours and make good on the long looks and promises, you wanted him to prove it. 

You wanted him, and you weren’t strong enough to stop yourself any longer. 

The waves that he’d filled you with were breaking over each other - the white wash buzzing through your veins as you pushed onto your toes and wrapped your arms around Dylan’s neck, pulling him into you. 

Your lips met again, feverish and hot, Dylan’s hand slid from your waist to the low of your back, fingers fisted the satin of your dress as he pressed you closer still, your hips formed to his. 

His other hand found the back of your neck, fingers pushed up into your hair and held your head in place and angled it for himself as he curled his body down over you to kiss you deeper, making up for the way he towered over you. 

He pressed closer still, moving into you and your back arched as you keened up into the warmth of Dylan’s body, on the high of your toes with your head tipped back to keep the kiss going. 

You wavered, almost stumbled when Dylan’s hand found your arse; skimming over it with an open palm before he gripped gently, an appreciative groan ripped from his throat. Your heart pulsed at the needing sound, and your belly hollowed with a shaking breath between parted lips before you kissed again, chasing the taste of him. 

Dylan’s other hand moved from the back of your neck to the front of it, the pad of his thumb found the hollow of your throat and strummed a single touch that made goosebumps rush down your arms, your nipples peaking. 

You pulled back from Dylan, drew in a shaking breath and watched the determined furrow of his brow before his face was tucked against the curve of your neck, lips kissing between gentle grazes of teeth, mapping the skin. 

You whimpered and your feet stumbled again, swayed with the weight of Dylan pressing into you, the way his hands pulled and his body dove into yours at the same time. He grunted into your skin and both his hands moved quickly to your hips, turned with you and between a kiss to your neck and his teeth on your earlobe your back was pressed to the stone wall he’d been leant against earlier.  

The support of the wall had you back on your toes, your hand found the back of Dylan’s head to pull him away from your neck. Breathless, and the skin of your neck tingling from his attention you leant up to him again, seeking his mouth. 

He paused before you could meet and licked his lips, one hand on your cheek. 

“Alright?” he asked, the hand on your hip squeezing as he crowded you against the wall, body hot and pressed completely to yours. 

You nodded, distracted, wanting his mouth and not thinking much past it, the wall had stopped the weakness of your knees, allowed Dylan to press closer still and that was all that mattered. You tilted your head back and parted your lips just so, leaned up silently asking for him to bridge the distance, to come back to you and keep kissing you. 

He dipped closer but not close enough and you bit back a whine that was climbing up your throat. 

“What?” You snapped at him instead, brow raised. 

“I want to hear you say it, not just a nod... all of this alright?” Dylan asked in a whisper and you ignored the sweet pinch in your chest. 

“I thought you promised to give me what I need?” You replied, flushed at the notion of telling Dylan you wanted him, this, showing him was one thing, but admitting was another. 

“Don’t do that, tell me” Dylan breathed, ignored your attempt at distraction, didn’t take the bait, the fight you wanted. 

“Dylan” you mumbled 

He smirked and his lips pressed to the right of your mouth, a soft kiss that he trailed across your cheek and to the hinge of your jaw, till his lips were against your ear. 

His hand found the dip of your waist, fingers drew till his thumb found the space between your breasts, his fingers resting against the skin just below the curve of it.  

“Come on, just tell me... tell me and then it's yours, baby, tell me you want this with me and I won’t stop unless you say. I’ll work you till you're finally satisfied. If you let me... want me… I need you on me until we can’t anymore; so just tell me.” Dylan breathed

You bit back another whine that fought at your lips and you nodded quickly, shivered when his teeth bit into the side of your neck and sucked the skin briefly before he let it go. 

“Dylan, please, I want you, I want you to touch me, make me feel good just- come on, kiss me” Your hands gripped at Dylan’s shoulders and pulled and he finally gave in. 

Dylan's hand fell to your hip, dragging you into him as your mouths met hotly again. A sigh of relief passed your lips and your fingers found their way into his hair and they gripped, rough when his tongue licked hotly over yours. 

His fingers gripped at your hip and then found your thigh, lifted it to fit around his waist, anchoring you to his body as he pressed in closer, until your lower back was flush with the wall behind you. You were trapped between the solid line of the wall and the firmness of Dylan. 

Your hand twisted in the front of his shirt as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, you shuddered into him and the ocean in your stomach rolled in steady crashing waves, over and over, coming into the shore. 

Dylan’s hand pushed up from between your breasts and found the strap of your dress, slipped his fingers underneath and wound it in his grip till the fabric was even tighter against your breasts. 

He pulled away breathless, pressed his forehead to yours and stared down at the thin strap he was holding, shook his head as his gaze drew to the curve of your cleavage. He twisted the strap tighter again, made your breast lift, push up just over the cup of the dress. 

“Fucking, driving me, crazy, these tiny straps” he gritted out, shook his head and a familiar look of frustration crossed his face, but it felt totally different now, the thundering look on his eyes when his hands were gripping you greedily. 

“All fuckin’ night just these tiny little straps” he cursed under his breath, shook his head as his fingers eased the strap out of his touch and let it lay back against your skin. 

He skimmed his fingers across the top of your chest, and his mouth was soon to follow the path of his fingers. He sucked hungry kisses from your shoulder to your chest, wet drags of lips and occasional slip of greedy tongue on your skin. 

Dylan all but nuzzled his cheek against your left breast as one hand found the strap again, slipped it off your shoulder and you felt it fall down the outside of your arm. His fingers brushed the bare skin before he made quick work of the other strap, both hands coming up to free your arms from the straps. 

“Couldn’t stop looking at you all day, all fucking day, you in this dress, the fucking devil I swear, should have had my hands on you all night, all day, you let me have you and I would never last without having my hands on you like this” His voice was strung out, wanting. 

His hand found your thigh once more, tugged you in tighter until the hardness pressing against his pants found the heat of you covered by the thin fabric of your panties. Even though the fabric, the promise of him had you clenching, electricity wound tight from behind your belly button and pulsed up through your chest. 

Your hips rocked to find the weight of him once more, a rush of friction that made you shiver, his fingers digging into your thigh until his nails stung you. You gasped and your head fell back just as Dylan’s fingers hooked into the fabric where it met between your breasts and tugged down with a rough grip, until the fitted fabric was underneath them, and the your breasts were exposed, your nipples pebbling harder in the cold night air. Dylan’s hand cupped you, thumb found your nipple and drew over it as his mouth found the other breast, kissing at the newly exposed skin “Pretty fucking girl, pretty fucking tits” He muttered hotly into the skin.   

Your shoulders quivered with the shake that zapped through the centre of your body, the way your core twisted with divine pleasure at the tortured sounding compliment. His lips tongue and teeth made work of your skin still he found your nipple and kissed the bud of it, sucked at it gently until you gasped and arched your back, a hand fell to his head to hold him there. 

He groaned in response, sucked and licked the flat of his tongue in a greedy taste of you, made the skin ache in his mouth until his teeth sunk in to soothe it, grazed down til his teeth found the bud of your nipple and bit, tugged in a way that made you swear, nails dug into the back of his head. 

“Dylan” you whimpered, unable to help the plea of his name, the way his mouth devouring your breasts made you roll your hips, the pulse of your clit heady and wanting in the depth of you, chasing pressure, touch. 

Your cunt pressed hot against the shape of his full cock in his pants, and the contact was an immediate craving you ached to satiate, you needed, needed. His hand dropped from your breast, mouth moved to the other, not yet wet from his saliva, not bearing the marks of his teeth. 

His now free hand quickly found the swell of your ass, took a handful and wound your waist down onto him, giving you the rush of friction that made your mouth drop open in a punched out gasp. 

“Yes” the word was barely spoken, mouthed as you dropped your head forward, cheek pressed to of Dylan’s hair. 

“Yes, so good, you’re so good” 

Dylan muttered, punctuated the words with small pressing thrusts of his hips into yours, little rolls of his hips that let you feel the shape of him, the head of his cock where it was thicker, the length of it all. 

You ached, your stomach twisted sharply with need and your cunt throbbed desperately in your panties, a small gush of wetness dampening them now, with the way Dylan was roughly riding himself against you. 

“God, god” Dylan praised hotly under his breath between kissing at the skin between your breasts and his hand pulled you tighter to him, gripped your ass, keeping your body anchored to his, the pressing of your hips a rhythmic crash, the ache between you thick and growing. 

You whined when his fingers found your breast once more, pinched at your nipple as his mouth took yours, wet and hot, tongue searching. you hooked your leg tighter around your hip as he continued to drive your body into the wall, the fabric of your dress catching on the stones behind you. 

You slipped a hand down toward the heat of your bodies, where you were pressed close and tried to blindly find the button of Dylan’s slacks, interrupted by his belt, you wanted more, you needed skin, touch, you needed him to give you more. 

“More” You whispered into his mouth between dizzying kisses, hand fumbled at his waistband, drunk in your hunger for him. 

“Dyl” You muttered out of frustration, found the shape of him hot and thick over the fabric of his trousers, your palm cradled him, fingers massaging, grasping.

Your other hand slipped down and found his belt, tugged at the thick leather and tried to feed it through the loop only for your fingers to catch and stumble over it. Dylan’s hand found yours, laced your fingers with his and drew it up tp place your hand on his chest. 

“Like this” he muttered and bit his way down past your chin to your throat, kissing and sucking wetly at your skin. His hands gripped tight to your lower back and ass, encouraged the roll of your hips into him once more, shifted you to fit his thigh between your legs. 

He tugged your body down with the next drag of your hips and you gasped wetly, at the pressure of his muscular thigh against your aching center. You hiccuped a breath at the heat that pulsed through you, stars began to shiver behind your eyelids. 

“There we go” He breathed, his voice thick with satisfaction as you half opened your eyes, a dazed blink that caught his gaze on you, dark and heavy and hot. You whined, barred your hips down over and over in small rocks that had the dampness of your panties dragging against the slightly rough fabric of his suit pant leg. 

“That’s it baby” He encouraged and you shivered, his hand gripped your ass before letting his palm flatten, pulled you in and down at the same time he pushed his thigh up. The pressure made your hands fist in the front of his dress shirt, pull at the neatly pressed white material and bunched it thickly until it untucked from his pants all together. 

He pulled your whining mouth back to his own, licked into it in a claiming kiss, kissing you soundly until you had to pull away for a hiccuped breath as you wove your hips in a hungry figure eight. 

The night air was heavy around you, hot and holding you up, you felt draped across it breathless and needing. 

On the next roll of hips, you drew yourself closer, shifted and hooked your leg higher over Dylan’s waist until the heat of your cunt pressed itself to the heft of his bulge once more. 

“No, like this” You whispered, arched your back to press your cunt harder to him, small rocking thrusts of your hips that had you aching for him, had you empty and needing

Dylan groaned low and throaty and with a breath his hand was pressed between you two, cupping your cunt, thumb drawing over the fabric of your panties in a soft fidget like he couldn’t help himself.

“Fuck, sweetheart you wanna give me this so bad, don’t you? You’d let me fuck you right here against this wall, get you on my cock and chase away the ache huh? You’d let me make a mess of you right here baby I know you would let me- god” 

His words choked off with desire and he kissed you with a firm press of lips before he softened, sucked gently at your bottom lip as he kissed you, slowly tonguing you.

You flushed hot at the words, breath rasping as your thighs squeezed, you would- you wanted. 

He pulled away at the same time his thumb began to rub teasingly light circles over the centre of you. 

“Oh baby, you just wanna be good for me and take my cock, don’t you? Want us both to feel good, can feel you’re already wet for me, god” Dylan sounded torn as his thumb found the edge of your panties, eased into the heat of it, found the slickness of you in a feather-light touch. 

You nodded shakily, pushed your hips into his touches, impatient. 

“Can’t fuck you here though baby” he whispered, voice sweet like a secret in the night air, words kind and low, curling around you. 

“I can’t, not against this wall, gotta do you on a bed sweetheart like you deserve” 

Frustration twisted sharp it the center of you, at the notion of the loss of his touch, of him playing games again.

“Don’t give me that bull- oh” your words fluttered at the feeling of the pad of his thumb gently caressing the tender skin of where your thigh met the hottest part of you. 

“That bullshit, Dylan, I’m not some little princess, I know what I want Dylan I want you, I want you to fuck me, I want you cock inside me, out here against this wall, I don’t care, I don’t need a bed” you pressed closer to him with the words, kissed your way across his jaw to his hot mouth, sucked at his bottom lip until his mouth parted and he kissed back, his hands gripped you tighter. 

Yes yes yes you thought, finally, he’d give you what you wanted. 

Just as you went to adjust your hips to help his thumb find you properly, touch you how you wanted, Dylan pulled back from the kiss and his thumb pulled away to lay over your panties once more. 

He shook his head tightly in reply, caught your jaw in his fingers and held you still, looked at you with dark eyes, as if considering you, fighting himself on something, weighing out the option.  

“Dylan” you whispered, asked, pressed yourself to his body, bare breasts warm against the rough brush of his dress shirt. He shook his head and your lips parted to argue with him once more, scared he’d deny this again, deny what you both needed, but he was quick to delve back in to kiss you hotly. He took your mouth for himself his fingers resumed his teasing over the fabric covering your pussy from him. 

“No I can’t, god baby-” he cut himself off with a huff, his forehead pressed to yours, his hot breath against your lips, pressed closer to you in a way that made your legs part further, the centre of you aching. 

“I won’t be able to hold back when I’m inside you sweetheart, I won’t trust myself be careful with you- Need somewhere soft and warm to pin you down and ruin you don’t I? Need something I can press you into, not gonna hurt you. Not unless you want it from me” he rambled and his cupped fingers tapped a soft smack over your pussy, lingered before he smacked it once more before his thumb smoothed down, soothing. 

Your cunt clenched at the touch, his words and you tightened around the emptiness inside you, wetness blooming further into the soft white fabric Dylan was toying with. 

“God fine. But Dylan, please- then, I want” you gasp, tears pinch your eyes and you needed it, you ached with it you can't pull yourself away, not now not when he’s got his fingers so close to taking you, not when you’ve got the promise of him under you. 

He can’t be asking you to stop now, he can’t be saying he can’t do this here not when he’s driven his body into yours like this, shipwrecked you in his hands, halfway taken apart by him. 

Your hips chase up into his touch, greedy and you nod almost desperately when he finally presses his fingers just hard enough to make electricity throb from your clit, your pussy swollen with its desire, blooming under his touch. 

“Yes, yes I want that” you mumbled, a shaky breath as his fingers gentle circled, the friction hot and barely satiating but enough to help the ache of your whole body. 

“Oh baby” he whispered, and a hand found your winding hips, gripped them still as his fingers found the edge of your panties and pulled the fabric down till his, fingertips finally found the wet heat of your pussy. 

You whimpered, arms wrapped around his neck and a hand gripped to the back of his neck, nails biting. “Dylan” 

“Wet, so pretty and wet” Dylan said under his breath, stared down where his hand was taking you, watched his own finger as he parted the folds of you, just enough to make you feel emptier somehow, aching. 

“You need this, don’t you? Need me to make it better, feel you- Can’t just let me try and treat you right can you? Pushing this pussy against me, begging me to fit this cock into you, like it's not all I can think about- can’t let me do this right, fuck” Dylan gruffed out and you shook your head. 

You bit your bottom lip sharply, blood rushed your ears and you wanted to smack the side of his handsome head, his fingers were so close to where you wanted them, you just needed to be full of him. 

“Never made it easy for you, m’not gonna start now” You breathed, reached down and found Dylan’s wrist, fingers wrapped around it as if you could urge him closer, but Dylan resisted your touch easily, kept his fingers determined in the barely-there strokes over you.  

“You fucking impossible woman” Dylan’s voice was a whisper and he shook his head before one of his fingers pushed inside you to his knuckle. He let you adjust with one breath before he drew back and pushed back inside with a second finger tucked beside it, till they sat at the hilt in your pulsing wetness. 

“Fuck” you bit off in a whimper, “oh my god fuck Dylan” you mumbled, your cunt tightned around him, breath trembled through your body as pleasure hollowed your stomach. 

“Beautiful, impossible woman” he uttered, voice broken and a little depraved like pushing inside of you had pulled him open as well. 

He let out a soft sound, somewhere in his throat and his fingers tucked up in a loose curl, the pads of his fingers gently stroked inside where they met the heat of your walls. 

“Oh” You whimpered, voicy pitching and your head fell back, suddenly too heavy with pleasure to hold up again longer and hit the wall behind you with a thunk, your ears washed with the sound of your heartbeat and your cunt clenched, arms tightening around Dylan’s neck. 

A soft mewl passed your lips and your head pressed back against the stones as your body tried to squirm out of the pleasure that was aching through you, from your knees to your stomach to the arches of your feet. You felt your cheeks flushed hot, your body on fire as you stumbled over your breaths. 

“There we go” Dylan breathed, his breath against your ear as his cheek pressed to yours, hand moved to your neck, up to the base of your skull, found it’s way between your head and the wall and cradled it in his hold. 

“Take it so well, don’t you” His voice was low, hot and you were melting in his arms. His two fingers crooked steadily in their position inside you, pressed deep and firm and hot, over and over again pulsing pleasure heavy and thick through your veins like honey. 

“More ” You mumbled and rocked your hips down, taking, and tightened your arm around Dylan’s neck as your body weakened under his touch, hazily chasing the pleasure. 

“More” you moaned again, arm tugged at Dylans neck, thigh squeezed at his side when he didn’t change the steady pace of his fingers.  

“Be. nice.” Dylan answered. 

“Trouble being good even when I’ve got two fingers in your cunt hm? Know you can be good sweetheart, don’t you wanna be good for me? I can give you what you need if you’re a good girl” he pulled back to look at you as he spoke, your eyes half lidded as you struggled to watch him, thick pleasure drawing you down, a heavy weight pitching you on the width of Dylan’s fingers, anchored to where he touched you. 

“Oh you do wanna be a good girl, don’t you, felt the way you got so nice and tight around my fingers when I said that hmm, you like that don’t you sweetheart” he whispered and your body trembled, nipples hardened tight and you tipped your head further back, into the weight of Dylan’s palm, the grip of his long fingers in your hair. 

He smirked before his mouth found your tits again, lips teeth and tongue praised the skin, wet kisses and pulling bites, a small bruise that bloomed half over your nipple before he finally released you from the bite of his teeth. 

You whined, fingers scrambled as they buried into Dylan’s hair, gripped sharply and twisted, held him to your chest. Your thigh trembled as you fought to hitch it higher over Dylan’s hip, opening yourself to him further, giving him all of you, whatever he wanted. 

Dylan hummed against your tits, small greedy kisses as his fingers drew out briefly only to press back in, now three fingers wide, drew out again as he started a steady rhythm fucking you on his hand. 

Your breath punched out in a broken whine, and your head dropped back like a puppet who’s strings had been cut, the full weight of your head now cradled in Dylan’s hand. He released your tits from his lips with a slick sound, pressed your bodies tightly together and gazed at you as his fingers fucked you. 

“I know, I know” Dylan’s voice soothed and lips were soon on yours, his grip tilted your head up so he could meet your mouth and you kissed him with the need his fingers were fucking into you. 

Starlight kissed and burned at your pulse points, your wrists, arms, neck, the tender skin where your thigh met the centre of you, hot licks of joy eating you as he drove his fingers into you over and over and over. 

Dylan was knuckle deep and the thrusting of his fingers paused, went back the filthy curl of fingers, three wide in the deepest part of you he could reach. Your breath quivered, hands slipped from his hair, around his neck and down his shoulders, pulling at him, gripping whatever you could take, touching as you let your body dissolve into heat and pure pleasure, a livewire tangled in his man. 

Dylan swayed forward suddenly as a distant murmur of voices and laughter from above you washed out into the night air. He pressed as close as possible, eyes sharp and body still as he listened, the gentle fucks of his fingers slower now, but the only part of his attention you still held. His eyes stayed stuck on the small lip of balcony you could see to the left of you, you were almost under it, mostly out of sight from where it looked out but not entirely. 

You watched his jaw jump thickly and you leant in to kiss the flexing muscle, nuzzle at his flushed red cheeks. With his face turned the light of the moon better illuminated his swollen lips, the blotching heat of his face, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, he looked ruined, ruining you. 

You whimpered and kissed at his jaw again, hands pulled at him at a silent request to come back to you. 

“Shh” Dylan cooed and his hand guided your head into the curve of his neck, fingers somehow found themselves even deeper inside you, the steady curls of his fingers deep and persistent in a way that made your legs shake as you let him tuck you into his frame. 

One of your hands slipped to the front of his shirt, greedily tugged at his bow tie and top button until you could release them and found the warm skin with your mouth, nuzzled at it as Dylan fucked you deep and achingly slow on his fingertips. 

“Shh, shh” He cooed again as a loud laugh from above rung out, and he shifted the pair of you closer to the wall and oh god. Your legs trembled as you had to fight to stay on your feet, the hand around Dylan’s neck gripped to try hold you up, a soft cry passed you lips, a half sounding sob as you nodded desperately into the heat of his throat. 

“There, there there there” You rambled breathlessly as the hand at Dylan’s chest fell to the hand that was filling you, wrapped a death grip around his wrist. The shift of your bodies had sent Dylan’s fingers just the right amount to the left to be pressed to the pad of pleasure deep inside you, where you ached most to feel full. 

Dylan drew back just enough to press your forehead to yours, panting chests pressed together and he let out a soft sound and kissed at your lips in hungry soft pecks, drags of lips wet and warm. “There baby? Right where you need it huh?” Dylan whispered, and you could barely nod before his fingers began to curl in quick, sure fucks, deep lingering presses of fingertips to that one spot that set your whole body alight. Your chest was caving in with every deep breath while your stomach bloomed with crashing waves of pleasure, so heavy and so good you could feel it even behind your eyelids, pleasure like a light pushing up out of you 

“Dylan, yes. Please I-” Your breath hiccupped and you felt you cunt tighten around him, a hungry pull of your body somehow still demanding more. 

“Shhh baby gotta be quiet or they’ll hear us” Dylan tucked your face back into his neck as his fingers soaked in the heat of you, the wet sucking sound of your tightness around him quiet between your bodies. 

You nodded desperately, willing to comply as so long as he never stopped that perfect curl og his fingers. Your body no longer felt like your own, a hot point wound tight, an ocean during a storm, something that you were hopeless to hold yourself up against. 

Your legs trembled with the effort to keep yourself standing and the thought of anything but the fit of dylan’s fingers inside you whited out with every thick pulse of pleasure the curl of his digits pushed through you. 

The voices must have faded out (something your pleasure drenched mind couldn’t even think to be aware of) signaling that you were alone once more because between breaths Dylan pulled you back from his neck, kissed you hungrily before he began to speak low and desperate between your mouths. 

“Good fucking girl, you can be so good can’t you, when you’re getting what you need hm?” his voice was rasping, breathless and his hand gripped tighter in your hair, a fist that made your scalp burn. 

“So good drenching my fingers, wetting my palm with this perfect little cunt” his words made you whine, your fingers dug into the hold you had on his wrist, whole body trembling with it now. 

“Imagine how pretty it will be when its my cock huh? How gorgeous you’ll be taking it,  all wet and hot around me, fuck baby, I know how bad you need that, I need it too, beautiful I need to feel you too- fuck” Dylan rambled, voice low and hugry and you nodded, nodded and fought to try keep your eyes open and watching him as he reduced you to the pleasure hot and throbbing from between your legs. 

“Getting close aren’t you? I can feel it, not gonna stop till I feel you come for me, Want it, want you to come on my fingers, give me that baby can’t you? Show me how good it feels” Dylan encouraged and you nodded feverishly, tilted your head in a blind mission for his mouth, which he was quick to meet you in. 

“Close- close but I” Your breath hitched and tears threatened the edges of your eyes, the pleasure wa so hot and consuming and your orgasm was right there, you could feel it just under each breath but something kept you dangling just above it. 

“Tell me what you need, tell me how I give you this sweetheart, fuck you’re so- wet.” His voice broke over the last word, rasping between messy kisses. 

“Come on baby tell me” He whispered, slowed his fingers to long, deep winding rubs, forced your eyes open with the ebbing of your pleasure. 

“Tell me” he grunted out again, voice a command, not a question. 

“More- I need, I don’t know, I” your breath caught as your mind tried to find what your body wanted, what it needed in the sea of pleasure consuming you to finally pull you under, rolll and toss your body with its peak. 

“Closer- harder, just, more, I don’t know” You asked, and he nodded, pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and hummed. 

“Please” you asked, a small roll of your hips down, chasing. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl telling me, I’ve got you” Dylan breathed and began the curl of his fingers again, but now slow and steady, a slight rock to his fingers as he thrust them just so with each curl. 

“Touch your clit for me baby, do yourself how you like it best, be good and touch, want you to show me” Your fingers found your wetness as Dylan spoke, eager to comply, eager to come. 

Your pointer and middle finger found the most sensitive part of you, slipped in the wetness of your pussy to work small tight coils against the red cherry of your clit. Your eyes fell shut with the pleasure that rushed you, toes curled with it and your breath hitched as you drew in fast shaking breaths. 

“There we go, there we go” Dylan praised, his lips kissed hungrily at your cheeks, jaw, neck, down to your chest. 

“So beautiful, keep going, you’re doing so well, making yourself feel so good and I can feel it, feel you on my fingers, driving me crazy. Fuck” Dylan’s voice was a haze around you, your nipples hardened and you clenched tighter around Dylan. 

Your body ached, trembled ad you tried to stay upright, you felt lost in the pleasure, even with the wall pressed into your back, the way Dylan’s chest was against yours, you wanted- you needed him closer still, you wanted to feel him all over you, you ached to be under him, wanted to feel him hold you down as he made your body fall apart. 

“Dylan” you didn’t know what you were asking, legs shook as you tried to get closer to him, your leg tightened around Dylan’s hip. 

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you, don’t worry, keep going baby” He whispered, his hand moved from the back of your head, slid down and around to the front of your neck, where he could no doubt feel the hummingbird flutter of your pulse on the side of your throat in the cup of his palm. 

His fingers lay gently against the side of your neck, goosebumps prickling down your arms, your heart hammered so hard it felt like a drum beat shattering through you with each pulse. His hand spread until his thumb found the hollow of your throat, a light touch that he dragged up before he curled his thumb across to tuck under the line of your jaw. 

Your eyes fell shut and you tilted your head back, offered more of your neck to Dylan as your mind fogged with want, a soft moan passed your lips, a shiver rocked you in the simple way he was holding you, the way you felt the curve of his hand with each breath you pulled in. 

“Oh baby” Dylan breathed and smiled, like you’d confessed something he’d been waiting to hear. 

“Gotta make me take it from you huh? Can’t just give it to me I gotta earn it from you huh?” He breathed and you were weak to do anything but listen, your fingers working your clit greedily, messy wet slips of your fingers that had you tightening around Dylan. 

“You pinch my wrist if its too much hm? If you wanna stop ok?” Dylan asked and you nodded, willing to take what Dylan wanted to give you, desperate to cum. 

“Hey, look at me” he spoke and you sighed, focused n chasing your orgasm, feeling it close in the way your pussy was gripping Dylan’s fingers, the way the pleasure was shimmering hotter behind your bellybutton, so close just out of your grip. 

His fingers paused suddenly and you wanted to cry, eyes pulled open in a desperate blink and you look at him hazily, brow crumpled in a frown at the loss of pleasure. 

“I know, I know, listen okay and then I promise I wont stop, I’ll keep going, make you soak my fingers and come so hard you only know my name okay?” 

You nodded, desperately and Dylan repeated his earlier instructions. “Pinch my wrist if you want to stop okay?” he asked and you shivered at the promise of it, of what was to come. 

You nodded, understanding now what he was asking, hand on your throat, eyes black with desire as he looked at you. 

“Yes, ok, pinch your wrist, I’m being good I’m listening, now Dylan, please” You begged, felt your voice waver with your desperation. 

“Please I want to come” You whispered, face flushed and lashes heavy as you gazed at Dylan, the hand not working your clit came up to Dylan’s cheek, leant into him and kissed him soft and slow, breathing into his mouth between wet kisses, tongue tasting his. 

“Please” you muttered again and Dylan nodded, kissing you so deeply your head tilted back with the depth of it. You cried out against his lips when his fingers finally went back to fucking you, quick deep thrusts of his three fingers, the wet sound of your body as his skin met yours over and over. 

“Yes, yes its so good, so good” You gasped out, began to tremble as your increased the pace of your own fingers, tight circles over your swollen clit, so wet your dripped from your own fingers. 

Dylan hummed and took your mouth in a hot kiss as his hand gently squeezed around your throat as you drew in your next breath, the fingers on either side of your throat pressed in. 

Your cunt pulsed at the feeling, he wasn’t imiting your breath but making each inhale ache in the best way. 

“Oh my god” Dylan whispered into your mouth and his fingers pressed knuckle deep, once more curved to find that perfect spot inside of you, relentlessly began drilling it, over and over in quick curls of his strong fingers. 

You whined into Dylan’s mouth, your leg that was wrapped around his waist kicked out slightly before tensing beck to his body and the muscles in your calf jumped as your toes curcles. Your pulse thurmmed so loud in your head the sound of anything else was distant, between a thick wall of the pleasue consuming you. 

His hand tightened further on your neck, a deeper press of his fingers and the lightest pressure of the flesh between his pointer finger and thumb against your throat. His fingers inside you were unforgiving as they curled hard into you over and over, slamming of his fingertips into the spor that sent stars of fire up shooting through your body. Your cheesk felt so hot like your dosy could catch on fire. 

“Yes, there, there” You whined

You felt your body squeeze around Dylan’s fingers, a sharp, loud half sobbed crossed your lips, so deep it made your chest stutter with it and his hand squeezed your throat again, a firm hold before his lips pressed to your ear. 

“Please, please Dylan, Please, please” you gasped out, babbling your begging, unabel to help it. “I know, I know, but i’ve got you, I’ve got you, give me it sweetheart, wet my hand and take away your ache, my good girl” he muttered and your fingers pressed down on your clit as his fingers punched in and your breath caught in the cradle of his hand and you slipped back into the rocketing bliss of your orgasm. 

Your thighs pushed in toward themsleves as your dropped your head back, mouth open with a silent scream, pleasure built up and and up and up and pushed tears to your lashses before it let you fall, a rush as the storm shook you apart, your whole body trembled as Dylan’s fingers worked you through the waves of pleasure. 

His voice was sweet and honey warm by your ear as he held you through it “Beautiful girl, my good girl, feel so good, so good for me baby” whispered to you in variations over and over. 

It felt like hours later when the rapture of pleasure slowly began to ebb and you could catch hiccuping breaths without being rockde over another wave of your orgasm. Your hand slipped weakly down to find Dylan’s and pushed gently at his wrist as your thighs pushed in toward each other once more. 

“Too much, too much” you whimpered, felt Dylan’s fingers slow to a stop, let them linger inside you a few moments longer as his mouth found your throat, where his hand had been moments earlier. He kissed softly at the skin, down toward your breasts that he covered in kisses. He slipped his fingers from you as he kissed back up your throat and found your lips.  

He kissed you, just soft sucking lips as his hand rest over your tired pussy, thumb softly stroked the skin. 

Your body trembled in his arms as you reached for him, felt drunk, limbs heavy as your hands found his belt. You kissed him like that for a few moments, sweet and slow until your fingers co operated and you could ease the leather through the lip and pin. 

The soft clink of the belt unfastening made you shiver and you thumbed open the button and zip, the heavy weight of dylan through his boxers pressing thick and hot through the fabric. You could see the wetness where his hard cock had been straining against his boxers as you pulled away to look at him. 

“You don’t-” You shook your head quickly as his protest, leant your head against his shoulder and looked down as you eased him from his boxers. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, the width of his hard cock, the size of him in your palm, the darkness of the thick head. He was perfect. 

You swallowed a whine and sucked your bottom lip into your mouth as you reached for his hand that was still pressed to you, took him by the wrist and curled his own hand around the base of his cock, fingers tangled together as your dragged his fist up over him in a slow stroke. 

The wetness of your pussy that had soaked his hand now slicked his cock and you pushed his hand away now tha he was nice and wet like you wanted and you too him into your hand. 

“Fuck. Oh god you can’t just. Sweetheart-” His voice shook and his hand came to your waist, gripping you the other gently caressing your chest in a feather light touch. 

“I- this won’t take long, baby your pussy has me so hard, the way you took my fingers, so fucking tight when you came, almost pushed them out, can’t imagine you around my cock- going to make a fucking mess on it-” 

Dylan groaned and you nodded, began to kiss and suck at his throat, nuzzles of your nose against warm skin as your hand worked him him in tight long twists, felt each throb of him against your skin. 

You’d have to have him in your mouth too tonight you thought longingly, sucked at your lip as you watch his cock head wet with precum. 

“You’re so big” you whispered, too tired to filter the thoughts in your orgasm drunk mind. Your hand joined the other his cock, thumb gently stroking the thick head of him, over the top once and then at the underside in slow circles as your other hand continued worked his length. 

“I’ll be so tight around it- god I can’t wait to feel you, properly- feel you take it, feel all of this hard and thick inside me, Dyl” You sighed

His hand cupped your breast thumb brushed your nipple and gasped as he came, head tilted back as he fucked his hips up into your fist, hot and wet spilling over your fingers, the head of his cock pulsing and thick as it throbbed in your touch. 

You couldn’t help yourself then really, the sight of his cock messy and all for you- you sunk to your knees and kissed at the head head of his cock, wet open mouthed and tasting his cum. You dragged your parted lips over him, kissed the hot flesh lazily, content with tasting him, feeling him like this. 

“Fuck” Dylans voice punched out and his hand cupped the side of your face, body curled over as he watched with blown wide eyes, gaze reverent as he watched you. You licked him off your fingers between cleaning him off with the wet of your tongue, eyes closed as you enjoyed the taste of him.  

You tilted your head back to look at him, placed the head of his cock on your parted lips and smirked, tongue dragged out to lick a flat wet stripe that sent his full body into a shudder. 

“Fuck, okay, okay” he eased you off his cock and quickly tucked himself back into his pants, pulled you up into his arms, wrapped them around you waist and bundled you to his chest, found your mouth and kissed you, open mouthed and slow. 

His hand pulled beautifully a folded, expensive looking piece of fabric from his front pocket, gently wiped between your open legs, your thighs before he wiped his own fingers, folded the fabric into a neat square and tucked it into an internal hidden pocked in his suit jacket. His hands fastened his pants and redid the belt quickly. 

You shivered as you watched him, felt his hands eased your straps back up over your shoulders, gently touching over your chest to make sure you were covered tucked back, pulled your dress away to tug your panties back into proper place before he let skirt of your dress fall down around your legs once more. 

Your heart squeezed in the silence and before you could stutter out a manifestation of the worry that had started to cloud your mind, Dylan was pulling off his suit jacket and helping you into it. 

“You’re shivering” he whispered, and his hands pressed to the low of your back, pressed your bodies close. 

“Mmm” you agreed, not willing to confess the trembling was more so from him than the night air around you. 

“I can feel you thinking” he whispered and his lips found your cheek, a soft kiss before he let his cheek brush yours. 

“Don’t need to think, baby, not when it feels like this, okay? Let me give you what I promised okay? If you’ll let me” Dylan asked, his hand skimmed slowly up the length of your spine. 

“Let yourself have this, tonight yeah? Let us” Dylan continued. 

You nodded, not that you needed much convincnig, the promise the orgasm that still had your body feeling like it was held up in the air, had the muscles in the low of your stomach aching, far too good to walk away from. You needed and Dylan wanted and god the thought of the loss of his touch right now made you ache. 

It was one night, would just be one night, only for the two of you to know. Thats all it ever needed to be. 

You smiled and tugged Dylan’s jacket around you. 

“Take me home O’brien, while you’re lucky enough to have the chance to” you retorted, and turned out of Dylan’s arms, began to walk away, as dignified as one could with wet panties and trembling legs, trace amounts of risidual cum still on your fingers. 

His hand caught yours before you could go far, stopped you in your tracks and his other hand found the curve of your ass, voice a whisper by your ear. “Mm back to normal then sweetheart I see, going to have to fuck you into my mattress till you’re nice again huh? Make that pussy come over and over till I get to hear those sweet pleases and moans, till I get you doing everything I ask and you’re begging just for me-” You reached back and slapped hand over his mouth, the blush on your cheeks a furious rose tint. 

You felt his laugh and you rolled your eyes, bit sharp into your own lips and swallowed your biting remark. You pulled your hand away from his lips and kept walking, let Dylan ease his hand into your own, let the other hand slip up under the back of his tuxedo jacket that you wore, let him trace the low of your back with his thumb. 

“Not going to make it easy” you retorted, after a moment, actually unable to help yourself and you very much ignored the way you’d fallen apart so easily for him just moments earlier. 

“Oh I know, good girl” he said, voice smug. 

You nudged him with the sharp of your elbow into his side, fought to ignore the red of your cheeks and the throb between your legs.

#dylan o'brien #Dylan o'brein imagine #dylan o'brien fanfiction #Dylan o'brien fic #dylan o'brien prompts #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien x you #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien x you #my writing #my work

[pixelchills]

Sometimes it just humours me that my self insert was originally going to be a part of a very different AU than the Dolldrops.

Based more closely to the Security Breach canon, the story took place before the events of the game.

Chill was supposed to be working evening and weekend shifts in the Supestar Daycare Gift Shop. She (in this AU they used she/they pronouns) was very interested in the Daycare robot, sort of falling in love with him, partly just because I tend to fall in love easily, and partly because I have always been so fascinated and curious about robots in general.

Sun would caught on them staring. Chill would peek into the Daycare after their shift was over, seeing Sun clean up the place. He would notice, they would have a little chat. Sun would be surprised to have a worker that didn't see him just as a piece of metal without feelings, but more of a complex set of codes and a robotic equivalent of a soul.

Chill starts hanging out with Sun after her shifts. Boom they're crushing on each other. Moon has yet to be introduced.

Happened with an accident. A hurricane hit the area and switched the lights off. Moon doesn't trust Chill. He tries to scare them away. Chill, a big fan of horror, doesn't get spooked but is more interested in Moon than he is in them.

Moon has the virus, he is out of commission during the day. The virus cannot be removed, because it only activates with children around, and therefore doesn't show in his code for the adults in the P&S.

Moon warms up to Chill eventually. They bully each other constantly (affectionatly) like I just do with people I trust.

Both sides of the Daycare Attendant fall in love with her. They share months of quality time together.

Chill manages to get one of her friends to hack the programming, and they're able to remove the virus from Moon's A.I. When they get back at the Daycare after that, the Glamrocks attack them, leaving Chill and the DA run and hide.

Eventually they fall down from a vent to the freezer room, but the door is locked from outside. Chill gets hypotermia, and despite Sun trying to keep them warm with his body heat, it's getting too late.

Vanny arrives at the freezer, forcing Sun to install the virus back to Moon's program or she's gonna kill Chill.

Sun obeys and Vanny tries to make Moon attack Chill. He does but snaps out of it, Sun and Moon turning into Eclipse and being in charge of their body at the same time.

They take Chill back to their room, where the Daycare workers find them dead in Sun's arms in the morning.

They didn't get a happy ending. The Daycare Attendant lost their human to love, and Moon was under the virus, again. The workers thought Moon had killed Chill, and they placed the generators into the Daycare, making sure the lights will always stay on.

Sun trashes their room. Nothing is important anymore. Moon destroys staffbots during his patrols and hides them in their room. He is angry and Sun is depressed.

One night, during Moon's patrols, he sees Bonnie in Monty Golf. Moon hates rabbits, because of what Vanny did. He attacks Bonnie. And plays straight into Vanny's pouch.

------

I had literally everything planned, and then I had a dream about the dolldrops :D now Chill the self-insert character has Sun and Moon in their life not as romantic love interest, but as little bestie roommates that are like two little puppies or kittens causing mayhem... but they love them so!

Dolldrops are confused about their own feelings, though. They're jealous of Chill's romantic partners, but still differiate their own romantic love together from the feelings they have for Chill.

What are they, then?

A very weird mix of a childish college student taking care of two small childish caretakers. Friends who just love and adore each other. Two silly clown dolls and their unofficial owner. A young adult with ADHD and their adopted pair of way too advanced little robots.

Dolldrops are Chill's emotional support tinies.

#diary entry #just felt like typing lol #dolldrops #sun #moon #the daycare attendant #chill #fnaf sb #security breach

[ru1-png]

sleepover headcanons for all the divisions ,, a/n : it's been.. a while!!! im sorry for taking such constant long breaks finding motivation to write has been getting quite hard as of recently. i tend to write more for fun than anything but i don't wanna be leaving my page dormant. here's the sillies as compensation for my absence ! word count : 1,437

01. BUSTER BROS

The brothers probably have a couple nights like this on weekends where they don't got much to do. Someone (that someone either being Ichiro or Jiro) would suggest they have a little sleepover where they whip out some sleeping bags and all chill out in the living room.

They'd pull out a couple of video games, Jiro and Saburo would begin arguing in the game, Ichiro ends up winning. They play a game on a console, Jiro and Saburo would begin arguing, Ichiro ends up winning. But when the pillow fight of the century happens, all hell breaks loose. Suddenly the living room is a war zone and the siblings are all out for blood

In the attempt at seeming as cool as can be for Ichiro, Jiro and Saburo probs don't realize that their older brother is landing all the big hits on them until they finally realize and team up on him. Ichiro is quite proud that they could work together even for such a thing like that

Winner of whatever board game they play chooses what they all order to eat

Ichiro can't help but excitedly show the others some cool clips from some new anime he's watched or a Miku mv (autistic ichiro cause i said so), at some point they'd all get together and probably laugh at shitty low quality shows

Jiro SWEARS that he will stay up the longest just to fall asleep the fastest, much to Ichiro and Saburo's humor

02. MAD TRIGGER CREW

One night the guys must have been out late and realized it would be most convenient to crash at whoever's place was closest, that being Jyuto's

Matching pajamas. Don't know who got them (maybe Rio tbh that would be adorable), don't know why. But matching pjs for everyone, Samatoki pretends to hate them but he can't help but like how soft and comfortable they are.

They'd end up chilling on some balcony in Jyuto's place as they have a smoke and just talk about whatever comes to mind.

They made sure that before getting there Samatoki suggested they ordered food so that they could hopefully avoid the inevitable cooking situation with Rio there seeing as he wouldn't wanna waste money on food. Thankfully Jyuto's fridge was just filled with cheese, so ordering food it is.

"How the fuck do you even make yourself meals???" Samatoki would ask with the most confused look ever.

"I tend to find some way to make it happen." Jyuto's response did nothing more than make things more confusing.

Best of all, they play Splatoon on Jyuto's Splatoon themed switch (i will not be convinced otherwise that at the MINIMUM 40% of the hypmic cast plays Splatoon

Honestly just a chill night overall, great bonding time for everyone other than the screaming in Splatoon

03. FLING POSSE

Literally like every little girls dream sleepover

Ramuda gets bored one day and gets the others to spend the night, to no protest of course cause how fun would an idea like that be

Ramuda whips out PILES of candy and snacks for everyone to dig in on throughout the night, more snacks than actual food is all I can imagine they'd eat

EVERYONE is given makeovers by Ramuda, it's almost like a whole fashion show, whether it's hairstyling, outfits, any of that. Ramuda is on it!!

Gentaro ends up telling scary stories at 1:30 in the morning which sends Ramuda and Dice into a frenzy and they almost ran outside in the cold and in their pajamas

Speaking of pajamas, Ramuda made custom made sanrio ones for everyone in preparation for an event like this, they're beyond fluffy and in tons of pretty colors just to the other members likings

Ramuda get's the most basic white girl idea and has Gentaro and Dice film tiktoks with him doing the most generic dances ever, cringe from the view of normal eyes, but funny as hell when seeing them film it

In response to the ghost stories Dice is first to fall asleep, he ended up hoping if he fell asleep the ghost wouldn't be able to get him since "If I can't see them, then they can't see me either!"

Ramuda and Gentaro made an art piece on the poor gamblers face

04. MATENROU

Doppo is quick to remind Hifumi to stash away all of their loose bottles of alcohol before Jakurai comes over to spend the night, both wouldn't want a near death experience during a harmless sleepover

Once Jakurai arrives, Hifumi is ecstatic to get to test out making some new meal plans for everyone to eat. It's almost like his ultimate test as the trained malewife he is, and he loves the chance to make a nice meal for everyone

It's normally quite hard to find a weekend where everyone isn't working to make plans like this, even during the week. So, during these kinds of nights the trio gets to take this time to just catch up with each other and talk about things

As quite the ongoing trend here, every division has one person that is the equivalent of that one mom at the mothers slumber party that happens once every century, Hifumi got them all matching pajamas

Jakurai always can find himself interested in the playful banter amongst Hifumi and Doppo, so there never really tends to be that dull of a moment amongst them all even if they're just talking

Hifumi ends up taking LOTS of selfies of everyone

Much to the others shock, Jakurai is actually quite the night owl and he is able to stay up impressively late with the others

Matenrou seems like that group of adults at parties that could be up until 4 in the morning just laughing obnoxiously loud at each others jokes until they suddenly realize time is a thing and they all finally decide to knock out for the night

05. DOTSUITARE HOMPO

Now, there is little variation of context as to how dh would get together for a sleepover. It's either they had spent the night at the bar and in Rosho's drunken state Sasara and Rei carry him back home and just decide to crash at his place, in that case not much happens for the night other than the vandalism of Rosho in his drunken sleep state. OR, on the other hand they all decide to just hang out at Rosho's place and stay the night which THEN leads to a night of drunken fun and banter.

The amount of teasing that would happen throughout the night, the perfect chill, laid back chaotic fun

Sometimes Sasara is able to convince Rosho to have little sketches with him in the house and put on little shows for Rei, it's quite interesting but it's hard to get Rosho to agree. Rei seems to really like them though

Don't know why, but it seems like they'd do funny dubbing over random low budget movies they can find

06. BADASS TEMPLE

Kuko and Jyushi already have their fair share of sleepovers in their own time, but at times if Hitoya isn't busy and he's forced coerced into coming, things tend to take quite the drastic turn

Jyushi has the matching onesies ready on deck for when any of his teammates tend to sleepover seeing as they always agree it'll happen at his house, Kuko likes them, Hitoya finds it quite hard to admit how much he likes them aswell

Jyushi's bed is COVERED in plushies

They'd jam out to Jyushi's cds and have screaming karaoke nights, once Hitoya joins in it's OVER. They all end up going off eventually having the most sore throats afterwards but damn is it fun as hell

It's all fun and games until Kuko and Jyushi suddenly turn to Hitoya revealing part of their motive for inviting him....

Hitoya orders them food

They all end up playing a bunch of switch games, some of which being.. Splatoon, the bane of everyones existence and cause for a new found rage in a casual round of rainmaker. Mario Party, a physical fight almost started. Mario Kart, Jyushi mains Lime Green Inkling girl, Kuko mains King Boo, and Hitoya mains Wario.

They all watch My Little Pony and enjoy it, don't ask me why I don't make the rules

Jyushi tries to convince Hitoya joining in as he whips out the nail polish and goes ham, usually Hitoya refuses but VERY rarely he'll agree and just take it off later

Jyushi makes little doodles of everyone in their onesies, Kuko joins in and draws all of them in their onesies on a monster truck. The truck is in a strange amount of detail

Very hectic but honestly fun night, I'd kill someone to have a sleepover with them

@ru1-png : please do not repost or claim my accounts as your own

#me after adding a comedical amount of tags (i love engagement) #hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic headcanons #sleepover fic #buster bros #ichiro yamada #jiro yamada #saburo yamada #mad trigger crew #samatoki aohitsugi #jyuto iruma #rio mason busujima #rio busujima #hypmic #fling posse #ramuda amemura #gentaro yumeno #dice arisugawa #matenrou #jakurai jinguji #hifumi izanami #doppo kannonzaka #dotsuitare hompo #sasara nurude #rosho tsutsujimori #rei amayado #badass temple #kuko harai #jyushi aimono #hitoya amaguni

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

To the editor,

After Abigail and Riley contact Ian, Ian calls Ben in FBI custody and tells him 'and the FBI agents listening in on this call' that they should meet him on the flight deck of the USS Intrepid at 10am tomorrow.

Therefore, between ~4:15pm on Saturday, June 19th and 10am on Sunday, June 20th, there is a whole missing twelve hours (!) where Abigail and Riley have to make their way to New York after negotiating with Ian.

My personal headcanon is that Ben had all of the cash from Common Sense on him when he got nabbed by the FBI because it's Ben . Riley maybe has $20 cash on him and the only thing Abigail has are her earrings from her gala outfit. Either they scrape together enough cash for a bus ticket (?) or they have to travel with Ian and co. (Ian seems unlikely to let them out of his sight and Abigail obviously doesn't want to leave the Declaration, but from the dialogue of the car phone call scene it seems like Ian 'doesn't know' where Abigail and Riley are hiding nearby).

They also have to have slept at some point.

TL;DR there's a whole ~twelve hours of Abigail & Riley bonding time that is missing from the movie and the possibilities are endless! Thoughts?

Hi Anon,

Thanks so much for your question!

First of all, I am a walnut and the timeline article has been updated to reflect that yes, Ian tells us what time the adventure resumes on day 3: 10am on the deck on the Intrepid.

Which is actually great! Placing the Washington, D. C., Philadelphia, and New York legs of the adventure on different days makes for a neat separation of events by both place and time. It also makes the travel logistics more plausible, and takes the total time elapsed from around 24 hours to more like 48.

While that does leave the gang a little more time to rest, that assumes they can rest. If they can’t or won’t sleep due to danger, anxiety, travel, or all of the above, that weekend must feel like it lasts an eternity.

Like I said before, they must be e x h a u s t e d by the time this thing concludes.

But as you point out, the timeline the movie presents us with significant instances of missing time.

That’s missing as in unaccounted for, not missing as in wrong, btw. One of the many things I love about National Treasure is its pacing. Each sequence gets to take center stage when its time, but the movie certainly doesn’t drag. If nothing plot-significant is happening, we don’t need to see it.

In the film that is.

In the land of fandom, well…*evil laughter*

So.

National Treasure presents us with three significant instances of missing time:

The drive from D.C. to Philadelphia

The wait between their arrival in Philly at sunrise and clothes shopping/cypher decoding in the afternoon.

The trip from Philadelphia to New York.

Let’s take each in turn.

And boy oh boy, this one got out of hand. More under the cut if you’re interested.

D.C. to Philadelphia

First there’s the middle-of-the-night drive from D.C. to Philadelphia. We do see one scene from this time where Riley is dozing in the back seat as Ben tells Abigail about Common Sense. I really love this scene because it’s more intimate and quiet than anything that’s come before it. I am an absolute slut for quiet moments inside loud stories.

Up until now the movie has been all high stakes and big decisions. Now, because they’re forced to travel, the characters have to slow down. The only thing that has come close so far is the stop at the park in front of the Jefferson memorial, and even that included two huge decisions: Ben decided to face his father and Abigail decided she was going wherever the Declaration was.

The only decision made in the car is that they need to go shopping.

Even in this brief moment, all of their personalities are on full display. Riley is being skeptical and hilarious even as he’s half-asleep in the back seat using the Declaration as a pillow. Ben is full-steam-ahead on his mission, both literally and figuratively in the driver’s seat as he plans their next move and reveals he was already think about it by swiping the book from his dad’s. Abigail is reserved but curious. She still seems to be sizing the guys up as they banter back and forth, and is ready to match Ben’s historical references. Unlike Riley, she appears just as wide awake as Ben, and continues in the role she’s taken on since the test for the Ottendorf cypher, as the second-in-command. Hence she is in the passenger seat, versus in the van when she was in the back. Damn I love media analysis.

The whole scene lasts less than 30 seconds, and as we discovered in our timeline, the drive from Washington D.C. to Philadelphia takes about 3 hours. So what else did they talk about?

I’m particularly interested in Abigail’s perspective here, because this is the first chance she’s gotten to actually talk to Ben since she got roped into the heist. She started asking questions the moment she got pulled into the van, but Ben wasn’t answering. Then she learned more about him and the Gates’ family history with the treasure while observing his interactions with Patrick, but this is the first chance she has to really talk with him.

Ben must still be pretty wired from the heist and the discovery of the cypher, but it’s as late as 4 am by the time they’re on the road. His eyes could be getting heavy and talking to Abigail might help him stay alert, even if they’re talking about nothing. We know she doesn’t ask about Patrick’s weird question until they’re in the dressing rooms, but there’s plenty else they could have covered.

As I talk about here, Ben was curious about Abigail from the moment they met, and that was when she was refusing to help them. Now she’s not only demanded to come along on his crazy quest, but she’s become actively involved. From the moment she puts lemon juice on the Declaration of Independence, Abigail a personal stake in the hunt—now her job, career, and reputation are on the line. Ben has to have questions about that.

As for Riley, he’s hungry. He tells us as much. The canon scene seems to be near the beginning of the trip, given that Riley is making basic observations about the car (it’s a “sweet ride,” “This car smells weird.”) so he probably starts lobbying to stop for food at some point.

As the night wears on and the adrenaline wears off, Ben and Abigail realize that they haven’t eaten all night either. Abigail may or may not have had a chance to eat before the gala. When the alarm in the Declaration’s case goes off, she actually has her coat on to head home. Depending on how long it took to respond to the alarm, she may not have left the Archives at all. And I doubt Ben could eat anything before the heist.

My personal headcanon is that they stop at a 24 hour Burger King (et al). They make Riley order so they don’t look too suspicious in their gala clothes (mostly in case the FBI starts canvasing the fast food joints off every exit from D.C. to Philly. I suspect the night crew themselves would not give a shit). Everybody uses the bathroom.

It’s at this moment I’d like to give a shoutout to Abigail’s eye makeup. In the aforementioned scene in the car she’s still got perfect smokey eye, but that's a whole lot of dark eye makeup and that only ends one way: full Winter Soldier.

It's also fairly hard to get off. It only comes off with certain products like makeup remover or baby oil, and that much dark makeup would take like...full minutes of scrubbing to remove.

I imagine that in the fast food bathroom she notices that it’s starting to smudge. There's not much she can do about it at the moment, but whether because it's messy, uncomfortable, conspicuous, or all of the above, all that makeup is gone the next time we see her in the dressing room.

Which brings us to part 2.

Philadelphia

In some ways this is a continuation of the previous stretch of time. The only shot we see in between is the car driving into Philadelphia at sunrise. I’m separating them though because, well, they feel different to me.

Road trips are a special kind of liminal space. You don’t have to talk but you can’t leave, and at least one person has to be awake.

Once Team Treasure gets to Philadelphia, they can stretch their legs, run errands, get a break from each other. It’s different, so we’re counting it differently.

They arrive at sunrise but we don’t see them again until Abigail and Ben are at Urban Outfitters and Riley is outside the Franklin Institute sometime around 2 pm. (Per the cashier’s “almost three.”)

The Franklin Institute opens at 9:30am, and with the FBI hot on their trail (and Ian, though they don’t know that yet) they don’t have a moment to loose.

So what were they doing??

The screenwriting answer is: waiting until it was closer to the actual time on the $100 bill to generate more tension racing for the clue.

But here at the National Treasure Gazette we’re in the business of taking the story as-is. So in the universe of the film, what were they doing?

My best guess is sleeping, or at least trying to. I imagine something would have to happen in order to make Ben pause, even for a little while, so picture this: They’re winding their way through downtown Philadelphia. Riley is groggily complaining that he wants to sleep more. At this point Abigail in inclined to agree. Ben won’t hear it until he makes a bad driving decision. Not anything major, but he takes a turn too soon or too late, he drifts into another lane, or he doesn’t see another car until he’s forced to swerve out of the way. Okay. Point taken.

If they don’t get their wits about them, they’ll be caught before they find anything.

They park in an out of the way spot. Riley agrees to take first watch because he already slept a bit. Ben tries to argue and it takes both Riley and Abigail to convince him to relax. Only once Ben has finally resigned himself to resting does Abigail attempt to close her eyes too.

Nobody sleeps well, if they sleep at all. They jump at every siren and set of footsteps that gets too close to the car. All three of their pulses are racing, and although Ben’s body needs to rest, his mind will not stop chasing after the treasure.

At some point they send Riley into a drug store to grab a few necessities—granola bars, bottled water, maybe some bandaids. A bottle of ibuprofen because Abigail’s shoulder is starting to bother her and at least one of the three of them has a pounding headache at any given time from here to the finale. Riley takes pity on Abigail’s increasingly smudged makeup and grabs a travel pack of makeup wipes as well. Abigail hasn’t paid too much attention to Riley up until this point, but she’ll always remember that gesture.

Literally all of this is conjecture except:

The car is parked on a nearby street

Abigail doesn’t have her party makeup on by the time they’re shopping

But I had fun.

And finally, there’s the matter of Saturday night.

Philadelphia to New York

As you point out Anon, there is a massive chunk of missing time in between Saturday afternoon, when Ben is being questioned by the FBI and Abigail asks Riley to call Ian, and Sunday morning on the deck of the Intrepid.

Ben’s situation is fairly predictable. He’s in custody with the FBI, and at some point they move him from Philadelphia to New York. I’m inclined to think they move him that night, shortly after the phone call with Ian. The longer they wait, the more time there is for something to go wrong. I’m no kind of expert on FBI protocol, but I suspect they’d want to get all the pieces of their plan in motion as soon as possible, and that includes moving Ben.

That leaves us the questions of who and how?

Sadusky would not be doing this himself. He’s in a different car in the FBI caravan, or maybe even on a helicopter to ensure he gets maximum prep time. He’d pass babysitting duty off to one of his subordinate agents, probably Agent Hendrix as punishment for not taking the tip seriously (We’re gonna put a pin in Edge of History for now, yeah?).

That means one of the other agents gets stuck with him. Probably Agent Johnson, because per their setup in the surveillance van during the Intrepid sequence, he seems like someone Sadusky relies on. Sadusky would want someone trustworthy there to make sure Hendrix didn’t mess up again.

Ben talks their ear off about history for the entire drive. Not anything related to the treasure hunt, just random stuff he thinks is cool. It’s two hours of Ben Gates’ finest “Did you know?”s and “Umm, actually”s. Hendrix and Johnson are annoyed at first, but eventually they start naming random years and letting Ben spout off things that happened. It passes the time, but man are they relieved to reach Manhattan.

But what about Abigail and Riley?

As you point out, the two of them have to travel from Philadelphia to New York with basically no resources. There are only a few ways they could get there.

The Bus Route

You make an excellent argument that if there’s any cash left after the shopping trip, Ben probably has it. He’s the one paying the cashier—“Can I see one of those $100 bills I paid you with?”— so he would likely have whatever is leftover in his wallet. Plus, he’s the architect of this whole caper. He’s the one making the plans, calling the shots, and probably also keeping the cash.

And that’s if there is any money left. It’s hard to make out exactly how much Abigail dumps out of the book. One $100 and one $20 are clearly visible, along with three other bills. Let’s say that they have $340. Oh, plus the $32.57 that Ben already had in his wallet. They pay at least $200 for their clothes—“ one of those $100 bills” plural—and they don’t have any $100s left, or Ben wouldn’t need to trade his watch to get one back. Maybe they spent all $300 on the clothes (it is Urban Outfitters, like, way to use your resources wisely guys. Maybe try Marshall's?), or maybe they broke the remaining hundred earlier for food or supplies.

In any case, there’s probably not much. It’s possible that Riley has a few bucks in his wallet or pockets since he hasn’t changed since the heist. If he’s been making purchases for the group (since until the shopping trip he’s the only one dressed normally) he could have some of the change in his pockets.

Abigail followed Ben out of the Archives without a purse, so unless she had anything in her dress or jacket, or kept some change during the day, she doesn’t have any additional resources to work with. She does have her earrings, but since she’s not wearing them at the clothing store, my guess is they’re in the car, and therefore with the FBI. If she does have them on her—like maybe she took them off in the changing room and slipped them into the pocket of her new jeans or jacket—then there’s a chance she could barter them for cash or bus tickets.

I suppose they could have divided any remaining cash between them in case one of them got caught or separated, but based how surprised Riley seems by the idea of splitting up at Independence Hall it doesn’t seem to my like they considered such a plan until that moment.

I’ll also offer the possibility that Riley could try to hack into a ticket kiosk at the bus station if they couldn’t pay. I think this is less likely thought, because doesn’t have his laptop with him, only a c. 2004 cell phone. While I’m sure he could do this with the right equipment, I don’t know that he’d have access to said equipment at the moment. Perhaps he could do it from an internet cafe like he does with Shaw’s phone in New York, but many of his hacks seem to rely on preparation—like breaking into the camera feeds at the National Archives, or sneaking a receiver into the Buckingham Palace computer network in the deleted scene from Book of Secrets. So the plausibility of this route is up to you.

If you like any of these configurations, then Riley and Abigail could have bought bus tickets to New York. And actually, the Philadelphia bus station is just a block from Reading Terminal Market, where Riley and Abigail hide from Shaw and discover the true National Treasure, Meat Lady. It would depend where in NYC the bus was stopping, but the Port Authority bus terminal is in midtown near the Intrepid, not in the financial district where Trinity Church is. My point being, on the New York end of the journey they might face an additional expense of taking the subway or a cab.

As far as sleeping goes, they might try to get a late night bus to avoid the issue, killing time on either end as needed. If they had the money to spare, maybe they nursed the cheapest beer in a nearby bar until it closed, then headed to the station. Maybe they sat in the bus station well into the night, but if the FBI or local police are still searching for them, they probably want to be at the bus station for as little time as possible. Not to mention that such places often discourage loitering, but as two decently dressed white people, they might have less trouble in that department.

The Sadusky Route

I’ll also off the possibility that Ben includes transportation for them in his deal with Sadusky somehow. Something along the lines of “My friends will turn themselves in in NYC once we recover the Declaration.”

If Sadusky were to agree—though I don’t know how likely that is—Riley might receive a mysterious phone call telling him two bus tickets will be waiting for them. In this case their safety is assured but they’re likely to be followed.

In any of the routes that take them on a bus, Abigail and Riley would spend a lot of time together.

Remember, it’s Ben that Abigail’s really connected with so far. He’s the one she’s been flirting with, he rescued her from the catering truck, she learned about his family and his relationship with his father, and he’s the one she risked her career with testing the Declaration. She was talking to Ben only during both the late night car ride and while clothes shopping. To her, Riley has been the weird sarcastic guy tagging along.

That’s not to say she hasn’t had any interactions with him. Her “I look pregnant?” comment is directed to Riley, so she’s clearly not afraid to engage with him. But she has gotten to know Riley way less than she’s gotten to know Ben.

She’d probably be curious about how Riley got involved in the treasure hunt, and for preparation purposes I’d imagine she’d have lots of questions about Ian—who his henchmen are, their dynamics, the kinds of weapons they carry, etc.

But after that the conversation might run a bit dry. Riley doesn’t know much about history; Abigail doesn’t seem like much of a conspiracy theorist. Though, idk, she jokingly brought up bigfoot during their first meeting so Riley might see how far he can run with that.

As a fic writer, you have some choices to make. You want to give Riley and Abigail enough to talk about and things to bond over, but you probably want to to leave the juiciest information for Ben. It’s Ben who’s going to want to know how she fell in love with history, who her favorite president is, the time periods she’s most interested in, her worst professor, etc. At least I imagine her conversations with Riley are more about the situation at hand or random topics of interest.

"You ever see the movie Stargate?"

"I'm not too big on movies.

How about the TV show?

(Abigail gives an apologetic smile)

Right. Not big on TV either. What do you do for fun, go to the opera? You know what, don't answer that. Let me tell you a little bit about ancient aliens."

Based on the two scenes we see from the beginning and end of this journey—in the park and then in the cafe—Abigail is standing and pacing, and Riley is sitting, first in a dejected stupor, and then on the computer. I imagine this physicality would continue in a bar or bus station. Abigail has a lot of nervous energy to work out by pacing or fidgeting and Riley’s more prone to staring off into space.

Unless Riley got going on a conspiracy theory topic that he's really passionate about. Then I imagine he's all hand gestures.

The Ian Route

And then of course there is the path most full of danger and dramatic possibilities—a deal with Ian.

Let’s start with how Ian and the boys are traveling. They appear at Trinity Church with two vehicles. Ben and Shaw arrive in a black Lincoln town car with New York plates, Shippen is holding Patrick across the street in a black Range Rover with a Washington D.C. license plate, and Ian is already waiting on foot.

The plates suggest to me that they’ve had the Range Rover for the whole journey, but given that Ian has “nearly unlimited resources” they’ve probably been swapping out cars frequently to avoid detection.

But we know that they travel in multiple vehicles. If Shippen was sent back to the D.C. area to get Patrick, that means Ian, Shaw, Powell and Phil would still be traveling to New York, likely in at least two vehicles. They’re big guys with lots of equipment and no financial restrictions; they have no need to pack into one car.

Which means there’s plenty of room for guests/shot-callers/hostages to travel with them!

Shaw complains to Ben that Abigail is "the one calling all the shots now." He may know or suspect that Ian has other plans in the works to get the power back, but until Patrick arrives as a hostage it seems like Abigail is genuinely in control of the situation.

As such she could barter passage for herself and Riley as part of the deal: “If you get us to New York and get Ben away from the FBI, we can show you to the treasure.”

As you point out, this option has one massive benefit: Abigail gets to keep an eye on the Declaration in person. In any of these configurations I’m sure she stressed to Ian that he needs the glasses Ben has to get any further. There is no other way to read the map and no chemical procedure that can replicate the glasses. If the Declaration is damaged in any way, the deal is off. But in this case she gets to ensure first hand that they’re not going to try anything.

If Abigail is demanding to ride with the Declaration, that also means she’s riding with Ian. I doubt he would let it out if his sight either, lest Abigail and Riley try to escape with it. And Riley is riding with Abigail, because splitting up would be the most dangerous thing the two of them could do at this point.

Ian wouldn’t want to be outnumbered, so he’d have his boyfriend number two man Shaw riding shotgun.

Now that is a recipe for one awkward car ride.

Unlike a version where they take the bus, Abigail and Riley probably aren’t talking much here. They can’t. They need to give away as little about themselves as possible.

Likewise, Ian and Shaw can’t talk freely either. Shaw might get the occasional phone call which he answers with a few cryptic words. “Yes. No. Then deal with it.”

Of course Riley knows Ian and Shaw, but as I discuss here, I don’t think he was with the crew for very long before the Charlotte betrayal. The last time he tried to make casual conversation with these guys he got a gun pointed at time. The doesn’t deter him too much, as he does the same thing later in the underground chamber, but any attempts to start a conversation here are probably met with glares, signs, and maybe an “I see what you’re trying to do but please stop” smile from Abigail.

I think Ian might be more disposed to talk to Abigail, both because she’s calling the shots at the moment and because we do see that he has a polite streak, at least when in comes to people who aren’t his enemies. He’s quite cordial and supportive with Ben when they uncover the Charlotte, and he’s polite to the little boy at the Franklin Institute. He might see it as being in his best interest to not alienate Abigail when she’s the one arranging this deal. If she stays happy the he gets his treasure.

So there you go, one awkward car ride with a side of contempt.

As for how they slip away from Ian, I imagine that’s part of the deal. Until Ben escapes custody, Abigail could call the FBI and reveal Ian’s plan at any time. So if she said that she and Riley would be watching from a distance, they might have no choice but to go with it.

Conclusion

My conclusion is that I’ve been thinking about Team Treasure’s late night burger run for a while now, but I hadn’t really considered how they all get to New York, and all the possibilities that chunk of missing time in particular has for interesting character interactions.

Any of these scenarios have the potential to significantly deepen Riley and Abigail’s relationship. Over the course of the night, they might very well have gone from barely acquaintances to actual friends.

Which ones do y'all like? What scenarios did I miss? Leave a comment!

Thanks so much for your question! Feel free to send another any time.

#the national treasure gazette #ben gates #abigail chase #riley poole #ian howe #shaw (nt) #missing time #articles

[unmitigatedsuperiority]

Summary: As a storm draws near to the Virginia coast, you and Spencer share an intimate moment. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Word count: 3.3k Category: Fluff Rating: T Warnings: None

read it on ao3 | series masterlist

[previous chapter]

MAY

“Tell me more about your home life,” you spoke out of the blue as Spencer lounged to your left. He lifted his head up off his crossed arms, stared up at you from the face-down position he had taken up.

“What do you want to know? We’ve discussed our cultural differences quite a bit already…”

“I want to hear about your family.” Spencer thinned his lips. You looked down. “I mean, you’ve mentioned your mom a few times, but…I’m sorry. Is this too personal? I just feel like I know so much about you, but I don’t even know anything about your family—"

“Diana.” Spencer’s stare bored into yours, soft and unyielding. “My mom’s name was Diana.”

You brought your cheek to rest against your hand. “What was she like?” Spencer smiled, bittersweet.

“She was a great mom when she could be. She had her issues. Nothing much we could do. But when she was there, when she was fully lucid, she was so wise. I could always go to her for advice. Somehow, she always knew just the right thing to say.”

“You miss her,” you noted. A statement, not a question. Spencer nodded.

“She would’ve liked you,” he said, biting his lip. You took a breath.

“Really?”

“Really,” he reaffirmed. The early morning sun felt especially hot all of a sudden. “Plus, even with all her reminders to not go above the surface, she would’ve loved answering all your questions. Her lectures about aquatic history are sort of legendary.”

“She sounds amazing,” you said.

“Is it weird…” Spencer paused. Sighed. “Is it weird that I wish you would’ve gotten to meet her? In another life perhaps? I know that’s highly impossible. In fact, even just the concept of another life stems from—”

“Spencer?”

“Hmm?” He looked up at you, brown eyes inquisitive. A little shy, but unguarded. He trusted you. Completely. It was a startling realization.

“It’s not weird at all,” you reassured him. He smiled, and you returned the gesture twofold.

LATE AUGUST—SIX DAYS BEFORE

“This just in: Local weather reports of a tropical storm heading straight for the coasts of Virginia Friday evening. Right now, it remains a tropical storm, but it does have the potential to become a hurricane. We are ABC7 News will keep you updated with the latest on this story as it progresses—”

“Damn, I was really hoping to go to the beach next weekend,” Tara grumbled as she flicked the channel off, balancing her bowl of cereal as she found just the right angle for the TV remote to work. You curled your fingers against the edge of the couch cushion, trying to ease your nerves. When you had woken up that morning, you could feel it. A shift in the air. Something to come. It was all you could do not to think about what Spencer would be doing, out at sea, unable to escape the storm. You steeled yourself in the present, focused on Tara’s dilemma instead.

“We literally live on the beach. You could go outside right now, and you’d basically be in the water. For what we pay to live here, you should really be taking advantage of it, anyways.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” Tara sighed, stabbing her cereal with her spoon. “I want to make an event out of it, you know? Embrace the big hat-thriller novel-sitting on the beach life.” You chuckled at her theatrics.

“Yeah. You could still do that,” you pointed out.

“It’s not as fun by myself.” Tara pouted. You placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You could always take me with you!” Tara shrugged off your hand and playfully glared at you. You backed off. “Alright, alright. We don’t need to see that much of each other. I get it.” You leaned back, resting your forearm against the edge of the sofa.

“Okay, but seriously,” she started around a mouthful of cocoa puffs (her guilty pleasure cereal), “we need to get prepped for this storm. Do you want to put all the outdoor furniture in the shed this week or shall I? One of us needs to do it, and the other can go to the store to stock up on food and stuff.”

“I’ll do it,” you grumbled. “You’re so strong and capable; only you could brave the grocery store madhouse that’s about to happen.” You grinned at Tara, clearly buttering her up for what would be the worse option.

She chuckled. “Thanks for phrasing that like it’ll be far more exciting than it actually is. That’s fine, though. I am better at hurricane prep than you, anyway.”

“I’d be upset at that comment but unfortunately it’s true,” you relented. Tara let out a triumphant Ha! She picked up the remote, dangled it in front of you.

“Your turn to pick something to watch. And if there is a single mermaid in it…” She shook her head, dramatically shuddered.

“I get it!” You yanked the remote out of her hand before nudging your shoulder against hers. She repeated the gesture. A nonverbal confirmation that everything was okay. You flicked on Netflix, mindlessly scrolling through the offerings. Not paying nearly as much attention as you should.

“He’s going to be fine, you know,” Tara spoke a few minutes into your unyielding scrolling. You turned to her.

“Spencer?” You questioned. She nodded. It did little to calm the angry, stormy sea raging behind in your chest. The bitter taste of drowning. “How do you know?”

Tara shrugged, circling her spoon around her quickly emptying breakfast. “I just do. Intuition, I guess.” You paused, considering.

“Wow, the woman of science is suddenly taking things on faith?” You replied, half-teasing, half-serious. Tara thinned her lips, a far-off look in her eyes. She took a swig of the chocolate-tinted milk at the bottom of her bowl.

“Maybe I’m a bit more open to things these days,” she replied before pushing herself off the couch and heading toward the kitchen. You settled back into your side of the couch, absorbing her words.

Ever since you and Spencer grew close, you’d had to come to terms with a lot of different things. Like the fact that mermaids existed. Cute mermaids with cow-brown eyes and a laugh like the song of the sea. But that rational part of you, the one Tara had always encouraged, had kept him at arm’s length. No sense diving headfirst into a capital-R Relationship with someone who would always be a fish out of water. A literal fish out of water. Even though you spent just as much time fantasizing about what could be.

Although, you never thought you’d see the day Tara started accepting anecdotal evidence as fact. The most seeing is believing person you have ever met was now supporting you in all your weird mermaid endeavors. She’d come a long way from the woman who tried to nicely—not in a condescending way, she’d argued—convince you that mermaids weren’t real. That maybe you were just seeing things. But now? You knew without a doubt that Spencer wasn’t a trick of the light or a figment of your imagination. He was real. As real as the ocean itself. As real as the morning sunlight felt on your skin every Sunday. And maybe Tara had it right. Maybe it was good to trust your intuition. After all, that is what led you to the rocks at the edge of the beach in the first place. And without that, none of this would be happening at all.

And that would be a damn shame.

“Why did you come all the way out here in the first place?” Spencer had asked you the following morning, curiosity in his gaze. He had laid across the rocks, tail shimmering in the early sunrise glow. Iridescent and mesmerizing. It took you a minute to form words after he emerged from the water. Something in the air felt different today. Maybe it was the storm. Maybe it was the realization of just how invested you are in this relationship—whatever kind of relationship it is.

“What, to Virginia or—”

“Here,” Spencer clarified, tail flopping against the solid rock with a thwap. The sound punctuated his question. You paused, collecting your thoughts.

“I guess…I feel most myself here,” you answered, “if that makes any sense. I just felt drawn to this part of the beach.” Spencer hummed, licking his lips before speaking.

“For whatever we lose—like a you or a me—”

“…It’s always ourselves we find in the sea,” you finished, surprised.

“E.E. Cummings,” Spencer added. Some warm breeze wrapped around the two of you, the sea salt scent thick and familiar. Your heart raced at the cloying sensation.

“Of course, you know E.E. Cummings. What don’t you know?” You teased half-heartedly. A particularly large wave crested and fell in the distance, the sound fading into the background as you watched Spencer. The slight twitch of his lips, softening of his gaze. He sighed, flicked his tail once. You watched droplets cascade out around the fin, glistening in the sunlight. Indescribable.

“There’s lot of things I don’t know, Y/N,” he spoke, pulling you out of your thoughts. His head turned down; his voice softened. “I find myself more troubled by it every week.” You looked at him in his sincerity. Really looked at him. Every perfect blue-green scale and curly piece of hair. Nervous hands and slender build. You could hardly believe that he was here with you sometimes. You cleared your throat.

“Yeah,” you replied, almost a whisper. You glanced down at your bare legs next to Spencer’s shimmering tail. The tang of saltwater crept into your mouth, not unpleasantly. “Me, too.”

Things had progressed so far over the last several months. You could look back on first meeting Spencer with a sense of nostalgia. That foreign shyness between the two of you bleeding into your interactions, lessening over time as each Sunday visit brought you closer. More familiar. Because what you had now was that—familiar. So familiar, you’d know him anywhere. You’d know him like the back of your hand. Like the sounds of the sea.

And yet, there was so much unspoken. So many things you couldn’t—and wouldn’t—know. Like if Spencer could feel the surface breeze whenever he thought of you.

“I’m going to assume you finished the last book I left on the rocks for you?” You asked, changing the subject.

“Of course! Romeo and Juliet. Star-crossed lovers. It was well-written, I’ll give it that.” He reached out to his opposite side, pulled out his water-logged copy.

“That’s going to fall apart,” you giggled.

“It just might,” he agreed. Spencer handed it to you, a wet thumpsounding out as he dropped it into your hands. You carefully pulled the pages apart, turning them gently so as not to disturb the fragile bindings of the book. Unfamiliar scrawled writing surrounded the text.

“You made your own annotations?” You questioned, surprised.

“Well, I loved seeing all your thoughts on paper and getting a closer look at what exactly you were thinking at certain parts. I figured it was only fair you get to experience the same,” Spencer explained. And there it was again. The riptide beneath your ribs.

“Is writing a big part of mermaid culture?” You asked.

“Oh, not at all,” he laughed. “That’s why my handwriting is terrible.” You joined in with him, unable to shake the feeling that something monumental was happening. Like Spencer was opening up to you in a way he never had before. In a way you always secretly hoped he would. It turned out that Romeo and Juliet was certainly the correct choice of book to share with him, if a little on the nose. At least it wasn’t The Little Mermaid.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” you said, in awe of all the notes marching along the pages.

“It’s just some thoughts I had, some comments. Circling the quotes I liked.”

“Like this one?” You pointed to one passage that had been circled a few times. He grinned, shifted closer to you to read over your shoulder. You felt the chill of the sea water dripping just past your shoulders. Goosebumps ran down your spine.

“’My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.’”

Spencer recited the words as if he’d said them a thousand times before. You couldn’t shake the sudden feeling that everything that’s happened over the last several months has led to this exact moment. Your chest constricted, your senses in a state of overwhelm. The riptide had turned into a tsunami, no turning back now. As he made eye contact with you, you felt the goosebumps spread down your arms. The two of you diving headfirst into this new dynamic, no safety net. His eyes searched your face. You held your breath.

“I can see why you circled that one,” you breathed. Spencer’s gaze softened, shifted, before he suddenly cleared his throat and looked away. The tsunami quieted.

“While not technically true, as the sea does in fact have ends—I’ve seen them myself—I do appreciate the sentiment. Love as deep as the sea. It’s something that’s always sought after, a theme in so many of the novels I’ve read. I only hope I could experience a fraction of it.”

You paused, studied him, a softness in your gaze. “You will,” you affirmed. Not a shred of doubt in your voice. Spencer stared at you, quizzically. He glanced down at your lips, and you swallowed a lump in your throat.

“How do you know?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Intuition,” you replied. Smiling. Maybe taking things on faith wasn’t such a bad thing these days.

Spencer smiled back just as wide, and the sun shone just a little brighter.

“Do you ever feel weird about this? Us? Seeing each other every week?” He asked. The surf crested against the rocks just beneath your feet. You watched as the tide pulled it back out, revealing the mussels hanging on below. 

“I mean, if you’d asked me several months ago, I never would’ve thought I’d end up here. But now…” You shrugged. “I don’t know. Everything feels so easy with you. Intuitive.”

“I feel the same way,” Spencer replied. The tide uncovered the sands once more. “Everyone always asks me where I go off to each week. I think they’d lose their minds if I told them.” He chuckled.

“Does anyone else know about me?” You asked. Spencer shook his head.

“I love them all, back home, but they wouldn’t understand. They’re afraid of even coming up for air. Which, I get it. There’s a huge stigma around humans. Stems from centuries ago when sailing was far more prevalent as a means of transport. But” He nudged your shoulder with his own. Static crackled in the air. “They’re not that bad.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, cheeky. It could have just been the rising sun painting everything a rosy hue, but you swore you could see a hint of redness in Spencer’s cheeks.

A wave crested against the edge of the rock, saltwater spray misting your face. You waited, patient, before scooting closer to him. Testing the waters.

Sunlight danced off his scales, giving way to breathtaking rainbows of color. Just based on the intensity of the sun, you knew you’d have to get going soon, but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away.

“You can touch them, you know.” You snapped your head up at that. He wasn’t looking at you as he spoke, like he was embarrassed to even be talking about the concept.

“I thought you didn’t like to be touched,” you softly countered. Spencer had made it very well known when the two of you had initially met that he was not big on human touch. Over the months, you’ve had some accidental touches here and there, even a few purposeful ones, but never of his tail. The tail was always off limits. You’d assumed it was a combination of a mermaid thing and some kind of quirk that was so uniquely Spencer.

“I don’t like to be touched by strange humans. I trust you.” He looked up into your eyes and you suddenly saw the sincerity in his gaze. He offered a soft smile that made your stomach flip. This wasn’t something to be taken lightly, but the fact that he trusted you meant everything.

You gave him a silent smile in return, let him read your face to see how much he meant to you, before you slowly reached out your hand. He gave you a small nod as if to say it’s okay, you can touch.

Gingerly, you let your fingers brush along the scales. Spencer let out a small gasp at the contact, nearly inaudible. You traced the edges with your hand, smoothing out until your whole palm was on the cool surface. It was still a little damp, with some kind of viscous sheen over the top of it. You didn’t mind, though. You never minded when it came to Spencer.

You felt his tail almost lean into the touch, as if he was trying to hold back from it but something primal within him just couldn’t resist. The moment was strangely intimate – him allowing you a closeness that so few ever get to experience. The ocean waves returned to your chest in full force.

Spencer watched you as you traced along the scales, every groove and dip being explored. You admired his patience as you quenched your curiosity. It was about so much more than that to you, though. And you couldn’t help but think he felt the same.

Seconds turned to minutes until the two of you had relaxed into what had become a natural, comforting position. Your hand brushing up and down his tail in a rhythmic motion. Soothing you both in the face of what was to come.

“There’s a storm coming,” you mentioned, trying not to let the anxiety creep into your voice. Spencer hummed in acknowledgement.

“I know. I can feel it. The anticipation. The water changes when things like this are about to happen.” You retracted your hand, the resulting emptiness of it feeling distractingly cold. You couldn’t read Spencer’s expression.

“Yeah, we can feel it in the air up here, too,” you replied. He scooted forward and swished his tail in the water, the movement rippling out. If a butterfly flutters its wings, you thought. “I’m probably going to have to head out soon,” Spencer added. “To avoid the storm.”

You nodded; throat suddenly dry. “That makes sense. I want you to be safe.” It was true. Tara could attest to the obvious anxiety the storm had been causing you. You needed him to be safe.

“We haven’t missed a Sunday yet,” he said, licking his lips. “I’ll probably be gone for a few days. I might not make it back in time.” You nodded. You didn’t mention that the thought of not seeing him, not having your weekly Sunday routine, made your insides turn to sullen mush. Like the wet sand squishing beneath your feet.

“We’ll be okay,” you affirmed, putting on a smile. Spencer returned it. You got the feeling that you weren’t just talking about a Sunday, but rather something far bigger than either of you could fathom.

You spent the rest of your time together engaged in pleasant conversation, but neither one of you could deny the feeling that something pivotal was happening. And you weren’t sure whether it would have a happy ending.

When you realized you had to leave, you and Spencer didn’t say goodbye. You simply parted ways, knowing what was to come. Something more ominous than any storm. Than any hurricane. So, you didn’t say goodbye. Because this wasn’t goodbye.

And because some things were better left unspoken.

[next chapter]

A/N: Thank you all for sticking with this story that Im so excited to be telling! Consider reblogging or dropping a comment if you enjoyed :) It’s a writer’s fuel

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[constantvariations]

V9C8

I cannot believe I’m awake when the episode drops holy shit. I’m also drunk af bc it’s my weekend off so I might not be as sharp as I’m usually am (not) but guess we’ll see lol. Also the devil works hard but pirates work harder. Bless them yardee hars yo ho

Post Ep: uhh I genuintely dunno what to say here :/ MKEK fucked over literally the only aspect of v9 i liked so i guess imma rot or smth idk

Genuinely funny (by which I mean what the absolute fuck) that the warning does not, in fact, warn the viewer of fucking anything. Reminds me of the conversation in Criminal Minds where the unit receives a bomb threat and have to wait for it to explode because sending out a general bomb alert would halt the entirety of the country in a panic. Wasn’t there a tiktok about this exact thing? One that went liek “TRIGGER WARNIGN! TRIGGER WARNING!“ but never told you wh at the warning was? Feels like this shit

Back at it again with this pov shit? With the hentai panting? Why is it always with the hentai panting???

“Why did you shout at everyone like that?” Sometimes it’s hard to remember that Little is supposed to be like... a child? I guess? in the Wonderland spectrum of things, so them not knowing what a mental breakdown looks like is both in character and entirely unhelpful in the narrative, considering how easily Ruby brushes off the inquiry

This is probably the most tolerant Ruby’s voice acting has been in the last many seasons. It’s not high and nasally enough to scrape my skull!

Not gonna lie, having Ruby finally break down against the shittiest of tree textures is so fucking funny I can’t take this seriously. It looks like she’s wailing into a painted wall

“If you’re going to stay with me, you’re going to end up dead, too.” Ruby, the only dead people that you supposedly gave a shit about are Penny and Pyrrha. You don’t know about Clover or Ironwood, you definitely didn’t give a shit about that Forrest guy from V7, and it’s still up in the air if you know about Penny 2.0. You haven’t even mentioned Qrow, your father, or the rest of ORNJ, so what the fuck are you referencing here? Your mother, whom you only started being compromised about 2 seasons ago? Big fuckety whoop, no one cares

Ohhhh noooo not the shithead mouse character being saddddd and left behinddddd whateverr shall we doooooo

Aight what’s with the butterfly thing. If it’s supposed to symbolize Summer Rose in some way, it was never foreshadowed and only the barest of threads (butterflies being pollinators of flowers) would connect this shit. There’s a difference between subtlety and bullshit

Uhhhh did Ruby stumble into a casino house of Neo? Is this Neo backstory we’re getting into? Honestly, that’s way more intriguing than anything our heroes have going on

OH SO NOW RUBY CAN USE HER FUCKING SCYTHE WITHOUT GETTIN TRIGGERED

Why did they have to drag Roman into Maya? Didn’t they do him dirty enough by having him be eaten by a stupid grimm? Is this even the same voice actor? It’s not as... sultry

WHY YOU GOTTA DO PYRRHA DIRTY LIKE THIS WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HER MOUTH THERE’S NO TEXTURE ON HER CLOTHES WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

Holy shit the animation of Roman jumpin on the table is sending me into the fuckign statosphere fucking hlep

Can’t even have a normal transformation animation between scythe to snipe it’s gotta be a spinny bullshit thing ugh. Take me back to episode 1 I miss that shit

Who is voicing Roman there’s no way this is the original VA Imma strnagle this bithc

“But we all remember how that ended.” Is this based on actual events or what Neo has interpreted? This entire scene has been nothing but bullshit so far, and not even the fun kind that Roman used to produce

“You still blame me for what happened to Torchwick?” Bitch what the absolute fuck makes you think that? What clues could you possibly have that Neo blames you specifically when there are so many random people at this table? It’s not like you’ve ever claimed to be responsible for any of these peoples’ deaths, so why is this the fucking conclusion you make? Other than having writer’s clairvoyance of course

Okay, despite not knowing at the moment what it means, I do like the detail of Roman not stepping on the teacup before but once shit gets real he demolishes it. Still don’t like how ugly he is though. Leave my dead gay son alone

I don’t know if I’ve said it before but I fucking HATE the eyeshadow on the character in Maya. Why is Neo’s fucking mint green? She’s NEO-FUCKING-POLITIAN WHY IS THERE FUCKING GREEN IN HER GODDAMN COLOR PALLETE WHEN IT’S FUCKIN WHITE BROWN AND PINK

“I’m going to enjoy watching you break.” Does Neo not have any sort of contact via her clones or whatever? Did she not see how helpless Ruby was last episode to her Jabber? Because it was very heavily implied she knew when that one turned into her before shattering. Neo didn’t have to do shit to make Ruby break, her so called friends were doing that better than Neo ever could Also, the smiles on everyone’s faces as they say this is 100% me when I write my characters going through some fucked up shit. Neo should’ve gone into theater and literally none of this would have happened lmao

It’s uhhhhhh kinda telling that Yang is the first to stop and bitch about Ruby’s behavior. “How could she jsut run off like that?” damn it’s like your sister knew you ddidn’t give hafl a flying fuck about her and dipped Yang OHMYGOD YANG BEING PISSED THAT RUBY DIDN’T TALK TO THEM I’M FUCKING WHEEZING Girl you were so busy being buried in the pussy you didn’t notice your own sister having a full ass breakdown. I do not feel sorry for you “She could’ve just talked to us” like you talked to her after you lost your arm? Oh, wait, YOU DIDN’T FUCKING DO THAT YANG. You literally told her to LEAVE YOU ALONE. Ain’t that a bitch, huh

“We say things like ‘we believe and you’ and ‘we can count on you’” holy shit this is smth I would expect from the yt exercise gurus I watch after work shifts not from my close personal friends this is so fuckign funny

“It’s not like we’re asking her to be perfect” well mf did you ever, idk, COMMUNICATE THAT. Because, lmee tell you as someone who WAS expected to be perfect at all times, that shit be damaging as fuck. I can’t even let typos happen in funny instances without a voice in my head screaming to fix them

Oh great we get the generic meandering vocals during a pvp platform fight. Do they write these lines knowing they’ll be translated into a game soon? There’s no way “I was the best and brightest Beacon had to offer” comes off naturally otherwise

Ruby literally clambered onto the only structure in the room for defense? Girl at this point you are asking to die lmao

AND HER AURA SHATTERS AT THAT MEASLY DROP I AM FUCKING SOBBING JUST KILL THE BITCH AND BE DONE WITH IT

“Just like you were too late to save me at the Vytal festival.” Bitch that literally didn’t matter shit since you came back in V7. You’re literally wearing your V7/8 outfit. Shut the absolute fuck up you fucking waste of potential and hair space goddamn

“Can you imagine what it’s like to be failed time and time again by someone who meant the world to you” oh like Oz? The guy you demonized for the last few seasons? The guy who was roasted alive by his wife after she butchered their FOUR FUCKIGN CHILDREN?

Also Ruby does not use her FUCKIGN SEMBLANCE BITHC ARE YOU WANTING TO FUDCKIGN DIE THEN DIE ALREADY GODDAMMIT

Okay I can’t put my finger on it, but the animation of Pyrrha going around her staff to kick Ruby is really fucking weird. Maybe because it seems like her spear is merely resting on the ground instead of impaling it? (My current MC had a similar move so this is important to me lmao)

While I do appreciate the line of “have you stopped to consider if you’re doing more harm than good” coming from Ironwood, it’s not really Ironwood saying it, is it? How the absolute FUCK would Neo know this? Was she witness to what was happening, did she figure it out with context clues, or is this another case of writer clairvoyance?

While I guess it is within canon rights to have Neo know that Oscar is Oz’s new host, I’m very much confused about this particular course of action [turning Ozpin into Oscar] from Neo. When it was her vs Cinder,  Neo just tried to annihilate her, but with Ruby she wants to be Jigsaw??? MKEK learn character consistency I am BEGGING

Listen... I know Ruby is in an emotionally compromised state, and that in any other scenario this would be intensely heart-breaking, but with how contrived this entire scene is, I cannot give half a flying fuck about Ruby’s mental state because it’s too damn funny how easily she falls into Neo’s lap. You walked into this giant ass casino, can’t you just walk out? We ain’t seen you try yet, so either you (and the writers) are too stupid to think of it, or it was shuffled off screen, neither of which are a good look babe. Especially when that damned mouse is in the wings for SOME goddamn reason. Probably the next fucking deus ex mouse

RUBY’S HICCUPS SOUND EXACTLY LIKE MY PRINTER IM FUCKIGN WHEEZING

Okay, so Neo offering the tea makes it seem like that’s a path to the Ascension that everyone’s so gung-ho about, which makes me question why the paper pleasers needed to have a whole ass suicide dam-break to ascend if all they needed was some leaf-tea. I also think I’m putting more thought into this than the fucking writers, which, honestly, is par for the course

WAIT WHOA HOLD UP that was some geometric shit hitting Neo into the fucking next generation. Everything in Wonderland is ~whimsy and frolic~ not Square (tm) so wtf is going on

Goddammit again with this pov shit? Whoever suggested it in the group orgy should be drug out to the street and shot

CURIOUS!!! THE ONLY BITCH THAT MATTERS TO ME even if he is ugly as sin

“(Ruby) I don’t want to be me anymore” well aint that just more gasoline to my theory that Ruby’s gonna try to sacrifice herself to the tree No joke, if RT (and for any dumbass who needs clarification, CRWBY is 100% RT property) tries to imply in any goddamn way that sacrifice is the only way to achieve happiness (especially when it comes to other people’s happiness) I will come to each of their houses and shred their shoes, their paintings, and dismantle their ovens

Altho, no joke, I would much rather prefer Curious as our MC instead simply because they are curious and would potentially be able to ask questions about the world that our actual mains would take for granted, like idk wtf is dust and where does it come from? (Mainly stemming from my hc that dust is the remains of human souls that grimm devour but can’t actually process. Like... how else are you gonna reconcile the dust that made Adam ((the original biblical man)) with the dust of Remnant?)

Oh wow so we’re actually going for the take that the cat was evil the whole time? Is that what we’re doing? No nuance about a creature merely curious about a world outside its own? We’re going full fucking body snatcher?

I absolutely HATE this take on the Curious Cat. MKEK. Give me your addresses so I can beat your asses in the nearest Dennys parking lot. I think you sorely need some lessons in humility. Suck my entire asshole

Is Little really fucking hurt by being slung .2 feet from a tail whip? Fucking really?

And now Neo and Curious are fighting over Ruby’s fate. Someone bring back the forced love triangle of Hunger Games (which was forced by the publishers NOT the writer btw) instead of this shit before I throw myself into a lava pit because honesty it this is far shittier than HG

Wtf are Ruby’s fingers bloodied from? Wielding Crescent Rose for .2 seconds? Girl you have been handling this weapon for fucking years, but spinning it around a couple of times makes her bleed? Bitch play Paganini’s 24 Caprices then say how your fingers feel (For clarification purposes, I only know this because I’m writing characters who know how to play the violin, not because I know violin myself despite how much I fucking want to. V from DMC5 has me in a fucking chokehold lemme tell you-*dies*)

“I have been trying to wear you down for so long” BITCH FUCKING WHERE. WHERE THE ABSOLUTE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN WEARING RUBY DOWN MORE THAN HER TEAMMATES OR GENERAL FUCKING LIFE HAS ALREADY BEEN. BITHC FUCKING WEHRE

“I need to know why my makers left me here.” This makes me think that the Wonderland was structured by the shitheel gods of light and dark. Perhaps the cat was one of their compromises, which is why they’re such a wildcard? But that would make so many questions about the purpose of Wonderland itself and we all know that MKEK can’t be bothered with things like worldbuilding or nuance or anything remotely resembling intelligence (also I read once that black scelera ((the white part of the eye)) is a sign of pure truth/desire so honestly this is incredibly intriguing even though I know it won’t end in anything satisfactory)

NEO STEPS ON LITTLE BEST CHARACTER EVER 10/10

The cup sliding into frame after Ruby’s frantic eyes is literally so fucking funny how do they expect to take me seriously when the framing has the subtlety of a drunk elephant?

Ohmygod the way JWBY ran into the room like PS2 characters I’m fucking wheeazing

Ohmygod this is literally the most flaccid way to force a person into your perspective. Like... Ruby got kicked around a little bit after venturing into an OBVIOUSLY NOT GOOD PLACE and then decides to drink the airport jungle juice right as she’s about to be rescued and not ONE FUCKING CHARACTER WITH RANGED ARSENAL SHOOTS THE MUG OUT OF HER HAND

Honestly there are times where it really hits me how RWBY is a show about plot that isn’t plot instead of characters, and it’s moments like these where I’m like “damn, these people are acting to the script instead of their character huh” Like... it would’ve been something profound if the tea drinking had happened moments prior to their arrival instead of “hey watch me drink this fuckin tea while I reflect in your stupid eyeball instead of you doing literally anything about it despite that the supposed fact that you fucking raised me YANG, so watch me drop into this fuckkin hole I guess”

At the very least I guess the writers realized that Neo’s sole purpose was offing Ruby because... Roman was in her vicinity when he died???

OHMYGOD THE FACT THAT THE PERSON WHO REACTS TEH MOST TO RUBY DRINKGING THE FUCKIGN JUICCE IS CURIOUS IS FINEING SENDING ME

SHES A FUCKING CORN COB BSBE IM FUCNG CRYIGN

Okay, Curious fixating on Neo is one BILLION percent more interesting than anything jrwby has going on. Once again, fuck this main storyline bullshit and give Curious their own damn show

Also, nlg, the facct that Curious is Geometric rather than Organic in terms of design (squares vs spirals for the at home group) is super fucking cool and I desperately need an entire goddamn story abt them pronto. I would absolutely love to see how they interact with Remnant and if they’d be able to have their weird ass powers in the dimension of mortals. That is so much more interesting than literally anything our main crew has proposed in literally years, especially since these dumb mfs aint ever talked about whether or not its okay to kill a whole ass human being for their cause (and faunus are human beings. Fuck off if you think that some shtity tail or ears makes you not a whole ass person)

These mfs cannot let the bee train go for a single second can they? These bitches gotta be hit inot the sam efukcin wall while Weiss gets left all alone. Yknow. Like her family let her be for th emost part. Glad to see that RT’s priority is rainbow capitialism instead of genuine storytelling

Well that is a hentai trope I did not expert to see today. Though the fact that it’s Neo does not surprises me at fuckign all. Mmmm love me some fcking body possession. Great job Rt on making on your female characters be absolutely consumed by a foreign entity that surely isn’t a fucking metaphor for antyhign yknow the fucking facehuggers were’nt a metaphor for shit didnt yha know????

May I say to MKEK, absolutely fuck you for makign the cat an undeniable villain. Can you guys not handle even an iota of moral greyness? Can you not conceive of the idea of a situation that is not merely good vs evil? I ask you to look at the world today, and tell me that evil arises merely because it can rather than as a symptom of a society that refuses to care for all its citizens. Can you not idealize a person who, when pressed to their absolute brink, will take upon violence to ensure that the seeds they sow will bring sustenance to those who come later? For fuck’s sake I’ll take a person who idealizes themselves for morally grey reasons other than what the fuck ever these dipshits are trying to sell to me

Wow aint it so spectaculaar that Curious invaded the one person who wasn’t important to the writers plot adn now our heroes can now kill her without any iota of guilt? Aint that fucking nifty? Aint that fuckign grand? And not even a fucking thought extended to teh idea tha Crurius wanted to see the outside world. THat was their main reason for helping the siblings right? Because Alyx promised them that she would bring him to Remnant? But taht whole plotline is gone because it’s jsut TOO SPICY FOLKS. Can’t have anything interesting in our show about FAIRTYTALES whene we’re in a FAIRTYTALE LAND

Honestly, fuck you MKEK, fuck you RT, fuck you any god that ever alloweed existence to happen. THis is fucking bullshit

It was only through looking up the info on the internet that I learned that Roman Torchwick’s og VA died of colon cancer prior to this volume (2022). Mr Kametz, I hope you rest well and know that your expertise was greatly appreciated. May you know peace in the beyond

#rwde #soorry that i'm like suer fuckign drukn for thos shit but works been albsoulte hell this fuckign weeek #i was like half as drunk whe writing the main shit than the tags so hopefully it all makes sense #either way its a shit fucking episdoe #why the fuck would anyone green lite this hit i have no fucking clue #rt must have no fuckign standards bc if my drun k as shti ass can still laught at your 'emotional scenes' then you got a fuckign problem #my dumb as can cry at jsut about antyhging #i cred at that shthead snape findign lily's body in harry terfly pottery #so if i dont cry at your bullshti then you fucked up in ways that not even god can correct

[airyairyaucontraire]

Watching S3E02 The Mandalorian, "The Mines of Mandalore"

My reactions and flagrant spoilers are behind the cut.

IS THERE GOING TO BE POD RACING

IT SOUNDS A LOT LIKE THERE'S POD RACING AFOOT

I see Peli hasn't got that tooth fixed, dental continuity on this show

I probably can't hope to see Boba and Fennec and Cobb in this episode, can I? The show's just going to taunt me with being on the same planet and not getting to see them.

nice flip, kid!

"Are you taking out Boba Fett?" Yes, for dinner and dancing.

(It feels off to me when people say BOBA fett and not Boba FETT. It's like the whole PEANUT butter/peanut BUTTER thing. I say peanut BUTTER and Boba FETT.)

"Spelunking? What are you spelunking?" I told you I'm taking Boba out.

okay, so you could just get a canary

and yes... this IS the droid with a bad motivator that Uncle Owen didn't quite buy.

IS COBB AT THE RACES THIS BOONTA EVE

IS HE WATCHING THE FIREWORKS ON A BALCONY WITH BOBA AND FENNEC

ARE THEY ALL WEARING FANCY SILK SHIRTS AND DRINKING FIZZY WINE

ARE THEY AT LEAST HAVING A GOOD TIME TOGETHER

WITHOUT ME

okay, Din sympathetically telling Grogu "I know, it looks scary" is precious. He's interacting with him so much more openly and emotively and it's really sweet. He's entered Full Dad Mode. We have only seen a fraction of his dadliness to date.

what a dump

I mean sorry about your cherished heritage and stuff but... what a dump

you know who you could've brought to help you with this mission?

someone from a MINING COMMUNITY

(someone who also prominently wears red)

this honestly does not bode well for R4

yeah he's toast

and now Din has Darth Vader breath noises

Troglodytes! Morlocks!

I love to see how bad you suck with that darksaber still, Din

listen, just because the air's breathable doesn't mean Mandalore isn't cursed

some pretty accursed shit went down there

(gestures in the general direction of Maul)

So he's just altogether given up on the idea of reviving IG-11? It doesn't matter any more that they were friends? Because he seemed really into that in the previous episode.

yep, figured there'd be Remains

ooh! and a trap

what the fuck is this guy's problem?

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD'VE COME WITH A FRIEND YOU BIG SHINY DUMMY

YOUR PLANS ARE TERRIBLE

I WOULDN'T LET YOU ORGANISE A PISS-UP IN A BREWERY

and from inside the giant creepy robot emerges... a smaller, creepier robot

okay, endlessly enjoyable to watch Grogu toddle (or yoddle)

and use the little he's learned from the like weekend (DEFINITELY NOT TWO YEARS) he spent with Luke

"Get to Bo-Katan"

he needs an adult and that's the adult you tell him to go for?

THAT one?

can R4 even understand Grogu? Do droids UNDERSTAND GROGU? Are we going back to the Legends thing that R4 is Force-sensitive (hence he blew out his motivator intentionally so that R2 would get picked instead) and they're communicating that way?

WHY DOES SHE SIT AROUND ON A THRONE

GET A JOB BO-KATAN

well I guess now you've got a job of sorts, Rescue Spelunker

"Let's get rid of him once and for all" "I want to be left alone" "I will immediately drop everything and go to find you on a planet where most of the worst events of my life happened"

Well, when I say "drop everything," she was doing literally nothing

Of course, I get that Bo-Katan must be horribly lonely and really very bored, but jumping into doing this all by herself... well, it reinforces the general, traditional Mandalorian lack of common sense, so I guess she's a credit to her culture

I do enjoy her swaggery walk, good walking work by Katee Sackhoff

More troglodytes and morlocks!

of course he didn't think his dad was the only Mandalorian, and it's a strange line. Grogu's met her before, together with Koska and Axe, and seen them fight (they rescued him from being eaten by yet another monster), so of course he didn't think that, and of course seeing that Bo-Katan is good at this sort of thing shouldn't be a big surprise for him.

What's this jerk even trying to do? Exsanguinate him? What for?

and at least Bo-Katan knows what to do with a darksaber (and since Din lost it in a fight and she picked it up, doesn't that give her dibs again?)

YET ANOTHER, SMALLER, CREEPIER ROBOT

there's just a little eye guy in there, isn't there?

well there was

what was he trying to do there? shall we ever know?

"How did you find me?" "Your kid." The one you apparently don't remember telling to go and find me.

the acknowledgement that Din is Grogu's dad and Grogu is Din's kid is however appreciated

it's not his fucking fault they didn't have your favourite soup where he grew up, you crud bucket

When she says "I didn't embarrass him in front of everyone," is that a reference to Satine?

Interesting how what we expected to be the big season quest, finding a way to the Living Waters in the first place, is apparently accomplished in episode 2.

yeah, naturally there's something ghastly in the water that pulled him down, it's like you idiots don't know you're in Star Wars sometimes

so Bo-Katan has to rescue his doofy ass again

is that a mythosaur? were they aquatic? somehow never pictured them that way!

well, meanwhile Boba, Fennec and Cobb had a simply lovely time at the races, got a little bit tipsy, all fell asleep in a cuddle puddle with Jolene the baby rancor

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian s3

[rsbigbang]

hello <3

I have never joined a fest before and I'm a bit nervous about having to adhere to a deadline. I write fic and although I only have one posted so far, I am working on three WIPs at the same time that I will post to ao3 when finished (publishing chaptered fics when the fic isn't finished yet stresses me out) but I have a very very busy life and I'm not sure I can make it work, but I really want to participate.

I know this isn't really a question per se but I was hoping maybe you had some advice about working to deadline when it comes to fic?

hi hi friend!! it is so totally fair to be nervous about this, however I cannot stress enough that the consequences for not making the deadline are, uh, VERY FEW.

Listen. We will try our darndest to wrangle and cheerlead people to the finish line, because we really want everyone who signs up to feel like they've completed their goal to the best of their ability!! we are here in the discord to offer advice on how to carve out writing time, how to write outlines, how to overcome writers block, etc etc! we WAnT everyone who signs up to finish their fic and feel proud of it! that's what makes the Big Bang so exciting!

But real life comes first, every time. (don't come at me for "real life", I know this is also real life, you know what I mean.) if you are busy offline, please please prioritize that! If you feel stressed out because you don't think you can make the deadline AND be happy with the fic..... DON'T. As soon as this is not fun, it is not the right fest. And if you don't make the writing deadline.... nothing will happen. We are not here to punish you!! you will probably still have most of a fic written!! you can still publish it on your own when it's done, or save it for the Big Bang 2024!! (which is def happening btw, we have plans)

Also, if it helps, the first fests I did were lower pressure and lower word-count (and more forgiving on timelines) than the Big Bang. That could be an easier way to write for your first fest if you're still nervous!

okay all that being said, advice on writing to a deadline below the cut

Outlining. An outline serves multiple purposes: it puts your thoughts in order, helps with structure and pacing right off the bat, AND can mean that if you're stuck on one part you can always jump ahead a few scenes and start somewhere else fresh before coming back to where you got stuck. It can also sorrrrrt of work as a schedule: "I want THIS part done by this time," etc.

Sprints. I find sprints super helpful — they are a way to get writing without the pressure of every sentence being perfect, plus they structure your time in a way that, yes, is totally artificial and unenforced, but FEELS real. They are the best way to conquer the blank page imo. Doing them with friends is extra helpful as a way to keep yourself accountable.

Carve out writing time. Literally put it into your calendar and make it an appointment. (Sounds simple but hey, we all have jobs & friends & other hobbies, I get it.) Personally I write every weekend morning at a local coffee shop, unless I'm out of town or an event is unmissable. That's pretty much all the time I can carve out reliably, but it works, and it's started to feel sacred.

Call a friend. Tell a friend (or your beta) what you want to have done by what time. Sometimes knowing that you'll have to confess to them that you haven't done it is what pushes a few more paragraphs out.

Any more advice?? Feel free to send it to our inbox!

xx molly

#ask box #r/s big bang #have advice on writing to a deadline that we missed? send it to our inbox!

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

⭐ Chapter 8

This is another Yorick chapter, & it's also the final chapter before we reach "season 1, episode 1!" (yes, it took me 8 chapter to wrap up the "childhood arc")

It's weird, because I have many feelings about this chapter, but I am not sure how to articulate them? I will attempt, though! So, Yorick, like, he gets a taste of normal male interaction throughout a chunk of chapter 8. He's at Storm's End for His Boy Borros's wedding, & Borros's Boys™️are there, & they like him/accept him into the group as "Borros's weird younger cousin who he likes a lot, so we'll be nice to him." And I love Borros & His Boys™️so much. Devoid of context they are in a comedy, actually. Like, in the same way that, devoid of context, pre!Reek Theon is hilarious.

During his interactions with Borros & His Boys™️Yorick actually, like, comes out of his anxiety shell that he's been developing since he got forced to be Daemon's squire. They go on a "stag weekend" hunting trip, & just, like...they're all so regular. They're so regular. Yorick doesn't know what to do with himself because they aren't assholes to him like his dad or the City Watch, & they treat him like your average pre-teen with autonomy & opinions unlike Viserys. He gets his first sip of beer, I'm pretty sure he inadvertently gets The Talk just because all these late teens/early 20s guys are trying to Out-Chad each other. And he smiles, like, he smiles big & genuine & happy for the first time since he was, like, seven. He jokes with them! It's just...it is so wholesome & I want to live in the opening sequence of Chapter 8. I don't care that I, personally, don't like hunting: nothing can hurt you or be bad in the opening sequence of chapter 8! Don't look at the title being "Toppled Tower" or where we fall in the timeline of Alicent's life. That isn't important. And we can ignore Viserys. This isn't about him! Come back here, wholesome moments from Yorick having healthy male bonding!

Borros And His Nasty Boys (affectionate name because of events that happen surrounding later events) are absolutely delightful to me. They aren't "favorite side character" status, but they're good:

Borros Baratheon is simply, the most 20-year-old guy ever & he's taking his younger, first cousin once-removed under his wing to be a beacon of emotional safety purely because "he thinks I'm cool, & also he seems really lonely." He makes sure Yorick gets included in things & he laughs at his jokes & he's the aforementioned "giver of the first beer" (don't pay attention to the fact Yorick is 12. This is Westeros, it's fine)

Rory Dondarrion is accidentally relevant because I forgot Criston's dad worked for his family, & he's just Borros's more literate, less bombastic cousin who actually stops & things about things, but then still decides to go along with Borros for the laugh of it & also because "we are friends & you stick with your friends." And he just...he shows his love by making fun of you. Because he's just, like, a misplaced modern UK idiot boy who wears ugly street clothes & goes to the pub & unironically chants "LADS!" with his friends when he gets drunk

Symon Lonmouth is there so someone besides Laenor cares about Joffrey, & he's arguably the same archetype as Rory, but in a way more toned down way. He makes dumb jokes with his little brother, & he shows care for the people around him, & he takes things a bit too seriously because it's all fun & games until Yorick makes a dark joke & then he has no idea what to do with himself because he wants to be taken seriously so bad that it's silly.

Kevan Tarth, simply put, wants what Harwin Strong has. He wants to be chadly & universally hot, & he's not not successful at flirting, he's also just, like, 16. You are not going to be a gigachad at 16. Also, he is the cousin of Vaemond Velaryon's wife! That's not relevant to his character, but it is fun!

Not part of the regular friend group, but I also need to talk a little about the brothers of Borros's wife: the Caron brothers do not have characters, not really. The Caron brothers exist so I could name them after Peter & Edmund Pevensie, & proceed to give them that same age gap.

Chapter 8...chapter 8. I don't think it's one of my favorites (not to say I dislike it, I just have favorite chapters), but it does have a favorite sequence. A sequence of all time. I wanted to have quotes in this one, because I like when I can have quotes, but I would just be pasting the majority of the hunting trip into this ask 😅

#asks #sotf commentary #fic: sins of the father #borros & his nasty boys: stealing one of boreumd's boats to go commit crimes against humanity in essos #because their collective little cousin got dragged to war #(between chapters 10 & 11--so not relevant here. but I LOVE them. they're so ridiculous in concept) #(these boys shouldn't be in westeros they should be in the club) #nat tag

[makiandcheese]

Notes in blue ink

Kaeya / Rosaria

tags: childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, domestic fluff, modern au, non-sexual physical touch

a/n: I made this on my phone, so sorry if the format is weird

☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆

summary: Kaeya and Rosaria reminisce on the past that led to their matching rings.

☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆

Once in a blue moon, Kaeya would ask a question that would leave Rosaria stunned. He once asked her about her dream home after her comments about the Ragnvindr household. At first, she thought about it and realized she had nothing to answer. She was particularly interested in interior decor but not so much in the structure itself.

After a few moments of silence, she expressed how she liked big windows that brought the natural light in. Much like the sliding doors in Varka’s home since it brought in warmth, she once took for granted in the orphanage. Rosaria preferred a house that was not too boxy or too geometrically structured, as she states. She expressed how the exterior could also affect her time there.

"I want a nice, warm, kinda gothic home. I don't want plain whites everywhere." She said, leaning on the school garden railing at lunch. "But… to be honest, I don't really care as much."

Kaeya’s eyes rolled. She said she didn't care but stated specifics down to how she wanted the knobs at the drawers would look like. "You literally said a lot of things. Are you worried I’ll judge you, is that it?." he asked. "Come on, lighten up. Plus take this as a… practice question to when you'd get to date someone."

"Sounds like you're trying to coax me to come to another blind date again." Rosaria grinned and traced the specks of sunlight hitting Kaeya's face from the tree above them. "I'm not interested in another one of those events."

"Then," words he kept deep in his veins and arteries slipped out his tongue. "Imagine I'd come to visit your home. What would it look like?"

She turned away from him and traced the same light from the trees from her hands to her fingertips. "Well…" She smiled and stuck her tongue inside her cheek to prevent herself from showing anymore. "You wouldn't be able to guess because you'd come at 10 pm on a Friday with three bottles of alcohol, that's for sure."

"Hey!"

"But… I'd take you to the kitchen, and there'd be some barstools by my kitchen island. We'd share several glasses like how we already do at your place. You'd complain about your family, and I'd complain about the severe consequences of capitalism on Mondstadt." Rosaria's mind was flooded with the thought of Kaeya by her side for years to come. "You'd hand me a glass of something Diluc taught you, and, for some reason, I'd still be more sober than you."

His hands traced the floor plan in the air. Making sure she doesn't turn, he said. "Oh please, there's not a chance in hell you'd have a higher alcohol tolerance than me."

"We'd spend what little time we have together, and I sober myself up before I drive you home." It agonized her to remind him that they were still friends. "Your partner would be angry at me for letting you drink so much on a weekend."

Kaeya’s lips bled internally, hearing her say those words. He would stay by her side on her soft carpet by the sofa if he had the chance. He visualized exactly what their typical day would look like. He'd lean on her shoulder, and like snow, she'd melt in his. "Do we really have to live that far? I want us to be neighbors, in maybe… 20 years?"

"Fine, we'd live right next to each other." Rosaria said, leaning forward so her face wouldn't show how her brows began to wrinkle her forehead. "We'd have those shared fruit trees in the back though. I'll take whatever sunsettias I can."

"It'll be sour. So sour on your side." Kaeya pushed her shoulder. "I'd still give you the sweet ones since you'd probably have the best house pet. I'd come and visit just to see it."

Rosaria turned to him, pointing to herself, raised eyebrow and all, "You're not even going to acknowledge the homeowner? man, fuck you." She pushed him back.

"Yeah because at least it won't be late to class." The bell rang just as he predicted it. "Last one to Mr. Yang's class doesn't wipe their ass when they take a shit!" Taunting her as they both ran back to their building, all the way at the opposite side of the campus.

"You ass!" Rosaria ran to him and was amused at how easily she caught up. "Last one has to pay for cornetto later." Noticing the passing volleyball and basketball joint varsity jog, she rushed through. Leaving Kaeya trying to move past them. She was then blocked by the construction worker's materials stacked by their path.

No matter the obstacle, they still arrived at their classroom seconds before the afternoon prayer. The same old prayer they memorized even if their ears were blocked with their heartbeats and breaths. The same old prayer neither of them cared to listen to.

As they discussed the relevance of historical events per Mr. Yang's guidance, Kaeya noted every architectural detail Rosaria said to his question. He did his best to hide the fact that the subject of his notetaking was taking a light nap from the history instructor. The breeze of a February afternoon filled the room and fluttered the curtains, perfectly hiding the sleeping girl at the farthest back of the class.

Years passed, and he still kept that same old notebook with the same old prayer engraved at the back. Historical notes filled the front, and several pages at the back were what she said. She, too, kept a similar notebook, except it was her personal journal. It told details about how Kaeya looked that day and what he asked. It was brief. A mere paragraph at least, but it was enough to fill her pages with emotions she felt.

Kaeya asked me what house I wanted to live in. To be honest, I really don't care. A roof, no roof, broken walls, tall fences, fancy windows, none of it matters. He just had to be there.

My home Our home.

He also told me that if we're still single by 30, we should get married for the benefits. It was a passing statement, but I really hoped he would stay a loser so I could be by his side when his back begins to crack when he turns 30.

Kaeya shouldn't have read the contents of his wife's journal from 15 years ago. Now, Rosaria has to explain to him that she's really into him since they were young. Enduring his constant teasing was the worst, especially since he has hard, undeniable, written evidence. That doesn't mean she doesn't retaliate. She often stayed by the kitchen and patio she dreamed of whenever he did peek. That night, he decided to corner her in their bedroom. Reminding him of how much he had loved her since they were 16.

"Looks like someone had a huge crush on me." He said, looming over her just before she slept, continuing to bully her under their blankets. "What's wrong? It's not too late to admit it."

"Oh fuck off! You bought our house with my interests in mind. If anything, you have a huge crush on me." The weight of Rosaria's covers grew as Kaeya rested his body on top of her. Feeling pokes and hearing his lips smack over the duvet, she was kissed on her shoulder, chest, and forehead. At least, that's what it felt like for her. "You have a terrible aim." she peeked over and saw him preparing for that moment.

There are times when Rosaria keeps her journal out in the open. If he can egosurf online, there's a high chance he could egosurf his name through her journals. She ensured it was the one where she told him how much she loved him. Rosaria's cheeks were soft and warm, much like her lips. Kaeya couldn't get enough of it. "Whose got a terrible aim now?" he said, wiping her trial lip stain she put on earlier in the morning. "Look at you, so pretty and red. I think this shade is nice on you."

Rosaria mustered all her strength and rolled Kaeya over. Allowing himself to be rolled in the duvet they always shared. "Hmm… I don't think I'd like it when something isn't transfer-proof, but…" She grabbed his cheeks and placed a new coat on her lips. "I guess I won't mind testing this a few more times on my beloved."

"Rosie?" Kaeya's heart began to race, "please, mercy!!" There was no mercy left for him.

Pinned down, receiving many kisses all over his face, ears, neck, and collarbones. It was quite an eventful evening for the two. Hopefully, they remembered to check their calendars. It was the eve of their first wedding anniversary, after all. It's good that Kaeya is oblivious to Rosaria’s intentional revelation of everything she loves about him. Else, she would’ve been drowning in countless words she couldn't have the strength to say out loud.

"Sit still. I can't kiss your lips if you keep laughing and turning your head away from me." Rosaria held onto his soft cheeks. "Now turn this way and let me make up for the 15 years I didn't say it."

"Oh my fucking god. Rosie, I love you, so please spare me." He pleaded through his dimple smile.

"Not a chance."

♡

#rosaria #kaeya #kaeya x rosaria #rosakae #kaerosa #rosaria genshin impact #genshin impact kaeya #kaesaria #rosakae fic #kaerosa fic