#ALSO if he’s been so special since forever because of the lack of horns. why was he assigned to be a random fucking sten hm??

[inquisitorhierarch]

i find the attempts to retcon Sten in the later dragon age games into being the ultimate super specialiest boi VERY funny, not just because based on the way qunari society works they should ABSOLUTELY NOT be picking arishoks from just randos among the beresaad like. dude’s not even a karasten or karashok, come on! the ENTIRE POINT of the way of the qun is that people are expressly trained specifically for their roles. an arishok should have been trained from birth EXPLICITLY for command and both military and spiritual leadership, not just “oh, well... his Literal Place under the qun is as part of the wall of meat that tramples the heathen southerners but he did a really good job one time (and the players wanted to fuck him for some reason) so we’re randomly breaking all our society’s rules and promoting him magically even though We Don’t Do That Here.”

but also. bull’s JOKE of a line about “oh uh yeah when qunari don’t have horns it means they’re super special!” in inquisition LMFAO. oh okay bioware. nice swing!

so what about the other 30 or so qunari mercenaries in origins who Also don’t have horns. what was so fucking special about all of them, huh? mind the curveball<3

[spectraling]

That Witch King slaying duo and their lack of resolution

Ok, I’m going to preface this with the fact that I am very biased because it’s relating to two of my favorite characters in the entire LOTR trilogy (and also my favorite moment in cinema history), but it bothers me every time I see it so here:

In the LOTR movies, Merry and Éowyn receive the unique opportunity of being able to develop a kickass dynamic because they are both stuck in the same boat, namely wanting to go to war to defend what they love from the clutches of evil, but being considered too insignificant/weak to do so. Having Merry know who Éowyn is is a change from the books, and is by far the best change the movies ever made to the source material (you could’ve had your twist moment Tolkien, just...give us this). This way their arcs collide in a really satisfying way, but since it was now there, and they clearly are concerned about and care for each other, the only thing that was missing was really any sort of...resolution? End? To that arc? Dynamic? After they are separated on the fields of Pelennor they never have an interaction again, even in passing.

I mean, they slay the Witch King together, don’t get me wrong, but the way the movie frames it makes it so weird to just..not have their arc end here? Since Merry never goes to the houses of healing in the movies, and he never receives the horn of Rohan from Éowyn, they just kind of never speak again even though they just went through all of that horrible stuff together (and are basically forever scarred by stabbing the Witch King but nobody wants to talk about that angst) and it was set up as them only having each other during that time.

In the moments after the Witch King is slain they are literally a couple of meters away from each other??

Merry ultimately passes out here to be found by Pippin later on, and Éowyn goes on to find Théoden, but in this moment they are both there and they are looking in the direction of each other and there’s nothing obscuring them and they just did this incredible feat and..

..and the next shot we see Éowyn is somewhere else looking for Merry? He was...right there? In front of her?? This is just straight up a continuity error.

Wouldn’t it have been neat if they had acknowledged each other? Éowyn crawling up to Merry instead and see that he’s alive and she found him (there’s even additional previous shots of her calling out to him, she’s clearly very concerned about finding him)? Not even an exchange of words as much as a look that says “Oh my god you’re alive I’m so relieved what just happened did we just kill that thing?”

We don’t even need her crawling up to him if we want to keep that special for her moment with Théoden in just a second, but like? If you’re going to spend those seconds having Éowyn look for Merry, why not just having her see him, call out to him, him possibly calling back or seeing her, and then the orc captain guy that starts chasing her comes in to interrupt this moment. Éowyn looks for a sword to defend Merry despite her terrible condition, but is saved by the passing Aragorn. Of course I would love if Éowyn successfully somehow gutted this guy and defends Merry, but maybe that is too much wishful thinking. Then again Legolas single-handedly takes down an Oliphaunt only seconds later and surfs off of its trunk like it’s nothing so what is realism really.

This would also serve to acknowledge Merry’s involvement and bravery in slaying the Witch King, doing so out of desperation to defend Éowyn in the books (and simultaneously getting revenge for him stabbing Frodo back at Weathertop where Merry could not defend him). It’s so briefly shown that he’s there at all in the movie that if you blink you’ll miss it completely and then Merry is not seen again until Pippin finds him quite a bit later on. I’m also all for giving Merry a brief moment of seeing Éowyn right before the Witch King starts fighting with her so we know he’s there and his intentions are not so sudden, but that’s outside the scope of this post I guess.

All in all I just wanted to rant about this moment that with such a tiny change could’ve given these characters some sort of acknowledgement of each other’s feats, wrapped up their story at least somewhat and it would’ve made my heart so full.

[biznichwrites]

Complete and Udder Smut: 

Pairing: Cow Giyuu Tomioka x Female Human Reader

Content: Smut

Warnings/Kinks: Cow Giyuu lactating, affection kink, praise kink, breeding kink (of course), female reader, dry humping, oral (to male and female)/blow job/cunnilingus, vaginal sex

Word count: 9.9k

I wanted to name this “Got Milk?” but it seemed too cliché. 😂

This is meant to be a one shot but was too long for Tumblr’s post length so it’s been broken up into three parts. I’ve had some people tell me they don’t want to go to AO3/off Tumblr to read it, so here it is.

This has been edited to contain all parts

—————————————-

Giyuu was more than just some cow. He was your sweet, timid boy that had grown into a handsome man over the years you grew up together. Piercing blue eyes, thick black hair, lean and muscular - with the cutest ears, horns that peeked through the dark mane of his hair, and a tail that seemed to give away emotions his face tried to hide.

There was no regret and taking him with you when you left home. The farm was nice and all, but you wanted a different pace of life and more opportunities for your future. For Giyuu as well. He deserved more than to wither away like normal livestock, wasting his days away doing nothing but staring at the walls of a barn with a milk pump sucking at his chest. He deserved to be his own person, to enjoy life and see the world.

Despite the move away being months ago, he was still producing milk. He hated it, wearing a deep frown with a huff as his chest soaked another shirt. Above the inconvenience was the pain. He wasn’t one to complain, so when he would wince at the pressure you knew he was hurting. He would often disappear to deal with it himself, hands coming to his chest to pinch his nipples just right to urge the milk out rather than a pump, not wanting to see another of those in his life. Not that anyone would blame him.

Other days he would sit around shirtless, towel in his lap to catch what leaked from his nipples. It was a hell of a sight, really. For all of his muscles, it just looked as if he had very large pecs rather than enlargement from lactation. Didn’t stop him from looking handsome, especially as his milk dripped from his chest down his abs, having just the lightest touch of hair to create an alluring trail downward.

Today was one of those days, he sat on the couch bare chested, frowning at whatever was on the TV. His hand subconsciously went to his chest, hoping as if holding it would reduce the pain of pressure. His ears twitched and tail flicked in annoyance as you entered the living room, yawning with a stretch. He was a bit jealous of your ability to sleep without a timer strapped to your chest, so to speak. But you also looked so cute snoozing away, so he let it be.

“You’re up early, Giyuu.” Sitting next to him, you lay your head on his shoulder. He was always so comfortable, perfect to cuddle against. Lazily you moved your head, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Not by choice.” His voice was laced with a groan. Poor thing. Your legs shifted under you, allowing you to raise yourself in order to wrap yourself around him, your nose pressed into his temple. Your hand raised to his ear, rubbing it gently, paying special attention to the spot pierced for his tag, as the other held on to him.

“My poor baby boy.” His face tinged red, as if you hadn’t called him cute pet names since the day your parents bought him. Still it was nice to be doted on and he leaned his head into your touch. Your other hand joined the petting one atop his head, petting the fine hair along the velvety ears. With a kiss between his horns you came down to sit at a normal level, still cupping his cheeks.

“What can I do to help?” He didn’t like when you asked that, you’d been taking care of him for so long. He wanted to be independent, able to care for himself and you for a change. Still, your offer always held true, you’d do anything to help him.

“Make it stop hurting.” It wasn’t certain if the request was redundant or not, especially how he spoke, but you’d told him you’d take care of him forever since you both were children, and you meant it.

“Okay, Giyuu.” It was clear he needed help, it was no longer a want. Watching him live miserably day-to-day because of what happened on the farm wasn’t fair. “I told you I’d take care of you forever, no matter what.”

With such words of devotion your body shifted across the couch, almost as if laying down on his lap but one arm propping yourself up. After placing a kiss to the center of his chest you moved to one nipple, licking over it gently before taking it into your mouth.

“Wait, I didn’t-” The sucking shut him up. Your latch wasn’t the best at first, but it just felt nice to have your warm lips gracing his chest. The lack of milk had you adjusting, opening your mouth to take the whole of his areola against your tongue rather than just the nipple.

The milk that graced your mouth was sweet, the taste reminding you of his scent. Was his scent that of his milk or did they happen to just be the same? You found you really didn’t care, not when his head lulled back and his hand came to hold the back of your head, the other holding you close. Gulping down the milk was strange, the temperature being so similar to your own, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It reminded you of vanilla milk, which matched how sweet the man was under his cold exterior. The suckling seemed to trigger a let down on his other side though, and you shifted off the nipple in your mouth to lick the trail of milk on the other side from his hip up. However your head was caught between two strong hands, tilting you to look up at his face.

“What are you doing?” Wasn’t that obvious? Why would he ask that?

“I’m taking care of you. I told you I would.” You didn’t know why he wouldn’t accept that, but that was his issue to work out. Right now all you could focus on was making his pain diminish. Dipping your head down, breaking his hold, your lips attached to the nipple that had not been attended to properly.

He looked down at you, catching your gaze as you suckled on him. With a sigh he adjusted his arms, holding you and supporting your weight, both of you more comfortable as you nursed on him. His fingers pushed your hair from your face, his heart warming as he felt your gentle sucks. You were being so soft, so heartwarming in your handling of him. He felt something within his chest swell.

“I love you.” He didn’t mean to say it, it had just slipped out. While you had told him you loved him over and over in a seemingly endless chorus of affection for years, he reserved himself from doing the same, waiting for the time to be right - just to let it go by accident at the most embarrassing time. Still he couldn’t help but not mind as your latch broke as you smiled, gulping your mouthful of milk before sitting up to beam a happy smile to him. The way your cheeks swelled with your smile caused a flutter in his chest.

“I love you, too, Giyuu.” Your arms wrapped around his waist, holding yourself to him as he cradled you to his chest. “I’d do anything for you. I’m sorry you have to deal with this.”

“You make it better.” He felt your hold temporarily squeeze around him, expressing your joy as your head tucked against his neck. For someone he cared for so much to be the first person to press their lips to his chest and nurse from him made his heart swell. Just as you would do anything for him, he felt the same for you. He wanted all of him to be for you, only you, and to have this be something only the two of you shared made him happy to deal with it all.

“ Giyuu?” A simple hum was your answer. It didn’t deter you, he had always been on the quiet side. “What does it feel like? Like making milk? I guess I just thought it would be like a woman with a baby, but I don’t think it’s the same.”

‘I could put a baby in you if you want to find out.’ He blinked at the thought. While he thought of having sex with you, he never thought of putting a baby inside you before, at least directly. He prayed you never found out about either, he never thought you’d consider him someone as worthy as that. After all, he used to be a milk machine in your parents barn just months ago. He wanted to love you, the way he saw human couples love each other, but he had his fears deep inside.

“It's… tender. A lot of pressure, but to the point it hurts and aches. It’s nice when it’s gone, but it always comes back.” He felt you nodding against his neck, indicating you were listening. You seemed to always be concerned about him, he couldn’t help but feel special.

“What about when it comes out?”

“The pumps hurt, but less than it would to not use them. It pulls blood to the nipple and makes it sensitive and the tugging of the pressure to pull out the milk starts to hurt, too.” That’s what you had figured, he had been so miserable since he started making milk. Before he had been so sweet and calm, a really adorably sweet boy, but maturity had taken that away as he became achy and tired so often at the farm, the toll of making milk and pumping wearing down on him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that happened to you.” You sat up, legs to one side with your bottom on his thigh. Your arms wrapped around his form, holding his head to your chest as your hands soothed him, one trailing up and down his back as the other smoothed over his hair. “I’m supposed to look out for you but I failed you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s better now. That’s what matters.” He was happy that you stole him away when you moved out, going against your parents wishes as you brought the man with you. He knew it wasn’t easy, but he wouldn’t want to ever leave your side. His arms pulled you tight against him, uncaring if he dirtied your shirt. Feeling your warmth was more important, he needed to feel you against him.

“Would it help you if I took care of it when you need? Or does it hurt?” He tucked his head over your shoulder, leaning his cheek into your neck as he thought. Immediately he wanted to say yes, that it felt so much better than using his hands, but he feared it at the same time. He was narrowly able to contain the arousal he felt flowing at the sight of you suckling his chest. How you treated him so gently, as if he was your sole concern, the center of your world. How you catered to him so dearly and gave everything you could for him. Yet the fear of your disgust mounted, afraid that you wouldn’t understand how much your love and affection truly affected him, how it made him throb. But he couldn’t live with himself if he denied the chance to have you dote on him so physically.

“… Yes, I’d like that.” Turning his head, he buried his nose to your neck, inhaling your scent. “You feel the best…”

“Uh… what does it feel like when I do it?” It was embarrassing to ask, but you wanted to know. Did it hurt? Were your teeth too much? Did you suck the wrong way? You had tried to be as gentle as possible, but you had no idea what to do.

“There's… No good way to describe it. It’s warm, you’re so much softer, far better.” His breath hitched as an idea flooded his head. If you swore to be with him forever, if you’d do anything for him, then what would you let him do? “I can show you.”

He pulled back, revealing a face flooded pink that stained down to his collarbone and shoulders. Tentative blue eyes watched as you blinked, taking in his offer before nodding as a blush of your own took hold. His hands moved you atop his lap, straddling him but more along his thighs towards his knees than his hips. The towel that laid in his lap could only hide his erection so much, and he could feel the tension build as your hands reached for the hem of your shirt before tugging the clothing off.

The sight of your breasts took his breath away. They were so… Perfect. Every part of them sat on your frame so well, only accentuated by the cold of the air causing your nipples to harden. For a moment he sat frozen, unconscious of his lower lip caught in his teeth as his hands remained loyal and stayed at your waist, despite the want to grope you. He couldn’t help but lean forward, pressing a light kiss between your breasts as you whispered how sweet he was to yourself.

“Giyuu?” A hum answered you, like so many times before, his eyes taking a moment to leave your breasts before looking to your face. “Can I have a kiss first? Kind of improper to suck my tits first thing before that.”

The man almost melted from the heat rising to his face. How could you say something like that with a straight face? Why did you have to be so cute even with your chest on display? It’s almost as if you have no idea what you do to him, how you seem to be everything he wanted and needed. With a lick to his lips he nodded, hands moving from your waist to your cheeks, cupping your face gently. He never noticed how large his hands were, almost managing to cup your jaw and cheek in one hand, nor how you’ve grown so different over the years. He knew it was a thing, you would grow into a woman and him into a man, but to see the reality was different. You really had grown into a beautiful woman.

His hair grazed against your forehead and cheeks as he grew closer, noses brushing together as his lips pressed to yours. It was chaste, lingering before pulling apart. Memories flooded of the first time he kissed you as children, around 11 years old, swearing to himself you would always be his. To see you smiling with such red cheeks just for him was too much to contain and his lips broke into a smile as well.

The comfort of your arms wrapping around his shoulders was unmatched. He felt like you were both lovers, truly and not just in his dreams. Moments like this were what played through his mind as he stared at the walls of the barn, how he wanted to be anywhere with you - how he needed your love and touch now more than ever. Not that he ever spoke it aloud, he was too awkward and shy for that.

Your hand at the back of his neck urged him forward again, bringing his lips to yours in a kiss that melted you. Neither of you could bear to separate as one kiss formed into another and another, becoming too numerous to count as your never lips parted from his. The lick along his bottom lip brought a hum of appreciation from his chest as his tongue licked over your own, tasting a mixture of you and lingering traces of his milk. One of his hands slipped into your hair, holding your head just right as his kisses lingered away from your lips, trailing to your jaw. The urge to suck hickies on your neck was natural, but he pulled back before his urges got the best of him.

He needed to remember why you were half naked on his lap, it wasn’t to seduce him. You just wanted to know what it felt like to have a latch on your nipple, not for him to fall into lust all over you. But it didn’t seem you minded, not by the whine that echoed behind your kiss swollen lips as you pouted.

“Why did you stop?” Your huff of annoyance brought a smile to his face - you were too cute, even if you were trying to sass him. Were you really that needy already? He couldn’t help but feel proud of himself.

“You said you wanted to know what your mouth felt like, right?” He had to keep you both on track it seemed. Or maybe he shouldn’t have? But he was interested in tasting your skin, let his senses take you in, having you in a way he’s never had before.

You nodded to answer him, scared to use your voice - scared you’ll sound too breathy and needy. The way he gazed over your chest had your back straightening, pushing your chest up to eye level. His hands fell from your head, sweeping down your neck and between your shoulder blades, one coming to circle your ribs as the other held the small of your back. A warm grasp cupped your breast, the action causing your skin to goosebumps as his breath fanned over your bud as his breaths grew deeper.

“Watch me.” It wasn’t often he made a command, but when the time came he really meant it. He wanted your eyes trained to him, taking in how he touched you. You obeyed, looking down at the man as his lips grazed over the bud of your nipple, making sure it was as stiff as possible, giving it a soft kiss. Blue eyes looked into your own as his mouth opened, taking the whole of your areola between his lips. It felt so warm, so different from the normal type of nipple sucking for pleasure, even as his tongue pressed the bud to the top of his mouth. The suction of his lips was a gentle tugging, pulling on your breast in a way you hadn’t felt before.

Your hands ran through his hair, stroking over his ears gently as you hummed your contentment. The feeling was so nice, it was intimate to see him so focused on your chest. For a moment you wondered how his lips would feel between your legs, making them quiver in anticipation. You thought he would have stopped after a moment, but he continued, eyes closed and lost in a world of his own.

He wished you could make milk like him, he would give anything to taste you more. Your skin was nice, he found your nipple delicious - but he wanted more. He wanted you to feel the pull and connection he did, knowing his milk was in your stomach, a part of him was with you. Somewhere in his mind he knew human women wouldn’t produce unless they were pregnant, but he could dream. Soft suckling took over his thoughts as he imagined you with a baby, in his dreams it would be his, your chest swollen leaving you in need of help he knew just how to give you.

“Giyuu..” The was you spoke his name, so airy and light, broke him from his thoughts. His eyes focused on your face, taking on your expression as his mouth broke the latch.

“What is it?” He had to wonder why you stopped him, especially when your pink cheeks indicated how much you enjoyed it. However he couldn’t seem to mind the moment you cupped your other breast, the unattended nipple hard and calling for him. The fact you were giving yourself to him, displaying your need, brought him so much pride. You wanted him, needed him.

If he were to be honest with himself he knew he was too eager as he wrapped his lips around your presented breast. He was well aware his sucking on this nipple was with more enthusiasm that the first, even as he curved this excitement. The battle was lost the moment he heard your soft moan, the sound enough to drive him wild when he heard it through a wall or door, and hearing it unhindered didn’t make things easier. His eyes peered up to your face, all while his lips never broke the seal on your breast. A quiet, almost silent, groan echoed through him. The noise was more felt than heard, the vibrations from his throat gracing your nipple as your fingers buried themselves in his hair and tugged.

He didn’t understand why you wanted to pull him away, but he obliged, watching the rise and fall of your chest as you catch your breath. Your face was flushed, hair in disarray, nipples soaked from his mouth, eyes lidded and your heart rate all over the place as you gulped down air. Was this what you looked like after you touched yourself? He liked it, he needed more - more of the feeling of your skin against his, more of your love and affection. The awkward tension that always held him back was breaking down by the moment, the need for more strong but the fear of scaring you away stronger.

You were more than frustrated, horny beyond belief as you held yourself back. So badly did you want more of him, but he seemed so uncertain. With a huffing whimper you tugged his hair again, almost mad he stopped before getting to the best part every time. You wanted him to give in, lose himself to the feeling and act without thinking for just once. But you knew he was too submissive, always being the one to do as you asked - because he wanted to feel like he had done something right, like he had pleased you. Maybe that was the way to get what you wanted.

"Giyuu…!" Your desperate whine of his name couldn't have been more clear, and you knew he got the point when he inhaled sharply at the sound. His strong hands held your waist, blue eyes peering up into your own, silently asking what you needed - what he should do for you. Leaning your body against his, your head rested against his shoulder, not minding how the leaking mess from his chest wet your breasts. If anything you had always wondered what it would have felt like and just knowing it was him left your body shuddering. "Please, I can't take you stopping anymore. I just need you. Take care of me."

It seemed as if that's all you needed to say - it was like a switch went off. Blunt nails scratched along the small of your back as he took in your words. The gasp you let out at the feeling sealed your fate. His hands pulled away the cloth along his lap, the milk soaked towel only on the way now, and pulled your hips to his own. The snug press together, separated by only the thin cotton of underwear you each wore left little to the imagination. There was no way to deny how hard he was, how dangerously aroused you made him.

It was almost unconscious how your hips shifted in his hold, rolling against his stiff length to have some friction against your throbbing clit. Your arms held on to him, slipping under his own as a quiet moan fell from your lips. Never in your life had dry humping seemed so sexy, but with him and that lean body beneath your touch anything felt charged. Even as his nipples leaked, wetting your chests and stomachs, you didn't mind. It was him, his milk on your body and his hardness you grinded on, the same thing that caused the soaking of your panties.

A strong arm crossed your body from the back, his forearm resting along the hip and hand groping your ass as the other hand dove into the hair along the nape of your neck behind your ear. His thumb massaged the skin before pressing below your jaw, urging your head to tilt back. He felt your thighs tightening around his own, the way your back arched as your head lulled to the side leaving yourself vulnerable and submissive to him for the first time. The urge to taste your neck returned, stronger than ever, and he didn't deny himself the opportunity.

With a groan his lips sealed below your ear, eagerly taking your skin for his own - licking, sucking, biting, kissing - as he followed your pulse to your collarbone. Your body felt so warm, especially against his, so wrapped in tension that you could only hump against him, seeking pleasure only he could offer you. Kisses trailed over the curve of your neck, too slow yet too fast at the same time. His groan entered your ear, his lips against the shell of it, as his hips bucked up into your own.

"So good, keep going." The words came out as a growl, not that he even regretted it in the slightest. He never thought he would actually get to feel your like this - feel the press of your body to his as you shifted on his hold for pleasure, feel the way your thighs quivered, feel the puffs of your breath that you struggled to maintain, feel how desperately your hands and arms clung to him, feel the peaked tips of your nipples along his skin, and most of all - feel your juices along his cock. You must have been dripping wet, he just knew it, to soak through your underwear and his own. It was proof that you wanted him, to such an extent as to flood yourself at an unconscious level. Just the thought sent a shiver down his spine and a pulsing along his length.

"Giyuu…!" Your head was thrown back, being cradled by his hand as your hips found just the right place to rub, the right friction to push you over the edge. He could feel it, especially as the wet fabric left little between you but the texture clinging to your skin, as your clit rubbed against the head of his hardness. The way your lower half trembled in his hold told him how much you liked this, how close you were. "I-I'm…" Your own moaning breath interrupted you. "Can I…?"

"That's it, you're doing so good for me." A kiss pressed over your ear, soft breaths laced with lust puffed over the skin as he nipped the lobe of your ear between his teeth before pulling back to watch your face. Your expression was addicting, he needed to see more, it was like none of you was ever enough for him. "Cum for me." He felt like it was a spell, how easily you let go. With just a few more ruts of your hips he heard the most beautiful sound of his life. The breathy, needy moan, laced full of pleasure right at the cusp of your climax mixed with the way your body shook in his hold was almost too much to bear. He took it all in - how your jaw went lax and your eyes rolled, the way your hips rolled against his with such passion and fervor before slowing to a stop, how your body went almost limp in his arms as you gasped for breath.

He was horny, needy beyond compare - in a way he had never felt before - but you asked him to take care of you and he refused to let you down. Gently he shifted his grasp on you, bringing your lax form against his and letting you rest against him. If anything the closeness made his arousal jump more, especially as you cuddled against him.

"Giyuu…" It was like his name was all you knew, and he didn't mind it a bit, even if your throat sounded dry from the way your mouth hung open to moan freely. His lips pressed to your temple, trailing sweet kisses down to your neck, tracing the marks he left earlier. What he didn't expect was you to move from his lips, just for you to press lazy, open mouth kisses licking over his neck in return. He gave you room, tilting his head as you needed.

The light rocking of your hips wasn't lost on him, and he was glad to see you were still in the mood considering he hadn't found relief yet. Yet he melted on the spot, both nervous and giddy in excitement as your body shifted down. Your lips graced over his collar bone, sucking the skin and nibbling it lightly to assure that you're mark was left. He was yours, always had been and always will be. The only difference is that you were his now as well, and he needed to have proof.

Kisses covered his chest, scattered lovingly with tender, delicate licks over his nipples. Still, you didn't dwell at his chest for too long, not when his hardness was pressing into your stomach and demanding attention. Moving down, your tongue lapped at his abs, kisses pressed along the landscape of his stomach. Your lips pressed to his navel, dipping your tongue to collect the milk there before pressing wet kisses along the thin trail of hair that lead further south.

It was like this was the natural thing to do, how perfectly you both moved into position together - you settling on your bottom with your legs folded under you between his spread legs, he lifting his hips as you tugged the ruined underwear off of him. His hips settled closer to the edge of the couch, mostly so you didn't have to move in any uncomfortable way, but also to allow him to lean back and watch your every action. He wanted to remember this forever, take in every little thing you did, treasure the first time you pleasure him. It didn't stop the embarrassment he felt, with his legs spread and naked before you - you could see every bit of him - and the submissive feeling returned, but his drive for more won over his nerves.

He was absolutely beautiful, pretty blue eyes gazing at you so intently, dark hair accentuating his handsome face, his toned body, his cute tail swaying along your knees from between his open legs. Your hand graced his tail, stroking it lightly with your finger tips before wrapping your hand around it. It wasn't something you even meant to do consciously, you were just gazing over his form when the soft hair at the end of his tail distracted you. His breath hitched, body tensing.

"You're really handsome, Giyuu." Bringing his tail to your lips, you gave it a soft kiss. He let out a shaking breath before the tail twitched out of your grasp, swaying slowly side to side. Without much thought you began at one knee, kissing upward just to tease him. His thighs were so warm, so inviting, you couldn't help but suck on the skin, the firm pressure causing another mark to bloom under your lips. Your eyes caught the way his hands fisted at his sides and, without a moment wasted, one of your hands found his. His grip was gentle but firm, fingers lacing between your own and taking your smaller hand into his. With your other hand free you traced up his thigh, settling on his hip close to his length.

"Giyuu…" His eyes went from your hand to your eyes, a bite to his lower lip forming at he took in how pretty you looked between his thighs. "I love you, Giyuu."

"I love you, too." It was quiet, breathy, barely over a whisper, but whimpered like it had taken so much of him just to say it. The way you smiled, happy and full of love just for him brought warmth to his chest. He loved your affections, he loved how gorgeous you were, how cute your breasts were, how pretty your lips were - he just needed more. With just a grip to your hand you got the message, but you would still do things on your own terms.

He eyes never left you, not as your body shifted and you move forward. From watching porn he had expected for you to suck him into your mouth, let him fill your throat, but reality was better - your lips pressed soft kisses on him, from his sack, which he never dreamed would be so sensitive, along his length to the tip. His eyes lidded, lip released from his teeth as his breathing grew deeper. It was just so - you. So sweet, so perfect, especially the whimper you gave him as your tongue swept over the drop of precum forming. He hoped you liked the taste because he wanted to fill your mouth.

Holding his length by the base with the hand that was on his hip, you take to wetting the shaft of him with your tongue, lapping at him until he was dripping. It was a bit of playful revenge - you could make a mess of him, too. However when you returned to the head of his length you pressed a gentle kiss to it, your lips tender against the hot flesh before taking him into your mouth, twirling your tongue around the ridge.

"Fuck…" He didn't mean to moan so sharply, but the grip on your hand increased and you knew he was enjoying himself. It wasn't easy pushing him into your mouth - he was just so thick - but your hands stroked what you couldn't fit, aided by the wetness you covered him in earlier. His hand not gripping your own dove into your hair, gently tugging to urge your attention upwards to him. Just being able to see your reactions, your cheeks so flushed and eyes lidded as they looked up to his own, made him feel like it was all worth the wait.

"I'm… I'm close…" He didn't need to tell you twice. You figured he wouldn't last a long time with such passionate humping before. With a gulp of air you pressed forward, taking all of his length down your throat as your hand at his base moved to cup his balls. Just a few clenches of your throat was all it took.

The moan of climax was undeniable, even when he tried to be quiet. His body trembled, length twitching as he emptied his seed down your throat. You couldn't count how many ropes of cum shot down your throat, only that you couldn't breath, so you pulled away to let him fill your mouth as he rested on your tongue as he coated your mouth with his seed. Maybe it was odd but his cum didn't taste bad, not nearly as salty as you had expected. However it was thick and gulping it down wasn't an easy task but you would do it for him.

He slumped against the back of the couch, feeling a pulsing wave wash through him, making him pull your hand into a white knuckle grip for just a second before going lax. His eyes closed, soaking in the feeling before your whine caught his attention. Below him, your tongue extended past your mouth. You displayed his cum, not minding as it dripped down your chin and across your chest. The sight took his breath away, the once relaxed hold on your hand grew firm, as did his length.

He brought you back into his lap, holding your face as he took in the sight of you topless, needy, with his cum dirtying you as you kept your tongue out for him to view. With the way his hips rested so close to the edge of the seat, you had no option other than to sit on his hardening length, not that you would have wanted it any other way. Again your hips rocked into his, your eyes looking into his as you wordlessly begged him for more. You wanted to feel his thick, sticky cum clinging to your walls, not your throat. Your moan of desperation was cut off, muffled as he kissed you. It was so lewd and dirty, his tongue dipping into your open mouth as his lips sealed to your own. He didn't mind the taste of his own cum, not when he got to see you like this.

His hands fell from your face, tracing down to your chest where he groped you, pinching your nipples that were still tender and sensitive from his nursing. Even when you moaned he swallowed the sound, not letting you go so easily. Still you broke free when your back arched as his hands traveled lower, on circling around your back to hold the swell of your ass under your clothing as the other flattened against your lower stomach, raising your excitement. His fingers pushed into your panties, the soaked garment pushed past your hips, letting his fingertips graze over your dripping lips. His eyes couldn't break free as he looked down, unable to see much but the hint of your slit and his wet digits.

"Please," You heaved out a strained breath "I need you…" He understood, but his muddled mind couldn't decide - should he take you on the couch? On the floor? Against the table? On your bed? There were so many options his aroused brain come up with that be would never consider normally. Your room was so far away, compared to any of the other places he could take you, but he knew inside he wanted to pound you into your bed, watching you lose yourself to him and lay with you after.

"I'll take care of you." A kiss was pressed to your temple, something sweet before things became heated. It wasn't hard getting to your room, given you were already on his lap he just had to hold your ass and take you there. Your arms and legs wrapped around his lean form, clinging to him, as if this was your natural state, as your core pressed to his hardness as he walked. When he laid you down it was more work unwrapping your limbs from hin, and you pouted and whined in need as he pulled the ruined panties off your legs.

His hands had to catch your thighs before they wrapped back around him. For once he wouldn't let you have your way - he needed to see his love in all of your naked glory. His eyes traced over your thighs, feeling his length throb as he looked between. You were beyond soaking wet, closer to flooded, as your slick juices coated your lips, the top of your thighs and excess sliding from your entrance down the crack of your ass. He held on leg behind the knee, keeping you at his mercy while allowing him to play. Thick fingers graced the lips of your heat, tracing the slick flesh up and down, barely grazing your clit and entrance with each stroke of his fingers.

"What do you want?" It was said in a teasing tone, but he never actually planned on being the one on top this far in, but if you were submissive he would do anything to accommodate your needs. A desperate cry was his answer, your back arched and head thrown to one side. That didn't give me any details, though. "You have to tell me exactly what you want, dear."

"In-inside…" This wasn't fair, how dare he tease you after you sucked him off.

"Hm?" His fingers circled your clit, following the curve of your lips lower to trace your entrance, before moving up and repeating the cycle. He wanted you to be direct, to tell him what to do, but it seemed you weren't that type. While he was planning on being the more submissive one, it seemed you fell into the role naturally. He said he would take care of you regardless, and he intended to get his commands in a different form. "What inside where?"

"Giyuu! I want you in my pussy." It sounded like a sob as you cried out for him, hips bucking up desperately. "I want your fingers, I want your dick… I just want you inside me and making me cum."

A kiss graced your lips as your compliance, your lower lip caught between his teeth as his middle finger dipped into your entrance. He wasn't sure what angle take, how far would hurt you, what felt best. Instinct drove him, pushing his finger in, going deep until his knuckle brushed against your entrance. The warmth within your walls had him moaning softly, just imagining your wet heat around his length. Pulling back from your lips, he watched his finger pull out, completely soaked, and pushed back in with another finger. You felt so tight, wrapped around his fingers firmly while giving him enough give to move and pleasure you.

His eyes watched his fingers plunge in and out of your core. You were so beautiful, so pretty thrown into lust like this - he wanted this to never end. Tentatively your hand took his moving forearm in your hold, causing him to pause and look up to your face, understanding your frustrated expression - he wasn't hitting the right spots. He focused, taking in how you moved his hand - his fingers hooked to press into your spot, palm against the lips of your cunt, the heel of his palm pressed to your clit. At your breathless direction he moved his whole arm rather than his wrist and fingers, putting more power behind each movement as his fingertips never left your most tender spot. At first he was soft, slowly moving until your body started rocking on his fingers for more. He matched your pace, moving with you until he noticed your hips went limp and allowed yourself to be rocked by his movements as he went faster.

Your reaction was everything he was hoping for - broken cries of pleasure, unfathomable gasps of words, your wetness gathering on his fingers as your eyes rolled back with your jaw falling lax. Being the one that saw you unravel grew on him, making the top position more favorable to watch you come undone by his own work rather than you using his body for your pleasure. But he was interested in your taste. You had taken his milk and cum in your mouth, he only tasted your skin at best. The thought perturbed him - he needed all of you, he absolutely needed to know what your taste was like. For now your pussy would suffice as his only source until you produced milk.

He let go of the thigh he held captured in his grip, moving to kneel as his breath fanned over your lower stomach. Parting his palm from your lips allowed him a view of your heat - pulsing around his fingers, lips glistening, clit perked and begging for attention. His lips gravitated to the bud, his lips wrapping around it and suckling as he had you nipple. The pressure of his tongue and tender sucking caused your fluids to soak his palm. With renewed rigor his fingers pressed deeper, working to take all of you in. His thick, long digits left little unexplored as he touched deeper than your own touch could.

He recognized how your thighs trembled, taking the shaking limbs as a sign to continue as your core spasmed around his fingers. Your hands dove into his hair, holding him to your core as waves of your release crashed down on you. The dramatic rolls of your hips against his face didn't bother him in the least, nor did the gush of liquids that soaked his chin and ran down his palm to his elbow. Pride filled him, leaving him more eager than ever to pleasure you. As the waves of your climax pass and he feels the clenching within you end he pulls out his fingers, slowly as if to have a lasting memory of your wet walls.

That didn't stop his mouth, using his damp fingers he pushed your lips apart to dip his tongue into your sopping core. He almost doesn't recognize the groan in the room as his own, only realizing the vibrations from his throat were felt on your lips as your thighs closed around his head. Lidded ocean eyes looked up to your form taking in how you trembled when he licked a sensitive spot within your core, how you crumbled under overstimulation when he sucked your clit.

Broken cries filled the room, some of which he could make out roughly - some his name, others begging for him to have mercy, telling him it was too much and it hurt, most just incomprehensible noises that he understood somehow. Sitting up he found a total mess along the bed between your legs. Your wetness and his milk stained the bedding, not that either of you could help it or cared to stop. Weak hands grabbed at his shoulders, his form allowing you to pull him upward. He fell into holding you, as if you both had done this a thousand times. Maybe in his head, yours as well, and the way your movements synced proved how much this was meant to be.

He laid against you, hips snug between your legs with his arousal pressed to your thigh, narrowly putting his weight to one side to avoid burdening you with the heft of his muscles. Strong arms worked their way around you, slipping between your back and the bed as you returned the efforts with worn arms. Your light hold was entirely due to your blissed out state, one he dedicated to memory as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"You okay?" He wondered if he had gone too far, but you had only cum twice. For a fact he knew you had more in you. If listening through the wall had proven anything it was that you could go far longer than him. At the same time he didn't want to over extend himself and push you.

"Yeah… Just feels really good…" Tilting your head up, you pressed your lips to his, giving and receiving pleased hums just to part with a giggle of elation. "I'm so glad. I love you, Giyuu."

"I love you, too." Just to know you were happy - with him, with this - relaxed him immensely. If you were happy then so was he. Unconsciously your beautiful smile and doting adoration caused him length to twitch, precum smearing along your thigh. He might have more than just a passive interest in your adoration, but as far as he was concerned it was probably the most mild kink he's heard of.

"I love you more. So much more, my handsome boy." You had a suspicion that the twitch on your thigh was more than just conveniently timed before only to be proven correct as a throb against your leg cemented the theory. Your only response was the feeling of dark hair brushing your cheek and breath against your neck as he hid away from the endearing words. Faintly you can feel the hairs at the end of his tail graze your legs as it sways. That cute tail always gave him away, even if he wanted to deny the blush painting his cheeks.

"I love you, Giyuu. Only you, always." Just light pressure of his hips against yours was your response, likely just resting his full weight on you where your hips met.

"You've always been so cute, so sweet and adorable. Now you're handsome, too. You've grown into the most attractive man I've ever laid my eyes on." The sound of a muffled moan reaches your ear as his hands shift to hold your waist, seeming like he was holding himself back. That wouldn't do, you wanted to see him untamed.

"I want to be with you forever, dear. You're the most precious person in my life and I want to spend the rest of it with you." It wasn't a lie, he had spent most of your life with you and you didn't want it to end, there was no reason for it to come to a close - not when your feelings are reciprocated. Your hands traced the defined lines of his back, fingers dancing along the dips of muscle and rise of shoulder blades.

"We always told mom and dad we were going to get married and have children one day. Maybe we should." A whimpering moan was your answer, along with his hips rolling into yours. His humping felt so much better like this, naked with tension rising. The underside of his length dragging along your sensitive lower lips with each thrust of his hips. He was reacting so beautifully it was hard to stop yourself. Your touch moved, one hand threading into the hair along the nape of his neck, the other resting along his lower back just to feel the way the muscles clenched as he rolled his hips into yours.

"Is that it, baby? You want to be my husband? Love me forever? Give me cute babies that look just like their cute daddy? I want it all, too." It was by honest accident you found his affection kink, but it was by coincidence you found his breeding kink. Particularly because of his groan that left your thighs quivering.

He didn't need to do much to fit within you and he struggled to keep himself in line, to not press deep into your core and mindlessly fill you. To keep himself at bay he kissed your lips, as if thanking you for the most love filled dirty talk he would ever witness, before continuing along the curve of your jaw.

"Do you like that, too? Putting a baby in me?" A bite to your neck was your answer. Hips fully bucked into yours, dangerously close to just the right push to breach your core for the greatest ecstasy. "I love you, Giyuu. I want you to fill me up. Give your love to me."

You didn't have to ask twice. The man above you was running on instinct, unable to answer in articulated words as he marked the nape of your neck down to your collarbone before moving on to your shoulder. He was too far gone to mind being embarrassed or mindful of your appearance out of bed. Some unknown part of him came alive when you gave yourself to him, awakening a need he never felt before.

With a scorching kiss it had begun. As if you weighed nothing he drug you to the center of the bed, pulling your hips into his lap while keeping his lips locked to yours. It wasn't easy, but the way you held his head to yours prevented other options, not that he would have considered another. His hands smoothed over your skin, caressing from your hips, along your stomach and cupping your breasts before coming to pinch and roll your tender buds between his fingers.

Your whimpering broke your lips from Giyuu's, not that he minded the pretty sounds you made. With lidded eyes he stared down at you, his face to his chest flushed with a heavy blush as he heaved air into his lungs. He had so much to say, so much he wanted to express - how he adored every last piece of you, how you're somehow even more beautiful than normal, amazingly sexy and still sweet - above all that he loved you. Inside he wanted to give you the sweet words you gave him he just couldn't manage verbally. Physically was a different story.

The head of his length brushed against your entrance as his hand guided it into your core. His eyes trained on your cunt, watching how your body gave way to him. Hearing your gasp his head shot up, watching your face tense for a moment. It crossed his mind for the first time that you might be a virgin, that he was actually your first. Whether you were or not you felt tight and he couldn't deny the thought of being your one and only played in his head. After all, you were his.

"You okay?" He didn't even think about it as he leaned down to check on you, but the movement pushed him deeper. Your thighs gripped his hips, trying to hold him still so you could adjust.

"You're so big…" Your breath rushed out at the admission, but it wasn't a lie. From sucking on him earlier you knew he was thicker than normal, but you didn't remember in the heat of the moment as he pushed in. He blinked in surprise for a moment, not expecting such a complaint. Regardless his ego inflated.

With a quick kiss to your lips he moved back just a moment take your legs into his hands, resting them over his shoulders. You missed his closeness, the feeling of his lips to your own, though it was hard to focus on that when his hips rolled into yours teasingly, getting a taste of feeling you. Still he moved closer, managing to seal his lips to yours as he folded you in half.

Moans reverberated into the other's mouth, one ending with a needy lilt as the other ended with a groan. He wanted to remember to be gentle with you, cherish you tenderly - but in his head he just wanted to thrust wildly into you until you were both spent. As his pace increased the echo of smacking skin grew louder and faster.

"Mine." His hands, once gripping the sheets by your head, dove into your hair. With some effort he kept his eyes open, barely at times, just to watch you. You knew it, too, from the way he brushed your hair from your face. One way or another, he was going to have all of you.

Your legs felt useless, either from his hold or the fact they were really not being used at all, thrown over his shoulders as they were. Absently you felt the velvet of his tail along your ass and lower back, giving you an idea he might love or hate. Feminine hands traced down his spine, landing on his plush ass that you grabbed freely, pulling him in and pushing him as deep as possible.

It was unintentional but you had pushed him into your deepest spot, leaving you kerning a desperate moan as your hands panicked to find something to ground you - ending up grabbing his ass with one hand and his tail with the other. Immediately he dropped his weight, laying directly on you and rolling his hips, specifically to please the spot so deep within you. He remembered you liked constant pressure from how you corrected his fingers and redoubled his efforts, giving short, fast strokes into your depths. Inadvertently his pelvis bumped into your clit at the same rate, throwing your body into pleasure. Pride ran through him as your eyes rolled back.

"That's it. You're so good." He absently realized he spoke, but feeling your squeezing in response was worth the slip. "My good girl, taking me so deep." Just to make his point he pulled back to slam into you, the force would have made you bounce up the bed if not for his hold making you take the full brunt of his thrust.

"Giyuu…!" Your wailing of his name sounded broken, the inflection of each letter interrupted by every breath he knocked out of you. "I-I… love-" He knew what you were trying to say, even if he didn't give you a chance, and the adoration laid upon him struck a new fire within him.

"I love you, too." There was a rush flowing through him as you could only moan in response. "You want me to cum inside you, right? I need you to cum first." One hand broke away from its hold on your hair, traveling down to stroke your drenched clit with his thumb, resting his palm on your lower stomach. Your shaking form was what he had intended for when he touched the sensitive bud, knowing he had you at his mercy as you struggled to nod in response.

"I-I want y-your cum…" That moment he pressed his length deep, rolling his hips to press into all the deepest spots within your core. He knew he had found what he was looking for when even your hands were shaking. "I need it-"

"Prove you want it. Cum for me." He recognized your shivers and trembles from your time in his lap, knowing it was the exact precipice before your climax took you. With a groan he pressed a kiss to your ear. "I'll fill you up with cum and give you that cute baby you want."

He would be lying if he said that last part wasn't for him was well, but it didn't seem to matter as your body seized under his, legs shaking violently as your release took hold. His hand left your clit as your spasms calmed, holding your hip as he put his entire body into the last few thrusts. On impulse, his lips captured yours, one hand cupping your face as the intense wave of his climax hit him.

Even as the rush left he couldn't part for you. Tongues lazily tangled together in a dance their own as long as he could before the need for air grew too great, but not wasting time before returning to your lips. The excessive high faded from your bodies, leaving only pleasantly tingling nerve and soft affection in its wake.

His forehead and nose pressed to your own, the timid smile hard to miss on his features as his body relaxed. With a peck to your lips he lowered your legs from his shoulders, taking care with each knowing that you were probably unable to control your lower limbs.

Sitting up straight, he smiled down at you, one of those sweet, loving expressions saved just for you since you were both children. His eyes roamed over your body, particularly your hips and stomach, before looking to your face. He was so content, so happy as his hands rested under your navel.

"I wonder if we'll get a boy or girl." He hadn't sounded so at ease in a while, even as fatigue started to make itself known.

"Maybe twins. You cum a lot." What a thing to say after something so intense, but a shake of his head and a huff of a laugh never took that serene expression from him. Reaching for his hands your intertwined your fingers with a grin. "I love you, Giyuu."

"I love you, too." He couldn't help but return the sentiment now, no matter how many times you say it. Lifting your hand he kissed your fingertips tenderly.

"Are you going to pull out?"

"No, I want to make sure it takes." He didn't miss the way your cheeks darkened at that, nor the shy smile you tried to hide before giving in and looking back up at him with the cutest blush.

"Oh, damn." Well, shit. That's surprising.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" He was searching over your body with his eyes, looking for anything out of place.

"You stopped leaking."

[belorage]

Wes for the full clear on the OC asks? 😘😘😘

— OC QUESTIONS

BASICS

What’s their full name? Wesley Daniel Brooks

What does their name mean? Why were they named that? Wesley means “western meadow,” Daniel means “God is my judge,” and Brooks means “stream.” You can find my real world reasoning for choosing his name here. As for the canon reasoning, Wesley is a family name on his father’s side and Daniel is a good Christian name. 

Do they have any nicknames? Lots. Wes is the big one (Hwes if you’re Hurk Jr.), Rook, Dep (Deputy if you're as extra as John Seed), Bright Eyes (Raf only), Sundance (Nick only), Darling (Lyra, when she’s being cheeky), and probably a handful more that I’m forgetting.

How old are they? 28, almost 29 as of the start of FC5.

When’s their birthday? November 11, 1989

What’s their zodiac sign/element/birthstone/etc.? Do they believe that holds any significance? Scorpio sun, Aries moon, Aquarius rising. Year of the snake. Birthstones are topaz and citrine. He isn’t aware enough of any of this to believe in it.

What’s their species/subspecies? Do they have any special/magical abilities? He is a natural disaster in human form. His special ability is that he somehow manages to survive that for as long as he does.

What “class” do they belong to (for fantasy characters)? If none, what weapon do they favor? A revolver (Steel & Ivory), a sawed-off shotgun (Sin Eater), or basic hand-to-hand. Close combat is preferable to range. He also uses homemade C4 in his tireless crusade against cult infrastructure.

APPEARANCE

What do they look like? He’s 6′3″, has brown-ish hair (specifically, a warm golden bronze color) and hazel eyes with long eyelashes. Fit, moderate-to-lean build. Sharp features, angular jaw, a pronounced Cupid’s bow. He has the facial hair of a man who has forgotten to shave for two weeks, because he is—you guessed it—a man who has forgotten to shave for two weeks.

Do they have a face claim? Tomas Skoloudik

What’s their style like? Clothes, hair, makeup? Casual clothing—flannels (often tied around the waist), t-shirts, henleys, jeans, boots, jewelry (gold, leather), leather jacket, cargo jacket. His hair is messy and soft, just like he is, because he doesn’t overload it with hair products unlike some people. He’s got an ouroboros tattooed around the lower part of his right forearm and (universe-dependent) John and Lyra’s names on the inside of his wrists.

How do they carry themselves? What’s their default expression? He attempts to project swagger and indifference, but to anyone who knows him and is paying attention, he’s an open book. In a comfortable environment, he’s loose and casual. His default expression is fixated if he has something to occupy his mind and distant if he doesn’t.

Do they have any physical ailments or disabilities? No, but he’s got bruises and flesh wounds aplenty! He’s got bite marks and scratches galore! You want knife-slashing scars? He’s got twenty. But who cares? No big deal. Wes wants mooooore! 🎵

PERSONALITY

What’s their alignment? Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Which one of the 16 Personality Types do they fit into? ISFP

What are their hobbies and interests? Do they have any particular “favorites” (food, books, and so on)? I answered for his favorite films and TV here, and his favorite book is Watership Down. He likes the Beatles and bar snacks and black coffee. His favorite cultists are Lyra, John, and Shaggy—please don’t judge him.

What are they bad at? Dancing!

What kind of things do they dislike/hate? Hates being controlled, dislikes very sweet things.

Do they have any vices/addictions/mental illnesses? Impulsiveness, reactive behaviors. He smokes and drinks, although neither of those are done with a shocking amount of excess. Previously, harder drugs. 

What are their goals and motivations? Freedom and acceptance.

What are their manners like? Any habits? He’s not a jerk; he has passable manners when the situation calls for them, but Emily Post would like him not. His habits are covered in much more detail here, but the big one is that he tends to busy his hands and/or mouth with things wherever possible.

What are they most afraid of? Rejection, abandonment, enclosed spaces, death (specifically, the possibility of an afterlife). 

BACKGROUND

Where were they born? What was their childhood like? Born in Hope County. He was an only child and his home life was suspect, but made moderately more bearable by his best friend. Once he realized trying to please his father was a losing battle, he said hell yeah to a downward spiral of rebelliousness and troublemaking.

What’s their family like? His dad was a jerk of the sort that would never be satisfied. Big on toxic masculinity, short on acceptance. His mother loved him, but she fell in line more often than not.

What factions or organizations are they a part of? What ranks and titles do they hold? Hope County Sheriff’s Office (probationary sheriff’s deputy), Hope County Resistance (figurehead, pot stirrer, problem magnet). 

How do they fit into their “story”? Barely. Next question. I hate to use this word yet again, but it’s the only one that fits: his story is mostly about acceptance—self, fate, fault, sorrow, joy—because as much as he desired acceptance from others, he denied a lot of it for himself.

Where do they currently live? What’s their place like? He grew up in the Silver Lake trailer park, way up on the northeastern end of Holland Valley, near the Whitetails. For the duration of the game timeline, I picture him spending more time crashing where he can—with the Ryes, in the woods, wherever—but his own place would be sparse and fairly untidy, with clothes tossed everywhere. 

How do they eventually die? Wesley intends to live forever. How dare you insinuate—

RELATIONSHIPS

Do they have any friends? Would they consider anyone to be their best friend? Within the timeline of the game, he has quite a few. Raf is his best friend (and has been since they were kids), but Nick (and Kim) are both up there. He has a soft spot for Mary May; that seems to be reciprocal. He appreciates Grace because she doesn’t ask unnecessary questions. Sharky and Hurk offer unconditional friendship, which he appreciates and sorely needs. Adelaide is the vodka aunt who thirsts after his ex. She tries to rile him up sometimes (in a myriad of ways), but he likes her. And if you account for other universes, his friend count goes way up thanks to the various and sundry brat squad kids.

What’s their friend group like? What role do they play in it? When he was younger, he was the introvert-adopted-by-an-extrovert. He was a bit too withdrawn to have friends outside of that, though he wasn’t unfriendly. For a bulk of the current timeline, his friend group is “ragtag misfits” status and he basically gets ping-ponged between them as they try—with varying amounts of success—to fight a cult.  

What’s their love life like? (See also: ship question meme.) Do they have any kids? Depends on the universe. In canon, it’s messy but becomes significantly healthier later on. His previous relationship was promising and likely would have been ideal, except that they were young and unable (or unready) to deal with the realities of their situation. In AU, he is enemies-with-benefits but also grossly in love with the Judge of Eden’s Gate and her husband (who was a fun surprise, but it’s fine, because Wes got Lyra back by giving her a gracious two-for-one deal on children)!

Who do they look up to? Who do they trust? Whitehorse is something of a father figure, though Wes would never say that out loud. For the record, neither would Whitehorse (at least not directly to Wes)—mostly for Wes’s benefit. He trusts Raf, Pastor Jerome, and the rest of his friends listed above.

Who do they hate? Do they have any enemies? Joseph, because Joseph is daddy issues incarnate. Jacob, because Jacob understands Wes well enough to yank him around like a dog on a leash. By the time the Collapse hits, everyone is his enemy to some extent (as evidenced by the adorable horns and pointy tails drawn all over his wanted posters). Notable exceptions are John, Sharky, Hurk, and Whitehorse; however, all but the first are functionally unknown to him.

Do they have any pets? Just Boomer, who is the best emotional support animal a disaster could ask for.

Are they good with kids? Animals? He’s naturally good with both children and animals, but he lacks practical experience, especially with the former (shout-out to the Ryes for finally adding that to his resume).

FUN FACTS

Which tropes do they fit? Which archetypes? Tropewise, he’s Troubled, but Cute and I can’t refute it; apart from the high school thing, it’s a full BINGO clear. He’s also Bruiser with a Soft Center, Inferiority Superiority Complex, Cosmic Plaything, Desperately Craves Affection, Hero with Bad Publicity, I Am Not My Father, and almost certainly a whole host of shameful others that I don’t dare brave the rest of TVTropes to find. Of the twelve classic archetypes, he’s some combination of The Hero and The Outlaw. Otherwise: fallen angel, antihero, byronic hero, prodigal son. 

Do they play any instruments? Sports? He can play guitar, but only at an intermediate level. He’s not big on sports, but he can ice skate and he likes to swim.

What are some items they always carry? Steel & Ivory and a lighter; later, Sin Eater. In New Dawn he carries John’s watch.

Do they collect anything? Bad decisions. Minicultists, apparently. Nothing in particular.

What position do they sleep in? His default position when he’s alone and in a comfortable place is on his belly. There are exceptions listed in greater detail here.

Which emoji would they use the most? Honestly, he’s not really the type to use emojis, but he will send his love interest pictures of things he likes or finds pretty with no context. Otherwise, his texts tend to be short, to-the-point, and lacking in punctuation or capitalization. Believe it or not, he’d much rather communicate in person. My most frequently used emojis for him are 🍰 and 🐍. (Awww, cake and snake... They rhyme. How precious!)

What languages do they speak? English. He knows a limited amount of Spanish, but he’s better at understanding it than he is at speaking it.

What’s their favorite expletive? Damn or fuck.

What’s their favorite candle scent? Pine.

What songs remind you of them? I have a playlist for him here, but it—much like him—is a bit of a mess. I also have a playlist based on his own taste in music here.

Which animal would you say represents them? Snakes, stags, swans, scorpions.

What stereotypical high school clique would they fit into? Loners or troublemakers, probably. Stoners on a technicality—he doesn’t fit the stereotype, but he does have a history. He has some of the soul of an art kid but, tragically, none of the talent.

What would their favorite ride at an amusement park be? At a real amusement park, probably the roller coasters. At something more lowkey like a carnival, he’d like the classic, aesthetically pleasing rides like the Ferris wheel or the carousel.

Do they believe in aliens? Ghosts? Reincarnation or something else? He’s not an “I Want to Believe” sort of guy, but he still can’t explain the Larry Parker debacle. He tries very hard not to believe (or at least not to think about) any sort of afterlife, because he fears it.

Do they follow any religions/gods? Do they celebrate holidays? His family was Catholic, but he endeavors not to be. He likely wouldn’t celebrate holidays as a bachelor overmuch, but he would take part in holiday activities with others.

Which Deadly Sin do they most correspond to? Which Heavenly Virtue? Pride and Fortitude.

If you had to choose one tarot card to represent them, which would it be? The Tower, The Devil, The Wheel of Fortune.

[broken-clover]

AU-gust Day 1- Fantasy

With the new announcement, I nearly forgot about this! I didn’t get a response form anyone on if I should post these here or not, so I’m gonna do it because this is my blog and I do what I want.

I guess this ended up being more low-fantasy than high-fantasy, I will freely admit I mostly just wanted an AU based on those cute halloween charms from last year. What can I say, demon Axl is adorable.

Small warning for a bit of sexual humor, I can totally understand that it isn’t some people’s kind of thing

He’s not sure why he hadn’t cleaned up the chalk outline earlier. A few of the lines had already been smudged by feet walking across it- though he knew the damage had already been done. Maybe using chalk for a summoning circle had been a bad idea in the first place. There were so many little details that needed to be drawn in for it to work properly. At the very least, it made it easy to clean up. A damp sponge did a perfectly good job in his basement-

“Chiieeeeef, we’re out of booze!”

Sol dropped the bucket with an irritated grumble, splashing more water onto the stone. “There’s a six-pack on the top shelf, I just bought it yesterday.”

He reached for the sponge, only to be immediately interrupted again. “But I can’t find iiit!”

“Y’ve got fucking wings, fly up if you can’t reach it!”

“I tried! I still can’t find it!”

“Can you just- !” Sol cut himself off, resigning himself to the idea that he’d have to finish later. Rolling his eyes, he abandoned the cleaning supplies and trudged back towards the rickety stairs. He found a hand drifting to one of the bandages on his arm to tug on the exposed tail of it. He’d noticed it was a stress habit he had picked up recently, but he just knew that there was going to be another headache waiting for him. Knowing him, his roommate hadn’t looked at all, and was just too lazy to do it himself.

Sure enough, Axl wasn’t even in the kitchen, instead draped across the couch like a lazy housecat. He arched his back upon seeing Sol, stretching out and letting his little batlike wings flap.

“‘Ello, chief! Took you forever, thought you wouldn’t come!”

Sol didn’t respond, even as he watched the man roll over into a deliberately seductive pose on his side that just-so-happened to involve his arrow-tipped tail pointing conveniently at his ass. He’d dealt with Axl enough times that he knew the best option was to just walk away and ignore him.

“Chiiiiief-!”

When he entered the kitchen, he found another annoyance waiting for him. “Ah! Just the man I did not want to see!” The frustrated tone was accompanied by a fluffy blue tail that swished back and forth. “How can you waltz in here so shamelessly!?”

“And hello to you too, wolfy.” Sol proceeded to ignore the dog-eared man as well, pulling the fridge door open. “We got any beer still?”

“For the last time, my name is Ky, you slovenly oaf!” In his frustration, he dropped the forks he’d been carrying onto the counter, along with what had to be most of the contents of his silverware drawer. “I don’t understand how anyone can live in these conditions!”

Sol rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll bite, what the hell did I do wrong this time?”

“These aren’t even organized!” Ky sounded appalled at the mere concept. “You have an organizer, but you still manage to have your forks and spoons and knives all mixed together! It’s absolute chaos! How do you know where anything is?!”

“I pull what I need out of the pile.” Even after pushing everything around, Sol couldn’t find any sight of the beer. “Where’s the Pilsner I just bought?”

The wolf-man scoffed in disgust. “The incubus drank it all last night, don’t you remember? Neither of you bothered to fold up the packaging and put it in the proper recycling bin, either!”

He let the door swing shut, and banged his head against it. This was going to drive him absolutely batshit. How did they both manage to be so insufferable in their own special ways? Ky wandered around the place constantly, criticizing how he cleaned and organized things as he attempted to make them more ‘palatable’ with his large clumsy paws. Axl, on the other hand, was an absolute good-for-nothing- well, he was good for a couple of things. Like making a godawful mess and drinking all his beer. It was just like having roommates, except they didn’t pay rent, and no matter what he did they wouldn’t fucking leave.

“Chiii-iief, did you find it?” The faint flap of wings came from the doorway, where Axl was hovering, horns nearly scraping the ceiling.

Sol felt his anger bubbling up. “Fuckin- how did you drink it all already?!”

Axl looked nonchalant. “I was thirsty.”

“So you decided to quench it with alcohol!?” Though Ky looked equally infuriated, the man found it more irritating than reassuring. “Demon or not, we need to have manners! Set an example!”

“Pfff. Settin’ an example?” In the blink of an eye, Axl had flapped over to hang off of Ky, and let his hands rest on the flesh exposed by his low-cut uniform. “Gonna tell me how the skintight leather and hooker boots are ‘classy,’ pretty-boy?”

“-eep!” The man squeaked as he was touched. His ears flattened against his head. “Get your hands off of me!”

“Both of you need to shut the fuck up.” Sol grabbed Axl by the tail and yanked him to the ground. “Well, now we gotta go to the store again and get more alcohol. And Axl, I swear to fuck if I have to go out again tomorrow, I’m sending you back to hell with my bare hands.”

He couldn’t, and they both knew it. If he had some way to banish them, he would have done it already.

Still, Axl threw his hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay, yeesh. I’ll be good.”

“Sure you will.”

“I can only do so much!” He insisted. “Two of us haven’t finished your contract yet. Until we finish what you summoned us for, we haven’t paid off the debt, so we can’t fuck around too much. Literally and metaphorically.”

Sol pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the tense muscles begin to unravel his bandages again. “Not for lack of trying.”

“Must you two be so crude?!” Protested Ky. “Perhaps I shouldn’t expect much from an incubus, but Sol, you- !” He cut off. “Um...actually, what are you? You’ve obviously not a demon like us, but…”

“He’s a hom- homon- homo- one a’ those artificial humans!” Offered Axl. He pointed to Sol’s arm, where the bandages had unraveled to reveal zigzagging stitches. “See! Never heard of ‘em drinking so much, though.”

He immediately bristled. “I’m human.” The man snarled, ignorant of how his eyes began to glow. “No matter what That Man did to me, I’m still human.”

Maybe he’d been drinking too much lately anyway, but he needed to keep his mind off of things. If he had a clearer head, it probably would have been easier to find Asuka and smash his head in for turning him into this…thing, but his mind was still reeling back from the fact that it had happened in the first place. It was the main reason why he’d ended up trying that reckless summon, when the now-permanent stitches in his skin itched and the sight of his own patchwork body made him want to puke, having a demon summoned to help him seemed like a good idea, even if it was only a lesser summon, with a few drops of blood cast onto the circle. If all lesser demons were like these two, he was definitely never trying it again. But first, he had to get rid of the ones he already had.

Sol didn’t realize he’d startled Ky, who skittered off under the nearest counter. Beastman demons still had some animal instincts, so his anger must have registered him as a predator. Hiding under the counter wasn’t the best strategy for safety, but since he’d summoned them himself, he had to deal with the soul thread tied between the three of them. Even if they didn’t cling to him like needy puppies on a regular basis, they couldn’t be more than fifty feet from each other.

“Aw geez…” When he turned in the other direction, he found that Axl had also slipped away, cramming his body into the space between the top shelf and the ceiling, all the while cradling his tail. “Some demons you two are…”

Well, now he really needed a drink. However, he also knew that he wouldn’t be able to get any further than the living room before he slammed into an invisible wall. So if he wanted to get anywhere anytime soon, it seemed like he had to play nice for now.

Sol reluctantly sighed, and managed a halfhearted smile. He approached Ky’s counter and knelt down. “C’mon. I know you like the sun. It’s good for all of us. Why don’t we go for a walk?”

His large ears were still lowered in submission. “Now you’re patronizing me.”

The smile strained into a thin line. The man tried to remain calm. “I don’t mean it like that. I’m just saying we could use a bit of exercise, and I know you like going out.”

Ky didn’t say anything, but Sol could see the way his ears twitched, trying to decide on how to position themselves. Sol tried to help him decide by placing a warm hand on his head and itching the base of his ears.

He caught the demon looking at him a moment before his expression melted into bliss, tail wagging back and forth. For all his noble composure, Ky had no trouble letting out a contented whine as he was pet. “So are we gonna go for a walk?”

“Alright, I suppose I can forgive you- ahh, right there-”

At least Ky was the difficult one when it came to compromising. The incubus tended to be much easier to deal with.

“Get down, Axl. Can’t get booze with you sulking.”

That alone already won him over, though Axl tried to look serious and unflappable as he peered down. “Y’know, I’d be less sulky with some Danny Missiles…”

Sol grit his teeth behind his smile. “Sure. Why not. I didn’t want to cook anyway.”

“Aww, I knew you loved me, chief!” In one smooth motion, Axl was already snuggling his torso affectionately, although not at all subtle about the way he mashed his face into Sol’s chest. “Promise I won’t drink everything again!”

He doubted that, but Sol could let it slide just this once. At least everyone was getting along. That was a nice feeling. He could get used to-

“Axl!” Ky shouted. “Get your filthy hand off my butt!”

...aaaaand there it went.

[robinrunsfiction]

Consider..Demon!Gerard (he’s such a sweetheart,,calls herbsugar,,darling-also super shady tho)finds the reader dying (mugged maybe?)And brings her back to life(the afterlife??)she lives with him now because thats what happens when a demon saves u ig?Anyways theyre kinda falling in love,,she falls asleep on him on the couch one night,,the next night what do u know things happen and things are said and they end up making out in their underwear in her room,, suuper fluffy,, they fall asleep

Have You Heard the News That You’re Dead?

Pairing: Demon!Gerard Way x Female ReaderRating: TeenRequested By: AnonWord Count: ~2,400Author’s Note: Hi, my name is Robin and I am physically incapable of writing a short story, but this is super super late so I hope that makes up for it! I use the prompt “Everyone has a guardian angel except you. You have a guardian demon. He deals with things in a much more violent fashion, but much more effective.” from @writing-prompt-s as my guide for this one. Also TW: for mentions of death, but if you didn’t get that from the ask, I can’t help you.

You always knew you were different. You could tell the vibe you gave off wasdifferent of that of everyone else. Dogs growled or ran away when you walkeddown the street. Old ladies would clutch their pearls. If it hadn’t been likethat for as long as you could remember, it would be alarming to say the least.What you weren’t aware of was the fact that most people had a guardian angellooking out for them, and you had a guardian demon.

That’s not to say it made you a bad person, you just had a different way of moving through life. Sure trouble found you more often than others, but you were still having a hell of a good time. That is until the night you stumbled alone out of that bar in a drunken stupor. You’d be fine you reasoned. You were always fine. Until that guy with a knife appeared and you didn’t have any money left to give him and that answer angered him, and then you were bleeding on the ground.

The last thing you saw was a man with black eyes and black hair and a pale face running up, muttering obscenities under his breath, clearly panicked. All youcould wonder was why there was no one to look out for you at that moment.

~

You woke up in a bed that wasn’t familiar in a room you’d never seen. You sat upand saw your shirt still had the hole from where you’d been stabbed, but yourskin was unbroken underneath. You had been certain you were dying on that street. Was this some kind of weird hospital? Had you been in a coma for years? What was going on?

You got out of the bed and moved quietly toward the door. As you wandered down the dark hallway, you could hear music playing. Following the sound, you found yourself in a living room, where someone, a man with black hair, sat with his back to you.

“‘Scuse me,” you started and he turned to look at you with those same black eyes you saw when you were on the street. “What the fuck?” you gasped asyou backed away. “Where am I? Where did you take me?” You demanded.

He sat down the book he was reading and strode over to you. “My name isGerard. I’m your guardian demon and for the sake of honesty, its my fault you’redead.”

“I’m dead?!” You shrieked. “Demon? Am I in hell?!”

“Not exactly. You’re at my place, which dimensionally speaking, is earth-adjacent… on the hell side. Come sit down, I’ll explain everything.”

“No! I wanna go home!”

Gerard winced. “That’s the thing sugar, this is your home now.”

Gerard had to rush to help you sit down, as your legs seemingly were not working at the moment and you looked like you were about to collapse.

“You see,” he started once you were seated, “most of you humans have guardian angels. A few of you lucky ones get us, guardian demons.”

“How is that lucky? I’m doomed to hell before I even get a crack at life?” Youargued.

“Oh you aren’t doomed, you’re destined to become a demon as well. Knowing you guarding another luck human soul until its time they join our ranks.”

“Then what am I doing here?”

“You weren’t supposed to be dead yet. I fucked up.”

“Shocker.”

Gerard descended upon you, his face inches from yours. “Oh sugar, didn’t I dowell for the last however many years? Didn’t you have a life anyone could wishfor?”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just swallowed thickly.

“I thought so,” he said righting himself. “Besides, my duty to you is not relieved now that you are deceased. We need to keep you hidden here so management doesn’t know that I-”

“Fucked up and let me die.”

Gerard glared down at you. “Exactly. But don’t worry sugar, I intend to keeptaking the best care of you. I promise you that.”

Despite Gerard’s explanation of events you still weren’t totally convinced he wasn’t full of shit. That was until he left you alone in the living area for a whileand you snuck over to the window to look out.

His apartment was a couple stories up on a busy street. But instead of the usualbustle of cars and people there were what could only be described as creatures.

Sure some of them, like Gerard, looked human, save for the black eyes, or horns sticking out of their hair. Some looked like something you’d read about in ahorror novel. You watched wide eyed as they passed along the sidewalk belowyou, going about their demonic business.

“Believe me now?” Gerard asked, startling you away from the window.

“Sure,” you said sitting down again. It was all too much to take. “But what am Igonna until my destined death day?”

“Think of it as if its one of those days you called out sick from work so you couldsit and watch hours of TV.”

“I’m doomed to watch Judge Judy and Maury forever?! I mean one day is fine, but for eternity?!”

“No, anything you want to watch, read, listen to, its all at your disposal,” heexplained.

“Will I need to do live human stuff like… eat or sleep again?”

“Totally optional,” he said. “Just like all other carnal needs.”

You just rolled your eyes and went to examine the bookshelf. Not surprisingly itwas filled with books on the occult, as well as a lot on history, art and music.

“’Bout what I expected,” you said running your fingers over the spines of thebooks, “for a demon.” When you glanced up Gerard was watching youintently and it made you shiver involuntarily.

“Help yourself to any of them. I have to go meet up with some associates. Don’tanswer the door if anyone comes around, remember, you’re alive.”

You just rolled your eyes as you pulled a book off the shelf and sat down to read.

~

You had no idea how long had passed, time being more of a human construct it would appear by the lack of clocks in the apartment. Or maybe they weren’t andGerard’s lack of time management was the cause of your current, or ratherpermanent, state of being.

Eventually you got up and watched the demons on the street for a while, then wandered through the rest of the apartment. Who knew Demons would be so sensible as to have guest bedrooms? The closet will full of clothes that seemed to be similar to the style you like while you were alive. You changed out of the shirt you died in, a thought that made you shudder, and into one that was less holey.

Moving on you noted there was no bathroom, but that made sense given what he had said about things that were “optional”. The kitchen was impressivelystocked with rich foods and fancy wines and liquors. Maybe Gerard liked toentertain? Well he wasn’t doing that impressive of a job of it right now youthought as you found yourself getting bored.

As if on cue, Gerard burst through the door. “Miss me sugar?” He askedas he breezed into the kitchen where you were still standing, feeling slightlyguilty, like you were somewhere you shouldn’t have been.

“Not really,” you mumbled.

“Oh come on sugar,” he said slinking up to you and grazing your cheek with hisfingers, “is that anyway to talk to your roommate?”

You made a disgusted noise and rolled your eyes before pushing past him.

“This is gonna be a fucking long eternity,” he muttered under his breath.

~

The thing you most enjoyed about not being alive was similar to your favorite part of being alive: sleeping. You would sleep as long as you wanted without any repercussions or judgement from others. Gerard certainly didn’t mind, as this left more time for him to do whatever he wanted since he no longer had to watch over you so closely.

Soon though he realized he missed it. He was fond of you, as he had to be based on the nature of the work, but he always enjoyed making trouble for the people who pissed you off during the day. Now he watched as a dark cloud started to gather over your waking hours, the shelves of books and movies and music no longer drawing your interest like it used to. One evening he walked into the living room to find you staring blankly at the wall.

“Novelty of it has worn off, hasn’t it?” He asked.

“Yea, and the permanence is setting in,” you sighed.

Gerard sat down next to you. “I am truly sorry. You probably don’t believe me,but its true.”

“What happened that night?” You asked as you let your head fall against hisshoulder and he moved his arm so it was around you.

“Remember that guy that was bothering you at the bar earlier in the night?”

“Yea…”

“I scared him off, that’s why he left you alone. He found someone else and theywere gonna hook up in the bathroom and I made sure that the whiskey he wasdrinking lived up to its reputation.”

You chuckled at the thought of the douche who had been talking such big game all night not being able to perform.

“I got carried away, but I’ve always hated guys like that,” Gerard admitted.“There really is a special place in hell for them.”

“Good,” you said, as you settled into him even more. A small smile tugged at his lips. “What else did you do for me?”

Gerard reclined to get more comfortable as he launched into his favorite stories of when he dealt out cosmic retribution on your behalf.

“You’re evil, but like, good evil,” you hummed as you slid down so you were laying against his chest. His arms wrapped around you protectively.

The next thing you knew you were being awakened by a hammering at the door. You both sat bolt upright and looked at each other.

“Gerard, you home?” a voice called from the other side.

“Go hide in your room,” he whispered and you hurried off and Gerard went to thedoor.

“Frank, what’s going on?” Gerard asked coolly.

“You got a hot little succubus in there?” Frank asked trying to look past Gerard.

“What’s going on Frank?” Gerard asked again, sounding more exasperated.

“Management is starting to ask about your human. No one has seen her in a while. You still keeping track of her?”

“Of course,” Gerard lied easily. “She’s just been dealing with some shit, so she’sbeen laying low.”

Frank nodded skeptically. “Just looking out for you. I’d hate to have you get fired,that would mean more work for me,” he laughed. “Besides, you know what happens when you get fired.”

Gerard nodded, trying not to let the nerves show. He remembered the last time another demon got fired. He couldn’t sleep for weeks it shook him so bad.

“Alright, I’ll leave you be, I know you got someone in there,” Frank smirked as he left.

Gerard went back to your room and found you hiding in the closet. “You’re good.”

“What’s going on?” You asked getting up.

“I’m gonna have to go topside and act like you’re still alive, or else I’m as deadas you.”

“Demons can die?”

“Not exactly the same, but it sure as shit ain’t pretty when it happens,” Gerard muttered.

“I wish I could help.”

“Not your fault, sugar,” he said as he headed back toward the front door. “I gottaclean up my mess for a while.”

“When will you be back?”

“You’ll barely know I’m gone,” he winked.

You spent what felt like forever sitting around, bored and lonely and thinking.Thinking for hours about what Gerard was risking keeping you here, and everything he had done for you your whole life. When the door finally opened again, you jumped up excitedly.

“Hey sugar,” he greeted you with a smile.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yea, we’re good for a while,” he said shrugging off his jacket. “I don’t thinkanyone will be asking questions anytime soon.”

“Good,” you said as you walked up to him and wrapped him in a hug.

Gerard stiffened momentarily, surprised by the affection, but then softened andwrapped his arms around you as well. “You decided you like me then?”

“Maybe it’s just Stockholm Syndrome, but yea, I think I do kinda like you after all. I have really did have the time of my life when I was alive, and I know you’re tothank for a lot of that,” you said before leaning up and placing a kiss on hischeek.

When you pulled back, he was looking down at you fondly. He reached up and ran his fingers along your jaw and leaned in and kissed you deeply. His lips tasted like coffee and red hots, as his arms wrapped around you and held you closer to him. You ran your hands through his dark hair and allowed his tongue to slip in against yours.

You pulled back and Gerard looked at you in confusion until you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him along back to the bedroom. He started to undo the buttons of his shirt as you peeled yours off as well. You pulled Gerard back to you again and your lips met as you tumbled against the bed. Gerard held himself over you as he undid his pants, and you slipped out of yours as well. Clad only in your respective undergarments, you continued your heated make out session, tongues moving together, hands roaming over bare skin, marks left upon necks. After what could have been 10 minutes, or maybe a decade, Gerard pulled back and looked down at you “(YN), I’ve never felt like this before,” he whispered.

“What, demons don’t do emotions?”

“Yea, but not usually love.”

You looked up at him and grinned. “Yea, I think I’d like to spend eternity here with you.”

Gerard grinned and rolled over to your side. You curled against him as he wrapped his arms around you and you both fell asleep peacefully.

[alexthegamingboy]

Toonami Weekly Recap 11/02/2019

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind EP#02 - Bucciarati Is Coming: In a flashback, it is revealed that Giorno, who was once abused by his step-father and bullied by other kids, began being treated with respect after saving an injured gangster, giving him a reason to live. Back in the present, faced with Bucciarati's Stand, Sticky Fingers, Giorno desperately uses Gold Experience to defend himself. Upon striking Bucciarati, the latter's senses to go berserk, giving Giorno the upper hand. Bucciarati creates a dimension-distorting zipper to try and escape inside another person, but Giorno tracks him down by turning one of Bucciarati's teeth into a fly, which attempts to return to his body. Given the chance to finish Bucciarati off, Giorno decides against it, instead asking to join his organization so he can defeat his boss and take over the city.

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba EP#04 - Final Selection: Two years have passed since Nezuko's transformation, and Tanjiro leaves for the Final Selection. Before his departure, Urokodaki warns him that a demon's strength is equivalent to the number of humans it has eaten, gifting him a fox mask with a protection spell. Tanjiro reaches Mt. Fujikasane, where wisteria flowers bloom all year round, creating a prison for demons. The test administrators, a pair of twins, explain that only those who can survive here for 7 days will pass. Tanjiro is soon ambushed by two hungry demons on his very first night. Using a special "Nichirin Blade" that can kill demons without risk of them regenerating, Tanjiro remembers his training and utilises Total Concentration: Water Breathing swordsmanship style, to unleash an attack that kills them quickly. However, him and another applicant come face-to-face with a huge morphed demon made out of ghastly hands. This Hand Demon promises to kill him, recognising Tanjiro as Urokodaki's student from the fox mask, and gleefully admits to murdering 13 of Urokodaki's students since he was captured by the man himself, Sabito and Makomo included. Tanjiro attacks him, enraged. Back at the boulder, Sabito and Makomo's ghosts wonder if Tanjiro can defeat their killer, having failed themselves to slice its neck. Sabito recalls that Tanjiro sliced through the toughest boulder of all of them and chooses to believe. By unleashing an array of attacks, Tanjiro successfully decapitates the Hand Demon.

One-Punch Man 2 EP#04 (16) - The Metal Bat: It is revealed that when Garou was young, he always rooted for the bad guys to win due to the good guys being too popular. When he asked his father, his father replies that the good guys will always win. Garou find that unfair to the monsters because to him the monsters were always the ones trying their best to win, but will lose all the time because they were seen as "freaks." Unwilling to accept the status quo, Garou resolved to become the strongest monster and never lose, and to change the scenario. Garou wakes up from his defeat against Saitama, with no memory of what happened. Garou meets up with Tareo and sees Watchdog Man and Metal Bat, and plans to find them. Saitama signs up for the fighting tournament, and is looking over a list of the contestants of the tournament when Sour Face, a former disciple of Bang, shows up. Sour Face plans to win the tournament to be famous like Bang, and reveals that the year before a contestant named Wolfman won the tournament. However the authorities found the real Wolfman tied up, which is why there's a new rule that if there are any participants that are wearing disguises or is an imposter, then the participant will be disqualified and banned from the tournament forever, as well as paying a heavy fee. It is also revealed that 6 months ago Garou decided that he has nothing left to learn and rampaged through the dojo, disabling many of the students, including Sour Face. Garou then received a beating from Bang and was expelled from the dojo, which also caused Sour Face to quit the dojo. When Sour Face insults "Charanko", Saitama points out that at least Charanko was brave enough to fight against Garou one on one while Sour Face quit, and vows to win the tournament which angers Sour Face. Meanwhile, the Hero Association plans to protect its officials from monster attacks by assigning S Class Heroes. King manages to get away by lying that he's fighting against a secret boss when in reality he is playing a video game. Metal Bat is forced to babysit Narinki, a VIP sponsor of the Hero Association, and his son Waganma at a Mouse Sushi restaurant in S-City instead of watching his little sister play piano. When Metal Bat receives a call from his sister, two monsters named Junior Centipede and Venus Mantrap attack Nanrinki but Metal Bat easily kills them. Suddenly, another monster named Senior Centipede attacks Metal Bat. A monster named Raffleseidon appears and puts on sleeping gases which knocks out Narinki and Waganma. Metal Bat is forced to endure many hits before hitting himself in the head, which pumps adrenaline into his system, rendering the gas useless and enabling him to kill the two Demon Level monsters with one hit apiece. Two local heroes take Narinki and Waganma when a Dragon-level monster named Elder Centipede attacks Metal Bat. During the fight, Elder Centipede knocks Metal Bat near Garou. Thinking that Metal Bat is dead, Garou plans to find Watchdog Man when Metal Bat gets back up. Garou naturally wants to fight Metal Bat, but Metal Bat wants to go back after Elder Centipede. Garou initiates the fight by attacking Metal Bat, and Metal Bat barely manages to block the preemptive blow. In the post credit scene, a martial artist named Suiryu asks two girls to lead him to the Fight tournament.

Dr. Stone Kingdom of Science Arc EP#11 - Clear World: Senku uses quartz sand to produce glass, which he uses to create glasses for the short-sighted Suika. Lacking the skills needed to glassblow useable lab utensils, Chrome brings in a skilled craftsman named Kaseki, who is able to quickly adapt to the unfamiliar substance. To break in their new lab, Senku offers to make Ginro a silver spear as part of a dangerous mission.

Fire Force EP#14 - For Whom The Flame Burns: While chaos reigns in Asakusa with Infernals appearing and people's appearance being changed at random, Konro and Benimaru argue over who should take charge. Benimaru eventually defers and gains everyone's attention. He explains what's happening, then goes after the Infernals while Konro and Company 7 attend to the fires. Meanwhile, Shinra and Arthur face Haran who has become a horned Infernal after swallowing an Infernal Bug. However, Benimaru intervenes and attacks Haran with his Ignition ability. Benimaru launches Haran into the air with his matoi to spare the town, but Arrow fires a flaming arrow towards them. Shinra uses all of his speed to intercept and deflect the arrow, allowing Benimaru to take the opportunity to use his Crimson Moon (紅月 Akatsuki) avility to create a massive explosion which destroys Haran. Shinra catches Benimaru as he falls from the sky, completely spent from the confrontation. Later, Benimaru and Obi share some sake, sealing the friendship between Companies 7 and 8.

Food Wars!: Shokugeki no Soma EP#17 - The Seductive Karaage: Arriving back home, Soma temporarily re-opens Yukihira Diner to serve his loyal customers, including his childhood friend, Mayu Kurase, who has a crush on him. He learns that the Sumire Shopping District has been doing poor business lately due to the arrival of a popular karaage chain shop, Mozuya. Wanting to help revive the shopping district, Soma decides to come up with a competing karaage recipe, calling in Ikumi as his meat expert while Mayu winds up as his taste tester. The three do some recon at Mozuya, where they find its CEO Kinu Nakamozu to be a spiteful woman, before beginning work on a karaage recipe of their own. As Soma takes Mayu's suggestion to use their shopping district location to their advantage, it is revealed that the figure behind Mozuya's success is one of the Elite Ten.

Lupin the 3rd Part 5 EP#20 - Zenigata, Gentleman Thief: Lupin, Jigen and Goemon take a trip to one of their old haunts in Russia to carry out some easy heists. To their surprise, they find another party of thieves already raiding the same targets with their old enemy Zenigata among their ranks. When Lupin talks with Zenigata, he finds that the latter has alcoholic amnesia from a massive drinking bout after another failure to catch Lupin. Zenigata has adopted the alias "Monety" and the modus operandi of his old nemesis Lupin while trying to uncover his lost identity. Unwilling to leave Zenigata in that condition, Lupin and company intercept Zenigata at the site of his next heist. When Lupin and Zenigata escape the crime scene together, the encounter finally snaps Zenigata's memory back into place, and to everyone's relief their relationship returns to its usual state.

Black Clover: Elf Tribe Reincarnation Arc EP#93 - Julius Novachrono: Marx, the Wizard King's advisor, sends word to every squad captain, ordering them to help the Wizard King. Licht's spells cause massive damage to the city, yet Julius holds back so as not to injure Vangeance's body. Julius reveals his Grimoire, which is so large with so many pages it has no cover, just an endless circle of pages around a central spine. Licht comes to believe that as he had planned to unbalance the world by eradicating humans, fate itself conspired to restore balance by creating Julius as the embodiment of order. Licht casts a spell powerful enough to completely wipe out the entire country. Julius recalls his youth as a magic knight, searching for his life's purpose, until he met Zara, Zora's father, who taught him that a true knight should serve the people. After Zara was murdered Julius grew disgusted at the way the class system kept both nobles and commoners from reaching their potential. He decided to become the Wizard King so he could help make the world a better place through the efforts of knights like Asta, Yuno and Noelle. Refusing to give in Julius uses all his accumulated time to reverse the entire country back a few seconds, saving everybody but leaving himself open to Licht who stabs him in the heart. Yami arrives too late to stop him and draws his sword in preparation to kill both Licht and Vangeance.

My Hero Academia Season 4 will air on Toonami November 9 at 11:00 pm EDT.

[s-ephiroth]

Sefikura Week [Day 6]

Theme for today was Meeting In Another World, so crossovers it is. A lot of them because I couldn’t pick just one, whoops. I hope it’s enjoyable ( o v o)b

[On AO3] || [Ko-fi]

I.

Cloud woke up somewhere he didn’t know.

Not that he recalled much aside from his own name, but the place definitely felt unfamiliar to him. A man in blue armor with a horned helmet helped him up, instructed him on the ways of the new world, took him to others who came from many other different worlds; dressed strangely to him and just as memoryless as he was.

They had all been summoned to fight for two opposing gods, the cause for their memory loss left unexplained. Simple pawns in a giant chessboard.

And then, on the peak of the conflict, Cloud met him again.

He appeared in a flurry of black feathers, leather and silver hair and Cloud just… knew. He suddenly had memories of fire, of death and conflict, fighting for his life, breaking down under that man’s touch like a porcelain doll that shouldn’t be alive, should never have been brought into life again afterwards.

(Cloud wondered if his enemy had memories of him as well.)

“Sephiroth,” he said, a name uttered with a blanket of complicated emotions covering it.

“Hn. So you remember,” Sephiroth replied, apparently undisturbed by any of it.

Cloud wasn’t sure he wanted to remember.

II.

He found himself in the strangest of the places, a big room with a weird apparatus in the center. Somewhere that wasn’t home, with three people dressed in a strange manner.

Sephiroth wasn’t there.

Regardless of it, Cloud could feel him, poking inside of his head and calling him to a place he couldn’t go to; the heart of a Planet he apparently wasn’t even on. He felt his fingertips tingle with the very impossibility of Reunion.

“The heat!” He shouted in pain. “Inside my head... No, stop... Sephiroth— no!"

Either come here or stop calling me to you.

Someone was saying something about him being unstable, but Cloud couldn’t focus. He had to leave, had to go somewhere, anywhere, where he couldn’t be reached by Sephiroth’s powerful influence over him or else, those people, those strangers… they could be in serious danger rather soon.

In that world, he eventually found out, there was a flower girl too. She was just like his friend, but she couldn’t recognize him.

III.

Leon told him, once Cloud had the courage to tell him his own story, that he was an idiot for engaging in such a quest.

Cloud’s wing twitched but he said nothing to that accusation, for two things: One, it sounded a weird plan even to him and two, he was mostly sure that it’d work, that he’d be able to get some answers while also solving a big problem.

It was an idea he’d been unable to shake off his head even since he started remembered the occurrences from other worlds, other times, with perfect clarity. It was part of why he’d sealed a pact with Hades, hoping that it’d pull Sephiroth out of hiding and into fighting him so they could deal with their long lasting personal issues for once and all.

Only when he felt the Masamune's blade resting dangerously against his throat and soft feathers brushing against his arm as Sephiroth dragged him away, — in front of his friends, nonetheless — he realized how wrong he’d been about that.

IV.

Cloud would have laughed, if only he wasn’t in pain and lacking that much control over his own body.

I was thinking about fighting you, not about ending up in a bondage session.

He knew Sephiroth could hear his thoughts through their connection, knew the man was grinning when he touched his face gently, getting closer to him to whisper something against his ear. It provided Cloud a strange feeling to be distracted with as he kneeled there, useless in his bonds of swirling dark clouds.

Cloud was starting to grow tired of that kind of encounter, which ended with him being stolen away from his companions and to somewhere else within the time it took someone to blink.

“Now, would you care to tell me why you keep ending up in other worlds?” Sephiroth asked in a mocking tone. “Do you think it’ll stop me from tracking you down? Hn, puppet?”

“Not your puppet,” Cloud said, as he managed to react to that, unsure if it’d been out of his own will or because he was given permission to do so.

“Keep saying that, while I pull your strings.” There was that laugh again, echoing as Cloud’s will was taken into full control again, in recognition that there would be no answer to that question anyway.

Oh, well. Sephiroth would find other uses for him.

V.

When that kid — no matter if he had told him he was a… what was that he called his job again? A record keeper? Cloud still considered him a kid, anyway — approached their group again to inform them that they’d be going in a special painting to retrieve some things and a couple adventurers, Cloud thought nothing strange about it.

Surely, the magic painting acting as a portal of sorts was one that depicted his world and of course he was looking forward to seeing old companions who had traveled with him in his journey, who shared precious memories with him. But still, he didn’t think all that much of it, constantly afraid something would definitely happen if he celebrated a little too much.

He watched as the others celebrated Tifa’s arrival in that way he was avoiding to, waving his simple “hello” at her, still unsure if it was a good thing that they had been taken away from their original conflict to fight another. (Again, as he could recall it.) She’d thrown herself at him for a hug, happy to have a friend she knew in that strange situation.

The Black Mage who had been traveling with them decided to head back to the Royal Archives — the headquarters they all ended up at after exiting such paintings — so they could carry on. It wasn’t safe to travel in groups with more than five people, he’d learned.

They faced an enemy only those with magic could reach and Rufus. He didn’t remember his original fight against the Shinra heir feeling so difficult as that one did. Thankfully, it was the last battle to deal with inside the painting.

After the dust of the conflict settled down, mako green eyes met his.

Oh no, not here, not again.

“Hello, Cloud.”

Cloud turned on his heel and walked away.

VI.

“Our goals no longer differ,” Sephiroth said from somewhere behind him and it felt as though the man was closer to him than he really was, “After all this time I thought it wouldn’t happen.”

Cloud didn’t turn to look at him, staring at the town from a privileged spot atop the Archives. He heard a sound break the silence, a rustling of clothing and something metallic against what he supposed was Sephiroth’s belt.

He had appeared without the Masamune and despite the kid and the moogle’s efforts, it hadn’t been retrieved. They gave him a little dagger just so Sephiroth could fight, which Cloud found more than simply amusing. Sephiroth’s expression of disgust mixed with gratitude would be forever engraved in his mind; something to laugh about whenever the times grew too dire.

“So you remember, too? The other worlds?”

“I do.” Sephiroth’s voice sounded even closer, then. “That wing looked rather good on you.”

“I still don’t get why it keeps happening,” Cloud said, choosing to ignore that… thing Sephiroth had for wings, just so things wouldn’t get more awkward than they already were, “This uh, thing, in which we keep popping up anywhere except back home.”

Sephiroth sat beside him with a quiet hum, causing Cloud to finally turn to look at him; a question bothering him, no matter how silly it seemed.

“You lost a bet or something?”

He turned his gaze away as Sephiroth chuckled warmly, gave a negative reply to his inquiry and chuckled some more. A leather clad hand took Cloud’s own, squeezing it just gently. He felt his nemesis — now an ally due to the circumstances of that world — move a little closer to him, leaning in to whisper something.

“If I had lost a bet, I think I’d have ended up on your bed, naked. And we wouldn’t fight because you’d just accept it at this point, wouldn’t you?”

“Or... I’d push you out of my bed, for all the shit you pulled on me,” Cloud shot back, biting on his lip to keep the effect of Sephiroth’s breath near his ear well hidden.

“You’re too good to do that to anyone, Cloud.”

His teeth grazed Cloud’s ear, stealing with it a bit of composure.

“Y-you’re an asshole.”

“Maybe. Now, let’s just enjoy this truce a little, shall we?”

Cloud had a feeling that he’d wake up somewhere he wouldn’t remember getting to, again.

[oppatxtme]

Ok TaecYeon: Just Your BestFriend

x Ok TaecYeon x

A/N: Hello there friend ~ this is an out of the blue idea so it’s a short one and sorry if you’ll find some wrong grammar and all. I hoped you all enjoy and I will try my best to post more scenarios and update early ~ I have a bunch in my drafts but failed to continue and post it yet.

Keep in mind that English is not my native language so there might be some spelling and grammar error. Sorry for my lack of talent and I promise to work hard on this. Thank you and please enjoy. Any feedback is well loved. <3

By any chance, did you ever fell for that one person your close too besides your family or relatives? Yes, I'm talking about your BESTFRIEND. Fell? Scratch that, what I mean is, did you fall in love with your bestfriend? That you knew you are screwed since you'll have to suffer on a one-sided love? Because I do..

 It all started when you and Taecyeon attended the same school since junior high. You're both transferee and grow up in the state so the both of you accompanied each other while trying to blend into the new culture. But even then, people around the two of you already notice how PERFECT we are for each other.

  But we both laugh it off. We're both too young to give a damn on that matter. Because all we can do at that time was to pass every exam we came across.

  "Y/N! What's taking you so long? Let's go. The bus will leave us!" Taecyeon shouted at you as he's already walking ahead of you in the hallway of your school building as you busied yourself looking something in your bag.

  "Wait! I forgot my watercolor under my desk." You need to get it because you promise your brother to help him on his art assignment.

  "Just wait there, I'll get it." He said while he runs towards your classroom.

  You heard the school bus honking its horn to the both of you, signaling that the two of you better hurry up or they will leave without the two of you.

  A couple of minutes pass, Taecyeon came running towards you. The watercolor on his hand.

  "Here," as he handed it to you.

  "Thanks, Taec but what are you smiling at?" confused on how he smiles towards you.

  "Just because..." he murmured something but you failed to hear it clearly since you heard the horn coming from the bus instead. Then he runs off.

  "What did you say?" you tried to ask him again while trying to run along with him.

  "Run faster or we'll be both walking home dumdum," he said as he grabs you by the arm and pulling or more of dragging along while the both of you tried to catch the bus.

  That happened like what, 3 years ago? The both of you grow on each other's side and became real bestfriend. The both of you are so tight that the both of you decide to go to the same university even tho the both of you took different courses.

  You knew him like he knew you, except on one thing - you're in love with him and he doesn’t have a clue about it.

  You don't know how and when it started but you just wake up one morning and boom - he gives you the butterflies and flustered every now and then.

  You tried everything to remove him in your system since you knew that it will be hard to go on if your feelings stay. You even busied yourself in club activities just to lessen the time you'll be spending together. But you failed miserably. And he keeps on appearing everywhere you go.

  Even before, Taecyeon always stands out from the rest of the guys. Well, given that he's really tall and he has that memorable set of a smile. In short, he is still the popular guy even in the university you're both in.

  And you? You're still that nerdy girl next to him every time, his ultimate bestfriend. But even so, you don't give a damn about what they label you. What matters to you is how Taecyeon sees you, and that is being his bestfriend. The fact hurts, but at least that keeps the both of you tight.

  And besides, it's fine. Since you haven't confess your feeling to him. And you don't plan at all. Because it's better to be his bestfriend forever, rather than to be one of his ex-girlfriends in the future. You just need to deal with your feelings alone.

  Until the doomsday came.

  "Baks!" you heard Teacyeon called you.

  'Baks is the pet name the both of you given to each other that means the both of you have each other's backs.'

  You got surprised when he just hugged you from behind when you didn't respond to his call. And because of that, you felt your face heathen.

  "What do you want? And don't just hug me like that," you said as you tried to remove his arms - that you really don't want to - as you turn around to face him.

  "What's the problem with me hugging you? You're my bestfriend after all."

  'Ouch!'

  "Whatever," you said as you glare at him and turn around to hide the pain you just felt. But he suddenly grabs you by your arm to face him again.

  "Aigoo ~ don't tell me you're all upset about that?" you avoid his eyes because you're afraid he might discover your true feelings towards him. "That settled it," he said then he holds your hand and pulls you.

  "What? Where are we going?" you asked all confused.

  "Where else. To your happy place. Mcdo." he declares while he shows you that smile of his.

  "Are you insane, I have class." you tried to pull your hand from his but he holds it tight.

  "Same here, it will be fine. One skip won’t hurt our grades," he said in an assuring tone.

  The both of you are now standing in front of the counter.

  "Good day Sir, what can I get for you today." the cashier greeted Taecyeon happily. You just rolled your eyes when you knew there's flirtation included on that.

  "Just two order of large fries, two chocolate hot fudge and one caramel." He knew what’s your favorite since it's the same as his.

  "Caramel? But you don't like it, so why order?" you asked him while the two of you are waiting on the side for your orders. "Haiiish," as you pinch him at his side.

  "Yah!" he protests.

  But you just glared at him when he plans to get back at you.

  "It's not for me Baks, it's for Charline ~"

  'Charline?! Who on earth is that? Even just by the  name itself you already hate her.'

  "Who?" you asked.

  "A special girl," he said while he carries the tray to a vacant table and you sit across him.

  "Sp-special?" now you're surprise and intrigue. Taec had few ex-es and every time he describes them to you, he never uses that word. Since you thought you are that one girl besides his mom and sis for him was SPECIAL.

  With that thought of despair, you didn't notice that Taec is watching you.

  "What? Are you jealous?" you know he was just teasing you. So you just stepped on his foot under the table.

  "You wish," you said as you dip your fries in the hot fudge and eat it. In that, you can't find any taste of sweet coming from the hot fudge but only all the salty-ness coming from the fries.

  Just thinking that Taecyeon might find his woman - that you hoped and prayed that might be you - the doomsday of your life indeed.

  "Oh, she's here," he said while looking pass behind you.

  You turned around to see this 'special girl'.

  'Shit! Talk about being special'. You swallow hard. You looked at the lady from head to toe as she walks towards your table. All you can think was the girls from the latest Victoria Secret FS. Charline is one hell of an angel for sure.

  As she finally reaches the table, Taecyeon stands to move the chair beside him for her to sit.

  Watching how gentle Taec towards her is killing you and now looking at them beside each other - Damn - you want to go home and cry a river.

  She smiled at you, and you smiled back at her - wishing that she doesn't notice that it was a force one.

  "Hi, Y/N right? Oppa told some interesting thing about you." you silently curse in your mind. Because her voice is full of aegyo - that really suites her that you have another reason to cry over.

  'Well, he hasn't mentioned you to me at all.' you thought.

  You tried to glare at Taecyeon but he focuses on the food in front of him. You can feel that the smile plastered on your lips is getting stiff with all this bad idea running in your mind.

  You lose big time, but then again, you lose in a fight that you knew was no chance of winning since you kept all the feelings inside you.

  "Is that so, well I hope it was all good things."

  "Oh, it is I assure you that," she said while she picked some fries and dip it on the caramel sundae.

  'I really hate caramel.'

  "Baks, I think I need to go. I need to catch my next class. It was nice meeting you Charline." you said as you grab your bag and stand.

  Taecyeon also stands.

  "I'll walk you," he said while wiping his fingers.

  "No need. Just stay here with Charline. She just got here and just finish eating."

  'Yes please, I beg you please come with me and just leave her be.'

  "Okay. Be careful on your way." he just said and sits beside her and continue eating.

  You just tilted your head to the side, you can't believe that he just let you be. That he doesn't even insist.

  The rest of the day went slow and draining. The moment you reached your house, you hit the showers as you let all the tears that you've been holding too long.

  You let yourself cried over Taecyeon, that one-sided-love you have for him. You never hated the idea of being just his bestfriend until today. Not until Charline is in front of you. And hell she was way far from you. You don't stand a chance even if you tried to fight for him.

  Fight for him? What for, you will just fight for a losing battle. You knew it from the start, you knew that this day will come. It's freaking hurts but you can't blame anyone but yourself for letting yourself fall in love with your bestfriend.

  The next morning, by using a concealer and wearing your reading glass, you tried your best to hide your fluffy eyes. The side effect of crying too much before sleeping.

  You knew it was useless, but still, you tried to avoid Taecyeon all day. And the day becomes week, two weeks and just a few more days and it's almost a month when you notice him standing outside of the classroom you're in.

  There's no way to avoid him, you tried to look down while walking passes him. But he's watching you even before and he will not let you pass that easily.

  He blocks your way that causes you to stop and look up to see his face. Anger is visible on his face and that made you swallow hard.

  "Are you avoiding me Baks? What's your problem?" you avoid his gaze as you tighten your grip on the folders you're holding.

  "I need to be somewhere Taec," he was surprised that you just ignore his questions, it was the first time. And by that, you walk past him without him stopping you.

  "Later, after your last class, I'll wait for you at Ayumi Park. Okay Y/N? I will introduce you to my girlfriend. Did you hear me Y/N?! If you are really the besfriend I knew then you will surely be there." He shouted from your back.

  You wanted to stop and face him, but you're afraid to lose yourself once you stayed too long around him.

  "You're really stupid Taec, but what good am I?" you whispered to yourself as you walk away.

  You're on your last subject. And 10 minutes more, the bell will ring indicating that the class has ended. But you wished to not hear the bell and just continue with the class. Because up to now, you are not sure if you should go to Taec just to meet his new girlfriend.

  5 minutes left..

  'Aish, what the hell ~' you thought as the sound of the bell surrounds your ear. You gather your things and walked outside walks towards Ayumi Park.

  You reached the park without problems. You check around and no sign of Taecyeon. You sigh.

  "Oh, you're here.." Taecyeon said coming from your behind.

  As you turn around to face him, you close your eyes to at least prepare yourself that Charline might be with her. But as you open your eyes, he was alone. And what's more troubled you was Taecyeon's wearing a suit with matching tie.

  From head to toe, he was all formal attire. 'Is he proposing to Charline here and decided to tag you along? He better not or I swear Imma kill someone.'

  "What's with that getup?" you tried to let out a laugh to just lighten up the atmosphere between the two of you. "And where is she, your girlfriend I mean. You see I just drop by since I need to be home early."

  He didn't say anything. He just looked at you. Then he starts walking closer to you. When he was a few steps away in front of you, he handed a box.

  You're not sure but you took it and dumbfoundedly looked at him when you saw what's inside the box.

  "What is this for?" You asked him while you took out from the box was a set of watercolors.

  "Don't you remember what I said to you before regarding those watercolors?" he said while a smile forms his lips.

  "Hah? I don't get it."

  "Well, that's your fault for ignoring what I said to you back then when you forgot your watercolor in our classroom."

  And with that, you remember what he was talking about.

  "Now I remember, but do you mind explaining further? And where is this girlfriend of yours that you want me to meet?"

  You got surprised when he suddenly walks closer and hold both arms. You tried to step back to put some distance between the two of you but he just walks closer again.

  "Do you really not remember what I said to you that day?" you shook your head. "That day, what I told you was; Before I met you, I was a blank canvas but meeting you, you are like these watercolors that colored my life every passing day."

  You're still confused with what he was saying but you can't help the tears escaping your eyes. And mentally cursing because you are hoping for him to love you but you knew that was impossible because you are there because he said he will introduce his girlfriend to you.

  "For Chrissake Taec, stop that and just introduce me your girlfriend already or I might lose it." You manage to shove his hands off your shoulder.

  "What are you saying Y/N? Do you still not get it? Since even from the very start, it was always been you and me."

  The last words he said struck you like lightning.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Don't you get it? What I'm trying to say is that I love you since I took that watercolors out from our classroom way back in our junior high." he walks even closer to you and cupped your face. "I just can't directly say it again to you because, maybe, just maybe you don't feel the same and I was afraid to lose the friendship we have."

  Now it all syncs to you. And what you did next made him scream like hell, because you just pinched him good at his side.

  "What's that for?" he asked.

  "Sorry, I just want to make sure that this wasn't a dream."

  He laughs and that made you smile and relief that this really happening. Then you lightly punch him in his chest.

  "You're crazy. You don't know how hard for me as well to hide my feelings for you, I was afraid as well. Giving the fact that you're popular ever since and I was 'just your bestfriend' a nerd one too. So you knew where I'm getting at right?" then you remembered about Charline. "Then what about Charline?"

  "What about her?" he asked you back.

  "She's your girlfriend, right?"

  He didn't answer you but he let out a really hard laugh as if he was teasing you. With that, you punch him again.

  "I'm sorry, but you said Charline is my girlfriend?" you nod. "What gives you that idea Y/N? Oh ~ that special girl?" again you nod. "Haha! Aigoo ~ she was special because she was the only girl cousin I have on both sides. She's just my cousin Y/N."

  Hearing that, you literally stoned at where you stand. Embarrassment took over your body. You knew that your face was all red but hell you care so you just closed your eyes hoping to just erase what you thought about Charline. 'I felt bad now, after cursing and thinking bad about her.'

  Taecyeon saw you and can't help but laugh as he prison you from his embrace. He planted small kissed on the top of your head as he tightens his arms around you. He was definitely happy that this day came. The day he can be more than just your bestfriend.

  "So, does this mean we're in a relationship?" you said all of a sudden, still can't believe what just happened.

  Taecyeon loosens his hug just enough to see your face.

  "I mean, I'm not just your bestfriend but your girlfriend as well - right?"

  "Aigoo ~ what gives you that idea Baks? Of course, you're still just my bestfriend." he said while a playful smile plastered on his face.

  "What?" you looked puzzled and worried.

  "That's because you haven't said the magic word just yet.." Taecyeon winked at you.

  "Magic word?"

  "Yup. That three words."

  Your lips formed an 'O' shape when you understand him.

  "So?" Taecyeon asked.

  "What?" you respond, pretending you still not get it.

  "What what?" he was laughing but worried.

  "You want me to say it?"

  "Well, kinda, if it's not that much of a trouble to you since I really put an effort for this day to just hear it from you," he said as he gesture to you what he was wearing.

  "Okay then," you said and he smiled, waiting.

  "I - thank you!" you said then it was your turn to laugh at him.

  "Yah!"

  "I will say it after you - catch me." then you run fast around the park.

  Taecyeon didn't take long to react and started chasing you.

  And that's the day you and Taecyeon were freed on the 'Just Your Bestfriend' label.

[aion-rsa]

The Best TV Comedies of 2020

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Have we ever been in more need of a laugh than in 2020? Amidst a historic global pandemic, a tumultuous American political election, civil unrest, wildfires, MURDER HORNE… alright, you get the picture. 2020 has been the pits, man. Thankfully, this year from hell featured some bright spots on television, even if rays of sunshine were sorely lacking in reality.

If the shows on our list weren’t making us laugh, we would have been ugly-crying since March. While we were all locked in our homes, we got reacclimated with the Warner Brothers (and sister), said goodbye to BoJack Horseman, and met regular human bartender Jackie Daytona, making quarantine a bit more bearable, if only in 30 minute increments. From brand new series like How To with John Wilson, to swan songs for Den of Geek favorites like Schitt’s Creek, TV comedies in 2020 kept us cackling through the chaos.

To determine the best TV comedy of 2020 in a particularly stacked, diverse year, we polled 12 Den of Geek staffers and contributors. Below, you’ll find our honorable mentions and our list of the series most likely to raise your mood in the darkest year of our adventures.

Honorable Mentions

The following shows received votes but just missed out on the top 20: 

Ramy, Never Have I Ever, Feel Good, The Great, Avenue 5, The Duchess, Staged, Famalam, Inside No. 9, Ghosts, The Shivering Truth, Bob’s Burgers, Katy Keene

DEN OF GEEK TOP 20 COMEDIES OF 2020

20 – Big Mouth (Netflix)

How long can a show about puberty, a very specific time in the life cycle, remain viable? Well based on the fourth season of Netflix’s animated comedy Big Mouth, just about as long as it wants to. Big Mouth season 4 succeeds by finding new avenues to delve into the psyches of its young characters going through chaaaaanges. In the process it also finds ways to expand its storytelling capabilities, delving into issues of trans youth, code switching, and anxiety. Through it all it remains as hilarious, and disturbingly vivid, as ever. – Alec Bojalad

19 – The Eric Andre Show (Adult Swim)

It’s not like Eric Andre reinvented the wheel or anything with the fifth season of his anarchic, absurdist talk show. If you were never a fan of anti-comedy that centers heavily around duping random people on the street, gross-out gags, and the torture of unsuspecting guests, then you’re not going to start liking it now.

However, for those of us already onboard The Eric Andre Show train, it’s no small feat that, five seasons in, this is still one of the funniest shows on TV. You’d think by now Eric would’ve run out of guests who have no idea what they’re in for, but, no, there’s an all-new batch of naive celebrities whose lives are effortlessly worsened by Eric, his crew, and his new house band. You’d assume he couldn’t prank people on the streets of New York City and Newark, New Jersey anymore because he’d be recognized by now, but, no, he pisses off a lot of people and breaks a lot of other people’s brains with ever-inventive, bizarre, obnoxious pranks. 

Finally, you might think the series would suffer irrevocably from the departure of co-host Hannibal Buress only two episodes into the season, but Eric demonstrates he’s more than capable of spreading chaos all on his own (though he’s sometimes assisted, alternatingly, by a Hannibal clone named Blannibal, comedian Felipe Esparza, and Screen Actors Guild Awards nominee Lakeith Stanfield). Season five is the same The Eric Andre Show as it ever was, but that still makes me laugh harder than anything else on television right now. I’d be happy for Eric to keep making this show forever. – Joe Matar

18 – Saved by the Bell (Peacock)

A Saved by the Bell reboot shouldn’t have worked. But as Peacock’s recent series showcased, with the right creative team and angle, you really can successfully reimagine an outdated but beloved ’90s teen comedy for 2020. Working as both a soft reboot and sequel, this is meta-comedy at its best. Saved by the Bell is fully aware of what made the original special and why they don’t still make shows like it now. Juxtaposing those two competing views through the lens of the privileged and perfect Bayside kids and the new normal students makes this an accessible and seriously funny series with a biting humor rarely seen in teen comedy. – Rosie Knight 

17 – Everything’s Gonna Be Okay (Freeform)

Australian comedian Josh Thomas brings his off-kilter sensibility to a loving and sharply funny portrait of a modern family in Everything’s Gonna Be Okay. In the pilot, Thomas’s character Nicholas, a gay twentysomething from Australia, visits his father in the US and learns that his physically and emotionally distant dad is dying. Things really pick up as Nicholas steps up to care for his two teenage half-sisters, Matilda (Kayla Cromer) and Genevieve (Maeva Press), while also trying to date, and manage his melodramatic mother from the other side of the planet. 

Matilda especially comes into her own as she hopes to go to college away from home next year— something others doubt since she’s autistic. Her autism is a reality that becomes part of the fabric of the show, a setup rather than a punchline. Few shows would include a teenage threesome that manages to be funny, heartfelt, and matter-of-fact, but in Matilda’s world, sex (and exploring her sexuality) are often all three. Everything’s Gonna Be Okay is a family show that acknowledges the realities of family: death, disabilities, teenage girls with sex drives, and laughter at funerals. – Delia Harrington 

16 – Star Trek: Lower Decks (CBS All Access)

Created by one of the writer/producers of Rick and Morty, it’s no surprise that the first episode of Lower Decks involved some pretty broad humor and wildly out of control situations. The producers of the 1970s Star Trek: The Animated Series understood the creative potential of animation when they replaced Ensign Chekov with a giant cat, and Lower Decks follows suit, the pilot giving us blood, guts, gore, zombies and a giant spider, all in Rick and Morty’s madcap tone.

As the show has developed over its first ten episodes, though, it’s become something more than that. The knowing humor is a delight—the focus on things like “second contact” (the less glamorous setting up of diplomatic relations after first contact), ascensions to a higher plane of existence gone wrong, and re-visiting half-forgotten alien races like the Pakleds shows the same sort of gently teasing love of the franchise that Galaxy Quest did. But the characters have also developed into real, complex people to the point that a character death is genuinely moving, and the audience are really able to care about what happens to these essential cogs in Starfleet’s machine next. – Juliette Harrison 

15 – Solar Opposites (Hulu)

A big part of what makes Rick and Morty so great is that, in addition to all the sci-fi hijinks, there’s meaningful development of the show’s characters and world. Unfortunately, as the series has progressed, this is also what’s dragged it down. As Rick’s nihilism has increasingly alienated the people around him, a lot of the fun has been lost. The show still puts out the occasional brilliant episode (for example, the season four finale), but it almost feels like all the characters on Rick and Morty straight-up hate each other and watching it can be kind of a drag sometimes.

It’s such a treat then, to see all that fun sci-fi silliness rebirthed in the form of Solar Opposites, co-created by Justin Roiland and Mike McMahan (Rick and Morty co-creator and writer/producer, respectively). Making good use of all the storytelling lessons they learned from their other sci-fi cartoon show, the two have released a confident and consistently funny debut season. Though it feels awfully similar to Rick and Morty at first blush, it has more in common with classic sitcoms, with its focus on goofy, self-contained plots about the alien family at the show’s center. However, the series shakes the sitcom formula up a lot with a surprising dedication to callbacks and continuity, most notably exemplified by the continuing, dramatic tribulations of a community of people who have been shrunken down and forced to live in the aliens’ multilevel terrarium. The combination of madcap sci-fi alien plots contrasted with the trials of the melodramatic dystopian shrunken-people world makes Solar Opposites one of the most inventive comedies of the season, and I’m excited to find out where it’s going next. – Joe Matar

14 – Dave (FX) 

There are countless hip-hop artists whose backstories would make for compelling television. So why did FX choose to spotlight a goofball white rapper from the suburbs with a mediocre penis joke for a stage name? It takes only one episode to realize any preconceived notions about Dave, based on the life and rap career of Dave Burd, aka Lil Dickey, should be spit from your silly mouth faster than Lil Dickey spits bars on a freestyle. 

A telling sign that Dave was going to be a sleeper hit was the involvement of co-creator Jeff Schaffer, a longtime EP and writer on Curb Your Enthusiasm and the creator of FX’s The League. Together Schaffer and Burd mapped out a first season that sees Dave navigate the early stages of his music career with a level of narcissism he believes is needed to be taken seriously in the rap game. But the series also shows another side of Dave, self-deprecating in a surprisingly endearing way, rarely swayed by what others think, and frustratingly true to himself and the path he sees for his life. This is FX’s star vehicle for Burd, but the show manages to make him the center of the universe while still developing key players in his life as the season progresses, giving each character an affecting spotlight episode. The standouts include episodes about Dave’s real-life friend and hype man GaTa and his struggles with bipolar disorder, the evolving managerial relationship with his roommate (Andrew Santino), and how sudden fame begins to erode a once promising relationship with his girlfriend, Ali (Taylor Misiak). 

Already renewed for season 2 and a ratings hit with FX/Hulu reporting high streaming numbers, Dave is no longer an underdog and will carry a new set of expectations as the titular character’s career ascends. If you’re still a skeptic, you need to adhere to television’s golden rule when it comes to Dave: Don’t judge it until you binge it. – Chris Longo

13 – Brooklyn Nine-Nine (Fox)

At only 13 episodes, Season 7 was the shortest season yet of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, but it packed a lot into those 13 half-hours. With Melissa Fumero pregnant in real life, the writers used this to cover six months in series by following Jake and Amy’s attempts to conceive a baby, helping those limited episodes to feel like they were filling out more time. The show has also struggled to work in its annual Halloween Heist episodes since moving to NBC and being put into a winter start slot, but in 2020 Rosa managed to triple her victory by engineering Heists on not just Halloween, but Valentine’s Day and Easter as well.

Season 7 aired too early to deal with the Black Lives Matter protests that dominated the summer of 2020, but the writers have already pulled all their planned scripts for Season 8 and re-written them in light of those events, so that is yet to come. 2020 had a little bit of everything that makes B99 great—a dose of Pimento, Jake and his daddy issues, Holt’s adorable corgi Cheddar, and one final appearance from his nemesis Madeline Wuntch. For once, the season didn’t end with Holt somehow being removed from his job as Captain of the 99, but there’s still plenty to look forward to in Season 8—maybe 2021 will be the year that Charles Boyle finally wins the Halloween/Valentine’s Day/Easter/Cinco de Mayo Heist? – Juliette Harrison

12 – Animaniacs (Hulu)

Rampant remakes and sequel reboots have turned into the norm, but streaming services have especially embraced this idea as a way to anchor a library of programming. These endeavors are extremely hit or miss, but Hulu’s revival of Animaniacs is one of the few exceptions that feel justified for a return. Animaniacs always functioned as a radical cocktail of perversions of pop culture and classic comedy and 2020’s Animaniacs actively thrives with decades’ worth of new material to lampoon. The series has stripped itself back to its basics and temporarily removed most of the old supporting players, except for Pinky and the Brain, but this allows Animaniacs to build itself back up and establish new recurring characters and segments.

There’s such clear joy present in Animaniacs, whether it’s from the voice actors, the creative staff, or the animation team. Segments like an unauthorized Russian version of the Animaniacs or catchy songs about Shakespeare and the different First Ladies of America prove that the classic series’ sense of humor has successfully been maintained. If anything, the cartoon is even more fearless. It’s the perfect burst of ‘90s Saturday Morning nostalgia that’s also exceptionally funny and thought provoking. – Daniel Kurland 

11 – Rick and Morty (Adult Swim)

Rick and Morty is a colossal behemoth of storytelling that’s developed a fascinating and often antagonistic relationship with its audience. 2020’s Rick and Morty content only includes five episodes from the second half of the show’s fourth season, but they’re some of the series’ wildest installments when it comes to storytelling, perpetual jokes, and the show’s ability to deconstruct itself and its fandom. The series Emmy-winning “Vat of Acid Episode” explores the emotional highs and lows of “save states” while “Never Ricking Morty,” the show’s “Story Train” episode, is perhaps the most structure-obsessed piece of television that’s ever been written.

Rick and Morty continues to expand its universe in exciting ways and allow its characters to realistically mature. These episodes provide fascinating insight on both Rick’s relationship with Morty as well as his bond with Beth. Even Jerry and Summer get their moments to shine and Rick and Morty feels more like an ensemble than ever before as it prepares to shake things up even more in season five. – Daniel Kurland

10 – Aunty Donna’s Big Ol’ House of Fun (Netflix)

In 2019, Netflix gave us I Think You Should Leave, the sketch comedy series from Tim Robinson that birthed memes that somehow only get more relevant (and funnier) as time goes on. In 2020, Netflix, likely mindful they needed to hold us over until Robinson finishes filming season 2, gave us a gift from down under called Aunty Donna’s Big Ol’ House of Fun. If you liked Robinson’s sketch series, imagine that on crack, dialed up to 100, and featuring the three silliest Australian dudes to ever walk on that continent. The series stars Mark Bonanno, Broden Kelly, and Zachary Ruane, a group of friends who formed a comedy group called Aunty Donna and gained a large following on YouTube with their absurdist humor that features simple premises that often descend into frenetic madness. See: them explaining how a board game works or doing roll call at school. 

In Big Ol’ House of Fun, the series opens with a musical number that will have you wondering whether everything’s a drum. Episode 2 will change the way you think about your morning coffee. Friendly faces like Scott Aukerman and Ed Helms (or is it “Egg” Helms?) even stop by just to play ball. Through its infectious and (mostly) good-natured absurdist energy, the series lives up to its name with endlessly quotable and memable sketches. And much like I Think You Should Leave, Aunty Donna material only gets better when you rewatch it. Here’s to hoping Netflix will let us come back and visit this Big Ol’ House again for season 2. – Chris Longo

9 – Mythic Quest: Raven’s Banquet (Apple TV+)

Created by Rob McElhenney, David Hornsby, and Megan Ganz of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia fame, Mythic Quest: Raven’s Banquet is a new Apple TV+ comedy that easily justifies a subscription to the streaming service. Set within a video game studio for a popular MMORPG, Mythic Quest leans into certain workplace comedy tropes, but never feels derivative of the genre or that it’s just Always Sunny with a fresh coat of paint. The comedy effectively explores and skewers gaming culture, but a knowledge of the industry is not at all necessary to enjoy the program. 

Smart and creative scripts are punctuated by the show’s phenomenal cast, which features the likes of McElhenney, Hornsby, and Danny Pudi. However, Charlotte Nicdao’s work as Poppy Li, the studio’s neurotic perfectionist lead engineer, is a revelation. Mythic Quest works so well because of how it grounds its quick comedy in powerful character dynamics. The series’ “standalone” flashback episode, “A Dark Quiet Death,” received a ton of acclaim, but there are few episodes of television from 2020 that contain more heart and honesty than the series’ quarantine-centric installment. – Daniel Kurland

8- Search Party (HBO Max)

HBO Max’s first bingeable, bonafide hit was outsourced from TBS. After languishing on basic cable with critical praise but low viewership, Search Party made the move to the new Warner streaming service for Season 3 and proved that the series was the perfect “watch it all in one afternoon” comedy. What began as a comedic mystery series about a group of prototypical Brooklyn millenials on a quest to find their missing former classmate shifted in its third season to become a satire on celebrity trials and how tabloid spotlight can turn unassuming people into sociopathic narcissists.

Search Party’s strength is in its ensemble. Alia Shawkat brings an interesting vulnerability to disaffected Dory, but her other “searchers” are the real bright spots. John Reynolds is perfectly cast as the de facto worthless millennial “beta male,” and John Early and Meredith Hagner are consistently laugh out loud funny as self-obsessed, attention seeking airheads. Search Party has a twisty, interesting plot, but it’s also a scathing indictment on an entire generation obsessed with celebrity, self-analyzation, and searching for “meaning.” If you have not yet watched one of the year’s funniest shows, get caught up before Season 4 debuts in January 2021.  – Nick Harley

7- How To with John Wilson (HBO)

Life is strange. If you take a moment to actually watch and analyze many of the seemingly ordinary, day-to-day things you witness while walking down the street in a major U.S. city, you’ll be shocked at how alien it can all appear. In New York City in particular, every imaginable human behavior is on display somewhere, and documentarian John Wilson is out there capturing it all on camera. How To With John Wilson may seem like a series designed to teach you useful everyday skills like how to split a check or how to improve your memory, but in reality, it’s a love letter to New York, in all of its beautiful, ugly, life-affirming, and soul-crushing splendor.

It’s also insanely hilarious. Wilson’s deadpan, stammering narration on top of quick cut, slice of life footage is an endlessly watchable setup-punchline joke machine. Wilson also is wise to go down the rabbit hole and follow weird digressions wherever they lead him, like a Mandela Effect conference or the home of an anti-circumcision activist. Further, the series finale is the first piece of television to fully capture the reality of post-pandemic city life, putting to shame all of those half-assed Zoom created depictions of life in 2020. Few shows can effortlessly glide between cringe comedy and poignant moments like this. How To with John Wilson is unlike any other show on television, an absurdist masterpiece that makes the mundane feel surreal and vice versa. – Nick Harley

6- High Fidelity (Hulu)

In a time full of reboots and remakes, High Fidelity earned its existence and then some. To its many admirers, it warranted a second season for more eclectic music choices, guest stars, and beautiful lingering shots over the credits. Sadly, that is not meant to be. Hulu’s High Fidelity is so much more than just a gender-swapped adaptation, though Zoe Kravitz leads the endeavor in the lead role of Rob, the idiosyncratic record store owner counting off Top 5s, especially her Top 5 heartbreaks. 

Rob’s rich world is full of characters we’d love to spend more time with, like snarky Cherise, she of the eclectic taste who keeps putting off her musical dreams for “someday.” Or Simon, Rob’s ex and current best friend, who narrates an episode that completely changes how the audience views Rob. Zoe Kravitz carries this beautiful mood piece, sharing chemistry with just about everyone. While it seems relaxed and fun on arrival, High Fidelity eventually reveals itself to have plenty to say about being accountable for our actions and allowing oneself to be happy, before wrapping Rob in a warm summer night and sending her on her way. – Delia Harrington 

5- Pen15 (Hulu)

The debut season of Maya Erskine and Anna Konkle’s brilliant series in which they, two adult women, play middle-schoolers surrounded by actual kid actors playing their classmates, was, in my opinion, the funniest show last year, but, as I didn’t actually get around to watching it until this year, I didn’t know that at the time. Rectifying my past mistake, this year—despite the fact it’s only aired half a season so far due to production being halted by COVID—it’s not just my favorite comedy, it’s my favorite show, period.

Though it still has its fair share of laugh-out-loud moments, the comedy in the second season has, admittedly, been scaled back a bit, but it makes perfect sense for where Pen15 is right now. From the start, what the series has done painfully well is zero in on the utter nightmare of living through our stressful and confusing pubescent years. As the series deepens its exploration of these characters’ experiences with friendship, romance, sexuality, the internet, and the impact of divorce, the stress and confusion should and absolutely do ratchet up. This season is also doing a great job of further developing the show’s side characters, with a standout arc for Dylan Gage as Gabe, who is grappling with the discovery that he may be gay. Though it’s still a hilarious series in places, Pen15 most wins me over most for how uncomfortable and tragic it can be with its stunningly well-observed depiction of surviving junior high. The secondhand shame and embarrassment you’ll feel makes it one of the toughest, but most worthwhile, watches of the year. – Joe Matar

4 – Ted Lasso (Apple TV+)

Jason Sudeikis’s Ted Lasso first originated as a character back in 2013, when NBC Sports commissioned a commercial for its upcoming coverage of the English Premier League. “An American Coach in London” introduced the concept of an American football coach deciding to try his hand coaching “the other football” with top flight club Tottenham Hotspur. It was a hilarious five minute clip that seemingly exploited the “fish out of water” concept to its natural conclusion.

The character seemed destined to be a one-off goof. But then Sudeikis and producer Bill Lawrence decided to try their hand at the overmatched coach one more time with a series for Apple TV+. The end result was one of the most essential new comedies of the 2020 TV season. Ted Lasso works because its’ funny, first and foremost. The show proves that this fish still had plenty of more time to spend out of water after all. More important, however, is how aggressively wholesome and optimistic it is. In a year that saw ugly Americans all over over TV screens, Ted Lasso represented the stars and bars the only way he knew how: by believing in the best of people from aging football star Roy Kent, to selfish young buck Jamie Tart, to even the woman who got him this job in the first place as an elaborate revenge plot.  – Alec Bojalad

3 – Schitt’s Creek (Pop)

If Schitt’s Creek were a fairy tale (and in all the best ways, it is), it’d be about a group of puppets brought to life by a magic spell. When the Roses lose their fortune, they’re forced to swap wealth and glamour for unfashionable small-town living. They start out wooden, obnoxious and alone. Then, over six seasons, we watch them transform into a flesh and blood family who figure out how to love each other in a community that’s as weird as they are, and that ends up loving them back. 

If that sounds schmaltzy, then I’m saying it wrong. Schitt’s Creek doesn’t do schmaltz. It does smart and absurd and naughty. It does jokes and brightness and kindness. Or it did, because now it’s gone. 2020 waved Johnny, Moira, David and Alexis off with a final season packed with treats: Patrick’s spray tan, David’s bed-wetting, the world premiere of “The Crows Have Eyes III: The Crowening”, Moira officiating a wedding dressed in a Rapunzel wig and pearlised bishop’s mitre…

However painful it was to say goodbye, the alternative – another six seasons with diminishing returns – would have been much worse. Dan and Eugene Levy’s sitcom went out on a high, with a finale that left fans in joyful tears. Not least for moments like the one in which a usually armoured-by-sarcasm David tells his sister, “For what it’s worth, I am continuously impressed by you.” The feeling’s mutual, Roses. – Louisa Mellor

2- BoJack Horseman (Netflix)

Though BoJack Horseman premiered only the back half of its final season in 2020, those eight episodes were some of the best dramatic and comedic storytelling on television this year. This final season operated as almost a microcosm of the series’ entire run. Just like the show’s beginning, season 6B begins with BoJack in a place of relative stability. He has just finished rehab and is prepared to embark on a career as an acting professor at Wesleyan. Of course, something from his past has to pop up to shatter his fragile equilibrium, just like it always does. In this case, it’s a pair of journalists working on a story of what really happened the night Sarah Lynn died back in season 3. What follows is as sadly predictable as it is tragic… also there are jokes!

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BoJack Horseman has been a frequently occurring item on many of our year-end best-of lists since the show first premiered in 2014. And each time, it’s hard not to continually expound upon what a bizarre, touching, and incisive drama Rapahel Bob-Waksberg’s animated creation is. That temptation remains for this final season, which is as devastating as they come. But this year, for the show’s final appearance on any of our best-of lists, let’s not lose sight of how funny this all is. 

Yes, this is an exploration of the human condition and how the only way to repair our damage is to acknowledge it and then put in the work to get better. It’s also the show where Mr. Peanutbutter, his fiancée Pickles Aplenty, and international pop superstar Joey Pogo open up a Lazy Susan/small plate restaurant called “Elifino.” The animation remains just as bright in this final season, the dialogue just as witty and convoluted, and the background jokes just as rewarding. BoJack Horseman season 6 shoulders a grand narrative burden of closing out the story of the world’s most miserable Horseman. That it is able to do so is remarkable. That it’s able to do so while maintaining its sharp sense of humor is even better. – Alec Bojalad 

1- What We Do in the Shadows (FX)

Adapting a beloved indie comedy film to the small screen seems a near impossible task. But when Taika Waititi convinced Jemaine Clement they should do exactly that, it was a stroke of genius. With Waititi busy on his Marvel movies, Clement was left to write and produce the FX series alongside Stefani Robinson and Paul Simms. What We Do in the Shadows began with a solidly silly first season but came into its own during a stellar second season which leaned into the absurdity innate to the idea of ancient vampire roommates. The series has also given us a new action hero for the ages in Harvey Guillén’s Guillermo de la Cruz. 

What makes season two so excellent is the writing and performances that play on the fish out of water setup the show has so much fun with. In “The Curse,” Nandor checks his email and discovers a chain email from Bloody Mary. Most of the hilarious runtime focuses on the crew trying to uncurse themselves. It sounds simple but it is honestly one of the funniest episodes of TV you’ll watch all year. “The Curse” is only topped by “On the Run,” which allows Matt Berry to go full Matt Berry as Laszlo leaves the nest and becomes a bartender, Jackie Daytona, who loves girls volleyball in smalltown America. It’s a pitch perfect riff on feel good sports movies while also being hysterically funny. It’s still a complete crime that Robinson didn’t win the Emmy for this one. 

But the real power of What We Do in the Shadows is its heart. Even within the broad comedy, genre parodies, and often gross out humor, this is a show about love, family, and friendship. Guillermo’s arc feels radical and boundary-pushing. It’s so well built in from the very first season that it’s also incredibly satisfying. This is the kind of comedy we need more of: inclusive, intelligent, and most importantly just really, really, f**king funny.  – Rosie Knight

The post The Best TV Comedies of 2020 appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[serensama]

The nine times he kissed her and the one time he didn’t.

Okay. So. In a bid to collect all my crap from everywhere- this was my first ever complete Harry Potter fan fiction.... that I published. It is of a rare pair but one that I hold close to my heart.  Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. 

This includes  1) Some profanity 2) Mention of NSFW theme/acts

The young boy scratched absentmindedly at his trouser leg- why did the damned material have to be so itchy- as he glanced around the room. People were in their finery and buzzing excitedly to one another- another Lord’s baby had been born or something or other... Salazar was suddenly very jealous of Godric and his family deciding to holiday in Greece at that moment. At least his friend had the chance to do whatever he wanted (although he knew the boy would most likely take to the skies or try to find dragons- at least he'd have a choice. Salazar rather fancied the idea of staying in and reading or possibly attempting another new spell but he guessed that's why there were friends- they were so undeniably different); he as the heir of the prestigious house of Slytherin was bound by social expectation and the rules of nobility. His father, though fond of the Gryffindors, also expressed a marked disdain for their penchant of dismissing their courtly duties, "Far too lax in their obligations and too indulgent in the whims of their child to truly deserve the standing of their name," he'd say and Salazar would numbly nod along.

Still scratching he felt a sharp nudge at his side and saw his father looking down at him urging him with his sharp glare to stop fidgeting. Remembering himself, he straightened his stance and pulled out the gift his father bade him to give to The Lord and Lady Ravenclaw. It was a long golden chain with a small disc emblazoned with the eagle and the serpent of their respective houses- it was pretty enough he supposed, a fair gift to receive from old family friends. He'd met the couple twice before, the first when his mother was still alive just after his second year. He remembered a handsome couple with dark hair and kind faces- he recalled receiving many sweets that visit. He didn't have the heart to tell them he didn't really like sweets but he accepted them all the same- he gave them all to Godric the next day. The second time he met them was at his mother's funeral last year- Lady Gwyn had foregone the norms and knelt down and gathered him in a bone shattering embrace. He hadn't cried when they told him his mother had died three days before that- but in that instance with a woman's warm arms around him telling him it'd be ok in the end (though he knew that was never going to be the case again), he felt the first undeniable prickle behind his nose and eyes. He waited until he was alone in his room that night to let that prickle turn into harsh stings and muffled sobs.

This third meeting his father had told him was a special one for Lord Oberon had finally sired an heir and it was a time to rejoice. Salazar understood the importance of family lines even at the tender age of five but truth be told he didn't see the need to host a massive ball because a baby was born. Babies were loud, smelly and useless people so why throw them a party? 

Adults were odd creatures. The crowd around them hushed and craned their necks towards the ceiling to catch a glimpse of the new parents and their pride and joy. From the top of the grand staircase he watched them descend, dressed in their deep navy robes they looked every bit the part of the Lord and Lady of the house. His eyes landed on the small bundle in Gwyn's long slender arms, huddled close to her heart was a sleeping mass of pink. Pink blankets, pink skin, pink pudgy fingers curled on the rim of her mother's clothes and a big pink yawning mouth with no teeth. Truly this was a sight worth travelling a day for. A. Great. Pink. Flobberworm. Joy. His thoughts were interrupted by a quick high piercing screech followed by a giggle. Acting much older than his years the young boy huffed and attempted to recall the ingredients to latest potion he was trying to re-create- three slugs approximately one inch long, a pinch of dried unicorn horn, a drop of ... a drop of... this is why I don't like babies!  The Ravenclaws had stopped on the third last step in front of their congregation where Gwyn had given her husband their daughter (for some reason this delighted the child to the point of screeching- stupid useless baby) who was turning to address them all properly.

"My people, my dearest wife and I welcome you to our home and you all have our deepest gratitude for coming here today to meet our first-born child, Rowena-" as if on cue the baby gurgled happily to the joy of the people, her nonsensical mutterings eliciting raucous applause and laughter. Oberon smiled warmly at his court before raising a placating hand to ask for silence, "We are so blessed to have a new life join our name and we humbly ask you all to join in our happiness, for tonight we will drink, wine and be merry in the name of our glorious new child!" As more sounds of approval and joy radiated around the room, all Salazar could think about was how long did he have to wait until he could take off his itchy trousers.

The night progressed as he predicted- much food and drink was served and many a gift were given to the young lady. His father had given the Ravenclaws a few of his most prized volumes from his own library wishing for them "...A bright light in the already luminous sky of Ravenclaw," earning him a hearty handshake from Oberon.

"You are too kind my dear friend Salvatore, we will teach our daughter well with these fine gifts you have so generously given." He watched on as the man patted his father on the back with such a comfortable familiarity it almost seemed that this wasn't a formal occasion. Maybe it wasn't just the Gryffindors who sniffed at noble expectations. After a majority of the guests had bid their farewells his father gestured towards his pockets, "I think maybe now is a good time for you to give your present Salazar," he prompted before pushing his son gently towards the couple who were now cooing over the bassinet beside the main table. Wiping his hand quickly over his trouser leg he retrieved the necklace and abruptly held out his arm at the Ravenclaws. The couple turned to face the young child with a puzzled look on their face not quite understanding why the small boy was standing there with his arm out. It was Gwyn that broke the silence.

"Darling Salazar, what do you have in your hand?"

"A necklace Lady Gwyn," he promptly replied. He could tell that his father had wanted to smack his head against his palm for all the etiquette lessons seemed to have fallen short on this occasion and he was left with a flustered child and not the polished young man he had reared. Five years old or not, he was a Slytherin damn it and Slytherins were never flustered and never out of their depth.

"Is that necklace for me my boy?" she asked crouching down to meet his eye. His mouth quirked in lack of a response- truth was he didn't know who the gift was for. Logically speaking since the ball was in the baby's honour one would think it was for the child not the parents.

"I believe my Lady, that it is for your daughter," he whispered dropping the necklace in Gwyn's open palm. Gwyn and Oberon looked over to his father with a look that could only be described as stunned but genuine appreciation.

"Salvatore- you have given us more than you ever needed to. Your continuing friendship through all these years is all we could ask for but now you spoil our daughter- you have my many thanks my friend," she said as she reached up to give his father a kiss on the cheek. She unfurled her fingers to reveal the disc, the eagle and the serpent catching the light. Gwyn's surprised expression was not lost on the young Slytherin as she turned to face her husband- looking between him and his father.

"Salvatore... is this... are you proposing? -" she began but was halted by Salvatore's hand on her shoulder.

"This Gwyn is nothing but a symbol that binds our two families together. Whether it be through friendship," pausing to walk towards Oberon and clasping his hand within his own, "or through marriage".

Marriage? Whose marriage? Who would marry a baby?

"And should our daughter refute the idea of an arranged marriage Salvatore?" Oberon ventured tentatively, "I could not imagine forcing my daughter to marry someone she did not love if she were against it." Salazar watched as his father's expression flickered ever so briefly to annoyance, so brief in fact that no one but him would have noticed.

"Then we will not deny her the chance to be with one she loves. Let my child and yours be simply entwined by the bonds of camaraderie that we too have shared these many years"

WHAT? Friends with that thing? MARRIED to that thing?

"Then yes, my friend, yes- we accept this token, this symbol of our two houses forever joining together! Whatever the circumstances be in the future," Oberon took Salvatore's hand in both of his and began shaking it with such fervour that the young master believed his father's arm would fly off. Lost in the imagining of flailing, flying limbs and a wedding ceremony with him and a baby he was startled out of his revelry by a gentle hand on his shoulder and the tickle of hair against his cheek. "Why don't you give the necklace to Rowena yourself? It is for her after all," she suggested as she squeezed his hand softly as a mild encouragement and led him towards the other adults and the baby.

His eyes searched his fathers; only finding him staring at him with impatience, the boy swallowed hoping to alleviate the sudden dryness of his throat. Stretching to his full height and extending up to the tips of his toes he peered over the edge of the bassinet, where a frilly pink flobberworm with fingers lay laughing haphazardly at the toys floating in the air her father had bewitched for her. Shuffling slowly to her side he saw her attention shift from the silver rattles and patchwork dolls to him. Big clear sapphire eyes focused solely on him as if he were the only thing that mattered to her, then she let out another wretched squeal and reached for him. Startled by the noise and the readiness of her acceptance he promptly stepped back into the legs of Gwyn Ravenclaw. The older woman chuckled as she straightened the boy up and offered the gold necklace to him.

"Don't worry Salazar, she won't bite- I think she really likes you. Try again my dear."  If that was what she sounds like when she likes me, then I hope she grows up hating me. He drew from his courage again and met the eyes of the Ravenclaw babe, watching at her clap her hands above her at the sight of him then placing a pudgy hand in her mouth (disgusting) waiting for him to do something to entertain her. He held out the necklace in front of her, dangling it as if it were a string to a kitten, until her clumsy little fingers grasped the disc. She fumbled with it, obviously not knowing what to do with a necklace and he was at a loss as to what he should do himself. He pulled on the chain so the disc fell away from the baby's hold to continue playing with her like a cat. That idea burnt away with regret in a matter of moments when big round tears fell down her cheeks at the loss of her new shiny toy. Panicked, the boy dropped the necklace beside her and tried to silence her by covering her mouth gently. He was greeted with a big giggle and a slurping sound as his thumb began to feel wet and warm... and undoubtedly gross. He watched on as the Ravenclaw heir sucked on his thumb.

"Aww look at that- she does like you!"

Yay.

And that was how Salazar Slytherin (kind of) got his first kiss from a girl.

And became sort of engaged.

The next time they met she was four years old and already every bit of the Ravenclaw heir apparent he knew she would be. In other words- an uppity snob. Brilliant, but an uppity snob nonetheless. At four she was already an incredibly bright witch, even he could not rebuff these claims- word around the lands was that she was already showing strong signs of magical ability- just like him when he was around her age. She was apparently a voracious devourer of books favouring them for presents instead of childish trinkets and pretty baubles like so many of her age. She was annoying.

She had the gall to ignore him in his own house by continuing to read in front of him when their parents were talking to each other. He was about to say hello when she held up a finger to him as she finished reading her page. By whatever Gods are listening, know that if I had my wand on me this little wench would be cursed so hard... 

"My my! Salazar look at you, what a handsome young man you are growing into- Rowena, get your head out of that book and say hello properly!" her mother chastised. However instead of listening to her mother she simply outstretched the rest of her hand for him to kiss. Salazar willed his eye to not twitch at the small girl’s insolence and disrespect and was about to voice his opinion out loud when a boisterous laugh made him bite his tongue. Oberon pried the book from his daughter’s tenacious hold and promptly bopped her on the crown of her head with it.

"Don't forget your manners girl- you're making us look like bad parents here!" he continued merrily.

Her hand was still in his face waiting for him to take it. He bit his tongue until it bled. Leaning down, taking her evil little palm in his hand, he placed a quick peck on the back of her hand.

"Welcome to our home Lady Rowena, I wish you a pleasant stay." I hope you get eaten alive by rabid Cornish Pixies.  She blinked, her bright eyes focused on him again, a smile gracing her lips.

"Thank you, Lord Salazar, I apologize for my rudeness before- I'm afraid when I start reading about something interesting I forget everything else exists," she flushed rather prettily he noted. He knew when she grew up she'd be a beauty just like her mother.

"And what may I ask was the subject of your interest?"

"Potions. I was told that you were quite the genius at them and I thought it smart to have something we could talk about- I've only read a few books about them but this particular volume that your father gave me is quite extensive! A brilliant read!"

He couldn't help but let a small smirk appear at the earnest way this little girl spoke. He forgot that this girl was only four. He forgot that the first kiss he gave her tasted like blood and that he was willing to sacrifice her to little flying monsters. He forgot that he was still holding her hand.

Every Summer after that their families had taken turns to visit each other at their homes, letting the children get to know each other and let their relationship flourish. By the time she was 12 she looked to Salazar as the big brother she never had. Her rejoicing in the magical discoveries he made, the exciting stories he had of duelling with other wizards and the fun he had with his best friend Godric, who she had still to meet after all these years. He looked to her as a precious jewel that needed to be safeguarded, a rare and exquisite entity that needed to be cultivated and moulded to be all that she could be. A dear friend in a world where he had close to none. Though she was young she held his attention better than any woman of his age or older- most too blithe to realise that he wasn't like most men. He didn't flatter easily or get swayed by looks or flashes of skin or promises of the flesh (though those were tempting... he was 17) and the fact that he was utterly sated for female companionship by a 12-year-old never seemed disturbing to him. That was until she asked him one question.

"Laz..." she stared at the top button of his jacket collar. Watching it with a rapt fascination as if it had sprouted a head and started serenading her. "Can I... can I ask you for a favour?" This had his attention. Usually the little chit came out and said or asked whatever she wanted. It was part of her charm. She didn't mince words or say things she didn't mean- she was a breath of fresh air amongst all the stale, fake people he was forced to endure due to his position. He continued to switch his gaze between her and the clouds above them, the wind lazily moving them along in the sky. "Laz..." she repeated as she pulled at the blades of grass and yanked them forcefully out of the ground.

"What is it Little Ravenclaw? Out with it- usually you've managed to sway me to your side by now- what has your tongue in a twist hmm? And why the sudden hatred towards the grass?"

Her hands stilled immediately. Sitting up with his hands splayed against the cool grass beneath him, elbows bent to bear his weight, his eyes focused on her face. She was blushing again, something that always suited her. He wondered, should he ever blush would it suit him half as much as it did her? Of course not. You'd look like an idiot with rouge on, then Godric would point and laugh and transfigure all the statues and paintings in the castle to blush whenever he was around. That bastard.

"I... Alright but you can't laugh- you need to promise. You need to promise that you'll help me too; there's no one else who can," she bit her lower lip a worried glint glazing over her eyes. His heart began to race. What could be wrong? So wrong that not even her parents could help her out of it?

"Of course, Ro- you know I will."

Without any warning the little girl wrapped her arms around his neck to draw him into a fierce hug. Never one to easily respond to personal contact he softly patted her on the back to reassure her. "Now what is it that I need to help you with?"

She pulled back and set her hands in her lap and looked him straight in the eye a small smile on her face.

"I need your help to teach me how to kiss a boy"

WHAT?

" I said I need your help to teach me to kiss a boy"

Oh, I said that out loud did I?

His mind was reeling. Kiss a boy? That was the problem?! He thought that maybe she was being blackmailed or someone was threatening or bullying her or god forbid she grew some hideous third ear on the back of her neck that only one of his potions could cure... but a kiss? To a boy?!

"You're a Lady, Rowena. You have certain obligations you need to fulfil- you aren't allowed to go running about kissing random boys whenever you want. What will people think?" he attempted to sway her from this whole kissing idea. Seriously, she was a child! Said child huffed in annoyance and balled her fists and pounded them back down onto her lap to emphasize her point.

"I don't care what anyone else thinks Laz! I love him! He understands me, loves books as much as I do, makes me laugh and he wants to be with me forever!" she protested, her eyebrows furrowing together. Salazar fought the need to laugh at his friends vehement protestation. Love- at 12? Suuuuurre.

"Who is this boy Ro? How do you know he isn't interested in your vast fortune or your family's power? Trying to marry into a Pureblooded family such as yours-"

"He doesn't care about any of that Laz! He's just as "pure" as you or I and while not as blessed in coin as me, he certainly isn't a pauper."

"Fine. So, who is he?" he tentatively asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. He didn't need her to know that he would find the little shit and make him swear to stay away from the Ravenclaw heir, or else beware the wrath of the Slytherin heir.

"Why would I tell you that? So you can find him and hex the life out of him? I don't think so!"- Damn smart Ravenclaw brat. "Please Laz, just this once and I promise I'll never ask you for anything ever again!" her big eyes opening so wide he could see the whites around her irises. He yielded. He always did. He pulled on the grass that tickled his fingers and decided that he hated them now too- just as Rowena did before.

"Fine. Just this once and don't let your parents find out about this or this mystery boy of yours."

He sat all the way up and faced her, her eyes fixated on him and his movements, her blush now creeping down her neck ever so faintly. He had kissed a few girls before this, and most much less innocently than how he planned to kiss Rowena, but for some reason his heart had never trembled as it did then.

"Close your eyes Ro," he whispered as he waited for her to do as he instructed. "Just this once, right?" he leaned further in, so close he could smell the soap on her skin and the mint leaves on her breath that she must have chewed on before leaving the house that morning.

"Right..." she breathed as he closed the distance between them and allowed a small press of their lips.

"OW!" Rowena jumped back startled, rubbing her arm furiously to numb the pain. "Nobody told me that kissing hurt! Why do people do this?!"

"Ro- I thought you knew! That's why only people who truly love each other do it- to tell the other person that they'd do anything for them. It's something important and shouldn't be done with just anyone," he ranted, watching her closely as she processed what he said to her. Biting her lower lip again, slowing the movements of her hand against her arm she nodded her understanding.

"I see. I think… I think I understand. Thank you so much for teaching me Laz. I really, really appreciate it- I... I think I'll head back home for today. I need to think, thanks," she lifted up her skirts and headed back to the direction of the castle.

He thanked whatever Gods were watching that she never noticed him take out his wand to zap her.

The next Summer she visited him in his castle she rushed up to him and threw herself on him in a giant hug; wrapping her arms and legs about him like the giant squid Godric described to him after seeing it during one of his family holidays. While Rowena's parents had laughed at their little girl’s antics, Salazar knew his father would see this as a sign towards marriage between the two families.

"Oh Laz! Thanks for everything! I understand everything you told me last Summer, about kissing between people who truly love each other- between me and Edward- it didn't hurt at all. It must mean that we're meant to be! Thank you so much! Now the Potter's are in talks with my parents for a favourable time for us to be wed! Thank you so, so much!" she squealed before she pecked him on the cheek.

He could have sworn that she had taken her wand and stabbed him in the chest. Rowena Ravenclaw, pink flobberworm, uppity snob, innocent child and heartbreaker- had unknowingly broken up with him.

It would be another four Summers until Salazar would see Rowena again. She had stopped the trips back and forth to their homes, almost all but stopped the correspondence that they once shared. Their daily letters trickling down to a letter once a week, to once a month to one every few months. Not that he minded, he was a busy man, he had a life to attend to as well. His father's health was ailing due to a mysterious illness going around and he had taken up most of the duties of the house and his surrounding lands. It didn't mean however, that he had forgotten about the young bright eyed witch that hugged him so fiercely that one time and all those amazing memories they had shared before that. It didn't mean that he hadn’t read and re-read those intermittent letters and committed them to memory. He could recall every word and every pen stroke. Drank in those words as if they were the only sustenance he had. Drawing out each one to make sure it lasted him long enough until the next one arrived. Even if most of the letters were about that damned Edward Potter- Edward Potter- what kind of name is that anyway? Probably suits him, bland, boring bookish Edward Potter- he still loved to read what she was doing, her thoughts on various subjects and just anything she deemed him worthy to know. He just wanted to hear about her.

It had been three months ago when she wrote to him saying that Edward, though lovely, had found someone else he loved more. She tried her best to sound cheerful and strong in the letter, but he could see the tear stains on the paper where the ink had flowered across the page.

 "… I'm so happy for him Laz, truly I am. If he has found that one person that could make him feel like how he made me feel then who am I stop him? I wish him a thousand joyful blessings and a long prosperous life." 

Salazar’s mouth twisted into a wan smile as he felt the bile rise up and bubble in his throat. You wish him a long prosperous life? Well then, I do too. I wish him a long life filled with pain, suffering and severe genital itching that will never go away. I hope that he has hideous squib children with his hideous wife. I pray that... I pray that he knows that every day without you in his life is a day thoroughly wasted. He had wanted to rush to her side but unfortunately his useless friend Godric had told him to stay put. To let her just breathe, that he could go to her in a month or so when she had the time to let go of any pain that she was hiding. Of course, he was right, Rowena was a proud woman- she would have never let him see how much she was hurting over a stupid boy. Even if he was her fiancé. So, he let it ride, he let a month turn into two, two into three and during those months the letters became more regular- more cheerful and more of her than it had been for years. It was exhilarating.

"Laz. They're dead. They just... died. The village was attacked by some crazed dragons and they went out to protect everyone... they… They're gone. I'm...It's just me Laz. It's just me here and they're gone and I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to do this." He had barely said goodbye to his father, just dropped the letter in his hands- possibly said something about bringing her back, before Apparating to the gates in front of her parents- now her- castle. Disarming the wards that prevented him from entering he glided through every hall with a practiced precision of someone who had spent almost every Summer there, until he found her sitting at the end of her bed just staring at a patch on the rug in front of her. She didn't bother to look up at him.

"Did you want some tea?" she asked gesturing towards the teapot on her dresser. He didn't need to touch it to know it had been cold for hours, possibly days. He had a feeling that as much as her house elves loved Rowena, they hadn't a clue how to approach her or defy all the barriers she had erected to keep everyone out.

"No thank you Ro- did you... did you... what can I do? What do you need me to do?" she looked up at him, her blue eyes stained with unshed tears, her face streaked with dried ones. Her eyes were red and raw from her rubbing at them and the bags under her eyes tinged with purple from lack of sleep. He was at a complete and utter loss. As much as he treasured his father he couldn't say that his impending death would affect him like this. That the loss of him would turn him into the person Rowena was in front of him. But he could empathize- he could pretend for her, pretend to understand so he could help her through this.

"There's... Nothing you can do Laz. It's done. They're gone and now I'm all alone. I don't have anyone anymore... " she sobbed, her tears teetering over the rims of her eyes, so close to falling... He didn't even realise he was holding her to him, crushing her, making sure that she was still there with him.

"Don't even finish that thought. Never think of that again,” he implored as he grabbed her hand and rested it against his chest, “you feel that? My heartbeat? Hear my voice? I'm here. I'm still here."

And with that he let her fall apart.

He recalled the distant cries of a three year old boy crying for the loss of his mother and realised maybe he did understand how she felt. Maybe he did know what she needed. Brushing her long ebony strands back he pressed his lips against her forehead before resting his chin atop her crown.

"Maybe... maybe we can figure out how to do this together."

"Laz I am not a child anymore you needn't follow me everywhere I go!" she snarled furiously at him as she tore off her travelling cloak and threw it to the ground. He calmly took his off and placed it on top of an armchair and sat on its arm. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at her dramatic behaviour.

"Oh really?" he asked as she kicked off her shoes and stomped behind her changing screen. "You were in a Mudblood town filled with dirty no-good farm folk who wouldn't know what a book looked like if it came up to them and slapped them in the face-"

"DON'T YOU DARE USE THAT WORD! They were Muggles and Muggleborn! And they were not dirty they were perfectly clean! Yes, they were farmers but everyone has to do something- who else will grow the food we eat?!" he could hear her straining out of her clothes as she yelled at him. Usually she summoned one of the elves to help her with dressing but in her anger, she must have forgotten. Her light green dress was thrown over the screen. He did love her in green, she looked radiant in it.

"Fine... Muggle born then," he drawled as he rolled his eyes at the screen. "But I wasn't referring to their personal hygiene- which was lacking no matter what you say- but their intentions towards you. You'd think that they've never seen a woman before the way they leered at you," he practically spat at the thought of what they were thinking. He was not a fool nor was he as naive as his young friend. She was an uncommonly beautiful woman; thick long jet black hair, sparkling gemstone eyes, a fuller upper lip with a smaller bottom lip which she often pulled at when thinking and a perfect milky complexion that looked so smooth to touch. She was porcelain, you needed to be careful with porcelain, not gruff or uncouth... like a farmer would be with her.

"Men are men Salazar- ugly or beautiful, dumb or smart- most men will fall to the graces of a woman. Should they find me beguiling all the better to deal with them, let them fall for my looks while I bargain for better prices to feed my people," she professed passionately. A sharp shudder tore through Salazar’s body- the idea of men fawning over her, the mere thought of her allowing them to touch even just the hem of her sleeve to get a better deal on produce made his blood boil for unknown reasons. This was why he moved up here in the first place, his father seemed to be getting better and seemed to wish to live forever so he left the old man to his devices in order to 'take care' of her. He took it upon himself to deal with the townsfolk himself, to barter and trade accordingly so that Rowena didn't have to amidst her grief. And for the next year it continued that way, until today, when she decided that she would have her turn at it.

"You sound like a common harlot talking like that- like a cheap woman to be used in order to get your way."

He heard a commotion behind the screen and before he knew it, she was out in a flash, charging at him at full speed with her arm extended to hit him. He managed to catch her wrist easily, that alone shocking her enough to still her. She was breathing heavily, her eyes filled with anger at being called such a terrible name. Her chest was rising up and down steadily as she tried to calm herself. It was only then did he notice that she was in her undergarments. A simple a white cotton bodice and a thin slip that fell past her knees- that was all that separated her from him. Oh, such a treacherous body you Gods gave to us men- so quickly riled up.

"I am not a harlot Salazar," she bit out his name like a curse, only ever saying his full name in anger. Watching that delicious pink tint crawl up her cheeks, even in anger, made his heart speed up even more. He was trying his hardest to keep his eyes at the level of her throat, his breathing starting to keep pace with hers. He could feel the thrum of her pulse in her wrist quicken, he knew that she knew what he was thinking, when he finally managed to pry his eyes off her delicate neck and able to look into her eyes he was already drawing her wrist to his lips. Ever so slowly he watched as her eyes widened as he let his lips touch the sensitive underside of wristz on her pulse. Brazenly he let just the tip of his tongue brush against her skin to taste her. Her soap, the fragrant oils that had rubbed off throughout the day... the salt of her sweat during their argument- it was all there and he wanted more. He could almost hear her heart pound right out of her chest.

"I apologise My Little Ravenclaw," he said, content to watch the blush that seemed to cover her neck and her upper chest now, her body quickly heating up. With arousal or embarrassment, he didn't really care- it was too endearing to bother.

SLAP! ...(ow)

"Apology accepted Salazar Slytherin."

He had forgotten about her other hand.

It had taken three years until the castle was ready, the school was nearly done and the students would be arriving in a few weeks and their dream was about to be realised. He knew that he was bound for amazing things just like he knew Godric and Rowena were too. Helga... well... she was pleasant enough and surely, she was skilled with plants which could only help with his potion making... maybe they just needed another woman to even everything out. It had been three years since he had last even dreamed of entertaining the thoughts of Rowena in anyway other than a dear friend. A dear, dear attractive friend he wanted for himself. But he pushed those thoughts out for the sake of their friendship, she was 21 and an adult and had never shown any interest in pursuing him apart from their current relationship.

He heard heeled footsteps rushing down the hallways to his dungeons and knew before the door opened that it would be his Rowena. She doesn't need to know I call her that...

"Laz, come quickly!" he looked up at her alarmed. Had Helga set the main hall on fire?... again?

"What is it Ro? What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Nothing! It's just finished! I finished it!" she ran from the door and grabbed his hand and the next moment he found himself in a room filled with navy blue and bronze. Her family colours. A beautiful luxurious room with expensive chairs and tapestries and wall to wall shelves filled to the brim with books and scrolls- her common room screamed, I am Rowena Ravenclaw, you are now a part of my family, a part of me. The surge of emotion he had at the sight of her achievement was palpable, such pride he rarely held for anyone other than himself... he felt double that for her.

"It's…"

"Oh, I know it's not much but I didn't want to blow the budget on things that might not be needed...I thought that maybe I would see how everything goes in the first term and add or subtract the things in the common room as needed," she grinned excitedly spinning in a circle to admire her work

"Always pragmatic aren't you Ro... It's not more, nor is it less than what it should be- it is perfect," he praised as he let one of his rare smiles flash at her. "You're perfect Rowena". She laughed, she laughed, and slapped him lightly on the arm.

"Always the charmer Laz... " she guffawed but stopped laughing when she saw the intensity in his eyes. He wasn't trying to be charming. He was just... being Laz. He stepped closer to her and put his hands about her waist and looked deep into her eyes, searching for any sign to not say what he had wanted to say to her since she was 17... maybe even before that...

"You're perfect Ro," he only repeated the words he had said before but the way he said it... Oh the way he said it made her knees weak. It made her usually sharp mind turn to jelly and suddenly she could barely remember to breathe let alone talk. Salazar was not the only one to dwell on what happened three years ago in her chambers, she still dreamt about the feel of his lips on her skin- the way the look in his eyes had ignited something deep down in her belly that she had never once felt before. However, he hadn't done anything since- not once tried to touch her inappropriately, he hadn't even tried to go into her chambers again since then so she rationalised that it was due to his anger that he acted out of character. Oh how she hoped he would get angry again... but he never did. At least not the in the same way he did that day.

So, she let it go. After all he was 26, eligible, intelligent and gorgeous with an inheritance and bloodline so desirable that she had no right to even think of him that way. So, she didn't think of him... a lot. At least she tried not to think of him. Which meant she thought about him all the time to the point of madness. And now... with him telling her she was perfect and being so close to her and damn he smelled so good, she was at a loss. She was out of her depth and they both knew it so she let him swim for the both of them.

He let his thumbs rub against the velvet fabric of her dress as he watched her lick her lips instinctively. He fought back a moan at the sight of her pink tongue dart in and out of her mouth- he'd been with women before who'd done amazing acrobatic things and not once did he get as excited at just seeing something as unseemly as a tongue. His eyes quickly looked back into hers as if to ask for permission- seeing no sign of fear or rejection he let his nose lightly touch hers- nuzzling her ever so slightly. Dipping his mouth to hers he let his lips brush over hers, ghosting reverently over them as if they'd break. Finally his mouth took hers, their lips softly locking together- why did we wait so long for this?- moving his head to reach her mouth better he opened his mouth to allow his tongue to lick at the bottom tip of her Cupid's bow vying for entrance; he knew that this particular area was said to hold a nerve leading straight to her core. He may have been correct with the moan she offered in payment for his skillful ministrations as she opened her mouth to give him better access.

Finally.

Months had passed in a blink of an eye. The students were settling in well and the four professors were also settling in their positions and teaching style. It had been hectic at the start but with the four of them working together seamlessly everything seemed to flow organically- it really was, for a lack of a better word, magic. The Christmas season had come upon them sooner than they expected and while they allowed the students to stay should the need to, all of them had opted to go back home. Even Helga and Godric had left (Godric begging them both to come along to spend Christmas with his family- they had promptly said no) leaving the two of them all alone in Hogwarts except for the house elves... and they barely counted.

Rowena and Salazar walked through the third floor of the castle just... being. They rarely held hands- they didn't need to in order to feel close to each other. Salazar however let his hand catch hers mid-step, his dark eyes observing her carefully, pleased with the slight upturn of her mouth at the contact. He stopped walking still holding her hand forcing her to stop with him- when she turned around to ask if anything was the matter, he was already kissing her. Kissing wasn't the right term... maybe devouring her whole? Her entire body was on fire and she tried to reciprocate as much as possible with her mind as cloudy as it was... for all she knew she was dreaming right now... if it were not for the cold, hard wall that she was just slammed against. Salazar had pressed his entire body against hers, feeling her soft curves meld against his harder form only drove his desire further as his fingers ran over her cheeks, her neck, her collarbone- anything where his fingertips could feel her warm skin. Spurred on by her soft gasps and mewls and those damned perfect fingers threaded through his hair, he pushed one of her thighs aside and settled in between her spread legs. She broke contact when she realised the extent of his want of her- she couldn't deny it- she could feel it for goodness sake... and she'd be lying if she said it didn't excite her.  Salazar was right... I AM a harlot.

"No, you're not..."

"Not what Salazar?" she asked, confused from not only being thoroughly kissed but from the ambiguity of his random comment.

'You're not a harlot," he replied kissing down her neck. In the back of her mind she knew that she didn't say that out loud- she knew he was dabbling in new magic- whether that meant he could read her mind or not, she didn't care at that moment. If he could just help her with this pulling in her belly, whatever was this feeling anyway, this pooling of desire where she and he met at their hips... she was certain she was going to hell with these wanton thoughts.

"Rowena..." he rasped, using her full name so she was sure to listen, "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do," she replied automatically. She didn't even have to think- of course she trusted him, that was never a question. Salazar looked at her scrupulously before nodding to himself and continued to kiss her. His hands roamed down her body hiking the edges of her skirt up to her waist, glad to know that she still only wore the slip under her dress.

"Say it again Rowena- say that you trust me," he begged as he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. She didn't know exactly he was asking from her, what words she could say to make him understand that she did. What words would give him the permission he was asking for. She let her hands find his face, caressing his skin and grazing over the stubble that was growing back. Her fingers linked under his jaw so that they were eye to eye again.

"Salazar. I trust you with my life- is that not enough?" she questioned before his shoulders began to shudder. Tremors racking through his body- he was… laughing. Rowena felt him laugh, actually laugh with joy, against her lips as he took over her again. Lips, tongues, teeth and hands everywhere until somehow Salazar was on his knees, his cheek resting against her womb. She ran her fingers through his hair trying to calm both of their frazzled senses. Their ragged breaths filling the corridor as they stayed there.

"Rowena... I'm going to kiss you... " he warned, his voice low and dripping with sin.

This time, she let out a laugh.

"So, what was it that you were just doing to me before?" she joked as felt him shake his head against her.

"No, no- Rowena... You misunderstand me. I wasn't going to kiss your mouth."

Before Rowena could even ask what that meant his head had dipped even lower and disappear under her slip… and she saw stars. Who knew that Salazar could give her more than one first kiss?

They were fighting again. It must have been the third time that week. She didn't even know what it was about this time- it couldn't have been the Muggle born issue again, they'd already fought about that earlier albeit briefly. No, tensions were rising for a completely different reason and she didn't know what it was. The once "best of the best" best friends were growing further apart by the day and there was nothing either Helga or she could do to patch them up. As the two women sat down for tea and biscuits they heard a loud crash outside. Running as quickly as they could they found the two men duelling fiercely against each other and this was no practice duel. They were both bleeding and bruised. Rowena found her feet knew what to do before she did and she was running in amongst the thrown curses and in front of Salazar; the man in question so focused against his opponent he didn't even notice his lover screaming his name in front of him. She forced his face to look down at her, to look into her eyes. He stilled almost immediately- reading her mind she knew, but she didn't care. Let him feel her fear, her concern for him. Let him stop this crazed behaviour.

"You're right Ro, you're always right," he whispered as he dropped his wand. She heard Helga usher in Godric and as she turned she saw him look at her, really look at her and for the first time in since their introduction, she saw how the Gryffindor saw her. He wanted her just like Salazar did, and suddenly the animosity between friends was more understandable- ridiculous- but understandable.

"Tch," Salazar spat at the sight of his friend's retreating back, "if you could hear the things he thinks about you- the thoughts and dreams he sees with you in them..."

"But that's all they are Laz... thoughts, dreams... you have memories, reality- you will always have me," she declared, bringing his face down to meet her lips to show to him what words couldn't, but as much love and passion she felt from that kiss she could also taste jealousy and bitterness begin to seep in. And she was scared. Scared of what he could do, would do to Godric, scared about how deeply this anger existed within him; scared for the future of their school and more so scared for their future... she could see it almost slipping away

They both know he could see that in her mind.

They both remained silent.

"Why now then?" she asked as he was about to step out of the Hogwarts entrance. She knew it was coming, had felt it for a while now. She was never one to read tea leaves or look into crystal balls- but when one dreams of your lover walking out of your life every night for three months one tended to see that as an ominous warning. He still hadn't turned around to face her- still refused to look her in the eye. In all the arguments Salazar and Godric had she never believed when the latter had called the former a coward... right now she was inclined to agree with her fiery friend.

"It was time Rowena. I was no longer required or wanted here."

"That's a load of shit Salazar and you know it."

"Cursing never did become you Rowena," he laughed mirthlessly. "Go back inside Rowena. You are still needed. You are still wanted," he ground out the last word with enough venom to kill.

"Do you no longer want me? Do you no longer need me? Are you running away from everyone who ever cared about you merely because of your jealously or your stubborn views about the Wizarding future?" she started to scream into the cold night air. He finally faced her, his face hard and guarded but his mask could not reach his eyes. His eyes normally as still as the sea with on a calm day, now as turbulent as the greatest of tempests.

"There has never been a day for the last thirty years where I have not wanted you. There will never be a day where I will not want you- but there are things even stronger than want Ro. As much as I want to stay- I need to leave for the good of everyone here," he admitted as he started to turn around again to make his way off the school grounds forever.

"Not everyone will be better with you gone-"

"You and the others will be more than fine on your own- as loath as I to admit it- you are all powerful magical beings in your own right. You never needed my help to make Hogwarts a success, you just let me join the adventure for a while."

"And the children what of them?" she yelped, grasping onto her final straws to make him stay. She saw him shake his head listlessly.

"They too will be better off without me. Seeing their Professors at odds all the time cannot be productive for them. Having them duelling in the corridors because they see their Heads of House doing the same thing- does not fit my cause. I seek to maintain the purity and sanctity of our magic, our heritage with our Pureblooded children. Watching them maim each other serves directly against it all. Better they live in ignorant peace than die fighting in a war they don't really care about."

She willed her feet to move but they wouldn't. She couldn't bring herself to go to him, her pride would not allow her to.

"Won't you stay? Please... for us?" she tried again hoping he would understand her meaning.

"Rowena... you have the others-"

"Not them Laz. Us," she pressed on her slightly rounded stomach. The man actually had the decency to stop and turn again to make sure he understood the gravity of the situation. He looked so utterly confused, lost and torn- she almost felt sorry for him.

"That's why I haven't been able to read you properly- there's been someone else with you... I... I didn't know."

"I didn't want you to know. Not until I knew if you were going to stay or not. However, seeing as there's no talking sense into you maybe I could appeal to your emotions; as underhanded as that may be, I'm willing to play the part if it means you'll stay," she would not cry she would not cry she would not cry. 

"I... I want to stay Rowena. I want you and the child more than you will ever know- but can you stay with me knowing the way I feel about the school? How I feel about the future? How I want to raise our child?" he was met with silence. "That's what I thought. Besides, I want you taken care of Rowena. I want you safe- I always have. There is no safer place than Hogwarts, I made sure of that. Keep our child within these walls," he implored.

"She needs a father Laz. A father could keep her safer than any walls," she cursed herself as her bottom lip trembled beyond her control and she felt the restraint on her tears give way. One tear. Two. Five. Eleven. She heard him sigh, a heavy sound that sounded like a he was trying to express every deep regret he ever had.

"Godric always wanted children you know-"

"Godric is not her father!" she countered, almost hysterical.

"I know. But he'll love her just like he is."

Rowena felt the back of his hand brush away her tears, his thumb following each new tear down her cheek and wiping them away up along her jaw. His fingers traced the outline of her lips over and over, so softly it felt like he was trying to memorise the feel of them to last him a lifetime. She could feel his breath upon her mouth and the warmth of his skin, his lips tickling the side of her mouth as he spoke.

"Did I ever tell you what that necklace you wear means?” he questioned, his fingers tracing the finely made disc on her décolletage. “It was to be a symbol of the bonding of our two houses, our parents had hoped that one day we would marry- but if we didn't it would be alright because our two houses would always be one... always be entwined. If you… if you ever see it fit… please give our child the necklace. I do not deserve it, but I hope that even the smallest part of me will be able to stay with her even if I could not." ... then there was nothing. She was suddenly frozen to her core. He had stepped outside the gates, two mere steps away from her but felt like he was unreachable to her now.

"Live well My Little Ravenclaw, My Rowena."

And with that he was gone. Just gone. She knew she'd never see him again. Never receive a letter telling her of how he managed to create a new potion. Never hold him again. Never hear his laughter again. Never kiss him again. She was glad that the bastard hadn't kissed her goodbye, otherwise she'd never be able to stop thinking about him. Never able to get angry at him for leaving her, them. Never able to move on.

She should have learnt her lesson. She had been warned a long time ago that kissing only led to pain. She was just too stubborn to listen.

[dcbarba-blog]

GOSPEL OF MY LIFE (2008)

GOSPEL OF MY LIFE

Life is like a book

Everyday has a new page,

With adventures to tell

Lessons to learn

And tales of good deeds to remember

My friends, as I am about to leave this Earth, may this gift I am leaving you behind serve as a memoir for you to remember and keep me within your hearts forever. May you treasure this gift and hope you will also learn from them as I have.

CHAPTER 1 These things I have Lived For…

“What’s my purpose in life?” This question has always been hunting me since I have come to think about my future. Why, indeed am I here?

Now I can only give you five of these things I have lived for.

First is God. My life is my offering to Him that is why I have lived it as purely as I could to be acceptable for him and be called His daughter.

Second, I have lived for my purpose, whatever it could be, I wanted to live for me to discover why I am really here in this earth and I probably did discover it. ;-)

Third, I wanted to live until I reach my shining star, until I reach my goal in life, until I could take hold of my ultimate dream.

Fourth, I have lived for my family and my loved ones for they are my foundation to whom I can always depend on.

Fifth, I have lived for my life. I have lived enjoying my life fully so I may be able to satisfy myself of the love of God for me as His child, as a member of his family. And perhaps I had.

CHAPTER 2 These Things I have Loved in Life…

There are lots of things I have loved in my in my whole life. I love life so much and all the things that goes with it whether good or bad. They are so many to mention but I will tell you some of my favorites.

I loved reading, watching TV, and sleeping. If you did not find me doing the other, I was certainly doing the other. But I am more seen propped with pillows, sitting beside the window, reading. I like Dr. Robin Cook’s science-fiction books. I love Clive Cussler's Dirk Pitt adventures. I also enjoy reading inspirational books and leadership books by Max Lucado. Worth mentioning as well my number one book, my Bible. :) 

With regards to food, any was fine just as long as it will not cause me stomachache, allergies and asthma. The list is quite a lot but we can just settle on veggies and fruits.

I loved watching action movies as well as inspirational ones. I specially liked The Matrix Trilogy (Keanu Reeves), Avatar (Sam Worthington & Zoe Saldana), Titanic (Leonardo DiCaprio & Kate Winslet), Tears of the Sun (Bruce Willis), Artificial Intelligence: AI (Haley Joel Osmont), Pay it Forward (Haley Joel Osmont & Helen Hunt), Notting Hill (Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant), Fireproof (Kirk Cameron & Erin Bethea) and a lot more!

Sometimes, when I preferred something serene, I just watched the once-azure sky slowly turning into grey and darker as the evening sky approaches and perhaps listen to the small night sounds drifting from afar or simply listen to music.

I loved silence, too. Believe you me. Aside from the fact that I usually study when everyone had already dozed off to sleep, this is also the time when I had my quite times with God.

There are also times when I preferred to do nothing. Just sit and listen to the night sounds. I loved it when I hear the whooping sound o f the wind and the musical tone of the falling rain. Moreover, I sometimes wonder how life would be without them. So, so…boring. Don't you think so, too?

So there you have it, you now know some of my favorites but there is still one thing more. One should also treasure and love his/her life for it is the greatest gift one could ever give and also receive.

CHAPTER 3 These are My Life’s Achievements…

As young as I am, I wouldn’t probably say that I have achieved much in my life for there are still so many things I long to do. But for the 19 years, I could say that I have achieved more than I expected.

As a daughter, I hope I did all my best for my parents to be happy for I believed that being one of the sources of other people’s happiness is already a great achievement.

Being committed as a student, was also an achievement. Being able to bring glory to one’s school, division and even region is another one. Being a volunteer of Silliman Pathways Youth Group which supports fellow scholars, I can say, was one of my greatest achievement as of now and that being able to lend a helping hand is very satisfying.

Indeed, what an achievement it was to be a blessing to someone else’s life.

CHAPTER 4 These Experiences I have Cherished…

All of life’s experiences, for me, were really worth cherishing (whether they may be good or bad) for both are still essential to each and every being’s existence. I bet these pages will not suffice for the space needed to tell you the experiences I cherished. So please allow me to share only so few of them.

One of those was when I was in grade 6 and won, among all other elementary schools in Dumaguete City, the 5th place in Editorial Writing. The sad part though was I was not able to join the regional due to lack of funds. I felt quite sad about it but it was as if a whole bunch of me was happy to discover my writing skill. And so, I decided to develop it with the aim that, someday, I will reach the national level. It was quite an absurd idea though for a 6th grader.

When I was in high school, I joined  journalism workshops and eventually became a staff of our official school paper - THE HORN. And so it was during my 4th year when I became one of Region 7’s three Feature Writers to represent the region to the national level press conference. Truly, I really could not quite imagine how a young mind’s wish was realized. I knew then that if one really aims for something and focuses him/herself to it, and no matter what the obstacles were, are, and will be along the way, he/she will always be able to reach them with God’s abiding grace.

Another one of my experiences was when I was still in high school. I was then a Math Club member and we did an outreach program at one of the Municipality of Valencia’s (a neighboring town southwest of Dumaguete) orphanages. We brought food, clothing and other gifts for the kids.

Upon reaching the place manned by Nuns, the children were also their welcoming us with their innocent smiles. They were jumping, laughing and running around as if it was their first time to be visited. What I saw on my part though was the exact opposite. Hidden behind my smile was my sympathy for the children who were up to 10 years of age and there were also babies! My heart wholly went out for them. My heart was breaking.

There, we had a program and the children also presented their talents. We prayed, we ate, and then we chatted for hours. Upon hearing their stories, I felt a sudden rush of pain, fear and guilt. Pain because of what the children were going through. Fear of what they might become in the future. Guilt because instead of thinking that I am lucky, I sometimes am attacked with discontentment of what I had.

What I learned then was to be content with whatever I had while also working with what I do not have, be happy with it and thank God all the time.

CHAPTER 5 These Sufferings Have Seasoned Me…

Why me? Why do we have to suffer?  Why are we experiencing all these hurts and aches?  Haven’t you asked the same question yourself?  I had. Loads of times. But as I grew up, I came to realize that what I thought about and experienced as a “suffering” was no more than an inch to what others are struggling with.

Let me tell you one that had caused me and my family so much pain- a story from our past. 

Before, even when I was still young, I always ( I bet my siblings, too) notice this on-and-off strife of my parents against my father’s siblings.  I did not exactly know the reason, perhaps I was too young then. Then came the years of peacefulness.  But it was when my Grandma (father’s mother) died on the Christmas day of 2002.  I thought, with the loss of our beloved, we will become closer but it did not happen.  The next year, Eldest Uncle (Father’s eldest brother) passed away but instead of helping one another, this created a greater distance between his family and ours.  Then during the next year, next eldest uncle died.

Those three successive years was such a traumatizing one for our family.  Those three years took the biggest chunk of our ties as a family.  Those three years triggered our family ties with our father’s side to loosen up fully.  I was confused why, during that time of crisis, we happened to become like that—broken apart.

Now, our family has been living with ourselves alone. Though we had no one but each other, we go through each obstacle in life together.  Through these hurdles in life, we became stronger and prepared, ready for whatever might lay ahead of us.

So why do we have to suffer? I, with all my heart, believe that God wants us to have stronger faith, to become better and stronger individuals.  He wants us to know that He’s always there, that He’s waiting for us to call Him and that His strength is ours to lean on.  He wants us to realize that His compassion is ours to receive and even in times of our stability, He is always there. He is preparing our character to receive that gift we have long been waiting to have.

CHAPTER 5 These Lessons Have Taught Me…

In  my young and human  mind, I just could not quite comprehend why we, humans, were so vulnerable to mistakes and why we could not simply avoid and prevent ourselves from doing so. I will be sharing some of the lessons I have learned through the course of my 19 years of existence in this world.

Before, when I was still a child, I was really such a “kapayason” child meaning I was such a “crybaby” that whenever I was scolded, I cried. Whenever I had a problem that seemed to be out of control, I cried.  I sought out everything to crying.  But it was one day when my brother asked me what’s the use of my crying when everything’s already been done and could not be changed anymore. He opened my eyes then.  “ No use to crying over spilled milk.”  Why cry with such simple things?  Why cry when you could choose to pray instead?

Crying is neither bad nor is it wrong. Furthermore, I even read somewhere that crying is a gift from God. He gave it for us to have company whenever we are alone, it also cleanses the soul that full recovery and healing may do their part afterwards.

And I guess instead of relying only to crying, why not pray.  There, one will have every opportunity to communicate with God.

Another one of my very bad habit was what we call the “manana” habit. In Filipino, the “mamaya na” habit. I always did things at the brink of time.  And so it was in my 3rd year high school, we had a project making the basics of cross stitching.  Thinking that the deadline’s still hidden behind the pages of the calendar, I dillydallied.  Then all of a sudden, here comes the deadline! Cut the long story short, I made the project overnight and was not able to sleep just to finish the project and worse, my father would not allow me to go to school that morning because I had no sleep at all.

So that was it.  But God really is good because I was able to finish my project. I learned my lesson.  “Do what we have to do now before ‘now’ could be too late.”

Upon reminiscing, I remembered the day I was till about 5 when our Aunt scolded us for playing with her karaoke.  Feeling sad and ashamed about it as young as I was, I did not accompany her to church that Sunday as I used to.  My mother asked me why and she then told me that carrying a grudge within us is not good and that who’s affected is ourselves alone. I then apologized to my Aunt the next day. Truly what a great feeling knowing we have no hatred within us.  Always remember that sulking will cause no good but anxiety and paranoia. Looking back, I realized that though they may be simple, the above are very nice and foundational lessons for a youngster.

CHAPTER 6 These Ideas Have Liberated Me…

What I had noticed is the people’s misconception of the word “liberated”.  This word comes from the root word “liberate” which literally means “to set free”.  But people, especially teenagers usually associate this term with something we-know-what.

If we are going to take it figuratively, liberate means “to take us out from the dark cave of ignorance” for it’s through these ideas that we are able to see through the dark, see through our close-mindedness, see through our hard-headedness.

Let us take for example our “going to school”.  This is a means of liberating and preparing us to the world beyond.  The lessons in school are the ideas we need in order to be liberated, to be free from ignorance, innocence, and to, perhaps, help prevent us from sinning.

Our ideas from our values class about good and bad, our principles and formulas in Mathematics and Physics, our knowing about the what’s, why’s, how’s in Science and others are the ideas which sets us free from the grasp of naiveté. 

CHAPTER 7 These Convictions I have Lived by…

I had always believed that no matter how big the waves that pushes us back ashore, we should not stop rowing our boat.

One should not get discouraged when things go beyond his/her expectations.  But let us remember instead that the greatest glory is net life’s never falling but rising every time we fall.

A smile, too, does help.  Welcoming a new day with a smile on our face, love in our hearts and fine thoughts in our minds will surely usher a great day ahead of us.  Smile also means happiness but it isn’t found when we seek it ourselves.  However, when we give it to others, it will definitely find its way back to whoever gave it.

God never promised us an easy journey in life.  He sometimes delays His help to test our faith and energize our prayers.  He is always with us though.  All we have to do is to hold His hand tightly and He will lead us safely.

So why not focus our minds on things that are beautiful?  Life’s too short to waste on worries.  Let us think of solutions instead, and not of problems.

Lastly, let us forever engrave in our minds and in our hearts that “Life is a gift from God. What we do with our lives is our gift and offering to Him.”

CHAPTER 8 These Beliefs I have Outgrown…

My friends, why is it that we should not cut our nails or comb our hair at night? Why should we not sweep our house at night? Why should we wear polka dots on New Year’s Day? Why should we step on ashes before entering the house from attending a burial? I still have quite a list of questions in my mind but I might not have enough space. These are just few of the beliefs our folks have passed from one generation to another. I respect our elders. But, with all due respect, for me, they are all but superstitious beliefs with no scientific basis or explanations. Furthermore,  as I took a closer look to each one of the above questions I came to ask myself, “Why do we allow our lives to be run by such beliefs?” We should not, for though the future is unknown, we have a Known and an All-Knowing God.

CHAPTER 9 These Insights Have Arrived Through the Course of My Life…

Through the years, I came to realize the truth that God is the Best Lover of all time and of course, the also the Best Disciplinarian of all. He loves us so much that He gave us freewill to do whatever we want to do be it good or bad. He is the best disciplinarian because He allows us to reap the consequences of our actions whether they are good or bad.

Indeed, the world is God’s manifestation of that love. It is a place where He expresses His Love for us and as well as the place where we can do the same. Moreover, man’s nature of being vulnerable to sin should not be a license to doing mistakes. Why not prevent it from happening instead? That way, we would not be able to sin and blame ourselves in the end. Yes, there are circumstances where we are caught in sin’s spell-binding web making things out of control. I had been praying than we always ask God to lead us to the right path.

What is love, by the way? Love is described in so many different ways by so many authors but don’t you know that the shortest definition of love is just found in the Bible? God is Love (1 John 4:8). He is the Greatest Lover of all time.

Another insight I want to share is about prayer. Is it not that it is through prayer that we are able to communicate with God? It is the one and only channel by which we can talk to Him. Prayer, when done sincerely and wholeheartedly, can be so powerful for through prayers, He hears more than we say, He answers more than we ask and gives more than we desire. All He needs is our time.

Last but definitely not the least insight I learned is the truth that Jesus Christ is our only Salvation. He died in the cross and shed His blood so that our sins may be forgiven. The best Rabbi of all time,  He’s the bridge that connects us to the Heavenly Father.

CHAPTER 10 These Influences Have Shaped My Life…

My parents had always been the main factor of the development of my well-being. They were the ones who nourished, nurtured and protected me. They were my first teachers and I will never forget the lessons they taught me. That is also why I love them so much that I did everything for them to be happy.

Second in line are my siblings who were my supporters, fans and advisers. They are my collaborators, my mentors and of course, my tormentors. :) 

Next are my teachers who greatly added more to what I learned from home. They helped in broadening my knowledge and opening my eyes wide to see the real meaning of life and life beyond school and to live up to it.

In addition, all the people around me most especially my friends, also played a very huge role to my growth as a person and as to who I am now.

Being a wide-reader, books also influenced my life. I read different books with different genres. My number one book is my Bible for it is through it that my life slowly found its meaning. I also love my dictionary for it taught me lots of things I could not imagine. When I read, I always see to it that my dictionary is right beside me for whatever things that need clarifications especially words I hadn’t came across yet.

Truly, reading is a very wonderful habit and I suggest that you start doing it, too. The next time you do, you will be soaring to places you have never been, meeting people you have never met, and watching sceneries you have never seen. I can vouch for this!

CHAPTER 11 These Persons are Enshrined in My Life…

“No man is an island.” Exactly. Humans as we are, we are sociable beings always inclined to be in constant contact with other people. Well, who are these people from whom we learned about such? Yes, the people nearest us. As for me, they are my parents, siblings, friends, teachers and mentors.

But there is still someone who wants to have a relationship and fellowship with us. Jesus Christ. With Him as the center of our lives, everything will always be at bay. With our parents, we will be always assured with their love; with our family, we will always be secured with their protective embrace; with our friends, we will be assured that life is worth living with their caring smiles, with our teachers and mentors, we will always be lead to the right path.

Yes, believe me, get out of your shell and go out to the world that excitedly awaits you.

CHAPTER 12 The End…The Beginning…The Reality…

As a teenager, I still had plans to do, lots of things to accomplish, lots of things I wanted to have, etc. etc.

Yes, I did say that one should be content. Contentment is all about having Jesus Christ in our lives. His SHALOM in our loves. And Jesus also wants us to enjoy live and continue working and offer our everything to Him. 

Dream big. Dream for your family, for the orphans, for the street children, for yourself. I had lots of dreams. Yes, I knew, my dreams are still too far beyond for me to reach. I still felt like I am inside my small boat constantly rowing, not knowing where to go with this vast ocean of life. Though I may not know where this life’s current leads me, though I am unaware where this wind will toss me, thought the fog of insufficiency blurs my vision with uncertainty, I believed I did continue on rowing for I knew that God was (for me) and will (for your all) always be here, guiding.

These are just few of the marvelous things, which you can explore upon voyaging through this vast sea we call life. 

Bon voyage!

Adios, my friends,

Daylinda C. Barba

[its-love-u-asshole]

Shaking in My Skull [Ch. 7]

Pairing: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki

Rating: T

Summary: Stuck on the plane between life and death, Saruhiko makes the decision to risk everything, forced to find faith in himself and the headstrong Yata Misaki as they both face unimaginable demons.

FFF I’m sorry it took forever to update this lmao I went through a really severe writing block, but it felt so great to get back to this, thanks for your patience <3 This story has one or two chapters left at most, so I’m very excited for what’s to come! Enjoy! Big thanks to @emeraldwaves​ for reading this over!

Ao3 Version

I also made an 8tracks for this fic if anyone is interested ^^ 

"What could you give up?"

It was a simple question, one Saruhiko had never pondered before. Sure, there would be times on rainy days or nights when Domyoji or Hidaka would feel extra introspective, maybe after seeing a weird movie, and similar questions would fly around the office.

What's worse, failing or never trying?

Is there something holding you back right now?

Are you happy?

He'd always viewed them as somewhat pointless. Why dwell on the answer to a question if the situation never arose? Why worry about if you are happy, when you could just work on trying to be? That's what Seri had said, and it made sense. Saruhiko never indulged any of them with his own answers, simply nodded along to whatever she or Akiyama said.

It was better that way. Looking back, he couldn't say if he avoided the questions simply because he deemed them worthless, or because he didn't want to face the answers.

But now, he didn't have a choice. He was posed the question, and given the solution, like some backwards exam. Except it wasn't multiple choice, there weren't alternatives. Only one outcome, one way out, and he had to go with it.

He wanted to throw up, wanted to go back to the ghost of his father and bone graveyards, anywhere else but here.

When they'd first stepped through the door, he'd felt like something was off, could feel his mind being picked apart even within his own skull, like something was searching for the soft spots, and again there was that voice, those eyes, this place...

The door had disappeared behind them. Gone. No going back. As if he needed that reminder anymore. He scanned the room, tapping Misaki on the shoulder, so as to make sure he was still there.

It was strange how much the room resembled a shack of some sorts, comfortable, but oddly out of place. There was a torn up couch and a table in the middle, poorly masquerading as a humble living space, surrounded by darkness and the cold cave rock.

A shattered illusion, essentially. Nothing about the space felt easy, though it did give the impression of multiple...people...occupying it.

As Saruhiko's eyes grazed over the tattered blankets and documents with various signatures, he couldn't help but be surprised. He'd assumed Munakata and Mikoto were the only human-like figures down here, but that had been a mistake it seemed, confirmed upon meeting Douhan. He just didn't know how many he expected, how many other deities he'd be forced to meet.

And then, standing in front of them had been another, and those pale eyes were like spikes through his soul. Looking into them....that had been Saruhiko's first error.

The man was seated, strapped to a wheelchair of some sorts, confined but smiling regardless, his eyes searching in a way that was so different. Different from Munakata's calculating gaze, or Douhan's commanding one. It was if those eyes were trying to pull something out of them, and Saruhiko didn't like it at all. But a force of some kind kept him rooted to the spot, forced to let the exchange of information, or whatever it was, flow seamlessly between them until the moment was over. It was like a snap, like when a computer would overheat at work and click off. Instantaneous, leaving a slight hum in its wake.

The man let his shaggy hair fall in front of one eye as he finally blinked, and Saruhiko felt Misaki jolt at the same time he did, the spell ending for both of them as their muscles tensed.

They were waiting for...well he didn't know, did he? This was a trial, but the common format of the previous ones was apparently out the window. They had to wait for instructions, and the knowledge of that was making him more anxious than walking into immediate peril did.

Misaki inched closer to him out of discomfort, letting their shoulders brush, and Saruhiko exhaled from the slight solace he got from it.

Misaki is here with me, and I'm with him. It's fine.

Except it hadn't been.

--

"While wasting time isn't an issue for you, I think we should move this along, yes?" The man spoke, the words slow and smooth as he tilted his head forward. Yata wouldn't call his demeanor kind or inviting in any sense, but it was purposeful, respectful. Yata spared a glance at Saruhiko, whose face was set in an odd grimace, like he wasn't sure what to make of the man either. They stepped forward hesitantly, not really believing the simple room with its bound occupant and lack of danger.

This was the last trial so...what the hell?

"I'll congratulate you, but I'm sure you've been hearing that a lot. Still, it’s admirable you've made it this far, you two must be really special. Impressing Ambition herself is difficult," he continued, looking away fondly to a framed picture. Yata followed the gaze, noting Douhan sitting primly on the floor in front of the man, along with three others who smiled happily.

He wanted to ask, but decided it didn't matter. He could tell enough from the picture, styled very much like a typical family photo, and he decided the guy in front of them couldn't be too evil, if not seriously strange.

Everyone had the things they loved, and it made Yata feel weirdly jealous, that he wasn't with his own family, back to life with Saruhiko, hands dirtied with paint instead of blood.

Soon though. Soon he would be.

"Impressing me will be a challenge too," he said with a smile, wide eyes flashing in excitement when Saruhiko glared. “I am the deity of Change, but you may call me Hisui Nagare. That’s what I used to be called, but don’t worry, it’s not important for you to know.” His lips quirked a little more, barely noticeable. “It’s not a memory test you’ll be given after all.”

In the past, Yata might’ve jumped on the scraps of information offered, given into any spiel this magical being had, but Yata wasn't having it with the riddles or verbal games anymore. He was tired of waiting. He was curious sure, they could sit there for hours while Nagare told them who he was, what this place was, but what was the point? Yata only had one thing he wanted, and he wanted to be back home.

"We don't care what it is, we'll do it!" Yata didn't so much as flinch when Nagare's eyes snapped to his own. "Bring it on!"

For as much as Yata had been afraid throughout the journey, he was proud he'd never lost his determination, his pride in himself, no matter how many times it faltered. Now was no exception. He was damn exhausted and desperate, but he wouldn't kneel, he'd face whatever came at him head on until he couldn't stand anymore, and then he'd crawl.

He felt Saruhiko relax next to him a little at the words, and Yata took the opportunity to squeeze his hand, their interlocked fingers rough from effort.

He hoped Saruhiko hadn't lost anything either, in fact, Yata could only think he had gained. Saruhiko was still Saruhiko, and so much more.

Funny, Yata thought. He didn't know how time worked in the afterlife, but he had only known Saruhiko for the duration of their journey, and yet he felt like they had a bond that could never be severed.

Nagare sized them up for but a moment, his eyes focusing on their linked hands as his restraints tightened around him. Maybe one day, far in the future, Yata would remember to ask who he was, how he'd gotten there. But for now...

"You heard him, what's the trial?" Saruhiko's thumb rubbed the back of Yata's palm, silently searching for ground.

"Yes, very well. Let's proceed." Nagare nodded, stiff and quick, eyes closing as a serene smile bloomed on his face. "It won't take long, well, depending on you that is. It's not so much a trial as a question you see."

At that, Yata's brow furrowed in confusion. That was it?

"And since you seem so eager," Nagare said, inclining his head towards Yata. "Why don't you start. Someone so passionate..."

It didn't sound like an insult, but Yata couldn't help but glare anyways. Nothing that came out of Nagare's mouth sounded good or bad either way, but it was laced with something he couldn't pinpoint. "A question? Whatever! No problem!"

Really, he should've known by now never to expect the best, but he had an image to uphold, even in death.

"Hm, so you say. It's more like a few questions, a survey if you will." Nagare moved his chair forward, closing the gap between them, and Yata took the chance to glance at Saruhiko, finding some small security in those blue eyes. The taller nodded, and it was all Yata needed to know he had the other's complete faith. He turned back to Nagare, and the seated man took it as his cue. "Alright. Yata Misaki, age twenty, born on July 20th, and died on the evening of August 14th on the Shizume bridge. Cause of death: drowning after being run off the road by a stray vehicle. Hobbies include skateboarding, video games, and painting. Then there is a list of relatives and friends who play important roles in your life, along with some trivial history. That is the basic summary of your life, found in your file."

Yata hardly registered the last part. He felt his body jolt, and he heard the sound of a car horn blare in his ears, the distinct screech of metal against metal ringing throughout his thoughts, a flash of red, the smell of burning rubber...

He was late again, he had stayed too long at the bar with his friends, and now he was going to have to deal with the crowds around his apartment complex.

"Ugh, maybe I should've let one of the guys come with me," Yata mumbled to himself as he made it to the halfway point on the bridge. If it got too dark, he'd surely get lost, he never did get used to this short cut. Traffic was already pretty heavy, the aggressive rush hour taking its toll on impatient cars as they cut each other off and honked loudly. Yata should've just stayed at the bar for the night. Kusanagi wouldn't have minded...

Yata hadn't wanted to impose though. He knew the bartender was stressed about his wedding, and probably wanted to go home to his fiance, not stay worrying over Yata locking up the bar. Fuck, they had the rehearsal dinner tomorrow too...Yata hated wearing suits, and Kusanagi's wife was way too pretty for him to not make an idiot of himself around. On top of it, she was bringing her friends and family too, even more reason for Yata to feel awkward.

"Ughhh," he groaned again, really wishing he hadn't stayed out as late as he had. Now he wouldn't get to bed until late, and tomorrow was sure to be hectic and filled with planning...

Maybe--

A loud horn broke his thoughts, and Yata glanced over to the traffic at his side, barely having time to gasp as a car stupidly switched lanes at the wrong time and at a way too aggressive speed for the current congestion, colliding with the red convertible next to it and sending it careening to the side of the bridge.

Right towards him. Yata jumped, landing on the car’s hood and roughly sliding into the windshield, knocking the air right out of him. His vision blanked, and the last thing he was able to comprehend was the car lurching forward, and the feeling of falling.

Yata tensed, and suddenly it was like he couldn't breathe. It was like he wanted to cough, heave maybe, and it was only Saruhiko's hand on his that kept him in reality.

White. That was what had happened next. He saw white, and the blue of Saruhiko's eyes.

Fuck...

He remembered. Not in its entirety, but he knew it was the truth.

I drowned. I was walking home, there was an accident. I fell...

"Holy shit..."

"I know it might be a shock," Nagare stated, sensing the distress Yata was no doubt emanating.

I'm so stupid. I knew I shouldn't have gone that way so late. I could've avoided everything. All of this...

"I figured it was something like that," Saruhiko voiced, expression softening when he caught Yata's watery eyes.

"H-huh?"

Saruhiko looked about as pathetic as Yata felt, and for whatever reason, the urge to quell his worries seemed to relieve Yata of some of his own anguish. Saruhiko reached out, grabbing Yata's other hand and facing him completely. "Before you woke up...you were coughing really bad, gasping for air...I'm...sorry."

The apology sounded awkward, but Yata knew it was genuine, and it was that alone that already had his mind wafting through the cloud of disappointment in his mind.

It didn't matter that he’d died, if he hadn't, if he had somehow avoided it, he wouldn't have been able to help Saruhiko make it back. He wouldn't have met Saruhiko at all, the taller had died before him, a complete stranger. Somehow the thought was worse than the idea of facing Saruhiko's grieving friends by himself the next day due to the cancelled dinner, so in a strange way, he was grateful. The journey was awful, but they'd made it, and now Yata knew Saruhiko better than he could've hoped, and never wanted to be without him.

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault anyways..." Yata mumbled, pushing down his urge to wrap Saruhiko up in a hug. "I'm here now, with you, and we'll be back soon, together." Yata turned back to Nagare, shaking off the last of his shock. He could worry about it later, much later. "Right after these questions yeah? So let's have it!"

"Well put," Nagare said with a nod. "As I said, that was a summary of your life, but you and I both know humans are much more complex than that. Your thoughts and desires are powerful, and your resolve has proved powerful throughout this whole journey. You've grown and changed, and if you are granted life again, you will change even more." Nagare back up a bit, eyeing the photo on the mantle once more before turning back to Yata. "But, what I'm interested in is the now. I want to know what has to change."

What?

"That being said, Yata Misaki, what are you looking forward to when you get your life back?"

Yata stuttered, and well, he couldn't help it. What kind of stupid question was that? "U-uh..."

"When you started this journey, what was driving you?"

"W-well...my friends and family obviously, I want to get back and see them an--"

"Was that really the most important thing at the start? When you thought of what you'd left behind, you were angry, or so I was told. Why?"

Yata all but growled. Who was this guy to tell him what he valued? Of course his friends were important to him, not to mention his family, and there was...

“I was going to be a great artist you know…was gonna give all the other snobs a run for their money…”

"Oh." Yata froze, not really meaning to voice the realization aloud, if it could even be called that. He swallowed, trying to shrug it off, but something in his stomach told him he'd found the right answer.

But so what? Yeah he loved his art, he wanted to share it and make it into a career, it wasn't abnormal. Lots of people cared about their job...

Yeah, but it was all you cared about, it was the first thing on your mind.

His stomach twisted, and he shook his head despite himself. He knew Saruhiko was looking at him in concern, but he didn't have the heart to look back. All these fears, repressed or new, he didn't know, came rushing up. He was selfish, simple minded....

“I had my first gallery showing next week..."

Right. What a joke.

The worst part was, he couldn't find himself regretting those words from before. It mattered to him, it would always matter to him.

"My art," he whispered feebly. Yeah, his art was a big part of him, it was supposed to change his life, secure his future no matter how hard he had to struggle for it. Now he just felt like he was kidding himself, putting his skills up on a pedestal in his heart when most people would consider it trivial. Yata frowned at the floor, mouth softly opening, unable to find words. Nagare didn't see any issue with continuing regardless.

"Yes, you care very much about it right? There were quite a few pieces of your work in your file, one of my companions actually complimented you. Youth isn't...the easiest to please either." Nagare let his neutral expression fall for but a moment before it was back again, but Yata didn't dwell on it. He was still a little too overcome with everything, he couldn't shake the guilt, didn't even feel proud of the compliment like usual. "It's a form of self-expression, art, and it obviously was a very integral part of your daily life."

"Um...not really, well..." Yeah it was. "I guess it doesn't sound like much to most people..."

Certainly not enough to be someone's first concern upon fucking dying.

But it had been his everything, his drive and passion, he was never happier than when he was sketching or painting, and the facts remained true. So why...

"There's no reason to feel guilty," Nagare supplied in his same, steady tone. It wasn't meant as a comfort, more like he was stating a fact. "It's human nature to indulge in things you value, if you didn't have any passions or interests, it would be more troublesome for me to ask my questions. It's normal. Now..."

Normal.

He knew he wasn't a failure, at least he tried to believe it most of the time. He was good at what he did, he wanted to be even better, how was that different from any other job? Of course it had been on his mind, it was part of his life and future.

Maybe he wasn't as selfish as he thought. And as for the people in his life...

"Tell me, what is it about art that you love?" Nagare, whether he meant to or not, seemed to spark Yata's findings.

"It's a challenge." His voice was still shaky, but as the words flowed, he felt the guilt dissolving, his insecurities leaving him as a grin formed. "It takes effort and time, and sometimes you fail, but when you succeed and finish a piece of work it's the fucking best feeling in the world. It makes me feel proud of myself, but mostly..."

He remembered the late nights where he stayed up, the truthful and encouraging critiques of his friends, the first sketchbook his mom bought him when he was little, and a plethora of good memories where his sketched lines and mixed paints intertwined with his life and the people in it.

"It's an extension of me, and what I'm feeling, and when I'm having fun with my friends or thinking about my mom, it comes out in my work! It's all important to me, and art lets me share that, and when I can, I know all the people who support me are happy too." And that's more than enough.

It's all important, it'll always be important.

"Good.” Nagare’s voice was small then, but something about it made Yata tense. “Now, could you give it up?"

Yata felt as if his words were completely disregarded with the singular statement, and he choked on his reply, because surely there had to be something more. "W-what?"

Nagare blinked, eyes lowering slightly from their usually wide appearance, patient if nothing else. "That is your question, that is your test. Will you give it up? Upon leaving the afterlife, your knowledge of art, the skills learned and acquired, gone. If you desire to return more than anything else, you will be able to let it go."

Give it up.

Hours of sketching, of shitty part time hours working for supplies, pictures and portraits of his life. Gone. Given up.

As if it was so easy to strip away what made Yata whole.

He didn't know if he moved or not, his brain stalling at the words, but he felt Saruhiko jolt next to him, equally stunned, but still being able to comprehend it. Yata couldn't blame him, it wasn't as if he'd just been asked to throw away a big part of himself, but Yata couldn't help but be slightly envious of the clarity.

Was this some kind of joke? All that...for what? Give it up? How could he? What was even the point of having him remember all the great things about his work, about how it influenced him?

Because it's fucked up that's why, this whole place.

Yata wanted to be as angry as he should be, but his face muscles trembled, and he bit his lip hard to block the show of hurt. Nagare stood there all the while as he processed, not cruel or conniving, just...like he was going through the motions. Maybe that made it even worse, because Nagare wasn't giving him anything to yell at, no 'you're pathetic' or 'bet you thought this was easy.' So, it came naturally to him, his next words, as small and helpless as they sounded. "Why?"

Nagare tilted his head, much like the parrot from before. "It's simple really. Not only is it endurance, because after all, it shows how willing you are to complete the journey. However, for me it's telling in other ways." His greyish eyes moved towards the wall, where the portrait sat along with other old, unidentifiable artifacts, much like those in Douhan's area. "Life tends to not go as planned, it's why you're here in the first place. Dreams have to be abandoned at times, connections severed, relationships lost."

Yata's first instinct was to snap back about not fighting hard enough for things, that giving up was a choice people made without trying, but he knew better now. It wasn't always the case, it couldn't be helped at times, and he had no right to judge.

But this wasn't like that. He had a choice, he had made it. He'd sacrificed everything to make it back to his life so he could pursue his passion, not have it taken away.

The response was there, burning on his tongue, but he held it.

"I know it must appear useless and unfair, but you must understand, I believe the sign of someone truly worthy of making it past this point of the journey is someone who is able to leave things behind no matter how painful. They are the ones who are not afraid to move forward and find new ways to enjoy their life, and search for the fulfillment they lost. They embrace change. That's what makes you worthy, if you can give me a yes to that one question."

The tears spilled somewhere in the middle of that, he stopped caring, stopped functioning really.

Saruhiko growled next to him. "What's the use in that? You'll just take it away anyways!" His grip was a vice on Yata's hand, but it trembled from fear, Yata could hear it lacing his voice.

Right, Saruhiko would lose something too. It made him cry harder.

"No, I wouldn't allow it. Your response has to be truly honest, you have to mean it. And believe me, I will know if you don't." Nagare bowed his head. "When you reach hell, you will find out whether or not your response was enough."

Saruhiko snapped again. "What the--"

"Saru..." Yata tried, but his voice was scratchy. He had to do this himself, it was his question. His gut twisted at the reminder. "Let me, p-please."

It made Saruhiko back off, but he stayed rooted to his side, and Yata couldn't be more grateful. We'll get through anything together. Isn't that what he'd always said? If he returned to life after hitting the reset button on his art, well, he'd have Saruhiko, he'd have his family and friends.

His inspiration.

"H-hey," Yata began, clearing his throat and wincing at the noise. "If I say yes, can I never make art again?"

"No, as I said, the skills and effort you've put into it will be cleared, but if you so choose, you are free to take up the challenge of learning again and restore it," Nagare answered immediately, a barely there smile joining the words. It must've been the response he was looking for. "After all, such traits are valued."

Yata would have all he needed, the drive, and the things he loved to influence his creativity. It would be hard, but he wouldn't lose anything if wanted it.

And he really wanted it.

"Do you think you're capable of it? Remember, you have to mean it."

I always say what I mean.

"Yes," Yata answered without hesitation, because that part of himself he knew all too well. If he put his mind to it, no matter how long it took, he would be an artist again. If it was meant to be, he could do it. There would be no point in doubting himself anymore, not after this.

Nagare's smile stretched a bit farther, and Yata's nerves tingled as he made the final decision.

"So then, will you give it up?" Do you want your life back?

Saruhiko's breathing faltered beside him, and Yata fixed the taller with a stern gaze, because yes, he was sure about this, before tilting his chin up at Nagare.

I can embrace change too.

"Yes."

--

It wasn't like Saruhiko didn't know Misaki was amazing, in fact, he'd come to the logical realization long ago, perhaps before he decided to actually admit it to himself. Back when Misaki was simply an overly determined stranger with too bright eyes and a voice begging Saruhiko to help him, to get their lives back.

“We could get our lives back!”

“What’s scarier than death?”

“C’mon! Don’t you have anyone you miss? Or that misses you?”

Saruhiko had picked apart the genuine words, but he'd caved in the end hadn't he? Did he regret it? He couldn't find it in himself to, and it was such a stark contrast to what he would expect from himself. It wasn't cowardly or negative, and he was as shocked as he was terrified at the admission. How easy it had been, falling into the redhead's pace, adopting his goals. Now Saruhiko knew how powerful the other truly was, how convincing and passionate. It was obvious from the beginning, how Saruhiko really never stood a chance. He thought that maybe, just maybe, his old self would've been angry about that. Would've been repulsed, pushed the other away because truthfully, he didn't understand people like Misaki. He'd never be someone like Misaki. Not fully.

But he had changed a lot, not only from the journey, but before as well. His younger self and the adult Saruhiko, were very different, only connected by the threads of trauma permanently woven into him.

And now...

He may not have gained the unbridled enthusiasm and spirit Misaki had, he never would, those parts of him had long been cut off, stomped into the ground along with his childhood. But he had his resolve, he had his desires, his skills, and the goals which had spawned from Misaki were now purely his.

But in this case...

What could you give up?

The doubt was still there. Yes Misaki was amazing, and he showed it even more so now, being able to give up something which Saruhiko meant the world to him. Difficulty aside, he'd done it.

Dread pooled in Saruhiko's stomach, and he didn't know why. Part of him figured it was the unknown variable. He always hated those. Nagare would pick out something from his life he deemed important to Saruhiko, but the taller really didn't know what.

But no, he knew that wasn't all of it. It wasn't so much that Misaki's bravery made Saruhiko feel like a coward, though it definitely did that too...he wasn't sure if when in Misaki's place, he'd be able to do the same. But it was more because he couldn't distinguish what he coveted so dearly. Could he really say he was super passionate about anything? Saruhiko had been so indifferent all his life, and it wasn't until he'd found a purposeful job and slowly let his friends into his life that things changed. He liked his job, he was good at it, but he wouldn't call it a passion. He didn't love it.

His life was relatively simple and boring. Peaceful, but by no means special, and he liked it that way. He didn't need much, he'd been through enough when he was younger. Having a routine, a place to keep him warm, and a close knit group of people who he trusted, it was all he felt the need for.

Saruhiko watched as Misaki dried his tears clumsily with his free hand, refusing to break the connection between them with his other, and the dread was intensified.

What if this wouldn't work on him? What if he held them back, because there was nothing special about him to lose?

"You're incorrect Fushimi-san." Nagare's voice sliced through his thoughts, calm as ever, and Misaki's amber eyes flashed up to meet Saruhiko's own in confusion. It weirdly stung, which wasn't common with Misaki. Looking at Misaki always calmed him considerably, but now it made the dread pool tenfold and Saruhiko turned away like he'd been slapped.

He snarled at Nagare, damn him. Of course he was aware of the telepathic abilities of these deities, but he didn't get their scope and he certainly couldn't detect them in his head, and it made him feel overly exposed in the worst way. More than that, having Misaki aware of his inner turmoil was the last thing he wanted. So, he'd do what came naturally. He'd deny.

He never got the chance.

"Shut--"

"You're wrong Fushimi-san," Nagare pressed on, holding his head high in observation. Saruhiko tried to loosen his grip on Misaki's hand, but the redhead wasn't allowing it.

"Saru...what is he--"

"I don't need your all knowing wisdom," Saruhiko growled. "Stay out of my--"

"You care about many things, just more subtle. You're standing next to one, for example," Nagare said, gesturing to their joined hands, and Saruhiko instinctively stepped closer to Misaki, bumping into him unexpectedly when the redhead did the same. The dread was surged with fear, because as unbelievable as it was, part of his resolve was getting Misaki out of there, getting them back home and being alive and together. No, he wouldn't give that up.

Nagare nodded in placation. "But that's not what I'm after. I seek something from your life, remember? What you valued most, at the start of it all, and what has endured."

Saruhiko's eyes narrowed. "Enlighten me."

A nod, that's all that prepared him. "As I said, you care about many things, and it all makes up large parts of you. You care about your work in the sense that any work you do is done impressively well and to the best of your ability--"

Hours of sitting at his desk, sifting through files and code flashed through his mind, as do memories of him as a child, researching and researching about whatever piqued his interest at the time. From the science in textbooks or a rubik’s cube, from staying up to make seating charts for Seri's wedding to finishing work reports and video game quests, he worked through everything, drowsiness a secondary concern.

"Mediocre is hardly in your vocabulary, and when it is, you do what it takes to white it out. You care about being better than those that wronged and betrayed you, right down to physical appearance."

He saw years of self-destruction and doubt, of molding himself into an image he could hate, so he wouldn't ever make the mistake of believing he could be something more. He remembered when he stopped, when his reflection started being him, and only him.

"Don't think your glasses request did not go unnoticed. But above all, and regardless of whether you know it yourself, you have immense adoration for those you've allowed into your life."

Saruhiko stops his own mind there, because going further was far too dangerous. It doesn't take a genius to know what Nagare was implying, and he's no idiot, but exposing the truth is more than he's willing to do. As if he could keep it hidden, unharmed, from someone who no doubt knew everything there was to know.

Even still, he pushed down memories of bickering and laughter, of heels clicking and the smell of stuffy offices, because part of him knew what Nagare meant.

He remained quiet for far too long, and he could tell Misaki was fighting with himself to not intervene like he so obviously wanted to. Ask Saruhiko what was wrong and pull the answers out himself with fierce purpose. But he didn't, because he had done this on his own hadn't he? So Saruhiko should too.

How he loathed it now, facing things alone.

"Would all that be correct to assume?" Nagare's question was hardly one at all, said with a slight lilt that hinted he already knew the answer, the greenish-gray of his eyes glistening in a way that did nothing to quell Saruhiko's anger. He wasn't a fan of people assuming things about him, much less when they were completely correct.

He directed what he thought was a scathing glare, and he guessed he succeeded, from how Misaki jumped back next to him, hand stuttering in its grip. Nagare was unfazed as ever, form relaxing oddly in his chair. Patient, waiting.

Expectant.

The worst part was, Saruhiko couldn't give himself the satisfaction of shattering those expectations. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, dry like sandpaper as he hissed the words out, or he tried at least. It sounded more akin to the voice of a scared child. "Yes."

"What are you willing to give up then? Or, more specifically..."

The feeling bubbled up, dread, knowing. It twisted his gut. It was as he thought. He couldn't push down the memories, Nagare knew they were there.

Saruhiko's breathing stumbled regardless; a memory slipped through.

"Fushimi-san, I have to say, you're being difficult." Fuse's irritable voice cut through the silence of the office. They were working overtime, because the rest of the group had caught some sort of stomach bug after going out the previous night. They could've simply left the work for them for later, but...

Saruhiko almost blanched at the blunt admission, but caught himself. Ah, so it was going to be like this. It wasn't uncommon for Fuse to be annoyingly honest about sensitive issues, but well, Saruhiko had been more than okay with the quiet. "Oh, how so?" He resisted the urge to glare. It wasn't like he much cared about the answer. In fact, he was impressed he'd actually replied. "You can leave if you want, I told you I had work to finish. I don't need your help."

"Right," Fuse mumbled, loudly throwing a stack of finished reports into a sorting bin. "We both know neither you nor I were behind on work. You stayed to help everyone else, so they didn't have things to do when they--"

"Any work that gets done helps overall efficiency, which makes my life less of a headache." Saruhiko cut in, not bothering to hide a scowl this time. There was something he hated about the conversation, regardless of if he chose to pinpoint it, and he'd rather sweep it away and into the silent void as soon as possible. Sure, he could say he and Fuse got along better now than in his first days at the company, but at the moment, he was managing to get on Saruhiko's tired and coffee deprived nerves.

He ignored any of the actual reasoning for Fuse's statement. It wasn't important, shouldn't be. The usual pattern between them told Saruhiko that there was nothing more to say. Saruhiko would make a final remark that left no desire for retort, and Fuse would sigh or grumble, and then...nothing.

So he wasn't exactly expecting it when the other went on.

"You know, you don't have to try so hard to act like you don't care, or that you don't need help. We'd all...we'd help you, if you asked. Probably even if you didn't, which isn't fair, so get rid of the habit already." Another pile, tossed violently in the bin, a stark contrast to the other's level tone.

There they were again, baseless assumptions. He wished he could shut them all down in one go. He was never certain about the assumptions he made about himself, so how dare anyone else have the audacity to make them with no hesitation.

Saruhiko snapped at him, that cruel smile threatening to curl up. He guessed it hadn't gone away yet, wondered if it ever would. "Right, I'm sure."

There was hardly a pause there, like he expected, because a pause would follow the pattern. He would push away, people would back off.

Lately, the pattern was becoming less and less dependable, based on the people who surrounded him. Fuse straightened to his full height, that same annoyed glint in his eyes as he grabbed another stack of paperwork defiantly, because he obviously refused to leave.

"Why do you think I'm here with you?"

The memory wasn't fresh. It was from years back, when Saruhiko had barely been adjusting to his new life, new opportunities and outlooks. He still held parts and tendencies of his old self, still isolated himself and refused to accept words of comfort and weakness.

It wasn't a special moment on its face, he'd been exhausted, irritable. Yet he'd subjected himself to working, and Fuse hadn't hesitated to tag along. Saruhiko knew now it was a gesture of care, and maybe that was the point. Maybe the moment wasn't pivotal, but he obviously cherished it, clung to it deep in his mind because it was essential to...

To what? His growth? The bonds he'd formed?

God there it was again. Admitting it always made his palms sweat.

Bonds, such unstable, fleeting things. In most cases. And yes, maybe his case wasn't normal, when it came to his inner circle, but it wasn't just that and he knew it. The memory reminded him...

"We'd help you, if you asked."

Ah, it was that. The reminder that he had support, whether he deserved it at the time or otherwise. He'd cultivated that, in some unknown way, his loud, overly nosy support system, and as a result, he could hardly think of a memory in the past few years where they weren't involved in some shape or form.

It settled something comfortable inside him, or maybe just reinforced the fact that it was there, the warmth, one which didn't burn or make his skin prickle anxiously.

Saruhiko looked back at Nagare, the strange coolness of the cave seeping in his bones, and he finally considered how this might be the hardest trial yet. His question wasn't something he'd be able to answer correctly, for once in his life. Nagare seemed to realize them too, Saruhiko's own internal realizations, his head bowing before his last effort.

"If you had to return to your life, only to find the people in it no longer remembered you, could you?" A question, that was the trial, but Saruhiko knew his would have many hidden questions, things laced underneath way more complex than a simple rewriting of time, of his bonds. He couldn't answer any of them the right way, like Misaki had. Determined, and sure, confident of his survival. "Can you make the effort to cultivate those relationships from scratch?"

No. A resounding no. Was it not fucking obvious? Saruhiko wanted to snap at him, but his strength drained instantly, the surging of self doubt and loss was too much, he couldn't do anything.

Did these people not know who he was? How much of a distant reality it would be, for him to do any of that? They seemed to know everything else. It had taken Saruhiko his entire life to accept those bonds and connections he'd made, he'd tried to destroy and crack them more times than he could count. He was distant and reserved, any effort made on his companions' part to get closer to him had completely depended on their own kindness and resolve, none of his. It was purely selfish really, how he'd taken his spot among them all, only giving in and seeing their value when all the hard work had been done, his walls chipped away slowly by each interaction and tender moment. He didn't deserve it, not the first time, so why would he be able to earn it a second? He wasn't so naive as to believe it was possible.

On top of it all, he was bad at connecting, he'd been told several times how unpleasant he was. And though he'd surely return to life a changed person, with new insights and more control, there was no guarantee he could erase what had been ingrained in him completely. Certainly not enough to reach out and put the things he cared about back together. He would have Misaki...and yeah, that in itself was more than he could ask for, and he wanted it so bad, but...

He couldn't leave those fragments of himself behind with people, with Seri and the guys, knowing they had no idea what they'd been to him. It was worse than if they simply passed away; nothing about this grieving process would be natural.

How hilarious, he thought with a rueful smile. All this to get back to them, and I lose them no matter what.

No.

No.

That was the answer.

But what was he supposed to say? Certainly not what he knew deep down. Because if he didn't try to deny his feelings, he wouldn't even get the chance to try to overcome them. The journey would end for him, right then and there, after everything he'd gone through.

Misaki would leave without him. All his connections, truly gone.

Misaki's hand touched his neck, like he was trying to ground Saruhiko as best he could, in support of an answer Saruhiko could not bring himself to utter. He met the touch anyways, though he felt sick, and curled his long fingers around the warm palm, never wanting to let it go.

"Saru..." Misaki's voice was the most patient he'd ever heard it, to disappoint the person behind such an understanding tone...he probably couldn't do that either, not after finding out what they meant to each other.

He wanted to be with Misaki, he wouldn't lose that. Saruhiko looked down at the redhead, eyes undoubtedly clouded with fear he had no desire to acknowledge further. Misaki held it, didn't comment on it other than another gentle squeeze to Saruhiko's hand and neck, and Saruhiko could've buried himself in his arms for eternity, away from all this.

But it wasn't an option.

Saruhiko wouldn't break his gaze on the shorter's face, even as Nagare asked again.

"Fushimi-san, could you give those connections up?"

A spark of sadness flashed in Misaki's eyes, but it was much too late for that.

"Yes."

Misaki smiled at him, encouraging, a silent 'you can do this, it won't be so bad.' Saruhiko couldn't mirror it.

"A good choice, Fushimi-san."

"Right."

And all the while, the voice in his head continued. No, no, no.

[threethousandfans]

I would do anything in my power

After New York, Natasha has issues with sleep and her and clint talk about their future.

*

Their lives had turned upside down since the new york events. Tony had offered all of the avengers an apartment in stark towers and natasha and clint were no different. They shared a lavish apartment with a shared living room, kitchen and bathroom. But each had thier own spacious bedroom with a humongous kingsize bed.

Not that this mattered to Natasha. She rarely managed to get sleep. Her mind was always too awake and ready to jump into action when clint became possessed again. Of course Loki was gone and clint was perfectly fine, but that didnt stop her restlessness. So she spent most nights pressed up against the floor-to-ceiling windows of their shared apartment, watching new york being rebuilt.

She often found her mind wandering to the events of the last couple of months. She had felt so lost when clint was taken away from her that she was almost unable to do anything, useless during the time when new york needed her the most. Natasha had been trained not to feel emotions. She was condtioned to be a mindless drone. A killing machine. She had snapped necks with her bare hands. She had stuck a dagger in some guys chest and watched the light drain out of his eyes. So why couldnt she deal with it when her mission partner were brainwashed?

It was maybe the fourth night since the new york disaster, natasha was sat at her window watching taxis drive past on the street below, when she heard a noise. It could only be described as the ruffle of fabric. She reached for the knife that she always kept in her belt.... except she wasnt wearing a belt. She was wearing an oversized ACDC t shirt that she borrowed from Clint, and nothing else. She mentally cursed herself. Natasha rose into a crouch and poised herself ready to attack.

All that was going through her head were thoughts that clint might be in danger of being abducted again. This just justified her insomnia and her paranoia. Natasha stood up, spun on the ball of her feet and threw her fist forward. It connected with something firm with a thud, and a "what the hell." at that moment, natasha realised that It was clint that was stood before her. His eyes were the usual storm grey color and, curiously, he held a woolen blanket. "I thought you mind need this." He said after she had apologised.

Clint had feelings for natasha, except he had never told her. He liked her spark, he liked how she surprised him every day without fail. They had always had a special bond that could only have been formed through stake-outs, sharing a hotel room and generally annoying the crap out of each other. Clint always had her back. He was always in the rafters, with his bow ready, just waiting for someone to glance at Nat the wrong way. He knew perfectly well she could deal with missions alone. But they both agreed, they liked him being her cover. However, clints experience with being around tasha meant he could always tell when something was bothering her. "Whats wrong Nat?" He said gently.

She really couldnt find the words to explain how she felt. The lack of sleep and the tidal wave of emotions caught up on her as she sank on the floor and sat crossed legged, facing the window. "Im fine." She muttered. Clint opened up the blanket and draped it around her shoulders and then sat next to her on the floor.

They paused for a moment, watching the three am hubub of new york, the city that never sleeps. "What do we do now?" Asked Clint. He didnt blame natasha for not being able to verbalise her feelings. He knew that she couldnt help how she was programmed. But most of all he knew that her emotions were what frustrated natasha the most. He had witnessed many tantums, wall punches and knives stuck in doors during their partnership.

"Well i cant stay here forever. I already feel like sinking a throwing knife between starks eyes." Clint laughed and natasha smiled slightly. "I think im gonna get a new apartment. Start over again".

"You could always come live with me. On ranch." It slipped out. He didnt mean it. Clint always dreamnt of a future where him and natasha lived on his ranch. Retired just as they turned 30. Kids. A dog called lucky. A perfect life. Natasha would be the most incredible wife. The chances of her sharing that dream was incredibly slim. She couldnt settle. She always had to do something. Clint was ready for her to shoot him down. Maybe she would ignore him completley and they could forget about it.

Instead, she set her head on his shoulder and sighed. He was wearing a snuggly grey robe that was soft against her face. Her heart was telling her exactly how it felt. Her head was telling her not to say a word. Instead natasha stared at their reflection in the glass. Clint wrapped a reassuring arm around her shoulder. One of the best things about their relationship, natasha thought, was the way clint always listened to her. No matter how jumbled her words were.

"I dont think im the type of person to settle down."

"Dont you have dreams of the future?", clint asked.

"I dont know. Im scared of the future. All i want is the right person to live out the rest of my life with." She closed her eyes, they were starting to feel heavy. Clint smelt nice, it always relaxed her. "I lost you for a few days. That was the scariest thing thats ever happened to me, because i rely on you so much. Youre the only person i can open up to. What happens if i open up to someone new and i loose them?"

"You know, if they loved you, theyd do anything in their power to protect you?" He buried his nose into her hair. There was a small flutter in his tummy, just from being so close to Nat.

"I want a proper house. Not a flat. Somewhere in the suburbs." She muttered.

"A nice big kitchen that you can mess up." She laughter and elbowed him in the ribs. Clint responded by digging his fingers into her sides. Natasha squealed and fell into his lap.

They stayed for a minute, natasha looking up into clints eyes. Her eyes were the most amazing green. Like the meadow at the back of his ranch. She didnt make an attempt to move, she just adjusted her blanket. "I want a huge garden."

"Not gonna lie. My ranch is in the middle of a field Nat.". She giggled. The black widow didnt giggle.

"Who said we were moving in together?" She exclaimed. "If we were to live together, you can cook." She laughed.

Clint grinned, ignoring the bubbles in his chest. "Fine. But you can watch the kids."

"Fine. I want one girl and two boys." She said definitivley.

Clint was surprised shed even thought about it. "And a dog. Called lucky."

"And a dog called lucky." Repeated natasha. Something in her head slotted into place. Why was she so worried about settling down when she had everything she wanted right here.

"Also the sex would be amazing." He said with a smug grin. She sat up and punched him in the chest, laughing. Natasha definatley thought that clints muscular body was a perk of the job. She had never considered anything sexual happening between them. But now that she thought about it.... natasha smirked.

Clint didnt know where to go next. Did he just leave it or did he propose on the spot. He did what he always does in these situations. He tries to make a joke out of it. "Honestly. With my expertise. Itll be great. All youll have to do is lay there and look incredible."

Natasha giggled "why are you making me think about having sex with you?!" She blushed beet red. "It would be great, though."

Clint pulled natasha onto his lap. She lost the blanket and her tshirt rose up and revealed even more of her thighs. She tried not to think about how she wasnt wearing any underwear. Natasha buried her head into the crook of clints neck.

They stayed there in silence, no sound but the horns honking on the street below. Clint finally had Natasha in his arms. Natasha finally felt like she had a clear head. "Nat?" He whispered. She looked up and he pressed his lips to hers. Natasha found something she never thought she needed.

As the kiss intensified, clint began to stroke her thighs. Natasha wound her fingers into his blond hair. They broke apart gasping and flushed.

They rested thier foreheads together. "I love you clint. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Honestly, clint couldve cried.

"I love you too. I promise that ill do anything in my power to protect you."

[obtusemedia]

Ranking 2017′s #1 Hits, Worst to Best

2017 was a strange year for the pop charts because the genre of pop itself was almost non-existent.

Big names who just a few years ago would’ve been guaranteed to have multiple smashes per year had singles that were dead on arrival, from Katy Perry to Macklemore to *wistful sigh* Lorde. When Kesha’s vengeful power ballad “Praying” reached #22, which would even barely qualify it as a “hit,” I was shocked (for good reasons, the song is fantastic).

Instead, 2017 felt like the early-aughts all over again, with hip-hop absolutely dominating the cultural landscape. And despite my sadness regarding America’s wholesale rejection of bubblegum pop, I wasn’t too upset because for the most part, the masses had pretty good taste in rap! I can live with us abandoning Carly Rae Jepsen if we get more bangers like “XO Tour Llif3,” “Mask Off” or “MotorSport.” 

The hip-hop takeover was so prominent that out of the 12 songs that reached the top of Billboard’s Hot 100 in 2017, six were in the rap genre (and that’s not counting a few others with clear hip-hop influence). How did they compare to the few pop, R&B, and reggaeton songs that snuck through the cracks? Let’s discuss.

#12: “I’m the One” by DJ Khaled feat. Justin Bieber, Quavo, Chance the Rapper and Lil Wayne (#1 for one week)

What happens if you get a whole truckload of the music industry’s biggest male stars, cram them one on track together, but they all phone it in? You get “I’m the One,” a painfully mediocre pop-rap song that reached the top of the charts based on name recognition alone.

First off, I have no problems with DJ Khaled. He’s an entertaining person and is responsible for some stellar tunes. But he clearly had an off day here; The production sounds like a limp ripoff of multiple already-not-great DJ Mustard songs from 2014. 

Meanwhile, Biebs sounds like he just wandered into the studio half-asleep. Frankly, that’s something I can say about his vocal performance most of the time, but at least usually he works with better production than this.

Then we have the three rappers: Quavo is on autopilot, probably since he recorded about a thousand other guest verses in 2017 that were nearly identical. Lil Wayne is way past his sell-by date at this point, although I did chuckle at his Whitney/Bobby line. 

And Chance...what are you doing, man?! His overly-sweet style usually sits on the tightrope between goofy fun and way-too-cheery, and he landed hard on the latter side this time. He just sounds so awkward and out-of-place trying to cram his positivity into this song while dropping brand names like everyone else (yes, I know he actually has a Gucci belt, but referencing that still sounds weird from him). Also: it’s not special that your girlfriend doesn’t have cable. Most Millennials don’t.

So while “I’m the One” isn’t egregiously awful by any means, it does commit the worst possible crime for a song: It’s forgettable.

#11: “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran and Beyoncé (#1 for two weeks...and counting)

Beyoncé’s first number one hit since “Single Ladies” is...an aggressively bland duet with Ed Sheeran. I can’t blame her for “Perfect”: This is an Sheeran cut first and foremost. 

Listen, I get it, there will always be a need for wedding first-dance songs (although this would be only for a super-basic wedding), but Ed already put out a wedding first-dance song three years ago! And it was actually pretty decent! Meanwhile, “Perfect” is acoustic-guitar mush that’s so boring that even Queen Bey can’t bring the excitement. 

The sad thing about “Perfect” is that I don’t mind Ed that much. Yeah, he’s a total dork, but he can be charming if he puts enough energy and effort into his songs, like this Divide cut. 

The problem is just that I’m allergic to 99 percent of acoustic guitar ballads. There’s some exceptions, but “Perfect” is nowhere near the level of those songs, despite the massive star power involved here. And with any luck, it’ll be forgotten in a couple years, but we’ll still have to sit through it at half of our friends’ weddings this summer.

#10: “rockstar” by Post Malone feat. 21 Savage (#1 for eight weeks)

Post Malone’s rise from “that trashy-looking Future wannabe” to “one of the biggest names in pop music” confuses me. He’s not the absolute worst — I’ll take him any day of the week over Kodak Black or XXXTENTACION — but what makes this guy so special? I don’t love Future, but occasionally, he can drop something electrifying. Meanwhile, Post Malone sounds absolutely stoned out of his mind half the time, and not in the good way like Snoop. Say what you want about fellow Texas white rapper Riff Raff, but at least that guy sounds like he’s having, you know, fun.

I’ll give Post this: “rockstar” is a definite upgrade over Malone’s breakout, “White Iverson,” if only because the melody on the former is actually fairly solid and 21 Savage comes through with a decently witty verse. 

Honestly, most of my problems come with the sleepy production. For a song about living life like rockstars, it sure doesn’t sound like a crazy night. It sounds more like the groggy, hungover morning after. The predecessor to “rockstar,” 2007′s “Party Like a Rockstar,” might have been a boneheaded mess, but it actually sounded like the Shop Boyz were legitimately partying like rockstars.

#9: “Look What You Made Me Do” by Taylor Swift (#1 for three weeks)

DAMNIT TAYLOR. THIS HAD POTENTIAL.

As a person, Taylor Swift isn’t my favorite. I don’t think she’s quite as evil as some make her out to be, but she’s definitely still pretty awful. And of course, because I’m an obnoxiously devoted Kanye stan, Ms. Swift will never be on my good side. 

But that’s fine! If you’re a jerk in real life with lots of enemies, then lean into being the villain in your music. Taylor’s arch-nemesis nailed this approach four years ago. The way to NOT react to bad PR is to paint yourself as the victim. And unfortunately, that’s exactly what “Look What You Made Me Do” is. 

The lyrics here try to blame Kanye and the media for events that were clearly Taylor’s fault. And again: if she had owned it, saying something on the lines of, “Yeah, I’m straight-up Regina George. I wreck careers and destroy my enemies. What are you going to do about it?”, that would be amazing! Clearly, the video, which is actually pretty great, is on that wavelength and paints the whole situation in a humorous light. It’s too bad the song doesn’t share that perspective.

So, if this song frustrates me so much, why isn’t it dead last? Thank super-producer/pop genius Jack Antonoff, who provides Taylor with an appropriately sinister, minimalist beat (with cowbells at the end!). And honestly, I kind of love the goofy details here, like the “I’m Too Sexy”-biting chorus and the instantly-iconic “The old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Oh...because SHE’S DEAD!!” refrain. 

“Look What You Made Me Do” is the equivalent of a star wide receiver getting the perfect pass while wide open...and then tripping in the endzone, completely missing the football. It would’ve been a great pop song if Taylor knew how to get out of her own way. Just listen to 1989 instead.

#8: “Despacito” by Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee feat. Justin Bieber (#1 for 16 weeks)

“Despacito” is passable. The melody is catchy enough, it has a nice, summery groove, and Luis Fonsi’s silky-smooth vocals and Daddy Yankee’s gruffer delivery compliment each other nicely. Having a Spanish-language song dominate the summer for the first time in ages was neat.

HOWEVER. There are a couple  things that hold it back in this countdown:

1) Justin Bieber’s shoe-horned inclusion was entirely unnecessary and awkward. I swear, I don’t hate everything Biebs has done (“One Time” will forever be a middle school formal classic), but his contributions in 2017 were lacking.

2) The production doesn’t really grab me here. Sorry. If it sounded more like Daddy Yankee’s previous material, I’d be more on board.

“Despacito” is a decent pop song, but it didn’t deserve to be the biggest hit of the year. Blame overplay, I guess.

#7: “Shape of You” by Ed Sheeran (#1 for 12 weeks)

...I don’t really have a lot to say about this one, to be honest. It’s fine. It’s certainly better than the audio NyQuil of Ed Sheeran’s ballads.

I’ve never minded it too much when Ed tries to go hip-hop. Yeah, it’s kind of embarrassing, but as a fellow embarrassing person, I don’t mind. It’s just that “Shape of You” doesn’t really have a lot to offer beyond a halfway-decent beat and some clunky lyrics (really, Ed? Taking a girl to an all-you-can-eat-buffet on the first date? You know you’re a millionaire, right?). 

The whole song just feels sort of calm, but not necessarily in a good way. It doesn’t get you hyped, but it also doesn’t get you particularly emotional or happy either. “Shape of You” just...exists. And while it’s not a terrible existence — I’d never force someone to change the radio station if it came on — it’s not a particularly stellar one either. 

Still, I’ll always give props to Ed for willing to play with some sounds and musical styles outside of acoustic guitar. I far prefer this over listening to a British version of Jack Johnson.

#6: “That’s What I Like” by Bruno Mars (#1 for one week)

Bruno Mars cranked out yet another brilliant retro-pop single this spring. Given his stellar track record, the quality of “That’s What I Like” shouldn’t have been a shocker.

In fact, I’m not sure there is to really comment here. Does anybody really dislike this song? “That’s What I Like” is just an objectively solid, 7.5/10 pop single. Not quite on the same lofty level as “Uptown Funk” or “Locked Out Of Heaven,” but it’ll have a nice mid-show slot during his Vegas residency in 2030. Keep up the good work, Bruno.

#5: “Bodak Yellow” by Cardi B (#1 for three weeks)

I have no clue how “Bodak Yellow” became a number one hit. This type of uncut, non-bubblegum rap doesn’t usually become popular. There was no meme or viral joke associated with it. There’s no flashy guest verse or singer for maximum crossover appeal. I mean, yes, Cardi B was apparently reality-show famous, but last time I checked, most reality stars don’t really branch out in this big of a manner (heard from Snooki or Lauren Conrad lately?).

Still, I’m cool with “Bodak Yellow” being the sleeper hit of the year. The only potential flaw here is the fairly generic trap production, but Cardi B makes that irrelevant. She’s a force on the mic. There’s something about flexing that just sounds so much cooler when it’s done in a super-aggressive New York accent. And with rappers sounding sleepier by the minute, Cardi’s in-your-face delivery that grabs you by the neck and doesn’t let go is refreshing.

I also thought it was interesting that Nicki Minaj kept getting thrown into this “Bodak Yellow” discussion, because this sounds nothing like Nicki. Nicki Minaj’s biggest hits typically positioned her as an unhinged psychopath or bubblegum popstar who’s just a little bit edgier than the Katy Perrys of the world.

Cardi B, meanwhile, sounds like a trash-talking mob boss. Yes, she brags about money and men, but what is “Bodak Yellow” really centered around? Power.

“Bodak Yellow” still feels a bit like a mixtape track (albeit a great one), but it’s very promising, and I hope we hear a lot more from Cardi B in the next year.

#4: “Bad and Boujee” by Migos feat. Lil Uzi Vert (#1 for three weeks)

I’m not sure we’ve had a hip-hop song this infinitely quotable since 2 Chainz and Kanye’s 2012 double whammy of “Mercy” and “Birthday Song.”

Right off the bat, we get Offset rattling off the immortal lines that will go down in history: “Rain drop. Drop top.” And from there, we enter a land of increasingly silly ad-libs, awkward Pixar name-drops and fiery bars after fiery bars. There’s even a Metro Boomin drop! It’s magical.

However, I would just like to give a moment to shout out Lil Uzi Vert. There are people who will tell you his guest verse is garbage. Those people are not to be trusted. Uzi’s guest verse is in fact a prime example of so-bad-it’s-actually-genius, up there with Talledega Nights.

I don’t know if his verse was meant to be comedic or not, but I crack up nearly every time that “YAH YAH YAH YAH YAH” starts. I mean, come on, how can you hate a verse that features multiple awkward pauses so the rapper can catch his breath? Or a verse where the rapper accidentally falls asleep in a hot tub (which is a really, REALLY bad idea).

And for those who think Uzi’s avant-garde stylings and ridiculous lines ruin “Bad and Boujee,” just remember Offset also said he cooked drugs with a literal uzi and Quavo favorably compared himself to an animated French rat. It’s all ridiculous, and I love every minute of it.

#3: “HUMBLE.” by Kendrick Lamar (#1 for one week)

Two years ago, if you had told me Kendrick Lamar would ever have a #1 hit, I would’ve dismissed you. Yes, the modern Compton legend is probably the most talented rapper of his generation, and yes, he’s got critical love by the boatloads (Pitchfork has given him Album of the Year three times, something nobody — not even P4K darlings like Animal Collective or Kanye or Radiohead — has pulled off), but he was always a bit too out there for the mainstream. In 2015, he was noodling around with freeform jazz while the most popular hip-hop was riffing off of Young Thug’s sound (*brushes tear from eye* I miss Fetty Wap so bad, guys).

Still, what Kung Fu Kenny wants, Kung Fu Kenny gets, and somehow, Kendrick managed to pull off the balancing act of delivering a super-catchy, radio-friendly rap hit without diluting his unique style.

Mike Will Made It’s minimalist piano production gives Kendrick plenty of room to dish out threats to his rivals and flex into eternity. There’s plenty of solid lines here, but my personal favorite, as a music nerd, is “Soprano C, we like to keep it on a high note.” 

No, “HUMBLE.” isn’t Kendrick’s best, but it’s still exhilarating to hear his intense energy on a simple banger beat. I hope he continues to ride that sweet spot between his weird, experimental side and his knack for creating catchy trunk-rattlers.

#2: “Black Beatles” by Rae Sremmurd feat. Gucci Mane (#1 for one week in 2017 + six weeks in 2016)

Memo to Post Malone: THIS is how you do a hip-hop song about being a rockstar. 

“Black Beatles” is a goddamn pop-rap masterpiece that would’ve made my Top 25 of 2016 list, except for the fact that I didn’t realize how great it was until mid-December of that year, when my list was already solidified. Luckily, it held onto the #1 spot for one more week in 2017, so I get the opportunity to gush about it here(a year later than everyone else, I know, but whatever).

First, Rae Sremmurd by this point are two of hip-hop’s best voices. Their energetic, sing-song flows perfectly capture the rush and chaos of youth. Although Swae Lee gets the most airtime here, owning both the chorus and delivering a solid first verse, I honestly prefer Slim Jxmmi’s rougher, more intense verse. 

Meanwhile, Gucci Mane, playing the elder statesman, doesn’t get shown up by the brothers, and offers up some oddball lines that only Gucci could bring.

But honestly, what elevates “Black Beatles” to the next level isn’t so much the three rappers. They’re all great and each provides their own unique style, but the real star here is Mike Will Made It’s phenomenal production. While “HUMBLE.” is a minimalist thumper, “Black Beatles” is a swirl of ‘80s synths and chugging shoegaze guitar, sounds you normally don’t hear in hip-hop. It’s like Cocteau Twins with a trap beat, which somehow totally works. Swae Lee’s hook is even a bit reminiscent of Elizabeth Fraser’s haunted, echo-y vocal style. Yet, despite the gothic production, “Black Beatles” still manages to sound like like a blast. 

If “Rockstar” sounds like the groggy morning-after, “Black Beatles” is the bonkers party from the night before. And I prefer parties to hangovers.

#1: “Starboy” by The Weeknd feat. Daft Punk (#1 for one week)

Many of the songs on this list have featured some stellar producers: Metro Boomin, Mike Will Made It, and of course, Bruno Mars producing himself. Even “Look What You Made Me Do” has solid production (although Jack Antonoff produced WAY better songs this year). 

But — outside of perhaps Kanye West — nobody tops Daft Punk. And Daft Punk is quite selective with who they work with, so the fact that they’re willing to collaborate with The Weeknd proves everyone’s favorite Canadian R&B star (sorry...uh...PartyNextDoor) is officially applying to become a pop legend. Luckily, “Starboy” absolutely gets the Weeknd’s foot in that door.

The Weeknd somehow manages to not be overshadowed by his French robot producers, seeming both above-it-all and, yet, somehow deeply invested. He is truly confused about his new stardom, and how does he cope? Sports cars and cocaine, of course! 

Usually, these songs go one of two ways: Either it’s pure flossing or it’s pure regret. “Starboy” manages to combine the two somehow. The Weeknd is bragging about his expensive Rolls Royce, home furnishings and nose candy, but he sounds so empty and anguished while doing so. His life is luxurious, but it’s hollow. When he lets the listener know that “I’m a motherfucking star, boy,” it doesn’t sound like he’s bragging; it sounds like the threat of a possessed man. The whole thing gives off Phantom of the Opera vibes (I knew the video’s opening synths reminded me of something!).

This set-up is perfectly complimented by Daft Punk’s cold, almost creepy production. It’s very minimalist and sleek during the verses, then slowly ramps up during the choruses, with snapping snare hits and robotic voices taunting The Weeknd as he descends into the traps of fame. It’s almost like they’re a movie villain telling the hero, “You get all of these riches...at a price.”

What’s the price? Happiness. But man, a descent into bleak nihilism has never sounded this smooth.