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millersdjarin · 2 years

Text

Some Invisible String

Chapter V: One Single Thread of Gold

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (afab)

Rating: E (18+ only!)

Summary: Ten years after Reader left Joel for reasons he still doesn’t know, they find themselves together again in a town called Jackson. Joel has questions he’s too afraid to ask; and Reader dreads having to give the answers.

Chapter length: 4.2k

Warnings/Tags: injury recovery, light angst, SMUT, crying during sex (but in a happy way), happy ending, unprotected p in v

Chapter Four (Previous) | Series Masterlist | Fic Masterlist

notes: final chapter! thank u for reading, i hope you enjoy ❤️

ps since tlou has new fans from the show (YAY!), just a heads up that this is post TLOU part 1 and following the details of game canon vs tv show canon, so spores for example. so, spoilers ahead for the story ❤️

“See? Told you she wouldn’t believe us.”

“I do,” I find myself saying, blinking at Ellie and Joel in their kitchen like each of them has just grown a second head. “I do believe you. I just…holy shit. You can breathe in spores, and everything?”

“Yup.”

I stare at Ellie with wide-eyes. Her sleeve is rolled up, revealing her bite. I never thought I’d see a healed bite from an infected. “Jesus,” I breathe out. I reach down for her arm, then ask, “Can I?”

Ellie nods and lifts it up to meet me, letting her forearm sit in my hand. I run my finger over the scar, feeling its raised bumps and wrinkles, completely dumfounded by the fact that this is an actual infected bite but it’s not red and angry, threatening to turn its victim at any minute; it’s been there for a year and a half. It’s healed, just as if it was from a dog, or something. Except it is absolutely, without question, the kind of bite that should’ve rendered her a clicker by now.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I let her arm go. “I assume you don’t tell anyone about this?”

Rolling her sleeve back down, Ellie shakes her head. “No. We agreed it’s safer that way. Only a few people know.”

Something warm spreads in my chest. “I’m honoured to be one of them,” I give her a smile, hoping it comes across as genuine as I mean it to. “My lips are sealed. It’s pretty amazing, though, right? Did you get bitten when you were with Joel?”

“I…no. No, it was before that. We actually met because we…”

Gently, Joel continues for her, “We were going to the Fireflies. They thought she was the key to finding a cure, but…it didn’t work out.”

The vaguest hint of a frown works its way onto my face. I study Joel where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, delicious arms folded over his chest, his jaw working away. I’ve never been able to describe what it is about him that I pick up on when he’s lying. All I know is that I know a lie from Joel when I hear one.

He looks at me like he knows that. Like he’s saying Not now.

“Damn,” I say to Ellie, then offer her a smile again, “you got a badass scar, though. Not that you can show anyone it, but still.”

She laughs a little. “I guess so.”

“So you came all the way from Boston to Wyoming together? How the hell did you manage that?”

“A whole lotta luck,” Joel says with a wry smile.

“And teamwork,” Ellie adds.

I laugh. “I’m impressed.”

“You survived on your own, too,” Ellie says. “That’s also pretty badass.”

“It’s very badass,” I agree, but resist a shudder at the bad memories from the last decade that instantly pour into my mind.

“We should get you sitting down,” Joel says, gesturing to my leg. It is starting to throb; we’ve been standing here talking about all this for a while.

I nod and start hobbling to the living room. Joel puts his arm around me to help, and to be honest I probably don’t need it, but I will take any opportunity I can get to be close to him. Our kiss from this morning is still fresh on my skin like it only just ended. I can feel his lips, his breath, his hands; a perfect ghost of him all over me.

“Ellie, why don’t you go get the horses ready, then we’ll head out for a ride? I just gotta talk to Tyler over here before we go.”

My heart leaps in my chest.

Ellie raises an eyebrow. “Who the fuck is Tyler?”

Joel gives me a smirk.

“That’s what he used to call me,” I explain with a nostalgic smile, remembering the first time he called me it. “I’m from Tyler in Texas. When we first met, all we knew about each other was we were both from Texas.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” Ellie laughs. She points her thumb towards the back door and says, “I’ll go get ready to ride. Do you wanna come with us?”

“I should probably get some rest,” I reply. “But thanks.”

Then, when Ellie is gone and out of earshot, I turn to Joel where he stands by the living room window. He’s got one thumb hooked over his belt, the light from the window shining around him, making him into a lovely silhouette. I’d ask him to come closer, to kiss me, to even just hold my hand, but I have a question first.

“So,” I say, leaning back against the sofa, “why’d you lie back there? About the cure?”

Heavily, he sighs. Steps over to me, sits down, rubs his hands over his face.

Then, he tells me.

“And…she doesn’t know,” I clarify after the whole story is out there in the open. Like a mist in the room, lingering, waiting for my reaction.

“She doesn’t know.”

I exhale. His hand is sitting on his knee now, his other running over his beard with his elbow propped on the arm of the couch.

I’m not surprised he did that for Ellie. Rushing through an entire army of Fireflies to save her life. I’m not surprised in the slightest, and I also know why he kept it a secret.

What I am, though, is so fucking in love with him that it hurts my chest; and this only makes it stronger. I reach out and take the hand on his leg, threading our fingers together.

“Do you feel that you did the right thing?” I ask, looking at his side profile.

“There ain’t a doubt in my mind,” he answers without hesitation, then turns to look at me. “I’d do it a thousand times for her.”

A smile tugs at my lips as my chest blooms with affection. I squeeze his hand, trying to come up with words that don’t just sound cheesy, that don’t sound like I’m making fun of him. “Who knew you were so soft?” I ask. Which, okay, is partially teasing. But not entirely.

He chuckles. The smile on his face is so precious to me, and I think I’ve seen it more in the past week I’ve been here than I ever did in our five years together back then. He just looks so light. Still weighed down by the weight of this world, of course, and not without his own grief or fears; but, God, he smiles like he means it. Like he’s not afraid to anymore. Like the fear of the smile ruining everything has lifted from him.

Naturally, I can’t get enough of it.

“I think you did,” he answers my question, sincere.

“Hm, I think the Joel I fell for was a little rougher around the edges,” I smirk, fully teasing now as he turns his body towards me and leans over me, brushing his hand over my cheek.

His eyes locked onto mine, he rasps, “I can still be rough around the edges. If you want me to be.”

With my hand on the back of his neck, I lean in and kiss him. Because he’s so fucking handsome, he’s here, he’s Joel.

There are still thoughts in my head that keep trying to push through; thoughts of doubt, of worry, of fear. I don’t know where this is going, where I’m going, or what I should assume about either of those things.

But with his lips moving against mine, I force the thoughts away, because I’ve waited so long for this feeling and I’m not about to ruin it as soon as it’s started.

“I gotta go,” he says against my lips, rueful. He lifts up his thumb and smoothes it over my bottom lip. “We’ll pick this up later?” He asks, hopefully flicking his eyes between both of mine.

I nod, biting my lip. “Please.”

When Joel gets back, he makes us dinner.

The three of us sit around the dining table in the living room, a candle in the middle of the table, flickering along with the fireplace across the room. It’s been two decades since I had a home-cooked meal like this; sitting at a table, inside a house, safe and warm. With people I know and trust.

Ellie and I talk about movies and music, teasing Joel for his taste in both. We talk until it’s late and Ellie is yawning while Joel tells her that maybe she should get some sleep. She protests, claiming she’s ‘not even tired’, to which Joel responds, “I’ve heard that before.”

But after a while, she gives in to the tiredness so obviously weighing at her, and stands up from the table. “Alright. I’ll see you guys in the morning. Thanks for dinner, Joel.”

“Night, Ellie,” Joel says, watching her as she walks towards the living room. “Sleep well.”

“Night,” I say with a smile. Ellie gives us both a wave, lifting her arm up high without turning back, and then she’s up the stairs and gone.

I look at Joel, and warmth settles in my chest. The light in here is warm, mostly coming from the dim lights in the living room now, along with the candlelight flickering over Joel’s face. It casts highlights and shadows and I want to reach out and touch them with my fingers, with my mouth.

Reaching across to him, I run my fingertips over his knuckles, and he smiles, twisting his hand so he can take hold of mine and squeeze.

“You want some wine?” He asks into the comfortable quiet.

“Love some,” I reply. “Can’t remember the last time I had any. Decent stuff, at least.”

He pours a deep, red wine into two glasses, and when he comes back to the table, he doesn’t sit back on his seat. Instead, he pulls away a chair and turns to me, perching on the edge of the table, his legs at the same level as my shoulders. Then he holds up his glass for me to tap mine against.

I do. “What are we toasting to?” I ask, looking up at him from under my eyelashes, drinking in more than just the wine; his heat, his hard thighs so close to my face, the way he’s looking down at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. Like we’re not living in the end of the world. Like we’re just on a regular date at his house, drinking wine after sunset.

“Think we got a lot to toast to,” he says after taking a sip. With his spare hand, he reaches out, and brushes some pieces of hair back from my face. “This, right here, for one.”

Smiling, I lean into his touch, closing my eyes. My lips press into his palm before he lays it on my cheek. “Agreed.”

His lips spread into a small, contented smile. I put my spare hand on his waist, then slide it around so it’s pressed against his back. We just drink our wine like that, sitting with a hand on each other, existing in one of the only quiet moments we’ve ever had together. It’s just us, right now. It could be that nothing else exists. Just us. Just him, leaning against the table, gazing down at me like I’m something precious he can’t take his eyes off of.

When I’ve finished the last of my wine, I put my glass down on the table, and make use of my newly freed hand to rub it up his thigh. He sighs, swallowing the last of his.

“You wanna go to bed?” I ask, letting my voice run soft and sultry.

“I’d love to,” he says, “just one thing first.”

“Hm?” I hum, pressing my forehead into his thigh, right against the denim of his jeans. His hand slides back into my hair, gently playing with it. I can feel heat rising in my belly, a need to be closer to him just thrumming through my veins.

“Don’t tell Ellie, but I’ve been working on a little somethin’ for her. The shed out back, Tommy and I have made it into her own space just for her. I thought she’d appreciate having a place to call her own.”

I look up at him and smile. “She’ll love that.”

Joel nods. He stares at me for a minute, pondering. “And…since we’re talkin’ about living arrangements…”

Dread shoots through my stomach, piercing through any of that rising arousal that his touch had ignited.

He doesn’t want me to stay.

That has to be it, right? He’s been thinking about it, too, ever since I got here. I don’t blame him; how can he ever trust me again? How can we ever—

“I was wonderin’ if you wanted to move in.”

Oh.

Well, that brought my racing thoughts to a shuddering halt.

He seems to take my silence as apprehension, because suddenly he’s nervous, trying to explain himself, “Only if you want. I know it’s…I know a lot has changed, especially today, and I really was going to offer for you to live here before we…you know.”

I swallow down the lump of emotion that has made itself at home in my throat. I’m just staring up at him, wide-eyed, probably looking like I’m on the edge of tears.

He wants me to stay.

Fucking fuck, he doesn’t just want me to stay in town; he wants me to stay with him.

“You…” I stammer. “You want me to…”

He holds up a hand like he’s trying to calm a situation, one that actually doesn’t need calming, but the look on my face probably suggests otherwise— “Now I know it’s sudden, and if you want to ask Maria for your own place, she’s already suggested some…or…unless you don’t want to stay here at all?” Doubt creeps into his features, a jolt of anxiety I so rarely see.

“No!” I manage to squeak out, tightening my grip on his jeans. It doesn’t seem to clear anything up for him; he just frowns. “I mean, no, I…I don’t want to leave,” I say, finding that I mean it. Why wouldn’t I mean it? Why the fuck would I ever want to leave this place? And now that I have Joel…

Fuck, I have Joel.

There are no words. None that are good enough, big enough, to express the overwhelming feelings that are bubbling up inside me.

Instead of talking, I stand up, lean into him, and kiss him.

He makes a pleasantly surprised noise, his hand staying on the back of my head as he lets my lips press to his, my hand going to mirror his. I open my mouth, feel him sigh when he opens his too, moving our lips together slowly but passionately. Desperately. Because it’s the only way I can think to tell him how I really feel.

Maybe in another life, I’d have said it’s too soon. That we’re rushing into things.

But we live in a world where one of us could die any day. And after everything, after all this time, I don’t want to waste any more time.

If he’ll have me—I’ll have him.

“So is that a yes?” He pulls away for a second and gives a nervous little chuckle. His thumb strokes at my cheekbone, his eyes looking down into mine, glowing in the candlelight.

I nod. “Yes, it’s a yes,” I say. The heat is back in my belly again, feeling his knee pressed up between my legs, his face so close to mine and breath blowing against my mouth. “Yes, it’s a fucking yes, Joel. God, I—” I kiss him again, because I can’t not. “I can’t believe this.”

He laughs into my mouth and kisses me quiet, bringing up his other hand to cradle the other side of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair again like they did this morning. I sigh, unable to resist, and melt at his touch. At his mouth. At him.

“Joel,” I say, breathless, “Joel, will you please take me to bed?”

He laughs again, a breathy chuckle that brushes into my mouth before trailing down my neck along with his lips, pressing closed-mouthed kisses all along my jaw. “Can you make it up the stairs?”

“For this, yes.”

When he pulls back, he’s grinning, showing his teeth and the wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. I dive in and kiss at each line, each mark of his life, everything he’s been through, all his laughs and tears and shouts and smiles—

“Joel,” I find myself whimpering against the corner of his mouth.

His hands, steady on my waist, squeeze me. “You alright?”

Tears are stinging in my eyes and nose. I try to swallow them back, press my nose into his neck. “Take me to bed,” I beg again, this time in just a breathy whisper, “Please.”

His hands are precious and gentle on the back of my head again, cradling me in his warm palms, his fingertips threaded into my hair. I’m sitting on the end of his bed and he’s bending down to kiss me, my head craning up to meet him as best I can. I’d strain to reach him forever if that’s what it took. If the only reprieve from the stretch was his hand on the back of my neck. It would be enough.

He pulls away from my lips for a second and breathes against me. “Goddamn,” he curses.

I stroke his forearms, running my fingers through the hairs there. “Yeah,” I breathe, “yeah.”

“You know how long I’ve wanted this?” He asks.

I didn’t used to. I thought he’d never want this. Want me.

But now…

I nod, and pull him down further, wanting to be closer, closer, closer. “I think I do.”

Carefully he backs me up along the bed, crawling on top of me as I shuffle up towards the pillows. I try to kiss him as we move but it ends up too clumsy and my leg kind of hurts as I’m crawling backwards, and he chuckles at my efforts, settling above me once I’m lying down.

The backs of his fingers trace down my face. He gazes down at me, his eyes glittering in the warm, dim light of his bedroom. I want to dive in, devour him, let him devour me, feel him as close as possible because I’ve wanted it for so fucking long—

But he’s so soft above me, so comforting and familiar and new all at once, and I could just as easily just stare at him like this forever, the look in his eyes, gazing like I’m something he wants. Something he needs.

“Do I have something on my face?” I tease, just a little shakily, not sure what else to say. “You’re staring.”

He shakes his head once. “Sorry. Can’t help it.”

I smile up at him, press my hand to his cheek. “Me, neither.” My other hand moves around to the back of his neck, and I dip it down below the collar of his shirt, feeling at the heat of his back, pushing it down as far as it’ll go. He stifles a moan, letting his eyes flutter closed. “Joel,” I whisper against him, pressing our foreheads together, “how many times do I have to ask you to fuck me?”

His breath hitches, catching in his throat. “You technically haven’t asked me that at all yet, darlin’,” he replies after a beat.

“Well, then, I’m asking you now,” I pull away to meet his eyes again. Lightly, I curl the hand that’s under his shirt, running my fingertips over the small of his back, digging them in just a little. “Please, Joel. Take me. I’m yours. I’m—”

He dives in before I can say anything else, opening his mouth against mine and kissing me with a new, fevered urgency. He holds himself up above me with his palms on either side of my head, and at the feeling of his tongue brushing against mine, my hips instinctively buck up to try and find some friction.

Without moving his mouth from mine, he shifts his legs, gently using his knee to push mine apart and then settling it there between them. Slowly, as he kisses me so quickly and passionately that I only just register what he’s doing, he slides his knee up and presses it against my centre.

It feels fucking incredible. I’m throbbing already, pulsing for him, desperate for more friction. Another instinct, to grind down against his thigh, pushing myself further against him as he kisses me like his life depends on it.

One of his hands moves a little so his fingertips are brushing over my temple, pushing bits of hair away from my face. I let the hand on his cheek slide back into his hair, taking a handful of it and pulling, revelling in the choked moan he lets out against my mouth. The vibration of his voice is intoxicating, and I wonder, not for the first time, how it’d feel against the place that his knee is currently pushed against.

My hand on his back scrapes again, digging my nails in probably a little too hard, but he doesn’t complain; his lips break away from mine with a loud smack, and I’m about to protest, about to pull him back in when they start to messily trail down my jaw in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. I gasp, my mouth falling open. His mouth is so warm, so wet, I can hear him breathing through it with his nose right up at my ear, can feel the heat of his thigh where it’s pressed against me—

“Joel,” I gasp out as his mouth settles at the pulse point on my neck. He starts to suck, and I can feel just enough of his teeth that I know it’s going to make a mark, the suction pulling sparks of pleasure from my neck all down my body.

He hums in approval as I put my other hand on his waist, above his shirt this time, but starting to ruck it up, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans.

“Joel, please…”

“Mm?” He trails his lips, open and hot, back up to the underside of my jaw, and waits there. “What do you need, darlin’?”

“I need…”

Pulling himself away from me, he takes a careful hold of my hands, withdrawing them from both under and over his shirt. He takes them, entwines our fingers, then presses them down against the pillow on either side of my head. “I’ll give you whatever you want,” he promises in a low, husky voice that I have literally dreamed of hearing say that for God knows how long—“just tell me what you need, darlin’, and I’ll do it.”

My mouth suddenly dry, I swallow, gasping for air even without his lips on me. He licks his own, glancing down at my mouth, hungry. “I already told you,” I say, breathless and squeezing his hands, “I need you to fuck me.”

One side of his lovely lips quirk up into a smile. He leans down, kisses me, this time soft and close-mouthed. Then he presses our foreheads together again, and his breath is hot and fast against my face. I want to lean up into him, kiss him again, feel the burn of his beard against my skin, let it mark me up. But before I can, he whispers, “I’ve wanted to hear you say that for too damn long.”

Then his hands are leaving mine, and he leans back, pulling far enough away that I can feel the loss of his body heat. He sits against my thigh, one of his still pressed just not quite hard enough to my middle, and I’m just about to pull him back down again when he takes his hands and starts to unbutton my shirt.

Oh, fuck.

The way he does it so carefully, calloused fingers working expertly on each one, just slow enough that it drives me insane. He watches his fingers, hunger growing in his eyes, licking his lips with every inch of my skin that he exposes.

Then, when all of the buttons are undone, he first meets my eyes for a quick moment with a grin, then takes hold of each side of my open shirt and flings them aside, revealing my bare stomach and bra.

“Oh, darlin’,” he exhales, gazing at that part of me like it’s the most incredible thing he’s ever seen. All I can do is lie there, watching him watch me, feeling as his hands press against my navel, slowly sliding up my ribs, to the curve of my breasts, back down again. “You’re so beautiful.”

Sudden, unexpected emotion bubbles up in my throat.

I never thought any of this would happen. Hell, I thought I was going to die not two weeks ago.

When I left Joel, I thought I’d never see him again. And I thought that, even if I did, he’d not want anything to do with me.

And yet here we are, and he’s not just here, he’s mine, touching me with such care and desire and lust and I, God, I can’t put into words how it feels to have him like this—

“Hey,” his soft voice breaks me from my tumbling thoughts. His eyes leave my torso, and I swear to God I feel the lack of their heat. He meets my gaze instead, a soft frown of concern creasing his forehead. “You alright?”

Frantic, I nod. I need him to know that I’ve never been better. I have literally never, in my life, felt like this. I reach up for him, taking hold of his face and bringing it down to mine, not quite pressing our foreheads together. “Joel,” I whisper. He lifts one of his hands from my stomach, brushes the backs of his fingers down my face. “I’ve literally never been happier.”

He smiles. A beautiful little tilt of his lips that has me feeling just as much heat between my thighs as I do with his touch—

Speaking of, I grind down on him again, and my eyes flutter closed at the sensation. I need more. I need more, but he’s still hovering over me, concerned, and I realise that he’s not just brushing his fingers over my cheeks to touch me, he’s brushing away tears.

Tears.

I’m fucking crying. We’re supposed to be having sex, and I’m fucking crying.

Humiliated, I feel my cheeks flush bright red and immediately rush to wipe away the tears. “Sorry,” I croak out, finding more tears in my throat ready to fall, “God, I’m—I’m sorry, I’m fine, I promise…”

He keeps stroking my face. For a moment he watches me, and I can see in his eyes that he’s not judging me. He still looks a little bit worried, but as he looks between each of my eyes, he asks, soft, “Are you sure?”

And I nod in an instant. “I really am,” God, I can’t believe I’m crying. I’m still crying. “It’s just…” The weight of the last decade—fuck, the last two decades, who are we kidding—feels like it’s weighing me down and lifting all at once, suddenly washing over me in a wave that I can’t find my way up from and I don’t know if I want to.

Joel nods like he understands. Leaning down, he kisses away the newest tears on my cheeks. “It’s a lot,” he says, gentle. “I know. After everything.” The hand that isn’t on my cheek moves from my ribcage, instead taking a hold of my hand again, and putting it on the pillow by my head like before. “I’m here, darlin’. Alright? I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Feeling just a little pathetic, I sniff. “I’m alright,” I promise him. My hand finds purchase on the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

He gazes down at me for another long moment, his free hand stroking at my hair. I close my eyes into the touch, focus on him, his breathing, his body over mine, protecting me. Keeping me there, because it’s the only place I want to be.

“I just love you,” I find myself whispering with my eyes still closed. At the confession, a small shot of dread shoots through my stomach in an instant, and at first, I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. But as the silence stretches on, I have to.

I open one eye first. A part of me expected him to get up and leave.

But I don’t know why. Because instead, he’s just staring down at me, a new softness on his features that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. His lips quirk into a small smile. His eyes are glistening, disbelieving. “I love you,” he breathes out. I feel the words on my skin, sinking into my bones.

Relieved, I close my eyes again. Then I feel him kiss me, soft.

“I love you,” he says again. “I always have. I always will.”

Feeling a fresh wave of tears threaten to fall, I nod and press my nose into his cheek, grasping on to the back of his head like it’s a lifeline. It kind of is. “Can you please be inside me before I embarrass myself by crying again?” I whisper into his ear, not totally unaware of the fact that I sound even more like I’m crying now. Which, I’m not. I don’t want to cry anymore. I’ve cried enough.

His chuckle is breathy and warm against the shell of my ear. “‘Course I can,” he gently nips at my earlobe, then in one smooth movement, he pushes his knee right up against my still very clothed pussy and I let out a cry. Pleasure shoots through me, and the tears subside to make way for a gasp that pulls out of my lips.

It all happens very quickly, and yet very slowly, after that.

One minute, we’re both still clothed and kissing slowly and softly. The next, I’m tugging off his shirt, he’s unhooking my bra, putting his head between my breasts and kissing the centre of my ribcage with an open mouth. I undo his belt clumsily, push his jeans down to his ankles. He kicks them off and climbs back on top of me as soon as he can, helping me out of my own jeans. It takes a bit of working around my bandage, a distant pain still throbbing away over it.

He looks up at me and raises his eyebrows. “You tell me if this starts hurting,” he says, not a suggestion.

I nod. “I will.”

He wastes no time getting back to my lips, one of his hands travelling all-too slowly down my body towards my centre. I ruck my hips up into his touch, and soon his fingers are pressing against my bare skin, right above my clit where I need him.

“Joel,” I say, “touch me. Please.”

He obliges without a word, sliding the tips of his two fingers down through my folds and towards my entrance, gathering wetness. I hear the slick of it, feel it, and he takes it up to my clit before pressing there in earnest.

“You tell me if it don’t feel good,” he murmurs against my lips. “Need this to be good for you.”

Desperate, I nod, clutching his head with both of my hands as I press my hips up into his delicious touch, the circles he’s making around my clit.

His fingers are inside me, then, thumb pressing against the precious bundle of nerves that he seems intent on pushing on.

“God, Joel, that’s just—that’s just right,” I gasp.

He smiles against my mouth and keeps going, slowly pumping two fingers in and out of me, stretching them apart a few times to get me ready. The sheer anticipation of having his cock inside me is enough to have me pulsing, getting wetter and wetter by the minute.

He readies his cock, holding it against my entrance. Looking into my eyes, he smiles, and presses the tenderest of kisses to my lips. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you…” the words fade off into a breathless whisper as he slides inside me, past my folds and right to my core, so hot and warm and wide and, God, fuck, it was so worth the wait—

I cling to him, scratch my nails down his bare back. As he starts to thrust, slow but not hesitant, he attaches his mouth to my shoulder and sucks. With one hand stroking my hair, he brings the other back to my clit, working it in time with his thrusts.

“Jesus…God, you feel so good…” he grunts against my neck.

“Joel,” I plead, “please…harder, faster…I need you…”

My words pull the loveliest of moans from his throat and it’s like he melts beneath them, beneath my breath and my hands, pushing himself further inside me so the head of his cock is reaching as high as it can go, gently pushing against my cervix. Before he starts going any faster, he pauses, panting in my ear, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Joel, I can take it…”

“Your leg…”

“I’ll tell you if it hurts. Joel, please…”

He lets out a shuddering breath.

Then, he does just what I ask him to do.

It’s not painful. But it is a lot.

His dick hits the highest point inside me he can get to, and it’s so sensitive, it feels like he’s fucking up into my belly button, thrusting so hard that it meets resistance at the top of each curve of him inside me—

His finger gets harder against my clit, too. And, fucking hell, if it wasn’t intense before, it’s fucking overwhelming now.

Not-quite-painful pleasure sparks through from deep inside me to every inch of my body.

“Darlin’,” he gasps, opening his mouth against my neck in pleasure, as his pants get more frantic and his thrusts more erratic. It feels so good, and I’m just pinned underneath him, my left knee pressed into his hip, the other leg still flat on the bed.

His thrusts are jolting me, and there’s definitely pain coming from my wound, but it’s absolutely nothing compared to the feeling of him inside me, fucking me into the mattress as I feel the sweat on his skin—“Darlin’, you feel so good, wrapped around me like this…wanted you for so long, so fuckin’ long, thought about this so many times with my hand on me—” he keeps spilling words, filthy words, into the place where my neck meets my shoulder, and I lap it all up. His voice is like sweet, husky syrup to my ears and I hold him there with his words buzzing into my skin, letting them carry me away to a place where it’s just the two of us, just his cock sliding in and out, fucking me just like I always dreamed of it, his finger still rubbing earnest circles over my clit—

It comes over me suddenly, builds up unexpectedly. “Joel! Joel, I’m gonna…”

He kisses the shell of my ear, all hot breath and wet spit, “Do it, baby, come on my cock…come for me, darlin’, I gotcha…”

And I do. Pleasure rises and rises and rises and then drops, a strangled cry finding its way out of my throat before Joel presses his hand over my mouth to swallow the sound. He moans along with me, and when he lifts his head from my neck, the look on his face keeps me riding my orgasm for just that little bit longer. Totally relaxed in pleasure, his eyes fluttering as they struggle to stay open, his mouth hanging open with spit glistening on his lips. He comes, then, inside of me, and it spills down my thighs with each push back in and out.

I stroke the back of his head as the aftershocks from my high milk his pleasure out for as long as they can. I can feel the release of his muscles, the last of his orgasm fading and leaving him flushed and hot and lovely inside me.

I pant against his cheek. He breathes against mine, fast, taking deep breaths. He’s still inside me. I don’t want him to ever not be.

So when he goes to pull out, I twist my leg at his hip so my foot presses into the base of his back, anchoring him there. “Stay,” I say, pleading, “please. Just for a minute.”

Wordless, he nods, and leaves precious little kisses all across my face and neck. Peppers them down my chest as far as he can go with the way I’ve got him pinned in place. I could keep him here forever. Inside me, on top of me, all around me. His hair is wet with sweat, beads of it dripping down from the back of his neck and onto my breasts.

Jesus.

“Joel,” I whisper. It feels like I’m only ever going to be able to say his name again. “That was…Jesus, Joel, that was good.”

Breathy, he chuckles. “Better than good,” he says. Then he pulls away, and I feel the cold nip of the air start to tickle against my skin, the wetness between my thighs getting cooler. Goosebumps raise on my skin, and Joel notices. “Sorry, darlin’, I’m gonna have to pull out now. Get us cleaned up a bit and warm.” He sounds genuinely sorry, stroking my face as if in consolation.

I sigh, but I know he’s right. Nodding, I give him one last, long kiss on his mouth. “Hurry back,” I say when he climbs off of me and heads into the bathroom.

Hearing the gentle slosh of water, I close my eyes, and feel the cool sheets beneath my skin. There’s a mess between my thighs, dripping down onto the sheet. We should probably have put a towel down. But.

I am about to tell Joel as much when he comes back in with a warm, wet washcloth, but then realise he’s brought a towel with him, too. Too little, too late.

“We made a bit of a mess,” I say, letting my head loll towards him on the pillow. He chuckles in the quiet dimness of the room, the low light flickering over his bare skin.

“Nothin’ we can’t clear up,” he replies, settling between my legs again. Carefully, he wipes at my skin with the washcloth, clearing away my own wetness and his release. I sigh, enjoying the warmth, the way he rubs absently at my knee with his spare hand. He cleans himself up next, then tosses the washcloth across the room.

“Scooch,” he says gently, pushing at my hip. “I’ll put a towel down.”

“Joel, I think you’re about a half hour too late with that,” I smirk, but do as he asks so he can lay the towel over the mattress, spreading it as far as he can.

“We can clean the sheets properly in the morning,” he announces, the grabs the comforter from the floor—I don’t even remember when it got there—and carefully brings it up over my body.

I sigh into the cool fabric and feel the mattress dip beneath Joel’s weight. He crawls into bed beside me, and soon his arms are pulling me against his chest.

I settle with my head over his ribcage, my leg hooked over his as he lies on his back. The covers are pulled right up to my neck, and I take a moment to pull the corner over the top of Joel’s chest, only just avoiding my face.

“Joel,” I say, quiet.

“Hm?” He murmurs as his hand absently rubs circles into my shoulder. His eyes are closed, his other hand propped under his head. When I look up at him, he looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him, blissed-out and content. It’s such a beautiful sight that I debate resisting the tiredness in my body and just staying up to watch him like this.

I lift my hand, take hold of his cheek. Turn him to face me, then lean in and kiss him. “I’ve always loved you,” I whisper against his mouth. “I need you to know that.”

His eyes crack open to look into mine. “I always loved you, too,” he strokes at my bottom lip with his thumb. “Now, come on. Let’s get some sleep, alright? Been wantin’ to hold you to sleep for a long time.”

Warmth blooms in my chest. I kiss him again, just once, and snuggle in closer before putting my head back where it was.

And, just like the invisible string that seemed to tie us together all this time, I sit comfortably in this space, letting all the tangles and the knots in my mind unravel. What’s past is past, and we’re here now.

After everything, after the good, the bad, letting this thing between us come back from the dead—

We’re here.

{❤️end❤️}

notes: ah i can't believe it's finished ❤️ thank you SO much for reading and enjoying this fic with me, all your responses have made me so happy and i'm just so glad it's brought some of you joy. i hope you enjoyed the final chapter! i'm considering maybe writing some one-shots set in this universe at some point, or some little drabbles, so keep an eye out for those :)

love u, take care of yourself! ❤️

ps: as always this is post-apocalyptic and a fanfiction but in real life don't forget to always practice safe sex babes!

taglist below

@rosymythologies @lover1307 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @pinkrose1422 @lavenderhhze @abbyhaslongshorts @trippoverrt @emilianamason

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller story #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #my fic #my fic: joel #my fic: joel smut

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padfootagain · 1 year

Text

The Last Chance (III)

Chapter 3 : Loving

Here is the third and last part of my short series for Ben, that I’ve written based on a request for my Comeback Event! The trope requested was ‘wrong time to right time’.

Alright I am referring here to one of Ben’s cover and you can actually find it on youtube, I have checked (and it’s so pretty nzlnfinfeoii); and I’m also using his acoustic video for 11:11 (you know, the one with the piano and the pretty sunset…). Just so you know, you can listen to these on youtube, if you want to.

Also, did I cry at 1am writing this ending? Absolutely, get the tissues ready!

I hope you like this last part! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warning: angst… with a happy ending 😉 And this time, it really is a fluffy ending! Also, mentions of Covid and quarantine.

Summary: you and Ben have been caught in a game of hide and seek for decades now; always loving each other at the wrong time in your lives. Can this finally be the right moment for the two of you?

Word count: 7821

You check the news again, but it’s the same thing everywhere…

Your holidays might get way longer than you intended them to be.

“So, you’re sure you can’t come back?”

Your boss’s voice comes through your phone distorted and more high-pitched than it really is. She sounds worried more than annoyed.

“Yeah, all flights going out of the US are cancelled.”

“Damn… bloody virus… Do you want us to handle anything for you here? A pet? A plant? An annoying parent?”

“No, I’m all good, thank you,” you laugh. “My mom is taking care of my plants already. I’ll be fine. I’ll try to come back as soon as I can, I’m sure the embassy will come up with a plan in the coming weeks.”

“Okay, well… be careful while you’re there. Do you have somewhere to stay? You can’t stay at the hotel for too long.”

“I haven’t found out where I’m going to stay for now, but… I’ll figure something out, don’t worry.”

“Alright. Well… if you could take a few notes for a future article, it would be great. Like ‘our journalist’s experience of Covid from the US’. Or… ‘stuck with the virus in LA.’ Oh that one sounds good…”

You laugh at your boss, promising to keep her updated and to take notes for an article, and you heave a sigh.

You’re stuck here. The new restrictions for Covid mean that you can’t get a flight to London. Not for the next two more weeks, at least.

You have no idea what to do… For now, you can pay for the hotel room, but if this lasts for longer that these two weeks, then you’ll have to find another place to live.

What are you going to do?

Your phone vibrates in your hand, and Ben’s name appear on the screen. You can’t refrain a small smile.

You’ve been friends for years now, ever since he travelled back to LA from London that spring, when you met again in this bookshop. You can’t say that he’s your closest friend, but you keep in touch. You call each other at least once a month, and whenever he comes to see his family, you manage to spend some time together. Besides… he’s still your best friend, in a way. Sure, he’s not the one you talk to the most, but he’s undoubtedly the person you trust the most on this earth. You would be lying if you pretended that you didn’t come to LA for your three-weeks long vacation for him.

You accept the incoming call, a smile on your lips.

“Hi, Ben!”

“Hey! Huh… how are you?”

“I’m fine. You?”

“Good… I was calling you because I saw on the news that all flights towards the UK are cancelled. Is your plane cancelled as well?”

“Yep! New restrictions for Covid, so… I’m stuck here for now.”

“Shit! I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve warned everyone at home, and my boss has decided that my little adventure in LA will make a great article. So, it could be worse, really.”

He chuckles.

“I’m not surprised about your boss, for a reason.”

“Me neither.”

“But… can’t they plan something for people living in the UK to go home?”

“For now, nothing. I’ve contacted the embassy: they’ve announced that it will take at least a couple of weeks to organize something to get us all home.”

“I see. Do you have a place to stay?”

“Well, so far, I can pay for the hotel. If it takes longer than two weeks, it might get tricky, but we’ll see…”

“Don’t be silly!” he interrupts you. “You’re not going to stay at a hotel and pay for a room when I live here.”

“That’s… what I’ve been doing for the past three weeks…”

“Yes, because you said you didn’t want to bother me, and these were your vacations, so I get it that you didn’t want to have me around 24/7,” he interrupts you again, and you can hear in his tone that he’s rolling his eyes. “But now it’s different. What if it takes longer than that? No, you should come over. I have a guest room, you’ll be comfortable, and you won’t empty your bank account because of this mess. Come on, say yes.”

You heave a sigh, but can’t find any argument against him.

“Alright, I’ll come over.”

“Good, I’ll be at your hotel in an hour, I’ll pick you up.”

“I can take the bus…”

“Y/N. Stop it.”

“But…”

“You’re so annoying, always refusing people’s help…”

He’s mumbling, and you can hear that he is annoyed, in a tender way. It makes you smile fondly.

“Alright, I’ll wait for my chauffeur, then.”

“Perfect, see you.”

Ben ends the call and puts down his phone on his piano. You’re coming over…

You’re… you’re staying, actually.

He grabs a paper and a pen and starts a list.

Groceries

Vacuum

Bed

Dinner

Did he forget something? He doesn’t think so.

He’s got to clean up the apartment (that is already spotless), change the sheets of your bed (which are already perfectly clean), he needs to go buy some groceries (even though his fridge is full, but he doesn’t have any of the biscuits you like, and if you’re staying for a while, you’ll probably need some tampons or pads, and he’s seen in your apartment the brand you usually use, so he knows what to get for you), and he needs to buy dinner before picking you up (he tries to think of something fancy but he reckons a pizza will be perfect).

He frowns when his phone buzzes on his piano, and picks it up again to check the text he’s just received.

Monica.

He ignores the message, and crosses his apartment to change the sheets of your bed.

He broke up with her three weeks before, but he doesn’t blame her for being a little clingy, for trying to get him back. But there’s no use.

Three weeks before, that was when you knocked on his front door as a surprise, with a pack of beers and a pizza and his favourite jaffa cakes. That was when you spent the evening laughing, and rambling about your lives, until you both fell asleep while watching some crappy TV. That was when he woke up with you in his arms, cuddled up into his side. That was when he spent over half an hour just… staring at you. Studying your features. Trying to remember every detail about you.

And it was ridiculous because your lives were different, ridiculously so. Still, he wanted to kiss you that morning. He wanted to hold you tight, and to never let go again.

How could he be with Monica after that?

He heaves a sigh at the thought. He shouldn’t be feeling like that. The two of you are friends, and it’s better this way. Still… he’s nervous at the thought of you coming here and staying over.

He heaves another sigh as he throws the sheets in the washing machine. He’s being ridiculous. Absolutely, completely, irrevocably ridiculous.

Still, he double-checks that he’s put an extra blanket on your bed, because he knows how cold you get in the first hours of the morning.

Maybe you’re a little drunk. Maybe… maybe you’re very drunk at this point.

You don’t mind though, Ben has seen you in a worse shape than this. He’s seen you with a stomach flu, he’s seen you drunk enough to throw up for hours, he’s held your hair while you were sick, he’s kissed your burning forehead when you had fever, he’s helped you undress and shower when you were too weak to stand…

You’re not worried about misbehaving, about being silly. Not with him. And especially not now, when he’s slowly moving beyond the state of tipsiness. He’s particularly goofy tonight, being his usual hilarious self, and you love it. Every second of it. His ridiculous funny faces and his weird voices and his stupid jokes. You love everything about it. Your sides are painful after so much laughing, and you can’t remember the last time you were this merry.

It feels good. It feels peaceful and safe. He makes you forget about the pandemic, about you being stuck here instead of being with your family in London; he makes you forget about how worried you are about your parents, and your friends; he makes you forget about your job, about your boss and her stupid article.

As you look at him standing up to get more crisps, you can’t help but let your gaze travel across his frame. You just can’t. He’s too handsome for that, and you are too drunk.

Your gaze travels across his living room as you wait for him, and lingers on his piano. You’re happy he’s finally been learning how to play. You know he’s always wanted to. You’re happy for him. You’re happy about his career, about this life he has built for himself; a life that clearly suits him.

You don’t wait for him to sit down by your side again to speak to him, and you ask the question that’s on the tip of your tongue as soon as you hear him turning off the light of the kitchen.

“Can you play something for me?”

He raises up an eyebrow, looking at you questioningly before putting down the plate of crisps on the coffee table.

“Play? Play what?”

“The piano, of course.”

“Yeah, I got that, thank you,” he rolls his eyes. “I mean… why do you want me to play all of a sudden?”

“Because… I’ve seen you play the drums, I’ve watched you sing, you’ve played the guitar for me too… but never the piano.”

He chuckles, looking at you as if you’re a little mad, but he ends up shrugging anyway.

“If you want to, sure.”

“YES!”

You jump to your feet, almost falling in your inebriated state, and you rush to sit before the piano, scooting over to leave enough space for Ben to sit by your side.

He explodes with laughter at your silly behaviour.

“What can you play?” you ask him, being serious again.

Your words are a little slurred because of the red wine you’ve been drinking during the evening. He finds it charming.

He thinks about what he could play for a moment.

“I’ve been learning some Bowie…”

He’s interrupted by your gasp.

“Oh dear… can you play Space Oddity? I remember… you used to sing this song to me all the time when we were in College. I loved it.”

“You did?”

“Of course! Your voice is beautiful!”

He chuckles, blushing fiercely.

“Alright, I can give it a try. But don’t laugh at my musical skills! I’m still learning the piano.”

“I know nothing about music, I am not the one who is going to criticize you in any way.”

He gives you a tender smile as he takes a seat by your side.

You are so close like this, shoulder against shoulder. His heart is skipping beats, and jumping every time you move against him.

“Alright… give me a second.”

He plays a few notes to get ready, before clearing his throat. He’s blushing hard, and it’s adorable. You rest your head on his shoulder as he starts playing the song.

You close your eyes when he starts singing, his voice deep and soft and warm…

You hope he doesn’t notice too much the way you reach to hold on the aim of his black t-shirt, but you need something to hold onto. It’s a little too overwhelming for you to handle on your own.

You smile, listening closely. And it’s perfect. It always is with him…

When his voice finally dies out in a soft humming, you don’t want it to be over. The last note of the piano wanes, shushed down as it spreads through the room, bumps into the furniture and the walls. You breathe deeply his scent, something of wood and spices, and you love it. It’s warm and welcoming, just like him.

You’re surprised when he leans down to drop a kiss on your head, but you don’t complain. You smile instead.

“So… how bad was it?” he jokes.

“It was beautiful, as usual.”

He chuckles, and you tighten your hold on his t-shirt while a happy smile spreads across your lips.

“Not too disappointed by your private performance? You know these don’t come cheap, right?”

“Hmm… well, I’m sure I’ll repay that debt, one day.”

He kisses your hair again, and you snuggle closer to him, until he reaches out to wrap his arm around you, pulling you to him.

He’s got butterflies in his stomach like he hasn’t felt for years. His heart is pounding and yet he feels at peace like this, holding you close, his lips against your hair, breathing in deeply the smell of cherries from your shampoo.

He hasn’t felt this way in years. In fact… he reckons he hasn’t felt this way since London…

“Why do you not work more on your music?”

You look up at him with a questioning look, but he shrugs.

“I do. I’ve learnt the piano.”

“Yes, but… you’ve always wanted to write songs, to play your own music… why do you not do it? It’s not as if you lacked the talent for it.”

“I don’t think I’m that good,” he chuckles, but you’re having none of it.

“Now, that’s bullshit. And you know it. You’re just scared, don’t hide behind excuses.”

You’ve always been more direct than usual when you’re drunk. He likes it. He needs to hear things like that, every now and then.

“I don’t know, I just… I love acting. I don’t want music to be my main career. But… you’re right, I want to give it more space in my life.”

“Then, give it more space. I mean… we’re stuck here. You can’t work anyway, so… might as well use your free time to do something you’ve always wanted to do.”

His smile grows fonder.

“I love how blunt you are when you’re drunk. It’s annoying. You’re always right.”

“I’m always right when I’m sober too!”

He laughs at you, running a hand through your hair.

“And what should I do then? About music?”

You shrug.

“Write songs.”

“I’ve always done that.”

“Snippets, yes, but… I don’t know. Just… compose. Make your own music.”

“What should I write about?”

“About… whatever you want to express, but can’t say in any other way. Isn’t that what art is supposed to be about? Telling stories and sharing feelings that you can’t just… say out loud? You need the artifice of music, of poetry, of fantasy worlds, of colours… or you can’t let it out at all.”

You give him a smile, as if you had just told him something random about the weather, instead of something that echoes within his soul more than you can ever imagine…

“I really love this stupid freckle under your eye,” you blurt out, your voice almost a whisper.

“Really?” he asks with a teasing smile.

“Hmm… it’s lovely. You’re lovely…”

You heave a sigh.

“My head is spinning a bit.”

“You should go to bed.”

“In a minute…”

He looks at you as your eyes close again, as you settle more comfortably in his arms.

You’re beautiful. You always are but… the thought settles in his mind in a painful way now.

It kills him, really. It kills him the way he still wants you…

“Y/N?”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you okay? Do you want me to help you go to bed?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You’re sure, darling?”

He feels that you’re tensing against him, but you don’t move away. He bites his tongue.

What an idiot… everything was going so well… he had to open his big mouth…

“You can’t call me that anymore,” you tell him, but your voice is not angry, nor annoyed. You’re just presenting a fact.

“I know, sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’m not your darling anymore.”

He hates it, the way your words hurt him. They’re so painful… even if they’re true. Maybe because they are true, actually…

“I know. I’m sorry, don’t be mad…”

“I’m not mad. But… you can’t call me that anymore. You should call your girlfriend that, Monica.”

“We broke up, remember?”

“I know. Did you call her that too?”

But he shakes his head. He’s a little drunk, it’s the only reason why these words are passing the barrier of his lips. He’s blushing profusely, but you can’t see it, your eyes are still closed.

It’s quiet in the apartment, it’s late already. No one outside, no car, nothing. It’s silent, until Ben speaks again.

“No, I didn’t call her that.”

“Why? How did you call her?”

“I don’t know… I didn’t feel like calling her that, that’s all.”

“But it’s your favourite pet name.”

“I know. That’s why it’s still yours.”

You open your eyes, but don’t look at him. You’re a little too scared for that.

“If things were different… if we didn’t live so far apart… do you think we could…”

“I don’t know, Ben,” you interrupt him.

It’s too painful to think about this…

He nods.

“Sometimes… sometimes I really wish things were different between us,” he admits in a shaky whisper. “I wish… stars would finally align for us or something.”

“Me too.”

A sad smile appears on his lips, and he closes his eyes, head thrown back to withhold his tears.

“But?”

“But… our lives are too different. And we can’t let ourselves act the way we did in London, not anymore. We’re friends now, we can’t be anything more than that.”

“Why must our lives never match?” he asks in a whisper. “Why do we keep on drifting apart?”

You look up at him, and he finally meets your eyes once more.

“It’s like your music, Ben. We’re prioritizing stuff. We’re not making enough room for us. It wouldn’t work, not right now…”

“I would make room for you.”

You know he means it, but you shake your head.

“It wouldn’t work. I can’t come to live here.”

“Who said anything about that?”

“You’re not going to move back to London, are you?”

“Things have changed in fourteen years. We have zoom now, and facetime, and we don’t have to pay a fortune for a phone call in a foreign country anymore…”

“Ben… stop it.”

He grows silent again, and you hate how sad he looks.

“There’s no use. We’ve moved on. That’s why we didn’t talk to each other for ten years, so we could get over each other. You have your life, and I have mine, and we’re friends, and that’s enough.”

He nods, forcing a smile to his lips. He is good at hiding how his heart is breaking.

Because you’ve moved on, that’s what you’re saying. You’ve fallen out of love... And he hasn’t.

Now more than ever, it strikes him how much he still loves you. How, if he truly faces his feelings, he has never stopped loving you. Even after your breakup. Even during these ten years you spent as strangers. Even when he loved other women. You were still there, somewhere, in his heart.

But you’ve moved on, and he hasn’t. And it’s breaking his heart, but it’s okay. He’ll manage. He’s been managing for fourteen years.

You look at the clock, rubbing your eyes to chase away your fatigue. You smile.

“11:11! We should make a wish!”

“A wish?”

“Yeah! You’ve never done that? If you look at the clock randomly, and it’s 11:11, you must make a wish.”

He chuckles.

“That’s funny.”

“Alright, close your eyes, make a wish!”

He looks at you as you close your eyes, and he chuckles again before doing the same.

And his wish is for you…

He can hardly wait as he looks for you in the crowd. The airport is busy, full of tourists, families reuniting, friends parting. He’s got a black cap on to avoid being recognized in such a dense crowd. He goes on his tiptoes to try and spot you as travellers flood the hall, pulling their suitcases behind them or pushing their trolley. His heart is beating so fast, he’s excited to see you…

Since the pandemic, you’ve grown much closer as friends. Instead of calling each other every month, you started calling each other once a week, and then every day. Maybe it was because you had lived together for several weeks, it was strange to be completely apart for too long after that.

He isn’t complaining though. He loves it, actually, being close to you again.

He knows it’s not romantic, by any mean. He hasn’t forgotten your words from that night. You’ve moved on. You don’t feel like this anymore, but he does. He hates to admit it, but he does have feelings for you that go well beyond friendship. It’s alright though, he’s not complaining. You’re here, it’s all that matters.

He spots you easily, he always does. No matter if you’re in an empty room or in a crowd, he always finds you easily, as if his eyes are trained to recognize your silhouette. It’s almost a sixth sense.

He grins as you spot him too and wave at him. You look gorgeous, as always.

You rush through the crowd and into his arms, making him laugh as he holds you tightly against him.

“It’s so good to see you!” you squeal in excitement.

“I’m happy to see you too. I’ve missed you.”

You finally walk out of his embrace, locking your elbow with his as you head towards the exit, you pulling your suitcase and Ben carrying your heavy bag. You haven’t walked out of the airport that you’re already chatting merrily, catching up on lost time.

It’s easy. To be around you, to look at you laughing. It’s easy to talk to you, to make you giggle in an adorable way, to get lost in your eyes.

He recognizes the feelings easily, he felt the same sixteen years ago…

“So, what have you planned for my vacations, mister?” you ask, a bright grin glued on your face as you climb in his car and fasten your seatbelt.

“Well, first we’re going to my place to drop all your stuff, as you’ve decided to bring your entire apartment with you,” he playfully answers, teasing you and making you roll your eyes and scoff. “And then… I thought that we could either relax at my place, watch a movie or just talk for a while; or we can go to the beach.”

“I have to admit that after that long flight, relaxing on your very comfortable couch sounds wonderful.”

“A relaxed afternoon it is, then. But tell me everything! You came here for work, what is it all about?”

You smile, but don’t dare answer yet. You don’t want to tell him until you’re certain about this, that it’s all going to work out. You still have an interview scheduled next week. It will define whether or not you get a job here, in LA.

It would mean moving to the US, in this busy town…

…next to him.

But you’re not sure yet. First, you need to nail this interview of yours. Then, you need to talk about it with him. Because you don’t think he feels like that anymore. You do though. It has never really stopped. Despite your boyfriends, despite the distance, despite the years spent completely apart not even on speaking terms… you still feel this way. The same way you felt sixteen years ago.

As you watch him drive through the large roads of LA, with his dark sunglasses, and the happy crinkles at the corners of his eyes showing more than usual because of the way he’s smiling… you wish the two of you could give it a try.

You set your gaze on the cars before you again while Ben starts asking you questions about your flight, your family, your job. You’ll see how all this turns out. For now, you’re here, and that’s enough.

Ben’s been on the phone for a while, and you’re getting worried. You hope it’s nothing too serious, and nothing that will require from him to fly away.

He’ll be busy tonight shooting a music video for his first EP. You’re so proud of him for finally releasing his own songs into the world, and you can’t wait for the album to be released. You wonder if this phone call is linked to this project of his.

You’re a little frustrated with it though, because so far, Ben has always refused to let you listen to any of the songs he’s written for the album. You don’t understand why. You’ve never been anything but supportive of this project, so why hide? Does he not trust you enough?

You give him a smile as you see him entering again the coffee shop where you’ve been drinking some tea and eating a delicious cheesecake. But your smile disappears when you read worry, almost panic even, written all over his face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him as he sits down at your table once more.

He heaves a frustrated sigh.

“I was supposed to film a video tonight, you remember?”

“Of course, for your song.”

“Well, my cameraman… and the whole team, actually… are stuck somewhere in Ohio, and they won’t have time to come here before their next job on a movie. I don’t know how I’m going to film this…”

He runs a hand through his hair, and you reach across the table to hold his fingers in yours in a supportive gesture.

“Don’t you know anyone who could replace them here, in LA?” you ask him, trying to sound optimistic.

“No… No one who’s available, at least. Or not before a couple of months… I mean, if there isn’t any other solution, then I’ll have to wait. But I wanted to get all this filming done before I have to start working on another movie.”

He heaves another sigh, his gaze drifting away to settle on the busy street that hurries forward on the other side of the window.

“This was the acoustic version of the song, right? Like… not the big production one…” you ask him, thinking hard.

“Yeah, it’s just… we just need to get the piano up a hill, and then I perform the song on the piano and the video should be done in only one shot.”

“Do you know already what you want it to look like and where you want to do it?”

“Yes, of course, everything is planned.”

“Then… why can’t we do it?”

He frowns at you.

“What?”

“You and me! I’m not a professional, but didn’t you say that you wanted something personal for these acoustic videos? I can film you while you’re singing.”

“No. I mean… that’s very kind Y/N, but… that’s not a good idea.”

“Why not? I’m not stupid, if you show me how to use your camera, I can do it.”

“I’m not doubting your skills nor your intelligence. I just… look, it’s silly, I’ll just wait until I have another opportunity, that’s all.”

But he can see that you’re annoyed now. He doesn’t really get why though. He’s the one with a problem, not you.

“Never mind all that. What were we talking about again?”

But you lean forward, your forearms resting on the table, and by the look on your face, Ben already knows he’s not going to like the question you’re about to ask.

“Ben… can I ask you something? And I would really appreciate it if you gave me an earnest answer.”

“Of course. What is it?”

“Do you think us shooting this video together is a bad idea because you want a professional to do it, or because you don’t want me to listen to your songs?”

You see him clenching his jaw as he looks down at his cup of tea, and you don’t need to hear his answer.

“Why do you not want me to listen to your songs? I’m sure they’re amazing.”

But he shakes his head.

“I’m not ready for you to listen to them.”

“Why not? It’s just me…”

“I know, but… They’re… very personal and I… I don’t want you to listen to them for now. I’m not ready.”

You nod your head, clearly disappointed, but he’s grateful that you don’t insist.

“I’m sorry, but I have a few phone calls to make. Do you mind if we leave?” he asks after a rather long silence; one that is not as comfortable as it usually feels whenever it settles between the two of you.

“No, of course not. Let’s go.”

He apologizes again for hurrying home, and you don’t have the heart to insist on paying your share when he wants to invite you. He feels bad enough already, you reckon.

The drive to his flat is quiet, you can practically hear Ben’s brain working at full speed as he looks for a solution. When you arrive, you leave him alone and settle in the guest room with a book. He’s got work to do, it’s alright. You hesitate for a moment to go outside for a walk on your own, but you reckon that he might feel terrible if no one can help him, and he might need you here. So, instead, you stay inside and wait.

It's already the middle of the afternoon when Ben knocks on your door, and you invite him in.

“So? Did you find anyone to help?”

He shakes his head and sits down on the edge of your bed. You put away your book and sit up, cross-legged, next to him. He seems so disappointed, it breaks your hurt.

You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“So… what are you going to do?”

“Well… no one is available before at least three months, and I’ll be working again in three months, which means that everything will be way more complicated. I don’t know… I just want to get all this over with while I have time to do this properly, without thinking about a role.”

“Of course, I get that.”

“So… I reckon I don’t really have a choice.”

He turns to you, and his voice is surprisingly shy when he speaks again.

“Do you mind if we do this together, then?”

You offer him a bright smile.

“Of course not! I would be happy to help. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

He wants to tell you then, why he hasn’t let you listen to his album yet. He wants to tell you everything, what his songs are truly about but… he doesn’t have the strength to do it. Maybe… maybe you won’t even notice if you listen to the song. There aren’t that many details… maybe you won’t understand…

So, he says nothing, merely gives you a smile, and opens his arms to give you hug.

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re the best.”

You grin, rushing into his embrace; and as he closes his arms upon you, he holds you a little too tight.

You’re tired after carrying all this equipment all the way up this hill, but you regret nothing. The spot Ben has chosen for this video is breathtaking. You admire it while he finishes to set everything up behind you.

The sun has started to set, sinking behind the hill on the other side of the valley. LA stretches at your feet while the sky begins to be painted in gold. It’s quiet, surprisingly so. No cars, no voices, no shouts. Just the wind and the random interruption of a bird chirping.

“This place is amazing, Ben,” you grin, your eyes still lost on the beautiful view.

You hear him chuckling behind you.

“Yeah, it’s one of my favourite spots. It’s quiet up here. And the view isn’t too bad.”

Eventually, you shake yourself out of your reverie, and turn towards Ben again.

“So, what do you want me to do?”

He explains to you the shots he wants, where you should walk to get them. He shows you how to use his very expensive camera, and after a few tries, you know enough to shoot the short video. You help Ben setting up his computer and his microphone, using a pile of your own books so the microphone is positioned right before Ben’s lips. He tries a few times to record his voice, then the piano, and seems quickly satisfied.

He's nervous, you can tell.

“I reckon we can get several takes before it’s too dark to film. What do you think?” you ask him, trying to reassure him.

He nods, giving you a warm smile.

“Yeah… I’d say we have about forty minutes.”

“So, you can fuck up ten times at least before we give up for tonight. You’ll be just fine.”

He laughs at that, and he’s grateful for it. He knows you’re trying to help him calm down. You’re simply not aware that he’s not stressed about the sun setting too fast at all, or about messing up the song. He’s worried about the fact that you’re going to listen to him…

You get ready, and give him a thumbs up as well as a bright grin.

“Whenever you’re ready, superstar!”

He chuckles at your teasing, shakes his head a little. He takes a couple of deep breaths, plays a few notes to get ready. But then, he starts recording, and playing…

He doesn’t look at you as his fingers travel across the piano, as he starts to sing in a quiet, gentle tone. Voice deep and warm and reassuring, as always. He tries to ignore your presence, to forget that you’re standing there, a few feet away, that you’re listening to him sing this song about… about you…

But he can’t. How could he? How could he act as if the woman he wrote this song about is not standing right in front of him, listening to the deepest secrets of his heart?

But then again, maybe it’s for the better. Because now more than ever, after spending a whole week living with you, it hurts too much to be merely your friend. He doesn’t want to be your friend. He reckons that there wasn’t a minute in the nineteen years you’ve known each other when he wanted to be anything but your boyfriend.

But then again, life works almost haphazardly sometimes, and if he believed in signs, then perhaps he could have believed that you, being there to listen to his song now, was a sign. A sign that things have to change, and he hopes they will change for the better…

His voice is shakier than he wants it to be. He can hear, after the second line, that he’s going to struggle to go through the whole song without being too emotional. He’s not even certain he’ll be able to sing the complete song. But he doesn’t care. Now, that he has started to confess it all, he needs to let it all out.

Meanwhile, you start moving with the camera, and at first, you’re focused on your task, trying not to shake too much. But then… you’re also listening to the song. And if a smile appears on your features at the beginning, it quickly fades. Your movements slow down as Ben sings the first verse…

Because… because it sounds very strange… The story he tells, it’s strangely familiar.

Is it late?

Eleven minutes past eleven

It’s both always and never our time

Nothing to regret

The rest just might be heaven

You’re always but never really mine

You’re the one who told him about this silly wish to make at 11:11. And your paths keep on crossing but you’re never really together and…

But no, no… it’s just your head and your silly heart imagining things. No, it’s nothing like that. He must be talking about somebody else, or maybe he’s not even talking about anyone at all. Maybe he just made up a love song from nothing.

But then… why does he seem so upset as he keeps on singing, his voice trembling through the chorus, his eyes still closed.

You stopped my heart from fifty feet

It pumped and sang and skipped a beat

And when I sleep my soul you’ll keep

I wish for you to be happy

I wish for you to be free

I wish for you to be fearless

That’s wishes one, two and three

But then, if this is not about you then… why these echoes to your past? You recognize the words he spoke to you so long ago; it’s easy for you, they are engraved into your brain at this point. How could you ever forget them? He’s putting them elegantly, into verses, but these are the same words he told you that rainy afternoon in your dorm, and in London too…

You’ve stopped moving altogether, and you stare at him now, forgetting all about your duties with this stupid camera…

And I won’t wish to be yours

Or for you to be mine

But I’ll wish them all for you

Every time

He feels your stare upon him, and he knows that you’re standing still now, frozen. He can see you, even with his eyes down. He has lifted his eyelids, he looks at his hands, or at least he tries to, because he wants so badly to look at you… But he resists. If he does, he won’t be able to sing the end of the song, and he knows it.

Is it warm?

Clouds but the sun’s in the sky

Rises over mine but sets with you

When it’s dark I’ll try not to ask you why

Or what you’ll do

You stopped my heart from fifty feet

It pumped and sang and skipped a beat

And when I sleep my soul you’ll keep

I wish for you to be happy

I wish for you to be free

I wish for you to be fearless

That’s wishes one, two and three

And I won’t wish to be yours

Or for you to be mine

But I’ll wish them all for you

Every time

He can’t take it, the way you stare at him. At last, he looks up. And his hands freeze on the keyboard, right in between two notes, and his voice disappears from his tightening throat.

You’re staring so intensely at him…

You know. You’ve understood everything. It’s too late now…

… damn, he’s fucked up again.

But slowly, very slowly… you start shaking your head.

“Don’t stop,” you let out a shaky breath, he barely hears you at all. “Please, don’t stop. Keep going.”

“Y/N…”

“Please, finish the song. Please, Ben…”

He nods, struggling to swallow back the lump in his throat. He takes a deep breath, plays again the last notes of the chorus to get some momentum, and he resumes his singing, his voice a little hoarse as he tries not to cry.

If one day the stars align

You feel ready to be mine

I hope you’ll find the strength to come

With trumpet, pipes and drum

You stopped my heart from fifty feet

It pumped and sang and skipped a beat

And when I sleep my soul you’ll keep

He can’t look away anymore. He just can’t. He struggles a little to play when he’s so emotional, and staring at you, and busy being terrified of what your reaction will be once he has stopped singing… But it’s alright. His voice is rough with emotion, a little shaky, but you don’t seem to mind. You just stare at him, with more and more tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t let any teardrop fall. Instead, you’re suspended to his words.

And his voice finishes to break with the next two verses…

And I won’t wish to be yours

Or for you to be mine

He gives you a smile, filled with tenderness and sadness and withheld pain. It takes him a couple of seconds to be able to let out any sound, but you’re patient, and you wait for him to finish his song.

But I’ll wish them all for you

Every time

Yes, I’ll wish them all for you

Every time

Oh, I’ll wish them all for you

Every time

Silence. After his piano and his voice filling up the air, it feels strange to hear nothing at all. Solely distant sounds of wind and birds.

And you don’t say a thing. Instead, you put the camera down right next to the piano, and you walk around the instrument to sit next to Ben. He doesn’t look at you anymore, he doesn’t move. He can barely breathe at all. He’s terrified that if he does so, you’ll run away and disappear for good.

So, he tries to remain motionless instead. Maybe then, even time could stop…

“Your song… it’s about us, isn’t it?” you ask him, your voice a little hoarse but surprisingly steady considering how your heart is pounding, how much your throat has tightened, how hard it is to withhold your tears… “It’s about me, right?”

He doesn’t have the strength to speak, so he nods instead. He looks almost guilty.

“I see… That’s why you didn’t want me to listen to it.”

It’s more of a statement than a question, but Ben nods anyway.

He clears his throat, tries to find his voice back.

“You… are you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“Because… I wrote a song about you and… because… because it says pretty clearly how I feel about you. And I’m not sure you like the way I feel about you.”

Finally, he turns to you. His eyes are completely black, his face bathed in golden light. The small pendant that falls on his chest catches some sunlight as he moves and it flashes like gold in the summer sun.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“For what?”

“Everything, really. But especially because… Now, I don’t reckon we’ll be able to remain friends.”

“No… no, I guess you’re right. We can’t stay friends.”

He nods, and even if he quickly brushes it away, you see the tear that starts rolling down his cheek. He sniffs, looking away again.

“Right…”

“I’m moving to LA.”

He stares at you again, his lips parting in shock. You just… you’ve just blurted that out, out of the blue and… What…?

“What?”

“I… I had an interview yesterday for a job in a small newspaper in California. For a very small town, about half an hour away from LA. I got the job. I got the answer this morning and… I knew you were stressed because of this music video, so I wanted to wait this weekend to tell you. But I… I’m moving to LA. I start next month.”

“But… what about London? What about your job there, and your family, and your friends, you… you were happy there… I thought it was what you wanted.”

“It was. For a long time, it really was. But then again… do you remember the conversation we had that night, when I was drunk? I mean… of course you do, you talk about it in your song… Anyway, that night, I told you we had to prioritize things that are the most important to us. And I’m tired of not prioritizing you. So…”

“This is more than prioritizing though…”

“No, it isn’t. When we were younger, I chose my career instead of you. And I can’t say that I regret it because I had no idea about who I was and what I wanted to do with my life. And I needed to go to Dublin, and to move to London again… I needed that. But I’m not twenty-three anymore. And I’ve figured things out. And you’re not twenty-four anymore with too many dreams and a career to build, you already have one now. So… maybe… maybe we could force our lives not to drift apart this time. What do you say?”

But instead of answering, he merely crashes his lips to yours, hands flying up to hold your face, and you melt against him as he kisses you with all the love and passion he’s been holding back for years. You hold him tight when you finally detach your lips from his.

“I love you,” he breathes against your ear. “I’ve always loved you. Even when we were apart, even during this decade when I had no news… I never got over you. It was always you. Ever since that afternoon at the cinema watching my favourite rom-com when you let me kiss you in the dark… it has always been you.”

You can’t stop your tears anymore, but it’s okay. They’re happy ones.

“I love you too,” you whisper against the skin of his neck. “I’ve never stopped loving you either.”

“I’ll make it work. I promise, I’ll make it work.”

“Well, don’t expect me to do all the work!” you joke despite your voice being wet with tears. “I expect daily videocalls whenever you’re away. And an awful lot of cuddles when you come back. And you’ll pay for my tickets so I can come see you, because journalist really doesn’t pay that well when you work for small, unknown newspapers…”

He laughs, tightening his hold on you, if it is even possible to do so.

“Deal. That’s a deal.”

“I don’t want to hide this…”

“You’ll hate it if you’re pulled in the public eye with me.”

“I don’t care. I didn’t wait sixteen bloody years to be your secret lover. Fuck off!”

You both laugh, and he nods his head.

“Alright, whatever you want. As long as you can be mine, we’ll do whatever you want.”

“I thought you wouldn’t wish to be mine or for me to be yours…” you tease, making him chuckle.

“Well… that was before I knew you were still madly in love with me.”

“Madly? Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“You’re moving to the other side of the world to be with me, I reckon that’s something only someone madly in love would do.”

“You might have a point.”

“I won’t let you go this time. I promise. I won’t lose you again, darling.”

You pull away just enough to look at him.

“Good. Cause I don’t want to leave ever again, love.”

You exchange a grin, before exchanging kisses…

And when you finally stand up and pack your things, the sun is long gone, and it’s almost fully night already. You’ll have to come back tomorrow to film this music video of his, but you don’t care.

You’ve got the rest of your lives left, after all…

#ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes series #ben barnes fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #series

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error-dream-was-found · 1 year

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ooooh okay, for the fic writer thing! 1, 4, 14, 16, 33, 40 and uhhh 56? bonus of 39 (if you want)

Thank you for asking <3

1. "Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?"

I prefer multichaptered fics ... my last attempt to write one-shot turned into 160 000 words long fic (still updating btw)

4. "Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?"

Everywhere ... seriously, it´s a mix of shower thoughts, 3 Am ideas and random things I thought of while reading another fics. For example the 'enderchest torture' idea hit me while I was reading some fic where to get Dream out of Pandora they hide him in an enderchest and my brain just went "wait for how long was he there? What was it like for him? Would it even be possible?" And I moved from there. That one is one of my less developed ideas but it´s a good example of my thought process ig. Or fics like 'monsters don´t deserve hugs but you aren´t a monster' came from that single sentence. I thought about it while reading some fic where Dream went "I´m a monster I don´t deserve nice things and it spiraled from there.

14. "how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?"

It depends on my mood ig? If that makes sense. Sometimes I really get into it and even make myself cry. But sometimes I'll ruin these characters lives with zero care. I certainly draw from personal experience as much as I can. Although I don't really have much personal experience with the stuff I'm writing about so *shrugs*

16. "How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?"

*counts on fingers* ehm ... well if I count in the half-baked ideas and all that ... I think I could have roughly 15-20? (I wanna talk about them T-T)

You already know about the superhero one (although I have new trauma for blob!), so I'll say a bit about a different idea one of my dremon fics perhaps? I don't have a name yet but the mail story line pretty much goes like this: Dream is a demon - cruel creature feeding off humans emotions, mostly happiness. Demons in common are manipulative, heartless and selfish beings that prey on humans.

The rest of the characters are mostly demon hunters (not sure on all members yet but Sapnap, George, Sam and Quackity are certainly there).

The plot basically begins when the hunters catch Dream. He's not very strong and thus not considered a serious threat. Instead of killing him immediately they decide to experiment on him (to learn more about demons), the problem is - Dream is the sweetest person ever. He's nothing like the other demons they've met and well it's kinda hard to dissect someone alive while they rant about the adorable cat that lives in the backstreet behind the convenience store ... (sry for ranting)

33. "Do you want to be published some day?"

Yes but unfortunately I'm not too good with creating original stories and my writing style isn't really good so .... maybe one day ... (until then the closest I'll get is printing my own stories ... that is also a way to practice book binding lol)

40. "If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?"

Honestly? I have no idea. There're just so many scenes I love and I'd absolutely love to see drawn. But if anyone ever were to make a fanart of my fic I'd be over the roof about it, I wouldn't care what scene it is I'd just be so damn happy that they liked the story enough to go through the trouble of creating the art. And any scene they'd pick would be perfect because then I'd know which scene they liked the most.

56. "What's something about your writing that you pride yourself on?"

... I'll be honest I don't think my writing is anything special, there are a few scenes I'm happy with but overall .... *shrugs*

But if there's something I'm really proud of it's probably the fact that I was able to write a story that many people enjoyed. When I started writing 2 years ago I never thought I'll have this many people not only reading my story but also liking it. Sure, it's not that much but it's a lot more than I ever expected! It blows my mind because I know that there are much better fic out there, yet people still decided to read something I wrote. It´s really crazy

39. "Share a snippet from a WIP"

daamn this is getting too long ... Imma sharing a snipped anyway! But what snipped .... I'm feeling like doing an villain arc today so I´m gonna post something from a story I haven't published yet and probably won´t be able to publish for at least few months:

Note: this story is still sitting in my drafts so the grammar check wasn't done yet, therefore there are extra grammar errors which I apologize for

He tripped over something. The tiny sharp rocks covering the forest floor dug painfully into his palms as he tried to slow down his fall and the pain shooting from his scraped knees pushed a new tears into his eyes. He just wanted to stay there on the floor and cry but hte monsters were getting closer. He can´t let them get him, he can´t! Desperately trying to wipe the tears out of his eyes, Dream stood up, only taking a second to glance back at the thing he tripped over. It looked like a fence … looking forward again, the blonde saw a tall dilapidated building.

It was looming over him in the dead of night like something right out of a scary story his mom would tell him on these good nights when instead of yelling at him she'd put him to bed and if he was lucky she´d tell him a story. He wanted to ran away from the half collapsed building but as scary as it was the monsters were scarier. That building would provide him at least some cover and he needed that desperately. He won´t be able to run all night and the air was already heavily filled with the smell of rain. It was just a question of time till the storm begins. Encouraged by the hisses and groans from behind Dream ran inside.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to darkness that was even more prominent now. Once he did he realized he was in what seems to be an abandoned Prime church. He looked around nervously. The place gave him chills. It was clear that no one worshiped Prime here for years, maybe even decades and the place now had a sinister atmosphere to it. As everything holy did when it was forgotten for too long. The cracked, faded paintings of Prime´s angels looked down on him, it felt as if they were watching him, following his every mood. The wooden floors cracked under his weight and from the altar a soft clinging of chains could be heard as the incense swung in the light breeze.

But the worst of all was the terrible feeling that he's not alone. That there´s something watching him. Someone. No, no he was just being dumb, this place is clearly abandoned. Maybe it's just an animal that settled here. Or these dumb angles. Yeah it must be the angles. It's dark and he's tired, he's just imagining their eyes moving to follow him.

The first drops of rain hit the ground and a wind whistles through the abandoned church. Goosebumps raised to the surface and Dream shivered. It's just cold, it's just cold, it's just cold. The rain got heavier in just a few minutes. A lightning flashed through the sky and a thunder shook the whole building, just as a voice from somewhere in the shadows spoke up.

“Won't you look at that … a human. What a treat”

The question of who's there froze on Dream’s tongue as another lighting illuminated the inside of the church and the body less shadow floating in front of him. It had a distinct shape of human but none of its features could be seen other than two glowing eyes. It dived for him.

Dream screamed.

- story name: Sweet Little Nightmares (I'm more than willing to talk about this story :)

Sakra nechala som sa uniesť. Dúfám, že som ťa neunudila k smrti a gratulujem ak si sa dostala až sem ;)

#dreblr #ask game #ask answered #@llitchilitchi #please give me more ask XD

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miraakulous-cloud-district · 1 year

Text

Last line tag! But I kind of turned it into a wip Wednesday because I shared more than a line

I was tagged by @sylvienerevarine and @blossom-adventures, thank you very much 💖💖💖 My favourite past time activity is to tease future WYGTYA chapters, so have some chapter 11 banter!

“If we’re out of here…” Rumarin says, making everyone give him looks. “What? We’re heading into an ancient dungeon! I’m not expecting the draugr here to greet us warmly and with open arms!”

“Hehehehe, draugr hugs!” Inigo laughs to himself.

“I’d love to see friendly draugr…”

“It’s okay, Lucien. Imagine them coming at you for hugs when they come to attack you!”

“Inigo, that is not as comforting as you think it is…”

“I mean it’s better than imagining them naked!” Rumarin adds.

“Great. Thanks! Now I’m going to imagine them naked and running towards me for hugs.” Ravonna says, irritated.

“You really are a merry bunch! I’ve never heard of people joking this much in a gods-damned dungeon.” Teldryn adds, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at Ravonna’s company. He expected her to make friends. She was always quick to form friendships and rivalries. He remembers so fondly when she came home from Vivec with 10 other college mates. Endryn barely found room for them at the tavern! But he didn’t expect for her to find so many folks that just... complete her so well. For once, he feels at peace knowing that they would never hurt her. It seems like they'd follow her into the depths of Oblivion, and maybe this is what is all about. Not the adventures, but the connections we built with each other along the way.

I have no idea who had already done this or not, but I'm tagging @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @thelavenderelf @mareenavee This is absolutely only if you want to do this, of course! 💖💖

#tag game #skyrim fanfiction #miraak x ldb #wygtya #oc: ravonna #lucien flavius #rumarin #rumarin 3dnpc #inigo the brave #teldryn sero

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carmenized-onions · 2 months

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Just Dropped | Missing Invoice

Here we go sweets

HERE WE GO

I was so stunned with Carmy's "Respect him" Cause babe wtf we were vibing earlier????? But yea- the last chapter he can ruin it for himself go get it Carmy-

"You were expecting comradery. The guy is a dick, why won’t Carmen admit that? Why’s he suddenly got stock in his captor?"

Right???? COMRADRY I WAS PISSED

“N’ what the fuck are you?”

I wanted to punch CARMEN

"Oh. Stray bullet, for you. You wince— Not that you weren’t already, but that was definitely a personal hit. Richie’s still harboring resentment over that for Carmen, which means he still holds it somewhere for you, too. And at least Carmen came back after, to take care of The Beef. Where the fuck were you for the better half of a year? Vanished. You completely vanished, on him."

That hurt THANKS RICHIE (I know you didn't mean it towards me honey)

"You catch it from Carmen, too. Does Carmen see you as a leech? A parasite, tethering to his family? To his work? Is that why he’s mad, right now? You’ve inserted yourself without asking— You’re so pushy— No, no, he likes that your pushy, you’re good. He doesn’t think that about you, he doesn’t actually think Richie is a leech either, he’s just saying shit to start shit. It’s working. He’s really stirring up shit."

I love how Tony tries rationalizing it like no no he doesn't think it he's just starting shit

I love how Richie says I love you so unabashedly like yes he loves this guy he considers family and it's awfully upsetting that he is pretending he isn't family

"You're fucking nothing"

GOD THAT CARMEN

Like that obviously hurts cause Uncle Lee to Mikey and it's so rage worthy

And I hate that too personally been told I'm useless or that I essentially amount to nothing which even when true is exceedingly hurtful

But with Carmy, Mikey and Richie's personal history it's practically a time bomb

How dare he say that "fix him?" FIX HIM? BABE NO BODY CAN FIX ANY OF YOU AND TONY AINT TRYING

I love the way you write so much so that Carmy is a real person and I have beef with him

I actually did cry this chapter

Now that I am on a re read because I didn't give you my thoughts earlier so

junkie loser

asshole CARMEN ANTHONY BERZATTO

"“Don’t tell me I’m fucking confused. I’m not fucking confused— I— This is my fucking kitchen, alright?” Entirely nonsensical. Too many thoughts are stirring in his head."

MAYBE SHUT UP AND LISETN?????????????

“That’s me— That’s who the fuck I am. And I’m good like that, so—So if he’s a fuckin’ creep so am I. N’ I don’t need you comin’ in my fuckin’ kitchen, comin’ in my fuckin’ life, actin’ like you know better than me!”

WELL S3 PREDICTION HAHAHAHAHAHAH

(I haven't finished it yet but I read stuff in comments lol)

Failed Mickey hurt

I remember putting down my phone and taking in a deep breath

I was in public transport and did not want to cry-

Damn right Carmy

TONY IS NOT MICKEY

I love that his regret is so well written you know

I love the way you write

Cause like even I say stuff suddenly that I do not mean

But never this mean

"You get to be the first person he’s ever made cry, in his kitchen. When his brain comes back to his body, and he repeats back to himself the exchange that just happened. Yeah, he’d cry, too."

I did cry so thank you CARMEN I'M SO MAD

I absolutely love how Sydney and Richie rush behiind Tony

It's so fuckiign sweet

"“No.” You shoot Carmen down quickly. “Richie’s got it. You’ve gotta keep your kitchen in order.”"

GO TONY

The shock that Mickey gave her money and not vice-versa so well done almost surpassing the next chapters (sponser spoiler alert)

“I—” How can you word this in a way that isn’t just as cruel? “I didn’t think we were friends.”

NO BUT SO ME

Like honestly I really don't think people consider me a friend and I'm always so surprised because I just don't think that people think I'm their friend?

“I… I feel like… I’m just like… So insecure, about my place in relationships, that like— Like I’m not worth people’s time. Like we were only friends because we were friends with Mikey and we were handling him and I was like— Like I was helpful. So, like, when he died, it was like… We— There was no reason, for you to be friends with me, anymore. No us.”

EXACTLY THIS

YOU GET IT

I love the taylor swift conversation so much man

Me too

Like I don't hate her but concert would be a bit much haha

But for Richie and Eva I'm here hundred percent

Richie and Syd speak in unison, a rarity, for them to be on the same page. “No the fuck it’s not.”

My favourite bit from it all lol

“Fucks Inky mean anyways? Stupid ass nickname—” “Oh, like Chip is so original—” “Actually, a dead guy coined it, so betchu feel real dumb now—” “I’m not capable of feeling dumb—” You interrupt, “Girls, girls, you’re both beautiful.”

You explain to Rich, “I called Syd ‘Squid’ in high-school— Literally just ‘cause it sounds funny, and uh, she felt jealous that she didn’t have one for me—”

THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME I WAS SO CURIOUS

“I know you said I’d be a perfect match for your little brother, but at this point, I’m taking that as a read.”

omg no way

ARE YOU HAPPY? HERE YOU GO I VENTED

ALSO LIKE I TOTALLY LOVED YOU DM'ING ME BTW

felt so seen and loved

thank you

muah

Got an hour of answering asks until I return to banging my head against the wall trying to write the last two scenes of chapter 14 (it’s a fucking nightmare) (we’re at 8k right now) (we’re going to end up over 10k BUT NOT BY MUCH PLEASE GOD PLEASE) Anyways. LETS GO LET’S GET INTO YOUR THOUGHTS FROM JUST DROPPED CHAPTER 11!!!

Carmen’s vibe switch really was so fun to write for me, like he SUCKED the energy right out of the room— In what I feel was 100% the way he would do that. He gives such a fuck about titles, it’s ANNOYING!!!

Richie has been such a joy to dig into for the last few chapters— Two Steps Back specifically was so fun, but with Just Dropped it was fun because I do think somewhere Richie is mad at Chip— Like how could he not be, y’know? He thought he just lost one friend and then he lost TWO!!!?? He gets it, but I do think like Chip said, somewhere deep, it’s still kinda there.

Carmen however, was 100% being a shitstarter in this fight that was all a FUCK load of projecting. I mean c’mon, that nothing talk— This mffff…. No one’s useless!!! He’s just bullshit!! Writing fights is really one of my favourite types of dialogue to write, it kinda reminds me of this one fuckin’ quote somewhere about how the way you react to fearing for your life shows a lot about you. I think the way you fight shows SO much about a character. We could dig in for literally hours about each line from the freezer fight, I love that shit man. THANK YOU AND SORRY FOR MAKING YOU CRY ABOUT IT.

Yeah, I did seem to have called that fuckin shot— I was not surprised to see David. I am an oracle,,, Or rather, the writers just set up a very clear through line— well, this one through line, at least— I’m being catty about s3 I need to relax.

NOT PUBLIC TRANSPORT— Man this chapter and two steps back were the chapters I was like, everyone needs to lock in to read these ones— Maybe I should put a lock in warning up top LMAO.

Rereading Carm’s regret after Two Steps Back is so interesting, in retrospect— Thank you for enjoying it— Regret is hand in hand with why fights are my favourite thing to write. I LOVE WHEN MOTHERFUCKERS FEEL GUILT YEEAGGHHHH YEAAH!!!!!!! Don’t know why it just does it for me but it DOES.

Red-Herring everyone with the joint bank account did put a smile on my face,,, hehehehe

Syd/Rich/Tony, I’ve said it ad nauseam but they’re really my fuckin, fuckin what’s the bridgerton thing? Rose of the season? Idk I capped out of shows I can give my brain to. The scene in the parking lot with Richie was one I’d really been waiting for, and I’m very happy it connected with all the other people pleasing readers in the way that it did. I am also not a big TSwift fan, but for Richie, ,,, I will fold.

Omg YES way dude, but you’ve read Two Steps Back now so you know what that Phantom was yapping about. AND GOOD I’M GLAD— I’m very bad at DMing people both in life and on Tumblr so when I do it know it’s all my willpower and strength and love in one message <3

P.S I did get your replies from your notes on the last chapter!!! They were also lovely to read thank youuu love you on to the NEXT FUCK I HAVE HALF AN HOUR, alright we’re just gonna go for however long it takes.

#yapping #ask #extensive yapping #navs bhat #Missing Invoice / Just Dropped #I realized i should start tagging chapters #better late than never

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8bitsupervillain · 2 months

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Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 5 Meakashi pt. 2

Rather inexplicably the second part of this chapter reminded me of the Vengeance trilogy of movies. Particularly the movie Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance. No idea why, since this was a rather calm and sedate part.

Also, in the last part I mentioned that the thrilling escape from private school occurred in 1983. I have absolutely no idea why I thought that was the case because I know the escape, and most of this chapter occurs in 1982. Just a brainfart on my part I suppose.

I assume this diary entry was written by Shion, if I had to guess the time, I'm going to presume it's at least three months after Watanagashi. My kneejerk reaction was closer to June 1983, but I don't think it would be that far out from Satoshi's disappearance. I got the vague implication from Chapter 3 Tatarigoroshi that Shion tried pretty hard for a while to get to the bottom of Satoshi's disappearance, up until one day she more or less accepted he was well and truly gone forever. Mind you the times I've pulled out are entirely just guess work on my part. For all I know she wrote this on June 25th 1982, after Satoshi had been missing for the three days. Also the reason I speculate it's Shion's diary/journal here is because I think she's the only character who would have the mindset to commit it to page. Mion, has the entire Sonozaki family at her beck and call to find Satoshi if she wanted. Rika, I don't think would necessarily care that much about him vanishing, maybe the first few goes around the time loop maybe she did, but having done this as many times as she has she probably quit caring. Satoko I don't think could be that composed about writing it down that he went missing. If she'd written it I imagine it would be a lot more panicked and frenzied. Tomitake, Ooishi, and Takano I don't think would really give a damn about him, and Keiichi doesn't know he even exists/doesn't even live in Hinamizawa. Therefore: this is Shion's diary.

It's the little things that clue me in to the fact it's 1982. Also I get the feeling this chapter, like Himatsubushi will be jumping around the timeline somewhat.

Mion and Shion, the truest pals anyone could ever see. Stick together through thick or thin. They stay on top cause they play to win. Sure hope nothing happens to break such an idyllic relationship apart.

The two talk about Shion's escape and how she needs to support herself now that she is a dropout. Shion decides to work for her uncle's restaurant.

See, now this is helpful. Even if it is just kids messing around and being dumb, trying to figure out the particulars of the curse is interesting to me.

What a peculiar thing to say.

What an additionally peculiar thing to say.

Shion and her uncle talk some more about the curse of Oyashiro. I particularly like the inclusion that when the first victim happened no one thought anything about it. But when it happened twice more people started treating it more and more seriously. It's a nice touch that lends a certain amount of believability to the idea about how a group of yahoos can start to believe in outlandish ideas like a killing curse.

#higurashi #higurashi when they cry #higurashi no naku koro ni #higurashi playthrough

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macawritesupdates · 4 months

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OK let me start out by saying you are an excellent writer and I hope this doesn't come off as anon hate or bullying when I tell you I hated the last prompt chapter so so much. It hurt me so much my god I hated seeing Megumi so broken poor guy it was awful. Damn Yuuji's quiet rage is always a sight to see I appreciated that. Sukuna you fool you absolute idiot you made the wrong choice every single time you personally destroyed any chance of your own happiness huh bud. Your life is completely devoid of meaning or connection. I loved when Yuuji said it wasn't his problem if Sukuna wasn't happy like hell yeah he's right and even having lost everything he's still not fully broken and he can see just how empty your life is. Yuuji has lost but his soul is so strong he's no longer a sunshine boy but he's still got something inside him that lets him keep his dignity. It's a cold hard determination that grew from the ashes of the naive boy the cursed world killed. Ow ow man that hurts a lot. God I hate it how did you make them killing each other at the end feel hopeful. Sukuna I hope you correct your mistake in the next life let go of that hate that destroyed you even more than it did him. In the next life do better. Do better please. God Yuuji smiled again at the end that hurts so bad. Anyway brilliant chapter but ouchie. It was so well done but it hurts me to read it. Thank you for writing and sharing with us I'm going to go cry now.

*Squishes your cheeks* Darling reader, listen to Maca-senpai on this one: You are ALLOWED to dislike fics I write <3 Some flavors aren't for everyone and if you didn't like it I 100% and never offended nor see it as bullying or anon hate! It is clear you like the writing itself but the themes were harsh! You still gave a nice comment as there were parts that you clearly liked even if it was a bit ouchies chapter ; w ;

I always try to label the angst as I know people like to avoid it and I never take ANY offense if people prefer only the fluffy bits <3

You are appreciated no matter your opinion!

(And actual anon hate just goes into the trash because who got time for that? This was just a genuine comment that I appreciate and wish to pat you on the head and go write a fluffy one-shot to offer it to you as an apology mint!)

#Maca answers asks #you guys can dislike my angst stuff!#Don't read the angst if it hurty my readers!#I want you to be happy beans! Read what your heart can handle you goobers!

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winns-stuff · 2 years

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LO APPRECIATION:

Lord, I am so upset at myself for forgetting about one of my most favorite character in the series. I’m sorry y’all I’ve been doing so many damn rants that I’ve been lacking with the appreciation side of my page. Anyways, I would like all of you to give a standing ovation to a nymph who’s more than worthy of the spotlight (although I hated the way they decided to present her) and is more beautiful than half of the main cast because she was absolutely gorgeous, I’d like you all to give a warm welcome to Leuce.

Listen, I wanna get out one thing. I love her so much, I was literally one of the people defending her when the fans tried to tear her a new one for even being close to Hades. I’m gonna say it now, if Leuce was really into Hades and genuinely wanted him for herself she could’ve had him in any universe. But he honestly doesn’t deserve someone as beautiful as she is. I love everything about her and she didn’t deserve half of the haters she gained from that fucking chapter, it will forever irk the hell out of me. Now y’all know how Minthe felt when Persephone literally did the SAME THING.

But onto the things I love about her, one thing is her personality. She seemed so kind but she had so much self confidence, like in that moment I felt like she could flip the conversation to her at any given moment. I never had such interest in a character, or no that’s a lie I have but it’s been a while since that interest had been brought out. I’m glad that Leuce knew who she was, even when Hades declined her she still held her head high and walked out of the room, unlike Persephone who can’t take no from anyone and starts begging and crying like a literal baby, Leuce was always mature and so sophisticated. She never spoke out of turn or tried to manipulate the conversation to be in her standard, no meant no with her and I’m glad that the “replacement Persephone” was way better than the actual one.

Also speaking of that nickname, Leuce was never a replacement just an upgrade.

Next thing I wanna talk about is her aesthetic, she has one of the most beautiful designs ever and I absolutely hate the fact that she was really just used as more HxP leverage. She’s so much more than that, she was so pleasing to the eye and whenever I saw her it was like smelling a person who bathed in lovely soaps for like 60 years (weird analogy but think about it cause that’s how it felt for me) and whenever she spoke every word made me want to hear more from her. There’s never been such an alluring and captivating character like that in the whole series! Yes, I know it’s a shame that Rachel didn’t try to make Aphrodite more like that but what can you do I guess.

Another thing I loved about her is her dress, I know we’ve seen similar looking dresses in LO but something about hers is just gorgeous to me. I love everything about it that dress is amazing to me. The silhouette, the little corset in the middle, the armband, the way it just mysteriously travels down her body and everything is amazing. I’ve never loved an outfit more, except maybe Artemis’ god form, but none of the outfits in LO have been as good as hers and there’s a few people I can think of who equate to her but not many.

I adored the way her hair looks as well, I’ve never been so mesmerized about seeing curls in so long but everything about it is so amazing and wonderful. The length is perfect, the way the curls sit on top of her head are perfect, everything about her hairdo just exudes perfection. I feel like if they gave her any other hairstyle, believe me she’d still look absolutely amazing, it wouldn’t have the same effect as the bun does. Especially since the little flowers are just decorated in her hair, it’s amazing and even though I wish she were more accurate and not a flower nymph because let’s be real, flower nymphs are not the only nymphs in Olympus I’m still so obsessed with the way they look on her and her only.

Last thing I loved about her appearing in the episode was how many beautiful redesigns came out of it. I personally love seeing redesigns because they’re all always so good and well thought out but the way that Leuce’s appearance brought out so many talented people is crazy. No matter who it is they’re always so good.

Anyways, that’s the end of the appreciation for this post but it won’t be for me of course. I’ll always love and appreciate Leuce, she could’ve been one of the best characters honestly. But I just hate that she was just supposed to be a sugar baby for Hades, not that the sugar baby part is the bad thing I just hated how Rachel tried to make it seem like that was all she was. I hate how Leuce was only used to make Persephone look like “the better woman”, it’s always with women who are either more confident or comfortable in their own sexualities. Like it genuinely irks me so much that no woman is deserving of a good ending or happy love life in LO if they’re not HxP. There’s more things about the way Leuce is introduced that pisses me off but I can’t think of it now and besides, this is supposed to focus more on the appreciation of Leuce not how terribly the comic treated her.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo

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thedarling · 2 years

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This Ain't It.

8:56 p.m. Still processing It Ends with Us and wanting to understand its meteoric rise... I don't review books but, goddamn.

First off, I never intended to read this book given that my friend told me to steer clear of Colleen Hoover's work earlier this year. In her words, "You will hate it" and she was right.

But then, a month ago or so, NPR featured Hoover's work on one of their broadcasts and I was shook by her dedicated readers. They played a clip of this one TikToker sitting in her car and crying – CRYING – over the ending, touting that it damn near changed her life. Naturally, I was intrigued. Thousands of five-star reviews couldn't be wrong, no? Some of the greatest literary works of our time don't even touch those numbers–

Wrong. Wrong. I was so wrong.

Kindly, whoever is in charge of Hoover's marketing has greatly outdone themselves, because somehow they managed to convince the publisher (and readers) that this novel [about explicit domestic abuse and violence] is "a love story".

As someone who has experienced events akin to what Hoover describes in her book, uniquely, I need to understand her research process because, though the book strives for realism, the rationale she credits the abuser with is absurd. She acts like he's 100% sane and logical and only flies off the handle when triggered. Abusers are abusers all of the time. Not some of the time, not most of the time, ALL of the time. There's no switch. This isn't Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Dahmer didn't stop being Dahmer when he went to work, no different from John Wayne Gacy or Joseph James DeAngelo. They are monsters, through and through, indefinite psychos and classical narcissists who only look out for themselves, AND when their victims try to leave them they do not let them go.

In my experience, there was no 'reasoning' with my abuser. I had to disappear and pray to god that he found another victim before he found me. Even now, it's been a decade and that fucker still haunts my nightmares. Unlike Hoover's protagonist though, it only took one time for my abuser to hit me and I wanted nothing to do with him - but that didn't stop him from trying. I had to change my number despite the no-contact order, I had to move twice after he slashed my tires, left bullets in my mailbox (at the time my room was visible from the street and the idea of him pointing a gun at me still scares at me). Later he broke into my car while I was at work, that after he lied to the cops and told them he didn't have my key fob. When they asked, he had absolutely no idea who would key the shit out of my car or leave a massive gash in the hood and both headlights... This guy cost me a fortune and my livelihood for years. There was no rationale. I had no agency. He thought I was his.

I still remember the last text he sent me before I changed my number,

"It's a nice night to be on the beach with the one you love."

My best friend was right beside me when she said it, "Well... he and Satan can have a great time on the beach."

So much of Hoover's book is pure fantasy and I'm a fool for sticking it out to the end, but, you know what, I really wanted to experience whatever it was that made that girl cry. I thought it would get better but it didn't. Ironically, I was gaslit into finishing, believing that it would get better, and then when I did finish, the book gave me the stalest, most unrealistic ending it could afford me. I wish my abuser let me go the way that the protagonist's abuser had. Like all a victim has to do is say, "enough", and then just leave. My god, I wish, I wish - it was that simple. Again, pure fantasy.

Painfully, this book is so naïve and hurtful. I will say, the best part about it is that it did provide resources and contacts at the end for people who have experienced or are experiencing abuse, but honestly, for anyone who is or has, they probably never made it to the end. I should have dropped this book two to three chapters in but I had hope. I really, really did. I just can't get over her naming her child after Dory from 'Finding Nemo'. Seriously, what the fuck was this book and who was it written for??

8:57 p.m. About to hop on a call and explain the story's synopsis to a friend and vent. Then John Langan's horror after that. Yeah. Full night.

#daily blog

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ciaossu-imagines · 7 months

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It's no problem at all and thank you so much or saying that. And I can’t blame you for getting sidetracked with a lot of thing sine I have been known to get that as well and it is also one of the reasons it took me so long to even write all of that previous message out. I really am and I’m really looking forward to seeing what the next chapter has to bring. I’ve seen some spoilers of it and am curious to see it all together in English. I’ve already told my friend about it so hopefully she’ll also watch it one day, though I’ not sure whether she’ll read the manga because she doesn’t have that much time but hopefully she will. I’ve spammed her with picture of Mikuni and she likes his design so hopefully one day.

And I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts. Damn, 500. That’s seriously so much. But it is good that it will help in keeping the blog going for the months to come. It’s cool. What’s important is that you enjoy writing them and even though I have blocked your avalanche of spice tag, I’m looking forward to anything else you’ll give us, be it unrequested or requested. I see, that makes sense and then you don’t have to face any kind of filler while consuming Black Butler. Me too. Feel free to share your thoughts about it with me when the time comes. I see. I also have that sometimes with actors and I’ll just be looking at them on the screen, hoping to remember their name or where I saw them before and if I can’t remember, I’ll just IMDB them. Thank you so much. And that they most definitely do.

Oh, I see, that makes sense and I love that your replies can go overboard because of that. Yeah. I just had the problem of adding short text message after text message to her and it was just a bit much to her to respond to all of those texts (since we talk in WhatsApp and we usually reply to the text itself, one after another) when she did respond so now I’m trying to do a maximum of 10 messages per go (unless images are involved but I still try to keep it to a small amount). But thank you so much for saying that 😭 Yeah, the chapter really was. Like it concentrated on my favourite team after a big important match and I just loved seeing the interact and everything. Well, I had actually already kind of seen them grown up before since the last non-special chapter has a scene of various characters in the future and even after that there’s a special chapter with that semi-fave boy in the future but not like this. Like the clothes that he wore in the previous post-timeskip chapters and the clothes he wears here are so different. That was actually was I was talking about with my friend so it’s like even though I’ve seen him as a grown-up before, not like that and it’s really nice. Not only that but his smile and what he said was so great and you bet I cried. Not only then but like while reading the whole chapter. I don’t actually know when I started crying but seeing him there at the end really does make me so happy and I now often just check that picture out because even in the anime, you can’t help but love that smile. It’s just so gentle 😭 (though what he says is so teasing and I absolutely love it). Could I send you the picture? I’ll take what he says out so it’s absolutely non-spoilery and the only spoiler thing is how he turns out as a 29 year old but yeah, just can’t help but ask. And yeah, I actually already know what they became because of the last non-special chapter and even though I never thought about what they’d become, it all makes sense and you bet I’m proud of them, all of them, for where they ended up. Though the author did give a bit of extra info on that guy for him in the future and I’m still absolutely here for it. People want him and I love it (I don’t know how else to word it without giving you spoilers but it’s nothing weird, I promise). And of course 💕 Your Ever Young plan makes sense.

That’s great to hear 😄 Oh, so you’re almost there, nice. And that’s amazing to hear about the Nanbaka manga. I hope all chapters are great quality and that the story’s good. The Discord I’m in is at chapter 224 so we’re quite a bit behind but I love the way it’s translated so I’ll stay with that for that.

That makes sense. I also recently had to do that for something else that I can talk to you about in the DMs if you want. But that does sound annoying, damn. Yeah, the fogging up is also annoying. And I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope you still get to rest plenty and that you have a speedy recovery.

As a seasoned AO3 poster, I’ll give you the basis of what I know sine I am someone who does tend to put my story first into the HTML window. Though I’ll also say that you can put your story into the ‘Rich Text’ window and work with that, since you can easily align your text in there and you can select that you want to italicise it or bold it or something like that. I just like italicising my story in the HTML window since for me, it’s quite easy to type the right thing at the beginning and end of what’s supposed to be italicised (<i> at the beginning and you close it off with </i>). I also recently learned (at least I think that’s the case) that you can’t do superscript in the rich text bit so if you want to do that it’s <sup> at the beginning and </sup> at the end. Though there is the danger that your text will become like one block in the writing thing if you go from one section to another so I always click on the ‘Preview’ button, then go back to editing and then go to the other section. Hope this is clear and helps in some kind of way. Gods, just the thought of all those sounds is killing me so I totally understand. If I have to, I can shut out unpleasant noises while I’m in the zone but yeah, music isn’t unpleasant and I wouldn’t want to shut it out so I rather just write with the hum of my computer as the only constant noise. Thank you.

Of course 😊 Thanks for understanding whenever I get sidetracked! Like I said, I always wish there were just a couple more hours in the day so that I’d have extra time to do all the things I need to do and then more of the things I want to do, haha. Don’t even worry about taking long to reply to our messages! They’re always lengthy so I expect delayed responses because of that, especially since everyone has their own lives and stuff going on. And I’m really so intrigued by what’s going to be revealed in the next couple chapters – I’ve been good about avoiding Servamp spoilers past Chapter 134…I have my theories about some things but I’m hoping for quick translations of the rest so that I can see if those theories are right, because if they are, good god will that be a nicely done twist. And I hope your friend gets around to checking it out! The art in the manga really is beautiful and like I mentioned, I screenshot a lot of mangacaps every time I read something and go and look at several of my favourites when I have sad moments. I picked a couple that are relatively non-spoilery, ones that really speak to the theming of the story, just in case seeing the art and characters makes any of my lovely readers more likely to go and check it out!

I’m always so flattered whenever someone says they’re looking forward to hearing me ramble about things so thank you so much for that. And yeah, I’m really so flattered and happy that the event was such a hit this time and I’m hoping everyone is finding the queue as useful and enjoyable as I am. I’m keeping it at one a day just because I’m barely writing at the moment, all caught up in rereads and such, but the queue is currently at about two months, so I can relax and do stuff like that without any worries about not being active enough on here for you lovely readers 😊 And that is a load off my shoulders and results in a much happier Dee. When I am writing though, I’m really enjoying doing so, because there’s a great variety of characters, fandoms, and genres to write because I included and distributed the unused fandoms evenly amongst all my fandoms and the characters. I hadn’t thought about the fillers I’ll be avoiding that way but you are right and now I’m even more sure about going manga. Some filler is fun but some is…awful, if I’m to be truly honest. And I definitely will share my thoughts when I get to that point in the rereads. I’m just about to finish up the last five chapters in Dogs: Bullets & Carnage today and then because I’ve hit two really heavy series back to back, I’m taking a nice break and reading through Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun! I’ve been doing great – once I finish Dogs, that makes five fandoms I reread/caught up on the source material for!

Ah, as always, it’s a relief to hear people enjoy my absolute novels that I write to them, haha! I textwall like a bugger, but at the same time, you lovely readers are all so fascinating and fun and interesting to talk to, how can I not! And I’ve never used WhatsApp but I can get that getting textwalled via text can be a little harder to keep up with in comparison to getting textwalled in say, the tumblr dm’ing system or via email. But I can also imagine that WhatsApp is a lot better about word counts and image sharing! And I’m so glad to hear that the special Haikyuu!! chapter was all that you had wanted it to be. (Side note but I’m so upset – the Haikyuu!! manga disappeared from my manga reading app so looks like unfortunately I’m going to have to go anime only on that one, though I prefer reading). And that’s so cool, that the series gives time and space to see these characters grown up. I find a lot of sports manga is honestly really good about things like that, because we are all always so curious to see what our favourite teenagers will grow up into. Ooh, did his fashion choices get better, worse, or just really different? I’m just so glad that it gave you extra for a character you adore so much and I know that his smile really makes you happy so yay 😊 Please, of course feel free to send through the pictures, especially since you’re willing to take out the text so I don’t get spoiled. It really does warm my heart when people are willing to take in consideration spoilers and such because unfortunately, though I love my friends dearly, not all of them are so careful about spoilers haha.

I can completely get sticking with the translation you prefer, so I’m glad it’s got at least that many chapters for Nanbaka and I’ll be careful, when I get to Nanbaka and catch up on it, that I don’t spoil anything past that point for you! The quality should be good, I’m hoping, and my favourite thing about my manga app is that it, by default, takes the images down to medium quality (good enough to read but not high-res images) but if I want, I can go and set the pages to be a higher resolution, which really helps for chapters where the images are grainy in medium res. And please go ahead and talk to me about anything in the dm’s! You have me curious. And thank you for the well-wishes. Unfortunately, I’m an absolute moron and I smoke, so colds tend to hang around longer than they would otherwise, but I’m healing up really well. And thank you so much for the run-down on AO3 posting! That’s very helpful to know and having a preview feature will really be a godsend for me. I was super worried I’d post and then have to go back and edit a million and one times to fix anything that didn’t look right. And I don’t mind HTML, I just always struggle with the paragraphs and breaks in HTML a little but it’s good to know that 😊 And it’s always lovely that everyone writes in such different ways and is an interesting thing for me. What about any of you lovely readers out there, on top of C? Is there anything you listen to while writing or any writing habits you have – things you need in front of you, areas you need to be, etc?

#admin chatter #c

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chaotic-plotter · 1 year

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@dreamerinsilico <3 sent me a lot of emojis and i'm going to answer them all. from this ask meme

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

is it cheating to say "any of them"? 😂

i haven't written all that many so there's not a lot to choose from. we'll go with "a lighthouse five hundred yards down". at the time, i never planned on writing it, but the idea hit me like a damn anvil one really stupid humid day in summer 2021 and i was haunted until i finally wrote it.

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

the kind where people either tell me why something struck them or where they dive into language/images/etc. mostly because that's what i like to do when i read something (dive into language, images, etc) and also because, even though it's a super limited dataset, fic is the only place i can get random reader feedback (not writer feedback, i have critique partners). i come from throwing myself against (....and sliding on down) the glass hill of trad pub and had never actually gotten any kind of feedback/response from people who didn't know me or my writing before and it was really useful to see what people responded to, if they liked my style, etc.

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write?

funny enough.....yes? and also funny enough, i sort of get to? in a sense?

i started my long post-fall fic right after my first rewatch back in 2021 and i planned out the whole thing (yes it's still taking me 800 years to finish it, i apologize). but in reality, i sort of have a different outlook on will and hannibal post-s3 than i did at the time. and i'm really going to be rethinking the back half of that fic as i work towards finishing it.

so, essentially, yes, i wish i could rework those first 6 chapters (especially the first 2, wrt to writing style and tone especially!) to better fit whatever pivot i'm going to do in the last 4. i wouldn't change any of will's internal arc, i'm still happy with that, but there's plot stuff that i would.

🕯️was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you?

not one that anyone can read, but i tried, thinking it would be darkly funny and maybe a good time (why i thought this is a mystery) to write about will post sex with margot. but writing about it in a "will has had sex that was Not Enjoyable but hey it was Sex With a Real Human Person and is reminded of his profound loneliness and has a little cry in the bathtub about it" way.

.......yeah i legitimately made myself upset with that one and had to stop. maybe i'll circle back around to it when i'm not so profoundly lonely.

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

i don't have any writing aftercare 😛 i probably should though

mostly i just take a couple of days off from writing after i finish something. idk, does checking your email hoping someone comments count as aftercare? i'm afraid i'm a terrible obsessive and putting things down is not my greatest skill, even if i am exhausted and glad to be done with actively working on them.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

hmmmmmm. well.

the next wip i actually have on the docket is a s1 nudist will au. i'm excited to jump back into hannibal's headspace after being outside of it for so long. he's absolutely insufferable and i can't wait to go full goose menace on everyone in the story (until it turns back on me and he never shuts up 😛)

and then, well, i've got another one-shot challenge after that, which is all about stretching muscles i rarely stretch 😏. i'm still deciding if i want to run a poll about it or if it should be a complete surprise

send me more asks if you like! i love these emoji meme post things

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shugokairifatewin · 2 years

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I was going to wait until Chapter 116 released to give a full length rant, but it's been eating at me the last few days and we really need to talk about Chapter 114 and 115 of Seraph of the End. As always, spoilers ahead, be aware! Unpopular opinions also ahead; I'm pretty heated about this one, just a warning!

*~*~*~*~*

Let me start by saying I am hurt. I am offended. And I am betrayed. Because Kagami really over here hyping up this whole family-always-sticks-together BS with Guren and Yuu and the rest of Squad and even Mika jumping in there like yeah this is my family, and it's great and it's wholesome and we're making progress-

Only to turn around one (or two? I can't recall) chapters later and plunge a sword through Yuu's heart - and mine as well.

Mika has always always always been my favorite character. He has suffered. He has died, he's come back. He finally freaken started finding peace of mind as Yuu's demon. And I would fight wars and burn worlds for this man to have some damn peace and happiness with his boyfriend best friend and family. And Kagami TEASED US with that glimpse of happiness and acceptance and then CRUSHED IT.

And frankly it makes me sick. I'm so done with the greedy ass manipulative people who have been twisting knives in the backs of my favorite characters for YEARS of this story now.

This whole damn time, Guren KNEW that Mikaela was going to have to die AND HE HAS MANIPULATED THE EVER LIVING SHIT OUT OF YUU KNOWING THIS. This whole fucking time, he's been saving this kid, keeping him alive, feeding him false hope and bullshit about family this and keep living because some day you'll find a reason again that - ONLY FOR THIS INGRATE TO KILL THAT VERY REASON OF EXISTENCE FOR HIS OWN ENDS! I am hot mad about it.

Guren has always been a rollercoaster character for me, love and hate and despise and love again and pity, but this shit is unacceptable. Sure, he wants to save all of humanity and that's a noble goal but the means to an end he's used is absolutely unforgivable.

I'm going to feel terrible for saying it but I hope Yuu razes them all to the ground. He has been used and manipulated, treated like crap left and right and frankly I don't blame him for going off the deep end. In fact, I'm cheering you on my guy.

Moving on from my intense, undiluted fury at Guren and the crappy way he's treated Yuu and Mika, who literally just want to live their best lives in peace, I am broken and in pieces over Chapter 116. I haven't cried this much since Mika died and turned Demon.

To see this expression on Mika's face while Yuu is crying is literally enough to rend my heart in two.

And then when Mika started crying too, I LOST IT. I almost threw my phone I was so emotional. KAGAMI WHY

I FEEL PHYSICALLY UNWELL. My boys are crying 🥺 they are hurting and I cannot handle it.

And can we talk about how we got to see Mika grow from suspicious, angry Vampire who only cares about Yuu and making sure he's okay to caring, compassionate Demon who would give up his life for all of humanity? Only for Guren to not even bar an eyelash at killing him? I just can't.

AND WHEN MIKA TELLS HIM THEY'LL BE TOGETHER FOREVER -

MIKA DESERVES HAPPINESS. YUU DESERVES HAPPINESS. SHIKAMA DOJI AND ANYONE ELSE BE DAMNED THESE TWO DESERVE A FREAKEN A CHANCE TO LIVE THEIR LIVES.

IF GUREN SURVIVES THIS SERIES AND MIKA DOESNT I'M GOING TO RIOT IN THE STREETS.

THEY HAVE BEEN HURT ENOUGH. LEAVE MY BABIES ALONE.

This has been weighing on me for weeks now. I needed to get it off my chest.

That is all.

#ons chapter 115 #ons chapter 116 #i will riot in the streets if Mika becomes a sacrificial lamb #save mika 2022 campaign #Mika and Yuu deserve better #I'm still furious at Guren and his manipulative ass BS #family my ass get out #owari no seraph #seraph of the end #mikaela hyakuya #mikayuu #ons #sote #yuuichirou hyakuya #furious #a rant i needed to get off my chest #seraph of the end rant #be right back I'm selling my soul to save Mika's because he deserves it #the next chapter bettywr fix some crap.

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 325: Deku VS the Outside of U.A. ~Conclusion~

Previously on BnHA: Ochako was all “dear bloodthirsty mob, this kid you see standing before you has fought harder than anyone and put his life on the line to protect you all, so please chill the fuck out, jesus christ. like, putting aside that he’s humanity’s best hope and so it’s very much in your best interests to let him rest and recover someplace safe so that he can keep fighting for us, are y’all seriously going to turn away an injured and exhausted child in front of his sobbing mother?? seriously?? come on now.” I’m paraphrasing here but that’s basically how it went down. Anyway so then the mob was all, “...” and Deku collapsed to his knees in tears, and Gigantic Fox Lady and Kouta ran over to give him a hug but then the chapter ended.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “FINE, YOU CAN HUG HIM”, which, was that so hard?? The U.A. Clown Mob is all “come to think of it, we’ve kind of been taking the heroes for granted this entire time, maybe we should be less passive in the future. anyway so Deku if it’s not too much to ask, can you please save everyone and fix everything.” Deku is all “I sure can, and by the way I forgive you for swarming around all menacingly two minutes ago and trying to deny me basic shelter and stuff.” Ectoplasm is all, “hey Todogang get a load of this. [walks in a circle].” Hawks is all, “that’s literally the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.” Rat Principal is all, “anyway so that’s what your students did today, hope you’re enjoying your new *~*ROBOT LEG*~*, Aizawa.” Aizawa is all “[lots of exposition about Kurogiri and for some reason, Toga, while being all brooding and sexy].” All Might is all “[standing here right outside of U.A. doing absolutely nothing and being foreboding AF]” and that immediately sucked away all of the warm fuzzy feelings from the hugs, goddammit.

each new week has become a waiting game of “when will Deku finally get to take a bath so people will actually be willing to go near him and give him the hugs he deserves.” the stakes have never been so compelling. I’ve almost forgotten about AFO entirely

lmaoooooo

me: for the love of god will someone please give Deku a hug before I die of old age

Mineta: YOU GOT IT!! --

Iida: [SWIFTLY CUTS HIM OFF] NOT YOU

fucking losing it at Mineta’s crying face. he really wanted to hug him. I legit feel bad but this is also the funniest thing I have seen all week, omg

somehow Kouta, who last week was only a hand’s breadth away from touching Deku’s head, is now twenty miles away from him in this new chapter

can I make a Loki reference here. is this recap a good place to insert a joke about someone using a TVA time-rewinding device to fuck with my poor boy Kouta over here. well anyway there it is

AND NOW HE’S BACK ALL OF A SUDDEN OMG

(ETA: since when is he “niichan” omg?? can’t handle this cuteness.)

BUT THEY’RE STILL NOT HUGGING HIM FFFFKFFFFF. WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO. WHO DO I HAVE TO BRIBE AND/OR BLACKMAIL

OH NO KOUTA IS CRYING THAT’S IT I’M DONE FOR

“when I heard that lady I knew that I had to go, but then stop again within inches of actually touching you because you smell like week-old rotten onions.” listen Kouta, I’m not saying I don’t get it, but you all can’t keep doing this to me. it’s the way you guys keep teasing it. like, if you’re gonna hug him, hug him. don’t just stand there with your arms held rigidly out in front of you like a molded action figure

OH MY GOSH BUT HE SAID THE THING

KOUTA SWOOPING IN AT THE LAST MINUTE TO TAKE ALL THE CREDIT FOR FIXING DEKU LIKE THAT ONE KID IN THE GROUP PROJECT WHO DOES ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BUT STILL TAGS HIS NAME ONTO THE REPORT ANYWAY, WHAT A KNAVE

GASP

( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ )

SHE PICKED HIM UP LIKE A LITTLE BABY OMG?? she just leaned right over and lifted this child like he was a small animal. like a lil baby futon that she was about to hang up to dry. oh my god

-- HEY WHAT

(: well that’s extremely fucked up. though sadly not too surprising given what we just saw these past couple chapters

incidentally, I hope that anyone who was legitimately defending the civilians’ perspective earlier takes note here of how quickly that line of thinking -- “we’re just trying to keep our families safe” and all that-- can lead to straight up bigotry. if you’re willing to deny a child shelter and protection simply because he’s not YOUR child, and because you’ve decided based on Internet rumors (no real-world parallels there, I’m sure) that he might present a threat, it’s really not that much further of a leap to discriminating against entire groups of people simply because you perceive those groups as being dangerous. I’m sure the people who turned Gigantic Fox Lady away also told themselves afterwards that they did it to protect their families. “better safe than sorry.” “she’ll be fine, someone will take her in, but as for us, we can’t afford to take that risk.” people can come up with all kinds of justifications for treating other people as less than human, and the really scary thing about it is how fucking easy it is

one last quick side note, which is that Horikoshi does a great job here of showing how scapegoating works, given that AFO is the one who’s really to blame and who presents the actual threat, and yet Deku is the one who ultimately winds up being the target of the mob’s fear and outrage despite him being as much of a victim as they are. gotta love that irony, which unfortunately plays out far too often in the real world as well.

anyway I’ll get off my soapbox now, sorry about that. let us continue

YES, FINALLY OH MY GOD!!!!

AND THAT’S THE STORY OF HOW GIGANTIC FOX LADY BECAME THE GREATEST HERO. PACK IT ALL UP, WE’RE DONE HERE KIDS

holy shit. the real MVP right there. thanks for getting it done champ

jesus christ I have had it up to here with these people

literally the bar is set so low at this point that I’ll go ahead and take it. helping him because it offers them a tactical advantage is at least one step up from not helping him at all

“WHY NOT SHIKETSU” MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

-- thank you!!

okay this one guy with the antennae hair is having himself a character development speedrun here

-- okay, but this part?? fucking this part, right here??

can we repeat that again?? the part where this guy acknowledges that the problems of hero society were caused not just by said heroes, but also by said society?? the part where he acknowledges that they treated the heroes like celebrities who were putting on a show for them?? the part where he acknowledges that when push came to shove, the vast majority of those heroes, when faced with a situation that offered no reward, were nonetheless willing to put their lives on the line to protect the very same people who then turned around and blamed them rather than thanking them?? are the civilians of BnHA even allowed to have actual deep thoughts about this stuff. holy shit

bro!!

ANTENNAE HAIR GUY SHOVING KOUTA AND GIGANTIC FOX LADY OUT OF THE WAY TO SLAP HIS NAME ONTO THE END CREDITS AS EXECUTIVE PRODUCER. CONGRATULATIONS SON YOU FIGURED OUT THE CORE PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTION AT THE VERY HEART OF THE MANGA. WAY TO GO BUD

meanwhile, on today’s episode of “one more chapter to go till the big volume cliffhanger, how else can I drag things out let’s see”

it’s a panel. of people’s feet. just a bunch of normal feet. with sneakers and shit

this All Might shirt guy is getting more screentime in this arc than 90% of the class 1-A kids

I guess I’m supposed to feel sorry for this dude now that he’s all “if we let you stay here do you promise to somehow magically fix every single problem that we are now currently facing?” those are some ridiculously exacting standards my dude. come on now

KACCHAN SIGHTING

thank fuck I’m not the only one who’s thoroughly unimpressed by absolutely all of this lol. I feel better now. meanwhile Iida and Kouda and Kiri are ready to run over there and hug them all. you guys are way too forgiving. damn you and your pure hearts

anyway so Deku’s like “yeah, definitely”

(ETA: almost forgot to comment on the “I’m no longer alone” part – he basically corrects the guy and says “sorry, but you’ll need to direct that question towards all of us, not just me, because moving forward we’re a team.” good stuff.)

you know what though, all joking aside... fuck yeah. because perfect victory, right. the strongest guys don’t settle for anything less. so I guess Deku has pretty exacting standards himself

also can you all just take a look at this fucking kid who’s got so much light in his eyes now that I’m gonna need eclipse goggles. hot damn. “you’re welcome” says All Might Shirt Guy as he is frantically interviewed by several local news networks asking him how he daringly managed to save Deku all by himself. “well I guess I’ve just never been the kind of guy who can sit back and let a bunch of rabble-rousers blame a little kid for all of humanity’s problems. someone had to step in and take action, you know?”

oH MY GOD THE SCENE IS FINALLY ENDING

don’t let the door hit you on your way out All Might Shirt Guy

but meanwhile, sudden Tododrama action??

oh shit

there are honestly so many ways in which Ochako’s very moving speech could have wildly backfired that I genuinely have no clue where this is headed lol. how exciting!!

so now Horikoshi is once again stalling for time with random filler panels, but this one is 10x better than the shoes lol omg

(1) was Ectoplasm’s jacket always this oversized. (2) did you guys know that if you go back to chapter 319 you can see that Horikoshi gave us a sneak peak at Enji’s Sad Detective disguise and I in fact made a joke about it in the 319 recap not realizing it was actually the stone cold truth. (3) did Shouto deliberately speed up out of impatience because Hawks was walking so fucking slow and he couldn’t take it any longer. (4) and what, I ask you, is up with these dramatic speedlines. so many mysteries here. what a masterpiece

everyone is acting all shocked about something ahh what’s going on

wait what

what the heck. did they just loop around behind everyone. what was the point of that lol. “anyway, so this is what they look like from the back” well okay, thanks for that Ectoplasm

(ETA: so it seems like they were actually hanging out someplace else away from the crowd this whole time, I guess? here I thought they had more faith in Enji’s disguise. I guess Shouto and Hawks don’t particularly want to attract this crowd’s attention themselves right now either, though.)

I am so fucking confused lmao

speaking of All Might WHERE THE FUCK IS HE lol. but yes, good, OFA brings everyone together, and Hawks is very deeply moved about this out of the blue all of a sudden. you know how it is

aw heck yeah now this is another filler panel I can get behind

Mineta really wants that hug, good lord. I genuinely love this actually. Mineta if you could just stay little and cute and keep crying about how much you love your classmates in a non-gross way for the rest of the series I would be so appreciative. you’re doing great

IIDA IS HOLDING DEKU’S HAND THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ONE TIME WASN’T ENOUGH FOR MY MAN HE’S ADDICTED NOW

what did I tell you. Kiri wants to get all of the mob’s autographs now. Kiri you’re a peach

Shouji having a conversation with another mutant type is a very nice touch! we really need to get to his backstory soon. I feel like that casual remark from GFL earlier was kind of hinting at more to come

is this the first time we’ve ever seen the Yaoyorictionary in action?? never forget that Viz tried to call it the “Yaoyorozu Reference Book” because they hate fun

last but not least, KAMIBAKU IS BACK ON THE MENU, FUCK YEAH. Kaminari trying to spice things up and introduce a little bit of controversy by smacking Kacchan on the back of the head for god knows what. I will be deeply disappointed after this if I can’t find at least one person unironically declaring that KamiBaku is now toxic and abusive

lfkdlWLWK TODODRAMA??

oh my god. Shouto’s face. Enji’s face. the back to “oyaji” again. the blunt, not-taking-no-for-an-answer, “I don’t know how much louder the universe can scream at you that doing things alone is not it, so hopefully you got the point” directness of it. fffdlkslj I’m so ready for this Horikoshi please don’t fuck it up my expectations are so high

HOLY FUCK

I SCROLLED DOWN AND HE WAS ALL “( ❛‿❛)” AND I JUST WASN’T FUCKING EXPECTING THAT OKAY. JESUS CHRIST. GIVE ME A SEC

lol okay moment over and now Enji’s pulling his hat down all dramatically like a world-weary Cowboy

OH MY GOD WERE YOU FACETIMING??

AHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: not to put Iida down or anything, but it’s kind of strange that Aizawa is all “the class rep sure did great” when Ochako is the one that was giving that whole big speech for like twenty minutes just now lol.)

(ETA 2: “thank god Iida stepped in just in the nick of time to keep Mineta from hugging Deku.” sorry Mineta I really do like you lately but it’s still low-hanging fruit lol.)

HE LOOKS SO SAD??! HE LOOKS LIKE HEARTBREAK ITSELF??! I AM BESOUGHT WITH THE URGE TO REACH INTO MY SCREEN AND PULL HIM INTO THE SAFETY OF MY ARMS??? MY GOD, AND I THOUGHT DEKU NEEDED HUGS

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH okay I was gonna just hold down the letter H for a full minute and count it out loud but within about ten seconds I realized I needed to chill lol

-- but then again NO, I DON’T NEED TO CHILL, I HAVE ZERO CHILL, ACTUALLY, BECAUSE IT’S AIZAWA WITH A ROBOT LEG AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

COMPLETE WITH ROBOT TOES FOR THAT EXTRA TOUCH OF AUTHENTICITY!! I LIKE HOW HORIKOSHI PUT ALL THIS EXTRA “!!!” EMPHASIS AROUND IT IN CASE WE COULD SOMEHOW POSSIBLY FAIL TO TAKE NOTICE. “REMEMBER, EVERYONE?” SAYS HORIKOSHI HELPFULLY. “REMEMBER THAT TIME AIZAWA CHOPPED OFF HIS OWN LEG?” oh wow now that you mention it we somehow forgot all about that. like who do you take us for

OH NO NOT THE SAD BOYFRIEND ANGST THAT I WAS SECRETLY LOOKING FORWARD TO WITH GLEE

well at least he’s not M.I.A. or back with the villains again like I thought he might be. still, that’s gotta be brutal to know your friend is in there somewhere, but to not be able to reach him again no matter how hard you try. that’s the kind of angst that pays off in final battles just when you most expect it. such is my hope, at any rate

what’s this now??

trying to decide if this is Horikoshi’s way of saying don’t worry about that, or his way of saying definitely worry about that lol

anyway so Aizawa is out here being all irresponsibly handsome once again. when is someone going to do something about him

here for Sexy Robot Leg Eyepatch Aizawa clenching his fists and making speeches about revenge. pretty sure we’re all here for that

WELL, WELL, WELL

IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME

I’M VERY GLAD YOU’RE ALIVE AND SEEMINGLY WELL, THOUGH!

BUT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK THOUGH, ALL MIGHT

ffff. bracing myself for that cliffhanger next week. you’d better not touch one hair on this man’s head Horikoshi. I’m watching you

#bnha 325 #midoriya izuku #u.a. clown mob #class 1-a #aizawa shouta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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