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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

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His Closest Childhood Friend (Yandere!Diluc x Reader)

A/n: had to rewrite the last part cause OneNote said "ah yes we don't need that" lol anyways here's part 3/3 of Soldier, Poet, King. If I ever write more about this au, they will be what-if scenarios (because the end could honestly go in different ways, it's not like someone can "win" in this yandere harem). Sorry for the delay @leftdestiny-posts ;-;, hope you like it!!

Mostly gn!reader but there are some chess terms I can't change ;;-;;

An unreliable synopsis: There's a reason why Diluc is called the Uncrowned King of Mondstadt, care to take a guess?

Cw: Yandere!Diluc. (Bodily harm/burns?) Implied yan!Childe and Thoma.

Parts:

Soldier, Poet, King (You're here)

----------

If you asked Diluc who (Y/n) was, his reddened face will sputter an inadequate explanation before excusing his flustered self out of the room.

If you asked (Y/n) who Master Diluc was, they'd simply pause and say he's someone they used to be friends with.

Used to.

Diluc noticed everything about you. From how you part your hair, how your eyes crinkle at the sound of the ocean, how your eyes sharpen in deep concentration while playing chess– every little detail about you is stored in his brain. He doesn't understand when and how he gained his hypersensitive tell-spotting, all he knows now is that he is fixated. Too obsessed to turn away, but also too hyperaware of how dangerously stalkerlike he had become.

Diluc only sets his hooded, almost honey-coated gaze on you. To this day, people have questioned how you managed to overlook the perpetually lovelorn parasitic expression on his face whenever you pass by, but they have never taken into account the hurtful things Diluc says.

You two bicker daily. You, the knights, and his brother were the only people who he showed this attitude with. People mistakenly believed that his "nagging" and your complaints were just a normal aspect of an Imunlaukr-Ragnvindr friendship dynamic, and Diluc made the same error. He thought he could get away with being aloof for long enough.

That's how it was until one scorching Sunday afternoon.

"Diluc, listen to me." You spoke. He immediately noticed how your face was creased and your frown was a hair lower than before. Even so, he appeared as if he was more focused on pouring himself a cup of juice. Diluc cannot contain his heart once he looks at you straight in the eye. Fortunately, no one else was inside Angel's Share to mock him--

"I don't want to be friends anymore."

Diluc's eyes widened and he spilled his drink.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

He hastily cleaned up the spillage before staring at you, bewildered.

Did you find out? Shit. Fuck.

This can't be happening.

"I talked with a friend of mine about this and he was right." You continued. "I shouldn't continue being friends with suffocating people. You're too critical. Too cruel. I can't stand you anymore."

"And trust me, it hurts for me to end our friendship like this since we've known each other since we were kids, but please, please don't contact me ever again."

Diluc closed his eyes and breathed in.

He wasn't listening to you anymore, and for once, your voice became nothing more than background noise to him. He's drowning out all your reasonings and facets for breaking up your friendship with him.

"It's Fixer, isn't it?"

"And yo– What?"

"It's Fixer." Diluc sucked a deep breath between his gritted teeth. You gulped. His voice was nothing short of menacing. "Your pen pal. He's the one who fed you all these lies, didn't he?"

How did he know about Fixer?

"Lies?" Diluc was being the most threatening he's ever been, and although you forced yourself to scoff, it's clear that it was affecting you. "How is any of what I said lies? You talk shit about me every day. You barge into my apartment every Saturday just so you can complain about how I live my life– You're the one in the wrong here! You should be, I don't know, self-reflecting!"

"Am I? Am I in the wrong, now?" His right eye twitched. "Look at yourself. You live poorly and it reflects on your appearance. You're mentally unstable, (Y/n), and you refuse help from professionals–"

"Oh, shut up." Your eyesight started to get misty. Why is he making this all about you? "You and I both know that the therapist you recommended was a piece of shit!"

Diluc bit his bottom lip. That was his fault. He wanted a prop that will make you see all the good sides in him, and it backfired greatly. He takes full responsibility for that. Diluc would never seek to harm you truly, please have faith in that.

"Fine! That's true. But you're the one who still refuses to get their act together. You live and breathe like a homeless man in Dragonspine!"

Something inside of you snapped.

For a moment, you both paused, but not to catch your breaths. Diluc meant it when he can read you inside out. And what you're thinking right now is a terrifying notion.

"(Y/n)... Don't..."

"Maybe I should... Maybe I should do as you say this time. It's what you want to happen, right?" You laughed emptily.

"(Y/n)..."

"It's a good idea– a GREAT idea, even, Diluc." You shook your head with a mischievous grin. "I mean, I'm a social outcast at this point, so why not just embrace it, hmm?"

Diluc's knees weakened and a lump in his throat emerged. His stomach churned as he tried to quell the evergrowing unease that wrecked his entire body.

No one was thinking straight.

"Don't be stupid. You won't survive a day in Dragonspine."

"I know." You said. "But at least there would be one less problem for you to worry about, right? One less troublesome citizen in Mondstadt for you to care about."

His breath hitched.

Diluc heard a yelp.

He pulled back.

Diluc touched you. He didn't process what he had done but he grabbed your wrist and there was a burn mark where he singed it. Diluc looked down at the palm that betrayed him and the fumes that came from it only proved his guilt.

A shiver ran down his spine.

The burn marks on your skin were in the shape of his fingertips.

It was a second-degree burn.

You must be in incredible pain by now but you didn't show it, and that made Diluc all the more anxious.

"(Y/n), wait–"

Your cheeks were wet as you faced him. Whatever physical discomfort you were feeling at the time was overridden by malice.

Overridden by anger, overridden by betrayal, overridden by spite.

"Hah." You laughed bitterly.

"Compared to being stuck in a bar with you, looks like I'll be safer in the mountains after all."

No words came out of his mouth. The outcome of this argument had been decided long before he tried to get you to stay.

It was a stalemate.

You stormed out of Angel's Share afterward and that was the last time you and Diluc had a proper conversation. The people Diluc deemed most important leave him, and that is no longer a rumor but a promise after you walked out that door. Since then, you actively avoided the general public– avoided him.

Diluc started donning thick black gloves after that incident. It's impossible to convince him to take it off in public.

But that didn't stop Diluc from worrying. Every time he was far away from you, it seemed as though he was counting his breaths and breathing manually. He still manages to slot time in his schedule to look after you. From afar, of course. At this point, he is assured that you are aware of who the Darknight Hero was. Your irrational disdain for the icon contained the same venom you spare for him. Diluc can't and won't stop you from disparaging him. He was adamant that he deserved it with how he treated you.

In his vacant hours, Diluc crawls to his bed and hugs his pillow. Sometimes his fingers will grasp it in desperation, other times he would slowly caress the pillowcase and pretend that it was your back. These actions were coupled with deep breaths, and inevitable moments of indecent thoughts would emerge. The image of your inviting eyes and soft lips haunted his feverish dreams. Naturally, there are moments when he was unable to endure the coldness of being alone in a king-sized bed.

So he stalks you in the guise of "patrolling".

News that involves the Knights of Favonius travel fast, and it's no longer just a passing rumor that they will return this week. The gossipers have already chanted their "I told you so!"s before the cavalry battalions stepped foot inside Mondstadt's gates.

And you were secretly there too. It's kind of cute that despite ranting on about spending the rest of your days in an isolated Mountain, you broke that promise to see your favorite cousin.

Diluc frowned. At this point, Diluc wished you rode off Varka's coat-tails instead if it meant dissuading your aspirations will turn out like this. His relationship with the knights and your cousin may be strained, but it's still part of his duty as a Ragnvindr to treat the grand master with the utmost respect.

Even when that overprotective titan does make a habit of interfering with your relationships. But it's a reasonable vendetta. You would have been blissfully riding on horseback beside the grand master's steed if Diluc hadn't discouraged you from pursuing knighthood.

Seeing you scurry in the dark was the highlight of Diluc's day, but he raised his chin and pretended not to notice your presence. He's a renowned figure who can't hide behind the barrels as you do, so he ought to at least formally welcome Grand Master Varka Imunlaukr--

"You should watch what you say, Miss."

Diluc stopped from his trail. He had not heard it recently but there was a certain familiarity in that voice.

The scent of embers wafted in the air.

And when the smoke cleared, only one figure remained standing firm whilst the other cowered in fear.

Diluc clenched his jaw.

It was "Fixer".

"O-Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to come off that strong! I'm just saying you should be careful what you say next time! You never know if you're hurting someone already." The blonde green-eyed man babbled and shrank in an attempt to make himself look small, but the observers already know how much of a threat he truly poses.

"R-right..." Marjorie whimpered.

"Tch." Diluc unwittingly bit his nail.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it.

He believed that he made a sizable arrangement with the Tianquan to stop the majority of ships that boarded Liyue till the next month. How could Thoma possibly get here? Diluc couldn't help but feel incredibly frustrated at every sacrifice and work he made to postpone your reunion. Thoma's here, walking around with his unbelievably chipper self, so what had it all been for?!

Thoma terrified Diluc. Compared to "Ajax", he can't get rid of him by just calling him "Tartaglia" in a "slip-of-the-tongue".

But Thoma is a target now. Diluc would've gladly taken Childe as his ally to avoid the chance of Thoma winning you over, but he would rather die than be in cahoots with the Fatui. Diluc knew how in sync you two were as kids. He could not compete with what is called "natural chemistry".

The key difference is that Thoma can stop himself from hurting others, but Diluc can't help but burn you in one touch.

Diluc bit his bottom lip.

It was an irritating scenario. He could accuse Thoma of destroying private property, but that would make him look callous right away. And that's not something you want to be viewed as next to the kid who just got back in town. Diluc sucked it up and let Thoma babble on.

What happened next was a blur.

Thoma attempted to make small talk with Diluc, but one of his conversation starters triggered something that made him space out.

Diluc only realized he was already home when his butler Elzer jolted from how loud he closed the door. His mood only worsened as he glimpsed at Kaeya waiting for him on a prowl. The captain is keenly aware of Diluc's foul mood when it comes to knighthood. Diluc makes the effort to remind him in almost every interaction.

His brother gave him an omniscient smile.

"Poor Diluc... Did the grandmaster spew a long-winded Knights of Favonius hiring ad again?"

Diluc snarled. "On the contrary, I haven't encountered him."

Kaeya raised an eyebrow teasingly. This should be fun for him. Diluc had yet to kick him out. "Oh? Then why the long face?"

"You know why, Kaeya."

It's because he became so engrossed in his feelings that he failed to remember his responsibility to look after you.

Diluc leaned his head on the doorframe. He overlooked the fact that you were suffering as a result of hearing Marjorie's insults, and he should've tried to help.

He got too busy after finding out that Thoma warranted a room in Goth Hotel and he will be set to stay for two months at most, much to Diluc's dismay. He could stoop low and ask Kaeya for a scheme, but Inazuma's Tri-Commission had some cards up their sleeves. How on earth did Thoma receive a Lordship's protection? The uncrowned King of Mondstadt certainly has a pitiful lack of influence. It's petty, but he forced the hotel to raise its prices in retaliation.

Kaeya laughed. "Heh. Course I do. It's just more satisfying to hear you admit it."

The white-haired butler chimed in. "Pardon me, Master Diluc, but what should we do with the... "pest" that's lurking in Dragonspine? He seems to be getting close to (Y/n)."

"Damn it."

Diluc slammed the wall with his clenched fist. The impact didn't break anything, but the entire manor heard his outburst.

He can't touch Childe.

"Ajax" and Thoma are the only support systems you have left, and Diluc is not a horrible man to selfishly take that away from you.

You're in a fragile mental state and you need someone to talk to, and Diluc is not the right person for the job. His conversations with you frequently turn sour. Crepus brought him up to be a gentleman, yet out of concern, Diluc subconsciously uses harsher language towards you. His wit and sarcasm stand in the way of his desire to be more open. Unlike Thoma, Diluc has trouble finding the perfect words to say. Should he attempt to divulge Ajax's secret identity, you'll just come to hate him more.

Diluc loves you. And he doesn't want to see you break further. This is the least selfish wish he has.

The butler no longer tried to fish out answers while Kaeya snickered. The look on Diluc's face showed that he was back to another round of self-depreciation and Elzer didn't want to deal with the same song and dance again.

Elzer figured that it was his time to leave and let his brother handle this alone, but his master kept talking.

"Thoma's back home too."

Elzer's mouth opened in shock while Kaeya looked indifferent. It's no surprise that he already heard the news. He likely sent Huffman to solve Marjorie's problem.

"H-Huh? Mister Thoma?! I thought the ships in both Doorman port and Liyue harbor can't set sail here?"

"No shit," Diluc muttered in a low husky whisper as he removed the scrunchie that held up his high ponytail. "He must've had connections with the Tri-Commission in Inazuma. Should've guessed that sooner. A pen name like "Fixer" should've set some alarms straight off. There's a high chance Thoma became a bigshot in his father's hometown."

"Right... "Fixer"." Kaeya hummed. He propped his head up pensively.

Diluc is more than familiar with his sworn brother's body language. Whenever Kaeya relaxes into this particular demeanor, an idea would be set in stone, for better and for worse.

"You know Diluc... having a Fixer wouldn't be so bad... It would surely solve your pest problems, wouldn't you agree?"

The two were silent as they tried to decipher what the captain was attempting to insinuate.

Ahh... He's right.

Diluc smiled subtly and crossed his arms.

Kaeya can be pretty useful sometimes.

"Hah." Diluc nodded with an airy chuckle "I get it now. I can't believe I didn't think about it sooner."

"This situation is an easy Scholar's mate all along."

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A masked figure dragged Thoma away closer to Dragonspine's Outskirts in one fell swoop.

The stranger did not speak. He forced him out of the area silently and with ease. Thoma couldn't identify who it was as a golden owl-shaped mark covered his visage. Additionally, his dark cape aided to conceal most of his features. Looking up in a worm's-eye view was no help at all.

"W-Who are you?!"

The stranger glared down.

So, Thoma did come to Dragonspine. How desperate and gullible. Diluc should pay Charles extra for leading him here.

Thoma trembled. He wasn't sure if the temperature or the red glint in his opponent's eye was what caused his body to react. He crept backward as the man with the mask towered above him.

"I-I have a vision!" Thoma proudly proclaimed. "I'd think twice if I were you."

The stranger knelt to his level and yanked him by the collar. Both immediately cast fire in their palms, and that instance made Thoma falter. They're pyro vision users, yet he doubts he could put up a fight with someone twice as physically built as he is. Thoma tried to conceal his fear with a brave look, and the stranger kept quiet about how Thoma's fire was gradually fading.

"Tsk."

The stranger dropped his hold on him.

"How ungrateful. I just saved you."

The man turned his back and slowly started walking away. He raised his hand and beckoned Thoma to follow.

Thoma scrambled to get his bearings and stood up.

"E-Excuse me?"

"That Snezhnayan man you saw just now," The stranger lit up a nearby torch and continued.

"That was Tartaglia, Number 11 of the Fatui Harbingers."

"A Fatui Harbinger?"

Every alarm in Thoma's head blared in a second.

"(Y/n)!!!"

That blue-eyed man was a harbinger?! Why are you hanging out with him?! That's too dangerous! You need him NOW--

"Stay put." The stranger commanded, and the authoritative flair in his voice froze Thoma in his place. "The... fisherman is not yet aware of this fact."

"Then we should get there and tell them!-- Mmph!"

The stranger pulled him by the collar once again and covered Thoma's mouth.

"Not yet."

Diluc won't let you know just yet.

Or at the very least, he won't let Thoma play the hero.

Thoma squirmed and broke free.

"Neither of us is fully capable of tackling him head-on." The stranger said.

"But (Y/n) is in danger right now!" Thoma tried to pry his arm away from the stranger's hold but his resistance was futile. "We have to save them--"

"If you do that, Tartaglia might just put an end to their life right then and there. Do you want that to happen, Mister Thoma?"

There was a tight feeling in Thoma's throat.

(Y/n)... dead?

It was just a few sentences, but it was enough to make Thoma feel like vomiting. That made the stranger satisfied. It looks like he won't need to bluff in extreme detail on what the consequences may be.

Manipulating Thoma was disgustingly easy.

"But..."

The stranger fished out a pen and paper from his robes before handing it to him. Thoma looked down at it and sent him a quizzical look.

"If you want to save (Y/n), you can always do it through words, Fixer."

A king's moves may be restricted, but that doesn't stop him from letting others do the work for him. Diluc Ragnvindr is the Uncrowned King of Mondstadt. A mere soldier and poet are nothing but pawns to him.

It's the perfect crime. Diluc still can't believe he hasn't thought about it sooner. It's almost too easy. He only needs to utilize four moves in his plan, truly reminiscent of a Scholar's mate. Sending Childe a forged sparring request 'sent' by Varka, setting up a one-sided meeting where Thoma spies on you and Childe together, manipulating Fixer to expose him, and...Well, there's no need to dwell on that for now. The last step will be the most difficult but Diluc must make sure the third step is a success first.

After all, the uncrowned King is still searching for his Queen, so keep stepping forward.

Please, come back to his side of the chessboard, (Y/n) (L/n).

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the-force-awakens · 1 year

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Two Birds, One Stone

Pairing: poe dameron/f!reader (no pronouns) Rating: explicit Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: smut (18+ only): fingering, oral (m receiving) unprotected piv, alcohol consumption (both parties are sober tho), friends to lovers, one night stand (or is it?) A/N: I have no idea why this concept burrowed into my head the way it did or how I ended up almost writing 5k of it but??? here we are.

You glance around the rec room - Snap and Karé making eyes at each other in the corner, Tallie and Paige already making out at another table - then back at Poe who is staring studiously ahead following his unintentional slip up that he's frustrated in a very particular kind of way, and wraps his lips around the bottle of coruscant cooler he bribed Yolo for.

And it's gotta be the sip you've taken of your drink that makes you blurt, out of the blue, "There's me.”

His entire frame goes carefully rigid, enough so that you almost want to take the words back — almost but not quite. Poe lowers his drink slowly, casting you a skeptical look. "What?”

You shift slightly, giving him a casual shrug. "I said there's me. I'm not under your command, no reason for you to feel guilty. And -” despite the brazen nature of your suggestion, you feel warmth climb up your neck to your face - "it's been a while for me too. Two birds, one stone. Well - one dick, I guess.”

His eyebrows had nearly shot up to his hairline, but they lower now, something shifting in his expression as he studies yours. "You're serious?”

At this, you can't help but feel a little offended and you don't bother disguising that as you reply, "No, I just decided to screw with you about screwing you - yes, I'm being serious.”

He snorts at that, pushes away his bottle and turns in his seat, looking around the room before his gaze lands back on yours, a gentle heat building in his eyes that makes you falter and wonder if you've made a terrible mistake in suggesting this. "You know how many people we're going to hear an 'I told you so' from if they find out?”

You grin, leaning forward and daring to place your hand high on his thigh, enough that Poe's breath audibly hitches. “Do you really care what they have to say if it means getting off tonight?”

"I - uh - nope," he lands on empathically, popping the 'p' as he slides off his bar stool, offering you his hand to help you down off yours. It's sweet and he's done it a million times - but now it makes your heart trip over itself. "You sure about this?”

You are, in the sense that you know you want this. But what you're not so sure about is if it's a good idea, when his sheepish smile and crinkled eyes alone give you butterflies. Knowing his body intimately like you've suggested seems like playing with fire.

"Yeah. You?” Because he hasn't actually said yet, though you know he wouldn't have budged if he hadn't made his mind up already - if it wasn't a yes, he'd still be at the bar.

"Surer than I've ever been," Poe replies with a crooked grin, squeezing your hand slightly and - yeah. This was a really fucking bad idea.

But you also really don't care.

You wonder if Poe can feel you watching him the entire walk back to his quarters. Nothing about the trek back seems significant yet at the same time incredibly surreal: you know where he keeps his flimsiplast blueprints of classic starfighter models hidden away for safe keeping, the name of that really naughty erotic romance novel he secretly loves even though the ending made him cry, you've curled up in his bed watching horror movies while he used you as a human shield and peering at the screen from behind your shoulder (which you found particularly endearing, considering how daring he is in every other facet of life, and also because it warms you from the inside out that he trusts you to protect him).

And now you're going to know what it's like to have him spread out against his mattress, flushed and panting underneath you. The thought sends desire zipping down your back so intense that for the first time since leaving the rec room, you drop your eyes away from Poe - something like guilt surfacing over the thick wave of arousal at the fantasy you've conjured. Is it really wrong to think about it when it's about to be a reality?

You're yanked out of your thoughts by the soft beeps of Poe punching in the code to his room - Leia's birthday - and the pneumatic hiss of the door sliding open. His smile is genuine and earnest as he motions you to go in first.

It's surprisingly clean, cleaner than it'd been the night before last when you'd unceremoniously dropped onto his bed complaining about Laszlo being a dick during your shift (though there was never a time when he wasn't a dick) — so you assume Poe must've found the time and energy to tidy this morning before his patrol, or BB-8 did. Speaking of which -

“Where's Bee?” You ask as Poe steps in after you, the door sliding close behind him. Though you don't turn around, you sense him moving closer - slowly, like he's either trying to work out his next move or if he's not sure when you're supposed to begin.

"He wanted to spend some time with the astromech pool,” Poe answers, giving in and lightly dragging his knuckles down the length of your bare arm, leaving gooseflesh in his wake. "Probably won't be back until later.”

"Lucky,” you breathe, heart rate picking up already because he's never touched you like this before. You were used to being touched by him because Poe was incredibly tactile and affectionate, but those had all been fleeting because despite his touchy nature, Poe didn't linger.

He's lingering now, though, stepping close enough you can nearly feel his chest against your back. He flexes his hand out, lets his palm slide back up as he replies, "Yeah, luck seems to be going around tonight.”

Ordinarily you'd have rolled your eyes - hell, the temptation to do it is so instinct you nearly do, but it's overpowered by how the sincerity of his voice makes you melt.

And melting is really not ideal. Neither is the way your traitorous knees already want to buckle just from this, from his close proximity that's still nowhere near close enough to sate you — either of you, really.

You turn slowly around, breath catching low in your chest as you finally get a glimpse of Poe's face, of the unmasked want darkening his features and his eyes, which unabashedly rake over your frame like he's been waiting for permission to do so for a while.

The thought that maybe he wants you almost as bad as you want him makes you clench your thighs together, and soothes some of the sting of the thought simmering in the back of your head which is that you want more than one night of this.

No, that's not quite it either.

You want this, you want - need - to know what it's like to have him inside you, to hear him moan your name, watch him unravel; you wouldn't take back your offer now and you're sure as hell not going to regret it later, not when Poe is looking down promisingly at you like that.

You want him in every single way you can have a person and it terrifies you because you've never felt like that for anyone — because sex has always just been a bit of fun for you, a way to stop thinking, to feel good.

But it already feels like so much more than that right now. You feel like by inviting yourself into his bed, you've cracked open your ribcage so that all the love you've been hiding can spill out.

"Can I kiss you?” Poe asks, deadly serious as he zeroes in on your mouth, before flicking up to meet your eyes - searching for any sign of hesitance.

"Please.” It comes out breathier and a little more desperate than you meant for, but you don't think you can wait any longer. And it seems like Poe's patience has run out as well, because he surges forward, pulling you flush against him as he cups your face, kisses you hard.

You open your mouth to him, groan when he slides his tongue in, when his blazing hot hand meets bare skin as your shirt lifts up when you go to wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer, your other hand sliding up his stubbled jaw — it prickles against your palm and you moan again, thinking of what it'd feel like against your thighs.

Poe nudges you forward, keeping you steady as he walks you backwards to his bunk - like you don't already have the layout to his room memorized, you're in it more than your own - and you're struck with three simultaneous realizations at once:

Poe Dameron was as good at kissing as he was flying

You probably could have done this without kissing him at all, kept this impersonal, kept some line in the sand of your relationship with him

You were about to have sex with your best friend.

And some-fucking-how the least terrifying on the list was the third one.

You break apart from each other slowly, exchanging a weighted look that's filled to the brim of unsaid things and emotions clawing their way to the surface like a drowning man desperate for air; Poe's cheeks are already flushed and when he shifts closer, you feel his hard length pressing against the seam of his trousers.

Taking a step back from him, you toe off your boots, immediately knocking them aside and out of the way with your ankle as Poe kicks his off. As he shucks his jacket off, you peel your shirt up and over your head — and are immediately rewarded with the sound of Poe inhaling sharply because you didn't wear a bra tonight.

You don't normally, the weight of the straps often giving you migraines, so you usually opt for tank tops underneath: you hadn't worn one tonight, hadn't made an effort to be remotely put together because your plans had involved having a drink with Poe and then crashing for the night after such a long day - which, technically speaking, nothing about that has changed.

You sit down on the edge of the mattress, which is a bad idea because it puts you at eye-level where his trousers are tented. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you're reaching for him, undoing his belt with nimble fingers.

"What are you - oh fuck -” Poe sucks in a sharp breath as you yank down his trousers and underwear in one quick motion, revealing his thick cock. It's curved up, towards his tummy, and already leaking precum.

You pull him closer, fingernails digging probably too harshly into his thighs. You glance up at him under your eyelashes, find him staring at you with dark, frantic eyes as his chest heaves. He's already unraveling and you've barely begun. The thought does very little to help the gathering dampness in your underwear, but it sure motivates you into returning your focus to the task at hand.

You don't immediately go for his dick though - instead you lean in, pressing your nose against the soft skin of his thigh, ghosting your lips across it and you're struck with the exigent need to mark him. Which shouldn't be on the table, it shouldn't. But the thought of leaving behind evidence of tonight on his body, one that he won't be able to ignore, that will remain for a day or two and that he'll have to look at in the shower or when he dresses or (hopefully) when he gets himself off — makes something thrash in self-satisfaction behind your ribcage.

Something that's immediately replaced with a wave of disappointment: you don't have any claim on him, even if you know him better than anyone else in the galaxy. Even if you're a little bit hopelessly in love with him.

So instead of pinching his skin between your teeth, you move further up to his neglected cock and lick a long, slow swipe up the underside of his shaft, which makes Poe gasp roughly, his head tipping back and exposing his throat.

Scratch that. You're completely and utterly gone for your best friend, no ‘little bit’ about it. Which, again, is not ideal so you shove the thought away angrily and take it out on Poe by swallowing him down.

What you can't take in your mouth, you wrap your fist around, jerking him off at the same time that you savor the weight and taste of him on your tongue, every groan and whimper that falls from his lips.

It doesn't feel like it's been long at all when his hips buck harshly into your mouth and you hear him swear, bitten off. He grabs your hair, pulling you off abruptly, his breathing erratic as he releases his grip on you, rubbing your skull apologetically with his thumb. "Not gonna last if you keep that up, maker fuck, you're good at that.”

"Oh, did you underestimate how good I'd be?” You retort, scooting backwards on the bed when Poe gestures for you to, giving him room to crawl in after you.

"No.” It's a surprisingly clipped answer, and there's a weight to it that gives you pause, trying to search his shadowed face for a deeper meaning because for once in his life, Poe isn't saying something.

But before you can ask another question, he's ducking in to kiss you again, slowly as he settles over you, gently pushing until you're supine on your back, his body covering yours as he braces himself on his elbow so as to keep his full weight off you (not that you'd really mind), while letting his hand slide down to your neck, his thumb settling in at the dip of your throat and maker fuck that shouldn't feel so good.

He wedges one thigh between your legs, grinding up and you nearly choke, whining his name against his lips - which has the delightful side effect of making Poe groan, bucking against you before having the audacity to pull his thigh back away from your core.

He tears his mouth away from yours, the hand that was around your throat sliding down your bare torso, stopping to thumb the underside of your nipple which has you arching up into his touch carelessly, eyelids fluttering shut so you miss his brief, pleased smile before he works his hand between your bodies.

Poe pushes aside your underwear, dipping one finger inside you to the knuckle, making you both moan. "Gods, you're wet,” he sounds like he can't believe it, even though you can both hear the slickness as he drags his finger slowly around. "All this just from getting me off, baby?”

The endearment falls off his lips easily and without thought but it makes you clench down around him subconsciously as your mind grapples with the fact that this is actually happening, that his calloused finger is pressing up against your slick walls.

The realization thuds around your brain like an echoing drum, intensifying when he slides another finger in. The stretch is slow, stings a little because it's been a while since anyone's fingers but yours were down there, and Poe's are decidedly thicker.

Longer too, evidently, because he's reaching a place that has sparks appearing behind your eyes, something sharp, full and hot building low in your stomach. You rock into his hand, nodding wordlessly as you try to chase your own high. "All for you," you hear yourself say, high-pitched and barely familiar to your own ears.

“All for - gods,” his voice breaks down into something nonsensical as his fingers slide deeper inside, grinding against your walls and crooking back towards himself in a way that leaves the entire world muffled around you, your mouth dropping when he leans back on his knees, using his other hand to give attention to your neglected clit. "All for me," he murmurs again, incredulous while you whine and squirm, openly admiring your wrecked expression. "You gonna come for me, too?”

The combination of being stuffed full of his fingers, his clever ministrations against your clit and his makerdamned voice is enough to — you're not even sure what happens. You cum but it's nothing like anything that's happened before: instead of crashing over the edge and losing temporary awareness of your body, it's like you've surfaced from the deepest part of the ocean and are sucking in greedy lung-fulls of air, no longer crushed down by the unforgiving current pressure.

Your whole body is trembling when Poe slowly removes his fingers, transfixed at the sight between your legs — before his eyes trail back to his fingers, which gleam in the low light with the thick evidence of your climax. He brings them up to his mouth, sucking away the residue: his eyes roll back like they do when his taste buds go alight with something you've baked together in the kitchens, an appreciative noise rumbling up his chest and going straight to your core as he drops his hand.

He seems wrought with indecision for a moment - you can tell by the way his brow furrows, his tongue darting out to swipe along his bottom lip that he's thinking, considering his options while situated between your thighs.

You're too impatient for that: you breathe out his name, reaching for him and it breaks his reverie. He's back over you in an instant, kissing you again, parts long enough to murmur, "You taste so good.”

His praise makes you groan, and you drag him down to kiss him again, fingernails scraping his scalp - which he seems to like by the way he jerks into you with a gasp, reminding you of just how badly want him inside you.

"Poe, come on -”

"Anyone ever tell you you're impatient?” Poe asks around a grin, but he obeys anyway (which makes your brain light up with interest), and strokes himself roughly, going to line up with your entrance.

You snarf at that. “Yeah, you have - repeatedly. Last I checked you weren't any better.”

He notches the head of his cock against you and your breath stalls, grip tightening in his hair as Poe slowly sinks in another few inches.

"I'm patient about - hnngh - some things,” he says, face pinched as he unexpectedly stops. He's not even halfway in yet and already you feel unbearably full. You can't imagine what it'll be like when he's in all the way. "The important things - those I'm - fuck you're soft and -”

He makes another wordless noise of appreciation, hands gripping your thighs so tightly that you know there will be bruises there later - and, oh, how that makes your stomach corkscrew with desire.

You exhale shakily, slacken your hold on his curls, try to summon the energy to speak, to help him breathe through it — he said it's been awhile since the last time he was with anyone, after all. “What are you patient about? Not the first cup of caf, I can tell you that.”

He huffs a noise that might be a laugh, moving just that much deeper inside of you. Poe's eyes are squinched shut, eyelashes long and dark against the tips of cheekbones. “I - this - been waitin' for this - been -” his sentence fades in a shared synchronized moan between the two of you as he sinks in fully, his cock disappearing inside of you.

If it's possible to be cock drunk instantly, you wonder if you aren't now, because everything feels heady and light as you adjust to the feel of him, his words bouncing around in your head but not quite sticking. You clench around him unintentionally and Poe swears, dropping his head to your shoulder.

Belatedly, you realize he's still rambling — you open your mouth to start to interrupt, tell him he can move now, when he says, "This is so better than I imagined it'd be, you feel so good, you -”

He stops abruptly, going as carefully still as he had in the rec room, this time because he can feel you tense beneath him. Slowly, Poe lifts his head up from your shoulder, dark brown eyes flicking between yours panickedly, "It - I just - I meant -”

You press your finger to his lips, stopping him from going on another spiel and - for good measure - you let your other hand slide around the curve of his back to keep him in place, in case he gets the idea of pulling out of you following his unintentional bombshell.

"It's better than I thought it'd be too,” you tell him softly, trailing your fingertip down his kiss-swollen lips as your heart pounds. You know Poe better than anyone, better than yourself, yet there's still a seed of anxiety sprouting in the back of your mind that you're misunderstanding him, that he did just mean it's better than he thought it would be back at the bar.

You ignore it, forging ahead to confess, "I just wish it was for more than one night.”

Poe pushes up on his elbow in surprise. The sudden movement tips the angle of your hips, so that he pushes in even deeper, the tip of him hitting some sweet spot that has your stomach flipping.

It also means that his face is caught between pleasure and revelation, which is a funny mix but it just softens his countenance to the point that affection swells up your throat: you love him so much that it isn't fair.

"Doesn't have to be if you don't want it to,” Poe says, shyness creeping into his voice. It's rare, hearing that from him - you're so used to his confidence that the absence of it is so stark and surreal you nearly forget how you ended up in this conversation.

"I want every night with you, every morning. I want you. Not just like this - though, this is -” experimentally, you lift yourself up, grinding into him and making you both groan - "good, this is really fucking good. I want…want you. All of you.”

You don't realize you've closed your eyes until Poe taps you lightly on your sternum: when you blink them back open, he's smiling softer than you've ever seen him. “You have me, you've had me for a long time. Maker, I've wanted you so bad -” he laughs, rakes his free hand through his hair - "didn't expect to tell you like this though.”

And you can't help but laugh too, because everything is backwards and completely perfect too. You hitch your leg up around his hip, pressing the heel off your foot against the small of his back, opening yourself up to him. “Somehow I can't imagine it happening any other way…but do you think we could reconvene on laughing at how ridiculous we are later and get back to the fucking now?”

"Yeah, I can do that.” Poe leans back down, grinning broadly as his lips find yours, kissing you long and slow as he finally pulls out, thrusting back in with a lazy grind, letting you feel every vein and ridge of his cock drag against your walls.

"Oh - just like that - more -” you break off as Poe tilts his head, licking into your mouth, tongue slick against yours as he snakes one hand between your bodies to thumb at your clit while he continues his devastating slow pace.

Slow but hard, snapping up into you just like you want, adding just enough force at the apex of each thrust that you see stars, electricity zipping up your spine as the throbbing between your legs crests —

Your thighs tense around Poe as you come, his name a jagged noise on your tongue as you cling to him through the haze, trying to catch your breath even as Poe continues to rut into you, desperate for his own release.

He's well beyond words now, reduced to grunts and the occasional whimper, clutching your knee - rubbing the bump of bone absently with his thumb, even as he chases his own high.

Eager to help him get there, you slide your hands back into his hair like he seemed to like earlier, tugging on his curls as you lean in and knock your mouths together in a messy kiss, trying to meet his thrusts with your own, clenching weakly around him.

It's when you tug on his bottom lip that Poe finally comes, spilling inside of you for what feels simultaneously like lightyears and mere seconds, dropping his head against the curve of your neck as he lets go of your leg so you can straighten it out finally.

He doesn't pull out immediately and you're glad, gladder still when Poe wedges his arms around your back, drawing you closer - kisses your sweaty skin at your collarbone. The kind of sleepy, thoughtless affection you've been dreaming of for years.

Eventually after a while of luxuriating in the honey-like bliss that's enveloped you both as you come down from your respective highs, Poe perches his chin in the valley of your breasts, which makes the juxtaposition of his serious face all the stranger as he studies you. "I love you - is that okay?”

There's a million and one ways you've imagined him saying those three words to you, and a million and one ways you've imagined responding to them.

In this one, you knock your knee against his ribs, grinning crookedly when you reply, “Only if it's okay that I love you too,” before tugging him up to kiss his smiling mouth again - because you can.

And not just tonight. You'll get to kiss him in the morning when you wake up together, still entwined together, and again before his next patrol; you get to have him not for just one night, but for every night, as long as you both want.

You wrap your arms around him, hugging his warm body to your own as sleep begins to pull you both under, his weight a comfortable pressure against you, leaving you utterly content.

This, you decide sleepily, was single handedly the best idea you've ever had.

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron smut #myfic

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alicelufenia · 2 months

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Thinking about my last reblog and how Baldur's Gate 3 character creation kinda fucked with my perception of paladins in the bg3 setting (it's specific version of the Forgotten Realms at least)

Since paladins don't get to select a deity at CC, I got the impression that paladins who's oath was not sworn before any particular god were more common than they really are.

There's technically a "Paladin of X" tag in game for dialogue, but the ONLY way to get it without mods is to also take a level of cleric and select a deity that way.

So when I made Alice as essentially a renegade paladin whose oath was sworn before no one except through her own conviction and fervor to self-actualize (she's Oath of Glory in canon) and that manifested divine power anyway, turns out that's really weird and uncommon in setting where most paladins swear an oath before a deity, and thus presumably are bound to tenets dictated by said deity (or the order of paladins they belong to, whether that reflects the true will of the god or not)

This is, in my defense, NOT how it works in tabletop 5e, where paladins select an oath but are not required to pick a deity (they still can pick one like many characters do, even those with no levels in divine casters). Giving a paladin a deity is more a nod to tradition, but RAW you're free to hold an oath without following a faith, just like you can be any alignment regardless of your oath (except maybe oathbreaker. BG3 even turns that on it's head by making it possible to be 'Good' as an oathbreaker, even restoring your oath, which isn't a thing in tabletop unless it's to repent for breaking it but without going full oathbreaker subclass)

Enter the most prominent paladin in Baldur's Gate 3, Minthara

Don't have any art saved to my phone so enjoy plushthara instead

She originally swore her oath of vengeance while in service to Lolth, to seek out and eliminate the enemies of the faith in Menzoberranzan (essentially part of the Lolthite Inquisition). This, by the way, is why she's so insightful when it comes to the other companions; it was literally her job to get good at reading people to find out what their deal was.

Her crusade against the enemies of Lolth led her and an army of House Baenre soldiers to Moonrise Towers, but instead of putting an end to the Absolute cult, she was captured, tortured for days, her soldiers killed or enthralled, and finally tadpoled and made to turn all that religious ferver and devotion towards serving the Absolute.

For this failure, Lolth abandoned her. As a Lolth-sworn drow (a problematic term basically made up for bg3 but works here) losing Lolth's favor is the most devastating thing possible, and there's almost no chance of going back. After being released from command of the Absolute by the Prism, she was, spiritually, alone for probably the first time in 250+ years of memory. Unless you come from a religious background only to lose faith later in life, you can't imagine what that's like (I don't ftr, but this is how I have come to understand it based on @spiderwarden's analysis)

And yet, despite this severing from a god that works Her way into every facet of Udadrow life, her oath endures. She remains a faithless (really faith-orphaned), but still undeniably spiritual paladin, bound to an oath that, for now, has her carrying out the same objective that sent her out of the Underdark before—destroy the cult of the Absolute, and seize that godlike power from those who control it.

When you rescue Minthara after romancing her in act 1, she says "You came. I prayed that you would, but there are no gods left for me." That raw-as-fuck line also spells out her current relationship to religion; IF a god would have her, she would be devoted. She even calls out to Lolth who, if the Spider Queen were to somehow take her back, she would in a heartbeat. With none answering her, she has no one but her savior, Tav/Durge, and their companions (whom she is now oath-bound to help whether she likes them or not)

And her natural inclination is to channel all that hurt, all that resentment and humiliation at being left with no divinity to know and to be known, into abject RAGE. Though she doesn't show it, I believe she is angrier and meaner NOW than she's ever been in life. That's why she talks about spitting on a shrine to Lolth, why she disapproves of offering tithe to any god at the Stormshore Tabernacle. Why she wants to BECOME a god, to become Absolute.

Hate is love betrayed. And I believe she had a LOT of love for Lolth.

Anyway this started as me musing on the spiritual nature of 5e paladin oaths in bg3, and kinda turned into character analysis for Minthara. Still, as the game's biggest example of a paladin who no longer serves any god but still commands divine powers to ⚔️SMITE Evil⚔️ by her oath, I think it came around in the end.

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artist-issues · 3 months

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What do you think about the Spider-Verse movies, if you've seen them? I love the first one a lot but I've only seen the second one once and, while I think I really liked it too, something about it felt off and I can't quite place it.

I'm glad you phrased this question this way because me too. I totally couldn't place what felt off about Across the Spider-Verse and have been trying to answer the "why" question ever since.

Just to get it out of the way real quick, I thought the first movie was amazing, of course, no surprises. You can tell they really know who the characters are (and I mean, they know what they want their own interpretations of those characters to look like) and that shows in all the emotion and the dialogue. The pacing is perfect. Don't need to say anything about the art style because we all know it's very very good.

I like that Miles has to learn his own version of "with great power comes great responsibility," but in a different way from Peter. Like, with Peter, you get the sense that that lesson is being applied like "if you have the power to do something good, do it."

But it's applied differently with Miles. Not "you have the power to help others, so take responsibility for that." Instead, it's, "you have the power to be something more than you are, so take responsibility for your potential."

Think about it. Uncle Ben dies because Peter didn't stop a bad guy. Something good he could’ve done, but didn’t do.

But Uncle Aaron (in this version, very intentionally) dies because of his own choice to save Miles after using his talents to be a force for evil (kind of showing Miles what “living up to our potential too late” looks like)—and then Miles, unlike Peter, gets to hear his Uncle's last words—which just so happen to be a specific encouragement for Miles to fulfill his potential.

And of course, every other character in the movie is asking Miles if he can be what they expect him to be.

It's not till he hears it from his dad, though, that he believes it. I think all that is great (though not nearly as impactful as Peter Parker, because Peter Parker's application of "responsibility" is more selfless. But both Spider-Men have to think less about their own comfort zones and personal success, and more about others.)

Also, real quick, Peter B. Parker learns the same facet of responsibility as Miles in this movie, too. I mean, they drop him into this story as a Peter Parker who’s already learned his own version of “take responsibility for the good you can do.” Now he needs to learn, as a guy who’s afraid to be a dad, how to take responsibility for his own potential.

I mean, there’s really no such thing as “ready,” in these big life decisions. You just do it, as best you can, and you get ready along the way. Heroics, fatherhood, you name it. Leaps of faith. Applicable to all.

Anyway. I said that was going to be real quick, it wasn't, but whatevs.

On to Across the Spider Verse:

I’ve seen this movie twice. And I think I’d need to see it again to really…get what it’s trying to say. There’s some parts about what I think the Main Point is that I like, and some parts I really don’t. There’s also some parts about the actual “art of storytelling” in it that I like, and some that…I think miss the mark, if I can be that bold.

The movie seems to be saying “be true to who you are.” I hate that message. Because human beings are flawed and every-changing, even though the connotations of the phrase “true to” imply something constant. You can’t be “true” to who you are if who you are is always changing. Even if you want to say “yeah, I’m always changing, so I’ll just be true to whoever I am in the moment,” well, what’s the point of that? Ultimately, your “self” is a terrible thing to point the compass of your life at.

But Miles and Gwen both have to decide that they don’t care what everybody around them tells them to be—AND they have to trust others with their identity. Choosing who they are, and then forcing everyone around them to accept it, (Miles telling his alt.universe mother his identity, declaring himself Spider-Man whether the spider was meant to bite him or not, Gwen remaining Spider-Woman regardless of what it forces her father to do, etc.) is treated like a good thing.

That’s not always great, when it’s contrasted with this idea of “the greater good” or “accepting the grand plan for the sake of the world.” The movie makes the “greater good” look like a bad thing.

…But the movie also equates the negative “greater good” with “let one person die because we can’t save everybody.” So it’s like…yeah. You have a point, Miles. If the “greater good” means you know someone is about to die and you just let it happen—instead of letting that person choose to be the sacrifice knowingly—that seems messed up, morally.

And I like parts of that, because I like the valuing of life, and I like the idea that being a control freak is a bad thing, because it’s prideful, etc. But who’s the control-freak? The kid who thinks he can do it all? Or the outer-dimensional watchdog who’s literally “holding all the strings together?”

And then there’s the cop-out of “Well, maybe none of these questions have answers because it’s only PART ONE!”

Basically, I’ll stop here, and just admit; I haven’t got a handle on why I don’t wholeheartedly like the second movie, either. It’s just not as tight and well-crafted as the first one. Still incredible, don’t get me wrong. Just…something is off.

I’ll talk about other stuff, instead of the Main Point.

I think the pacing is weird. Too much time is given to characters like Pavitr Parker and Hobie (yes, Hobie, I don’t care, he gets too much screen time.) and even The Spot. As much as I love seeing Andrew Garfield, all the cameos take up too much time. The chase scene? Waaay. WAY. Too much time. But that’s the gimmick they leaned in to, so that’s that.

The first movie knew when to make shots that were super artsy few and far between so that they added to a climactic moment. In this movie, just about every shot is doing something new and flashy with the effects, the backgrounds, the stylized icons, all of the above. Only scenes like the ones where Miles and his mom are talking on the fire escape have that “Gorgeous But Normal” vibe. So you feel like you’re just being firehosed with cool artwork, instead of the artwork melting seamlessly into the story and then popping out to enhance impactful moments.

Also, the facial expressions, particularly in the mouth-areas, are all not as impactful as they were in the first movie. The mouth movements aren’t dramatic enough to fit what the voice actors are doing in a lot of important scenes.

Finally, if I had to pick one big beef with the movie, it would be what they did with Peter B. Parker. I mean, just…relegating him to comic relief, entirely. No arc. No emotional depth. And his baby is just like…there. There’s nothing about him that acts like Spider-Man would.

Anyway, I’ll watch it again, I promise, and come back with more organized thoughts. (But that’s sort of the problem. A well-crafted, finely-tuned story usually doesn’t need this much analyzation to make it’s point—usually it’s clear. But there’s always the chance that it’s a me problem—an audience problem—so I’ll watch it again.)

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viridiesa · 7 months

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Hi! readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure, here (it's a side blog, so I can't send asks under the url). The emoji prompt game looks great! I may have to return the favour and use it for inspiration for one of my own games in the future lol.

Can you do something with ⏳(time) for Billy Russo? I'd love to hear your thoughts about how he would prioritise time with his partner vs time with Anvil.

hi hi hi omg omg so sorry for like ghosting this game for however long i am here i'm alive ;-; time is wild and much too quick for my brain holy balls. thank you so much for the idea of a fanfic game again, the inspiration was everything i needed ur such a legend <3 i genuinely loved this one and it threw me through a loop because bae Billy has so many sneaky facets of his character i tried a few different directions before going down this route. my understanding of billy is that he wants to be the best bf/partner possible especially if he thinks he's in love but at the end of the day his need to be the best/most successful wins out. billy's priority is billy and love won't change that.

⏳ ▬ 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐎

time scenario with Billy Russo for my emoji prompt event! you can find the event guidelines here, and my complete masterlist here! // warnings; minorly(?) unhealthy relationship, mild angst !!!

You want to think of Billy as the attentive, loving boyfriend you know he can be. The boyfriend he is. Sometimes.

You know he wants you, know he loves you. But the desire, the need to become everything he was told he couldn’t be too often wins out. He’s the epitome of power and success and he’ll kill die to keep it that way. You’ve watched him work his way up the ranks of the military, stood by his side as he built Anvil up from the ground, and yet you continue to fight the feeling that every step up the ladder is a step further away from you.

He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, the only person you think you’ve ever really loved and yet you haven’t ever really been sure he would say the same. It’s not like you’ve asked but the only reason you haven’t is because you’re terrified you already know the answer.

But he’s there. He returns home every evening and lets you know with an apology if he can’t. He’s gentle when you need it and flirts with you even though he wooed you years ago. He’s punctual and honest and even when he’s frustrated he never takes it out on you. But there’s nothing like missing the man that sleeps beside you each night.

But every time things are looking rougher than ever he makes it up to you. It’s like he has a sixth sense that alerts him when you’re feeling that bit more disheartened by the lack of time the two of you spend together.

Amid an extra busy week for him you get the “Dinner?” text and things feel okay again. Sitting across from him in a nice restaurant in a nice dress with his eyes on you and only you for the rest of the night works wonders towards feeling like a priority. It’s like the two of you have your own little world, as opposed to you being an addition to his.

When you’re walking home, your hand in his, he turns to look at you with a soft smile. “You’re too good to me,” he said, squeezing your hand.

Scoffing, you said, “or just good enough I think.”

“Maybe,” he replied thoughtfully. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You knew he was just saying that. Didn’t hurt to hear though. If you pretended to believe him your heart ached a little less.

The next week he arrived home early every day, sitting with you as you made dinner, or cutting up onions when your eyes started to water. You began to get into a routine of having him there, of feeling like the two of you really did share this life you had. You let yourself get used to him in such quantities. A mistake.

Before you knew it he was kissing you goodbye and promising to be back in two weeks. It was like being winded.

You got the phone calls, every morning, every night, occasionally at lunch. But even though he was at the other end of the line, he was suffocatingly out of reach.

“I miss you, Billy,” you whispered into the phone one night as you lay in bed, “Like really miss you.” His slightly distorted chuckle made you want to cry.

“I know, baby, but I’ll be home before you know it. It’s only two more days.”

“I miss you even when you are here.” It was so quiet, your confession squeaked out into the world.

A desolate silence filled the space around the both of you as you processed the implications of what you’d just said. His lack of response was crushing but what was he supposed to say?

“I’ll see you Friday?” you asked, unable to take it any longer.

“Yeah, Friday. I’ll text you when the plane lands.” There was an unease to his tone.

“Okay.”

When he got back it was the same as it had been and nothing was said about you missing him. You couldn’t quite tell if he held you a little tighter and a little closer than before or if you were just looking for something that wasn’t there.

A month or-so later you woke up sweaty and thirstier than you’d ever been at about one in the afternoon. Everything ached and the trip to the bathroom and back took you a good half hour. When Billy got home he called out to you, concerned by the lack of lights on through your apartment. You could only groan in response.

Seeing you wrapped up in the covers he sucked in a breath. “Jesus, sweetheart. You look like shit.”

“Feel like it too,” you croaked. He left the room and came back with some water. Sitting on the edge of the bed he carefully tipped some into your mouth.

“I’ll call the doctor, I’ll be back in a sec.”

He came back to you asleep again.

You didn’t comprehend the reality of it at first, focusing solely on the fact your darling lover was bringing you soup and water every time you woke up. Pleased only that you were able to stay wrapped up in bed and have your every whim catered to. It wasn’t until a couple of days later when the brain fog cleared and you walked into the kitchen to find him reading a book at the kitchen counter that you realised the significance of it.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” You asked, wrapping your dressing gown around yourself tighter. Billy looked up, smiling at the sight of you.

Shoving the bookmark in and shutting his book, he got up to approach you. “Look at you, up and moving. I take it you’re feeling better?” he said, putting a hand on either side of you to steady you.

“Sorta,” you said, recognizing the dull clamping ache on either side of your head, “but what are you doing here? I thought you had those meetings with the Hospital’s Security Board this week?”

“I did.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Well, they were happy to postpone them at the threat of me spreading whatever nasty bug has got you all dopey. That being said, as happy as I am to see you out of it, how about we get you back into bed?” He gave you a quick peck on the forehead before ushering you back down the hall.

“Billy,” you said, almost scolding him, “why would you do that? Securing that contract is gonna be huge.”

He laughed. “And what, you just wanted me to let you suffer here alone when you could barely form a coherent sentence?”

“Those meetings were important.”

“And you’re not?” That shut you up.

You stared up at him in mild shock as he tucked you back in. “I just think it’s a big risk you’re taking, is all.”

“Not really,” he said, brushing some hair that had been clinging to your forehead behind your ear. “Besides, I have to take care of my girl.” You hadn’t felt that safe in a while.

But before you knew it you were back in the cycle.

The fight had started over him scheduling a meeting on your anniversary and simply assuming you'd happily do something later that evening or the next day.

“I just want to be a priority for once! Is it really too much to ask!”

“Everything I do, I do for us. For you. Alright?” he said, grabbing you firmly by the shoulders. “To give you everything you want.”

“But I just want you.”

“You have me,” he reassured, reaching up to cup your face, stroking your cheek.

The kiss he gave you was painful. He was so gentle about it but it tore into you. It felt like he was trying to prove to you that he was all yours. With his hand cupping your cheek and the other firm on your waist, holding you to him, it would’ve been so easy to let your guard down and believe him. But you’d learnt. You knew the cycle you were locked in wouldn’t just crumble the moment you asked it to.

“And you have me, Billy,” you said, pulling away, “but it doesn't feel like that’s enough for you.”

“Of course it is, of course you are.”

“What about everything else? Will anything ever be enough for you?”

He just stared at you, unreadable dark eyes looking into your soul.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” You dug your fingers into his shirt, grabbing fistfuls of the fabric in a desperate attempt to hold him there, to feel like you had some, any power over him. “Why can’t it be that simple?” You were overwhelmed by the urge to just shake him, force some sense into him.

“Because nothing ever is.” He drew you closer, coaxing you to rest your head on his shoulder as he kissed your temple. “Let me do this for us. I am all yours, I promise.”

if you want to see more check out my event! many thanks for reading and any and all reblogs and comments + feedback are appreciated x

#billy russo x reader #🧸💍🍒; emoji event #billy russo #billy russo fanfic

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gg-selvish · 1 year

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half-baked georgenap analysis re: banter and expressing remorse

im talking to my friend about this and i wanna go into a little bit more about the banter episode and sapnap's constant berating of george for how he treats people because i think i understand his frustration but i also understand why these situations happen and where the dissonance is and distrust stems from

sapnap has known george for a long time and he's one of george's best friends. it's pretty safe to assume he's around the number 2 slot, yeah? dream is first but sapnap is easily top 5 if not number 2 when it comes to george's friendships. they've been close for years, with a lot of quality time together (note: most intimate of which alone) to learn each other and the way they behave in reaction to different things. the issue is that the majority of this learning was online only where they were with friends or one on one and that can really warp one's perception of how a loved one can behave in reaction to negativity

i said this in my last post: george is incredibly multi-facetted and i dared to say multi-faced. there's a different george for every situation he finds himself in because he's quite versatile and adaptable perhaps because he can be a bit of a people pleaser but also because he just doesn't take things too seriously. he goes with the flow and has his set ways of acting but it's constantly changing and shifting depending on the stimulus (people, places, etc) around him

i think sapnap hates this. this is where i think the issue is.

sapnap is kind of stuck. i haven't really watched his solo content as much as i have with george but from my understanding of sapnap he's pretty much the way he seems: kindhearted, polite, excitable, a little shy, a little easy to rile up, but he's always pretty much the same person and vibe. whereas george behaves differently constantly. i don't want to be too repetitive of my other post but this is drawn from how other ccs have spoken about him so vastly: 'george is a sweetheart' vs 'george is a menace' vs 'george is just a guy'

sapnap has a favourite george. the one who talks to him quietly in comfychat about feelings and speaks for him when he's anxious and lets him carry him around at home and goes out with him to get food or just wander around whereever they are because they're together and their quality is really important to him. the george he's with alone who has the volume turned down is a george he feels comfortable with and understands, right?

so then we get sapnap now witnessing george and how he interacts with others, and we're going to focus on karl with the moped accident. something bad happened to someone they both care deeply about, and they, as two very different people, handle things like this differently.

george expresses guilt through expressions and quietly watching to make sure they're okay. he feels the remorse so heavily but he can't articulate how to make it better so he just shows it

but sapnap says sorry and helps people back on their feet. so he sees george react in his normal way and it pisses him off because he would have handled it differently. and the thing is they both care about karl A LOT. so george is drowning in guilt, sapnap is pissed that he's not expressing it 'correctly', and karl is just bleeding on the ground trying to explain to them that he can process george's remorse regardless of the outward expression sapnap needs to process it, and that just makes sapnap even more angry i think.

because george is always a different george, and other people can read through him when he lets them so he doesn't need to use his words because the other ways he expresses it may be more subtle, but people make the effort to meet him halfway and forgive him regardless of the lack of outright apology

but sapnap is always sapnap. his whole life he's stepped up to help and said sorry and proved that he feels guilty with words of affirmation and acts of service, while george just makes faces and gets stuck in his murky head of bad feelings. he just wants it to go away and be happy george again, so he doesn't apologize or dwell on the issue, he wants to move on and make it up to that person with something he's more acquainted with: jokes, smiles, sunshine stuff

maybe the way sapnap sees it is this: he grovels, and george doesn't, and no matter what they're both forgiven in the end. from his perspective he does more than george to earn forgiveness, and this is a fact in his life that frustrates him. i think it warps in his head that george isnt doing enough, instead of doing it differently. so he gets mad and wants george to do the sapnap thing instead of the george thing but that's never gonna happen. because george is george and sapnap is sapnap and as we all know they're incredibly different in all aspects of their personality and self (it's one of the reasons i like smashing them together like barbie dolls so much)

cool blue and burnt orangey-red, two very different colours for two very different people. george is passive in pain and sapnap is assertive and maybe even aggressive in his comfort for whatever the pain is that was caused, it's just a matter of them learning that their feelings are the same and thats why their forgiveness is the same. but it looks so different in progress and i think george is unwilling to change while sapnap is being a little short-sighted. an immovable object vs an unstoppable force.

#txt #this one is more rambly than cohesive but hopefully its still interesting?#thonking

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deadmomjokes · 6 months

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Others have probably said this more eloquently than I, and I know I've griped about related issues in the past, but let me just say again, it is downright criminal how little food manufacturers and retailers care about people with food allergies.

My daughter has EOE. It's not life threatening in an anaphylactic sense, but it does severely limit quality of life for her, and impacts every facet of her existence. We're in the process of identifying her triggers, one of which we know for sure is dairy. The amount of stuff that's unnecessarily made with dairy is awful; it's even worse how much stuff gets casually contaminated, and companies aren't required to label it.

Those little "made in a facility with/that also processes" tags? The "may contain" warnings? Voluntary. Optional. So unless it's made in a dedicated dairy-free facility, it could have traces in it, and we simply wouldn't know unless they decide to be kind.

The worse part is, in our case, we don't always know what food did it. EOE is a delayed reaction. It could have been something from yesterday, or last week. Trying to pin down which foods are safe and which aren't becomes a billion times harder when we can't rely on labeling. Sure it doesn't contain milk or whey or caseinate or butter, but could it have been made in the same processing line? Who knows! The manufacturer didn't bother putting that on the label!

And grocery stores and restaurants aren't much better. Those deli meats are sliced on the same equipment as the block cheeses. The lettuce is right next to the shredded cheese at the taco bar. I watched an employee use the same serving utensils for the ice cream as the dairy free sorbet.

And we're lucky! Her allergy isn't going to kill her outright if she gets contaminated. But it is turning out to be extremely sensitive, so we're struggling. I spent two and a half hours the other day trying to shop for 10 things, because I had to keep researching the different brands' manufacturing processes and ingredient sources. I had to go to three different stores. Again, we're lucky; we live in an area with a pretty big market for vegan and "specialty" foods.

We're facing down the very real possibility of having to also eliminate soy and/or wheat in the near future, and I'm so exhausted just thinking about it. Soy is in everything. Wheat is in everything. Dairy is in everything. To avoid it, you either have to eat exclusively from the produce section and/or pay through the nose for one of about three specialty products that have an extremely limited distribution. Just going fully dairy free alone has almost doubled our grocery bill, and it's not like we were splurging before.

It's just frustrating. And if it's this bad for us, who have the luxury of not needing an epi pen and an emergency plan, I don't even want to imagine how bad it is for people with near-fatal or anaphylactic allergies. People shouldn't have to jump through a billion hoops and pay quadruple price for infinitely fewer options just to not die.

#food tw #food allergies #eoe #ranting #i'm off to the woods to build a neo-hippie agri commune who's in?

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paperstorm · 1 year

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Why do you think Carlos is so convinced that he's a disappointment to his father? Gabriel seemed so happy to see him when they ran into him and TK at the farmer's market. It seems like Carlos has convinced himself for whatever reason that he's not good enough for his father and I can't quite figure out why.

*cracks knuckles* Get ready for an unnecessarily deep dive and a series of truly terrible gifs, kids.

I think that having a not-good-enough complex is a really layered and complicated thing, and it often is the result of a combination of real and perceived things. There have been a lot of people in my life who treated me like I wasn’t good enough, and there are also a lot of people who probably didn’t but I thought they did because I was projecting my own issues onto them. For Carlos I’m sure it’s exactly the same. I, too, fully believed that my parents loved me, and also fully believed I would never be enough for them. Those two thoughts can and often do exist completely in harmony with each other even though they seem contradictory.

We don’t get an enormous amount of backstory into Carlos and his trauma. We get glimpses but this is an ensemble show and they don’t have the time to deep dive into every facet of every character. Here’s what we do know.

Carlos came out to his parents when he was 17, they were shocked, they hugged him, but then never talked about it again. For ten years. That is a long time to never talk about something that’s so pivotal in a person’s life. We never find out exactly why. The show hasn’t (or hasn’t yet) given us Gabriel and Andrea’s reasoning for this. But for Carlos, we can infer from what’s said in canon that he took this to be a sort of ‘hate the sin, love the sinner’ situation.

That his parents still loved him, but didn’t accept his lifestyle. And maybe at first that was true, we don’t know. We just know Carlos clearly thought that he had to stay sort of semi-closeted; not necessarily lie about who he is, but not *act gay*, not talk about it, not bring boys home to meet them. We know that put a ton of strain on their relationship and was a big source of hurt for Carlos, but that his parents meant so much to him that he was willing to do that in order to keep them. Again, we don’t know whether he was right to think that, but we do know that he thought it, so there must have been at least some reasons for that.

We know that Gabriel didn’t want Carlos to become a police officer. Once again we don’t get details on this, we don’t know what that conversation looked like or what Gabriel’s reasons were, but we have the canon fact that Carlos thinks it’s because Gabriel thought he was too soft. That might be a mix of real and perceived, but kids are very perceptive so it wasn’t something Carlos completely made up.

We know that at the end of 2x08 Carlos was genuinely shocked to find out that a) his dad had figured out TK was his boyfriend, and b) he was okay with it. Carlos in 2x04 says “and if that never changes?” in response to TK being willing to pretend they’re just friends, and he says it in such a sincere way that it communicates he genuinely believes it is a possibility that he’s going to have to hide himself forever. He’s not being dramatic, this is a thing Carlos truly believes, so again, there are reasons for that even though the audience doesn't get to know what they are.

We know that Carlos is sensitive. Whether that sensitivity is a strength or a weakness depends on whose eyes you’re seeing it through, but Carlos is incredibly kind and gentle, with a huge heart and past hurts he carries around and a really strong desire to be loved and accepted. If Gabriel is not particularly this kind of person, he might have had a hard time relating to Carlos when he was growing up. When you factor in things like religion, culture (I am not the right person to speak on this but the culture of Latin machismo is a whole thing), and Carlos being either the only child or at the very least the only male child, I don’t have a hard time believing Carlos spent most of his childhood feeling like his dad thought he was too soft. I can easily see that playing out in all kinds of ways over many, many years, even if it’s not something Gabriel ever did on purpose or maliciously.

And then finally we have their adversarial scenes in 2x08 which I think are really clear window into the father/son dynamic between these two.

Carlos is obviously really upset, but Gabriel gives him nothing. He’s doing his job, that’s fair enough, but this is also his child (as far as canon goes, his only child), and he doesn’t do anything to reach out when Carlos is upset and scared and spiralling.

Carlos says at the beginning of the scene that his captain and Gabriel have known each other for 30 years, indicating Carlos not only thinks he’s let his dad down, he thinks he’s embarrassed his dad in front of coworkers and that’s so much worse. Carlos also reveals that “they all” think he got played. He’s being treated by others like a sensitive little baby who isn’t tough enough to do his job, and the man whose approval Carlos needs more than any other human on the planet only serves to reiterate those awful feelings.

There are parts in this scene where Gabriel is sarcastic and almost mocking in the way he deals with what Carlos did.

And then there’s this.

This is the one that kills me the most. Because this is the perfect physical manifestation of Carlos’s claim that his dad thinks he’s too soft. Clearly, in this moment, Carlos isn’t just imagining that. The implication is so loud - Gabriel thinks Carlos is too sensitive and too easily manipulated by emotions to be a good cop. A good cop wouldn’t have been tricked the way he believes Carlos was.

It all feels heavily personal. If Gabriel didn’t know the officer he was questioning, he might not be super warm and fuzzy but there also wouldn’t be this knowing air of like 'sigh. Here we are, once again.' The disappointment just radiates off him (how good is Benito btw but that is a side point) and it seems implied that this is not the first time Gabriel has had to haul his tough Ranger ass in and clean up something that happened because Carlos got his precious feelings hurt.

And then the final blow:

As in, Gabriel thinks Carlos doesn’t. With this hug that doesn’t feel warm or affectionate but more like a mob boss kissing a snitch on the cheek before planting his feet in wet concrete. This scene is so devastating.

Later, when they have suspects and it turns out Carlos was right, he so clearly is once again in need of reassurance and again, he doesn’t get it, which further demonstrates this dynamic between them where Carlos has emotional needs that consistently aren’t being met.

Even calling him Carlitos in this moment feels hurtful, because it feels like he’s still being treated like a little boy. It’s the contextual difference between someone who loves you saying ‘I know, honey’, and someone who is pitying you saying ‘oh, honey …’

So. Tldr, we do have to use a little imagination because we’ve only been provided a skeleton of Carlos’s backstory and we probably are never going to get hours of flashbacks. But there are a LOT of hints sprinkled in, and I think lots of realism in the way it’s portrayed, especially when you factor in culture and consider that Carlos’s feelings of being too soft for his father likely existed well before he knew he was gay, and then his sexuality felt like a bit of a final nail in that coffin. Carlos still aches for his father’s approval and acceptance at 26/27 and has those heartbreaking little moments of 'I did everything you said please love me', but he’s also somewhat resigned to the fact that he doesn’t think he’ll ever get it.

I’m so happy he’s wrong about that.

#anon asks #911 lone star #carlos reyes my beloved #andie's annoying character metas #long post

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botmilf · 6 months

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I was watching the episode Rock Bottom, and it got me thinking. While I like Jack interacting with Megatron in that episode, what if it was Botmom?

It would've had to be Jack for the sake of the series' continuation because Botmom would've taken the opportunity to end Megatron without even a second thought lol. Like, he wouldn't have even had to CONVINCE her like he attempted to with Jack.

Most likely Miko or even any of the other bots would've done the same thing had it been them instead of Jack. But that's why it had to be Jack--because, as it's said a few time throughout the series, he's a lot like Optimus, perhaps even to a fault in this specific scenario depending on who you ask.

But let's venture into this juicy Botmom scenario for funsies anyway!

Yup, she would have drilled through Megatron's bucketass head before he'd even be able to get a sentence out.

Doing so probably drives a rift between her and Optimus later, however. Because we all know how 'wishful thinking' he tends to be when it comes to Megatron. Her quickness to take Megatron's life and complete lack of remorse about it would bother Optimus deeply--despite the fact that, honestly, she has every right to be that way in this situation, and doesn't reflect such coldness in any other facet of her personality. This would inevitably lead to a heated confrontation between Wyatt and Optimus soon after.

And while, yes, they would fight about it and Wyatt would be frustrated with him, she can't bring herself to be truly angry at him, because she's aware of the history between Optimus and Megatron, and knows from the conversations they have on their long, late night drives just how deeply it fucks with Optimus.

(I LOVE these 'what-if' explorations hnnng)

#Botmom #Transformers Asks #maccadam

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dogtoling · 1 year

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An annoying problem with Splatoon's story mode needlessly involving the idols is that it makes writing fanfics difficult. Sure, it can be a story set in the world of Splatoon, but if this is the world of Splatoon, then you'll want characters people can relate to. By recycling the idols as companions over and over, we don't get many new characters. S2 had zero new characters for the story mode, OE had C.Q. Cumber, Tartar, the crab who gives you stuff for completing mem cakes that I can't remember the name to, and to some extent, the idols, and S3 had the idols (and to some extent Mr. Grizz). That's all fine and all if they actually did something, but when they all literally just stand around and do nothing, it doesn't help using them as characters past "Marie, Callie, and Cuttlefish run the Splatoon."

The Agents themselves don't help either. By having every story mode make you an "Agent", it feels like every OC has to be an Agent, and it's a breath of fresh air when someone makes an OC who isn't. The Agents also have next to no personality traits or backstory to speak of. You're saving the world because Cuttlefish put an Agent suit on you and said Go, not because you have a reason to. They have no backstory besides "they moved to Inkopolis / Splatsville recently" and no personality traits past "Agent 3 doesn't talk and is super serious" "Agent 4 doesn't watch TV". Agent 8 at least had some sort of backstory, although pulling an "I have amnesia" on us doesn't help her case. She's an Octo who heard Calamari Inkantation and is now fighting to get out of the Metro. But we don't know any specifics about her life prior to the Metro.

Just my thoughts.

Okay THIS! This is one of the reasons I (and MANY OTHER PEOPLE by the looks of it) are so done with the NSS and the idols as recurring characters. The Splatoon world IS HUGE and the developers clearly have endless, even complex character ideas. The world is so big and so complex and we see none of it because every "story" that we're given in Splatoon deliberately REMOVES YOU FROM THAT WORLD... then spoon feeds you some chosen hero arc with the same zero-personality supporting cast over and over again that's really only a supporting cast if you as the player have a sentimental attachment to the characters (they don't do anything in the game and usually have like 1 personality trait.)

Like, just imagine if the stories in Splatoon had the freedom to be detached from the idols and if they had the freedom to tell smaller, down-to-earth stories that felt much more personal and took place in actual facets of the world. They could craft a colorful cast of characters that actually had purpose in that setting and there's no reason you COULDN'T still make those characters marketable and fan-favorite! There's literally so much you can do with stories within the Splatoon world and somehow all the Splatoon stories completely miss the mark and I don't know how they keep doing it. It almost feels like they're purposefully avoiding fleshing out the world or the characters of the game, lol

And this is something that I find really strange because isn't one of Splatoon's driving themes the freedom of self expression and like, diversity? Then why are we always playing as some character who's void of personality and doing some random crap in an environment that's emptier than the local mall during May 2020. The world is out there, WHY AREN'T WE? Believe it or not, before Octo Expansion's release and Off the Hook becoming super popular, the Splatoon fandom WAS full of independent OCs that were just... guys that live in the Splatoon world, and the world itself was a huge focus because that was like, the THING. But after the game became deliberately character-focused, there was a huge boom where nowadays instead of random OCs with no ties to the canon characters, everyone's OCs essentially ARE the canon characters. So instead of having a colorful cast of people in a wacky world, it's more like we all have our own AU of the same exact things happening differently and it's... well. The world hasn't been the fandom focus for a long-ass time and watching it feels like some kind of cultural death lol. And I can't blame anyone, especially not the newer fans, because the world hasn't even been NINTENDO'S focus and they're the ones who made it.

#mailbox #sorry for all the splatoon story salt lately LOL i have a LOT OF THOUGHTS ON THEM #hopefully some of you find these enjoyable or interesting to read

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softredrobin · 2 years

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ren's redacted hands, redux: sam

Hey y'all! So I'm sure everyone remembers my very first foray into the redacted hands series (the entirety of which can be found here). I realized that after the first two sets, every set had a unique sort of texture to it, and I wanted to give Sam and David the same treatment.

without further ado, a redux by ren:

(you can find the original here!)

See the original for flower meanings, and below the cut for more extended ramblings.

For Sam's pattern, I wanted something with detail, but something delicate to really demonstrate the gentleness that is such a facet of Sam and Darlin's relationship: both of them have been hurt, and they're so unused to gentle touch. Lace is beautiful, takes time and effort to make, and is easy to tear.

Sam and Darlin's relationship means so much to me for reasons that are really too personal to get into in a public tumblr post. I often find myself going back and rewatching Sam's entire playlist on a semi-regular basis. There's so much to their story, to both of these characters, and obviously, the fandom agrees: Darlin and Sam are the third and fourth most popular character tags in the Redacted ASMR fandom tag on Ao3, and Sam/Darlin is the top relationship tag. Erik really said "take this" and then this fandom said "I Am Going To Be So Normal About This".

I did this art without knowing it would become a series, and so both are from Sam's BA. Because of that, there wasn't specific thought put into choosing quotes, rather this art was made for these quotes specifically. Maybe someday everyone will get a round two (properly) and I'll do different ones. For now, I'll treat you to some of my other favorite quotes from our Southern vamp. This list is already going to be... abysmally long I'm really calling myself out here so I'm only including lines said to Darlin directly which might have been turned into pieces.

Vampire Tends to Your Injuries:

"Hey— it's gonna be okay. I got this. I got you. […] It's okay. You're gonna be okay." (4:35)

Your Bond With a Vampire:

"You sound like you're hurting. And not the physical way this time."

"Whatever it is, I'll do what I can. Even if that's just to listen." (0:44)

"I don't wanna see any harm coming to you. Not if there's anything I can do about it." (31:48)

Getting Closer to Your Vampire Mate:

"You're good people, Darlin. I don't want anything to happen to you." (3:41)

"All we can do is make the best of the hand we've got now. We can't go back. All we can do is try to make what's ahead a little less shitty. And show ourselves a little compassion along the way."(18:18)

"Hey. Are you all right? No, I'm not talking about 'will be'. I'm talking right now. Are you all right?" (18:47)

"I got you. Of course I'll stay. You don't have to keep the armor up tonight. The fighting's done. You can just rest. I got you, Darlin." (19:37)

Cuddles and Confessions with Your Vampire Mate

"I'd say we both could use the break. One day to catch our breaths before all those outside problems have to be real again. I can pretend for a day, if you can." (6:15)

"You've got a gentle touch. […] Maybe a bit surprised, yeah. But I also know that the way we throw ourselves at the world doesn't have to reflect the way we tackle everything in life. People aren't simple. We all exist in shades. And gentle touch is a shade of you I'm glad to know. I imagine it's a part of you not everyone gets to see. And in that case, I consider it an honor." (8:33)

"It comes easy with you. A lot of things come easier when it comes to you. And that's a good feeling." (10:15)

"This is your pantry? You know there's supposed to be food in here, right? Do I dare even open that fridge… How are there so many condiments and no actual food?!" (12:16)

"It's been a long time since I cared for another person the way I've come to care for you. And it can be just that. Care. I’m not sitting here hoping or expecting it to be anything more. But I want you to know that. That I care for you very much. My life feels better with you in it. And I’m grateful for that." (16:18)

"We don’t have to know what this is gonna be just yet. That’s okay. For now, I’m just… glad to be near you. We can figure out the rest in time." (18:42)

Warming Up with Your Vampire Mate:

"Knowing they care about you doesn’t just magically make it all work overnight. And it doesn’t make you ungrateful or unworthy of that care for struggling with it sometimes. But the care they feel for you is honest. And it matters. Give it time, Darlin’." (11:26)

All Along:

"Darlin? It is so fucking good to see you. Hold you." (sorry about this one...) (21:55)

Going All The Way With Your Vampire Mate:

"You feel like home, Darlin. And that means more than you know to someone like me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever find home again. But I feel it with you." (22:39)

"I keep these walls high so those feelings can’t get the better of me, but you climbed over them. And you’re in here. I love you, Darlin. Deeply." (24:36)

BA (past YouTube preview, but nothing explicit):

"Are you alright? You're tensing up, I can feel it. Is this okay? I can slow down... Oh Darlin, no. Hold up. Look at me, look at me. Your body is beautiful, just as it is. Hey, hear me when I say that. Because I mean it."

"The way I feel with you, it's like nothing I've ever felt. And that is such a gift. There's no pretense with you, no fear. No walls. I can show you all of me, even the parts that aren't so pretty, and it still feels right. And easy. I feel known, when I'm with you. In a different world that might be scary, but with you, it's not. Because it's you."

"You meet me in the middle. You open yourself up not just to me but to your own feelings and you let me see them and that's an amazing fucking thing."

"Everything with you just feels... safe. And honest. And it's been a long time since it felt like that. I meant it when I said you feel like home. You feel like... sunlight, on an easy day. That warmth and that comfort. Gentle and all around. It's you. And I'm so grateful for that. I love you, Darlin."

Alright, if you got this far, thanks for sticking around... or for scrolling through all that mess. They're broken down by video because I literally ran into the character limit for a single block while making the list. I've been writing this post for literally nearly two hours, so I'm wrapping it up here.

#redacted asmr #redacted sam #redacted darlin #rens redacted hand series #ren reduxes #do i still have an art tag?#ren rambles #sam my beloved #ren rambles a lot in this one tbh...#like.....SO MUCH #i said self call out on this one folks #enjoyyyyy

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